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#harry's also a hufflepuff in this fic

regulus-black-supremacy · 2 years

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quick question I'm trying to remember the name of this fic that i read before and i want to see if anyone knows what it is lmao

it's a harry potter time-travel fic. post-2nd war, and harry realises he's the master of death when he finds out he can't seem to die. all his friends are aging and having children but he's always at 17 years old, no matter what he does. i know it also had dramione in it, and some weasley + dumbledore bashing too. i think harry and ginny had broken up at some point in the fic, and his relationship with ron's very strained.

one day when going through the malfoy manor i think draco/hermione find abraxas' old journal?? harry reads it and sees how it talks about who tom riddle was through the years. harry stays cooped up reading the journal and devises a plan to time-travel to save everyone and change the course of events.

harry meets this vampire that he was friends with (in the present time) in the past, and ends up getting de-aged. he's also a cousin of abraxas in the story, and stays with the malfoy's as it goes on.

i know the title of the fic has to do with that journal but for the life of me i can't seem to find it. lmfao i hope it's not too much to ask but if anyone has the link, I'd appreciate it if you could share 🥺

#ik it was on ao3 #harry's also a hufflepuff in this fic #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #hp fics #time-travelling harry potter

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impishtubist · 2 years

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Fic where James and Regulus have (gently, lovingly) been ribbing each other ever since Harry was born about what house he’ll end up in. Baby Harry spits up on James while he’s holding him above his head and Regulus is like “ah, the makings of a true Slytherin.” Harry learning to walk and promptly trying to master the stairs, and James is like “ah, brave like a true Gryffindor.” Remus and Sirius get in on it, too, of course, and so there’s a great amount of anticipation leading up to Harry’s sorting.

And then he gets into Hufflepuff.

And Ted Tonks promptly Apparates into their kitchen and goes, “Ha, I win!”

#jegulus #wolfstar #raising harry #imp fic prompt #MORE JEGULUS DADS PLEASE #also wolfstar dads #teddy lupin would also end up in hufflepuff and both sets of parents are just like huh #did not see that one coming

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softanddreamyhours · 17 days

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🌷 enhypen fic recommendations 🌷

okay i didn't add word counts !! sorry !! i only realized rn and i'm way to lazy to go and add them oops, some are long and some are short (it can be a nice surprise when you open the links)

lee heeseung strawberries and cigarettes - @chaconnenha heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, kinda suggestive (they kiss), badboy!heeseung ?? (he smokes) goodgirl!reader ?? (she doesn't smoke) this one gave me butterflies haha, super cute

nevertheless - @palajae idol!heeseung x gn!reader, fluff, crack maybe? (i thought it was funny) idk man this made me laugh out loud and it was also super cute

i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck - @taeghi heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, angst (only a little), smut, best friends brother. yup i love lee heeseung and this made me go slightly feral

park jongseong no limits - @yeonzzzn jay x fem!reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut. i loved this so much, like it felt real yk i can picture dear jay owning a restaurant.

teddy bear - @okwonyo jay x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. this one made me feel so warm i just want someone to call me princess and take care of me

sim jaeyun act now, think later - @sankyeom jake x fem!reader, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, down bad jake. guys this was so cute i was giggling and shit

erotic empathy - @simpjaes jake x fem!reader, fluff (maybe lol), smut, strangers to ?? jakes a virgin and reader makes him one no longer, idk i love loser boys

park sunghoon unsteady - @yeonzzzn sunghoon x fem!reader, exes to ?? angst, fluff, cheating? (not sunghoon tho) this was a bit sad but ended happy :)

ceo sunghoon - @hottestvirgin ceo!sunghoon x fem!collegestudent reader, fluff, smut, age gap. loved this so much, i would do literally anything for this man

kim sunoo mint choco hater - @sanrikis sunoo x fem!reader, strangers (?) to lovers (?), fluff. i actually love mint chocolate as a flavor so i cannot relate to this, but it was still so cute

misfit - @palajae sunoo x gn!reader, hogwarts au, hufflepuff!sunoo, slytherin!reader, fluff, strangers to lovers. i love harry potter and i love enhypen so yeah i loved this

yang jangwon kiss and no makeup - @soov jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. jungwon is so cute and this is so cute and fluffy

kiss cam - @jaeyunverse jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, soooo much fluff, enemies(?) to lovers. um this was so cute and yes i know i say that for every fic but this was so cute :(

nishimura riki best friends can kiss, right? - @riki-dazed niki x reader, fluff, friends to lovers, there are 2 parts to this and in the second part they kiss a lot, so maybe suggestive? this was super cute, i'm such a sucker for friends to lovers tho

heart defender - @seosracha niki x fem!reader, fluff, enemies to lovers, fake dating, nikis kinda mean. i live laugh love high school aus so this was lovely

multiple members the perilla leaf debate - @jjunberry hyung line x reader, fluff, established relationships. this one made me happy bc i can be a little jealous sometimes oops

against the wall - @goldenhypen ot7 x reader, established relationships, fluff ? suggestive ?? just making out with enhypen basically

when their s/o calls them bro - @heeliopheelia ot7 x reader, fluff, suggestive for some?, established relationships. i never call anyone bro but this was still funny and cute

hugs in specific scenarios - @thejakeslayla ot7 x gn!reader, fluff, angst for some, established relationships physical touch is so my love language so this was great bc i love hugs

hot things they do - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, established relationships. these also had me giggling and kicking my feet

more than just friends - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, friends that are more than friends, established relationships?? friends to lovers is always a win in my eyes

( AS ALWAYS SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS PLS I LOVE READING FICS AND GETTING RECOMENDATIONS SO I WILL LOVE YOU IF YOU SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS AND FAV FICS )

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #yang jungwon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen soft hours

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bythepen98 · 7 months

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Doodles || Tomarry || Childhood friends/Growing Up Together au

(Ignore the not-so-time-period-accurate outfits)

Think of this as a timetravel au where Harry accidentally gets sent back to the past in Wool's orphanage at a young enough age where he barely notices the changes caused by the time displacement and thus grows up nonethewiser to his destiny as the Chosen One. Even when, objectively, his life at the orphanage could be considered worse considering the growing lack of food, his environment's state of decay and overall unrest happening outside the orphanage's walls, something about his situation felt right(?).

He'd always felt disconnected and out of place based on the few memories he still had from living with the Dursleys but now, it felt like he was home in a way. Like something finally clicked in his brain, his soul.

His instant connection to Tom helped cement that fact. It wasn't easy at first because the pull they felt when they first met was so strong that it scared Harry shtless and Tom, already half-full of resentment by this point, was horrified feeling anything to anyone that wasn't disgust. In the end, it didn't take long for them to meet halfway since they were still children and curiosity at the connection lured them in like candy; Harry wanted a special friend of his own and Tom convinced himself that Harry was worth his time because there was no way anyone ordinary could elicit such a soul deep response from him.

Tom has a mean streak and is more bloodthirsty than his charming facade would show but is honest about it with Harry. Although he doesn't have much to his name, Tom is serious about his self-imposed role as Harry's provider, giving him gifts (from the money he steals) during his birthdays and keeping him as warm and well fed as possible (by bullying the other kids into surrendering their share).

Sometimes, Tom....worries.....that his methods would eventually drive Harry - who has such an inherent goodness in him, so often kind to people who don't deserve it - away but what he fails to understand is that Harry's love and loyalty to the first friend he's ever made trumps any kindness he has for others. He'll never like needless violence and won't react if he was being targeted but all bets are off if he even a catches a whiff of plots against Tom. If he has to help hide a body or two in the future so that they won't be separated by something as inconvenient as jail or the law, then that's nobody's business but his own.

P.S. This Harry will probably go to Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like in other fics. It just feels right. Probably should've drawn him wearing a yellow tie but only just got the idea as I'm typing this. Tom would rather eat slugs than go to the Hufflepuff common room but he's more than willing to entertain Harry at the Slytherin common room at every available chance. They have their own seat there and everything.

P.P.S. They also co adopt a tiny(??) baby snake when they realize they can both speak parseltongue and bring him along to hogwarts. Imagine being parents at the big old age of 10 to a possibly magical snake that may or may not grow past nagini-level size.

P.P.P.S. Future power couple in the making. Didn't think that far ahead whether I wanted Tom to go the political route or Dark Lord Voldemort style minus the horcruxes. Don't ask for me the details, just know that with Harry's help, Tom finds a way to prolong their lives without the consequences that come with using horcruxes. They may or may not discover that Harry is in fact a horcrux of Tom already but will never get the answer as to how it happened. Harry worries but Tom just chocks it up as the universe's way of paying him back for his shtty pre-Harry childhood. Ironically the type to believe in soulmates and destiny while Harry is a bit more skeptical on that front.

Alternatively, they could also decide not to do anything too significant -politically- at all and instead retire to the country side while doing research on as many branches of magic as they can. A bit laughable because of Tom's world altering ambitions and Harry's indulgent, enabling behavior but at the same time, anything's possible.

#doodles #tomarry #tomarry fanart #tom riddle x harry potter #tom riddle fanart #harry james potter #harry potter fanart #hpfanart #fanart #childhood friends au #growing up together au #actual soulmates #harry never realizes he got sent back in time #though he does find the resemblence to one James Potter just a tad bit surprising #and the green in Lily Evans eyes making Tom stumble the first time they meet #Tom NEVER stumbles #but seeing his beloved's eyes in someone else's face is jarring #overall though they dont pay much attention to it #just think it's another of life's coincidences #power couple in the making #implied hufflepuff Harry #bc his loyalty to tom trumps his morals #sane Tom #but still has psychopathic tendencies #dumbledore loves Harry but hates Tom #insert interesting worldbuilding here bc I cant write to save my life

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whyareyouhere66 · 8 months

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I feel like it’s been forever since a new Harry Potter fic was written, so I’m here to request(if u feel like writing it ofc<3)!

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Male!reader where reader likes to admire him from the background, but word gets out that they have a crush on him. Reader gets picked on for it because “why would Draco Malfoy of all people go for a Hufflepuff boy?”. U can choose what direction it goes in 👀 (unless you want me be more direct then I can add on to it!)

Yes! I’m here for it- hope you enjoy <3

Also, prefacing this by saying I don’t at all like Rowling or support her bullshit, this is just a cute request id like to do

CW: teasing directed towards reader, reader is like half an inch shorter than Draco (something like that, just for context) unedited (I’ll do it soon I promise) and makeout scene (spoilersssss uh oh)

Sound booms across the length of the long walls, the bustling Great Hall full of kids across grades eating their meals. Chicken, mashed potatoes, loafs spread out in baskets, it’s like a thanksgiving meal.

The sun, high in the sky, shines through the tall windows and creates a natural light to outshine the various floating candles. Down at one of the various tables, the Hufflepuff children sit at the wooden table and talk.

“I don’t think he understood the assignment, either.”

“He’s the one who wrote it!”

“Exactly the issue-“

Y/n, accompanied by F/n, sits across from another group at the decorated table. A yellow and black scarf sits loosely around his s/c shoulders, a few rings wrapped around his fingers. He takes another bite from his plate, listening to F/n and another student bicker quietly- the slightest pull of a smile rising on his lips.

“You guys still talking about Snape?” He asks, eyeing the two. They both nod.

“He’s so grumpy all the time, Y/n,” F/n complains, jutting his chin towards the stone faced man across the room. Y/n chuckles and shakes his head.

“Snape always knows what he’s doing.” He says, planning to check out of the conversation when words of disagreement are thrown his way.

Y/n moves to keep watching his friends- but his eyes flicker.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the platinum blonde hair his eyes always seem to catch. And suddenly, his friends’ words are but mush against his ears.

Draco sits at the Slytherin table, green banners hanging above his head just like the yellow ones above Y/n’s.

He has a normal scowl, that would dull anyone else’s face if it weren’t his. As his friends continue to talk, though, his eyebrow lifts and a smooth smirk almost replaces it.

And oh, how pretty his lips are.

Y/n wishes he could hide the thoughts as they ring in his head, wishing his small smile wasn’t such a giveaway.

“Y/n? Did we lose you again?” The girl across the table asks, bangs falling into her face. Grace, is her name.

“Yeah, you look distracted.” F/n snickers, nudging Y/n’s elbow because unlike the others, he knows exactly where his best friend’s gaze is lingering.

Blood rushes to Y/n’s face, realizing how obvious he had been just now.

“I’m fine.” He insists, elbowing F/n right back. The others shrug it off, not noticing how one last glance is shot towards Draco.

Lunch is closer to wrapping up when Y/n notices the time- 1:48.

“Oh, wait-“ he looks over at F/n. “Man, we gotta go-“

At this, the boy looks at the time and nods. They both grab their things, wishing goodbye to their friends- Ms. McGonagall would be expecting a finished project in the next hour.

They weave through the students crowded around tables, holding their bags close to their hips to take less room. Getting out early gets them more time, though their project was nearly done anyways Ms. McGonagall really talked this one up.

Stepping out through the giant wooden doors, Y/n breathes out.

“Alright, you have the-“ his words are cut short when someone steps into his path.

Looking up, he finds 3 people standing in front of him, having bumped into the first one. They’re all from Slytherin.

“Sorry, didn’t see you.” He tries to step around them, but the boy in front recognizes him and suddenly seems very interested.

“Wait a minute,” he steps in front of Y/n again, “Y/n.” His name on this strange boy’s tongue doesn’t sound like a question, honestly it feels threatening. Y/n furrows his eyebrows, and steps back.

“Uh, yeah?” There’s an intimidating look in the Slytherin boy’s eye- one that not even his friends know the reason for. They, as well as F/n, watch curiously.

“Aren’t you that Hufflepuff that has a crush on Malfoy?”

What.

Y/n’s heart stops, his eyes widen. Who is this kid?

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t seen anything,” confidence seems to build in the boys voice, the look on Y/n’s face coming as confirmation for his words. “You’re always making puppy eyes at him- oh, I so knew it!”

The excitement in this boy’s voice is strange- was he betting on this? Does he not realize how creepy that feels?

“Wait, slow down,” one of the Slytherin’s step forward, wrapping her head around the news, “you like Malfoy? Really?”

Y/n doesn’t like the tone of her voice.

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy?” She scoffs, “oh please.”

Y/n feels too exposed, like he’s suddenly being poked and prodded from under a microscope.

How had they found out?

Who else knows?

He looks at F/n, eyes screaming for help. Another minute here, when kids could walk around the corner at any moment, hear his secret slowly leaking from the safety of his own self, and he might explode.

“You guys are on something strong, aren’t you?” F/n swoops in, trying to play it off and Y/n makes a mental note to remind the boy how grateful he is for him in a moment.

“Quit projecting, will you? Pathetic, really.” F/n says, though avoids any eye contact with the three. He shoves Y/n’s shoulder, who stumbles, and leads him away as quickly as possible.

By the time they get to the library, Y/n’s head is already swimming, mainly from embarrassment.

He never wanted anyone to know- he still doesn’t want that. This little “crush” was supposed to stay between him and F/n, for that was the only person he ever trusted to carry it.

But now? With some smug Slytherin boy walking around with his feelings cupped in the palm of his hand? Y/n’s lost his safety rail. Now, his feelings are vulnerable, ready to be spilled to Draco at any second.

Two hands hold his shoulders firmly, he recognizes them as F/n’s. No surprise, considering there’s barely any one else in the library right now. Y/n’s eyes dart to meet his.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, and it takes an extra moment for the e/c eyed boy to come up with an answer.

“I think so.” He says, nodding. F/n copies the gesture.

“Good, that’s good. I’m sure not that many people know, ok?” He reassures Y/n, who’s grateful for the words as they bring back some stability.

“Right.”

Now that he’s out of that boys uncomfortable gaze, he doesn’t feel as panicked as he did before. More so, unsettled.

“Right, yeah, uh- let’s get back to the project.” With the nod of his head, and one last look, F/n is agreeing. The two boys sit down at one of the many tables, between two tall bookshelves.

‘Maybe it’s ok,’ Y/n thinks to himself, ‘not that many people know.’

You realize now, that you spoke too soon.

The next day comes, and you’re now standing in the bathroom wasting away time that’s supposed to be spent in Snape’s potions class. It’s empty, aside from you of course, nothing but the sound of a running faucet.

It’s so quiet that when the door creaks open, people stepping inside, your head snaps to the side, startled.

It’s two boys, both from Gryffindor, named Avery and Jaxon and you immediately recognize them from a few classes. You turn back to the sink.

Neither of them look at you, instead disappearing into two of the stalls.

By the time they’re both out of the stalls, you’re washing the final suds from your hands. From the mirror, you see their faces change, realizing who you are.

The air becomes unnecessarily tense, you’re unsure why, both of the boys are trying to pretend otherwise.

Avery and Jax glance at each other, walking to the sinks. And it’s not until Avery decides to speak, that the silence is again broken.

“Hey, um-“ you look at him, “I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but…” he looks hesitant to speak, like what he say might come off as offensive, something sensitive. Your curiosity only grows.

“Is it true, that you and Draco are dating?”

You nearly choke.

“What?” You asks, hating that this is the 2nd time Draco has been brought up to you.

“I mean, I heard that-“ Avery seems to notice the growing worry plastered on your face- it’s spreading. Your secret is spreading.

“Oh,” Avery begins to realize, “sorry, Y/n, that was a bit invasive.” His tone is calm, only slightly uncomfortable. Pretty much the opposite to you- itching to drop the conversation. But, you keep a calm face, shoving the gross feelings down.

“No it’s fine, um, why?” You can only hope your voice doesn’t give everything away.

“Oh, I just thought I heard a couple Slytherin kids talking about it.” Again, his voice feels too nonchalant. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Oh.” The slightest shake. Unlike Avery, though, Jax still seems interested.

“Wait- do you like him though?” This results in an elbow to rib, and Avery looks at him like a mother scolding their child.

“Ow!-“ Jax grunts, glaring yet ignoring the hint, “I’m just asking. You know about the Slytherins and Huffs’.”

“They just…” his eyes dart right back to yours, “they just don’t go together, man.” You hate the way he says it- hate how it feels like you’re being scolded, looked down on. Looking down at the yellow and black robes draped across your shoulder, you avoid Jaxon’s gaze.

Which, in hindsight, gives enough of an answer.

The two Gryffindors shuffle out of the bathroom, and immediately you let out a groan.

You’re fucked.

Hands run down your face in exasperation- this wasn’t supposed to get out. Draco probably knows now, people think that you’re dating.

The unusually large bathroom echoes mumbled curses back to you, silence so eery it feels haunting. You feel yourself beginning to doubt if you should even return to potions class- knowing Draco is sitting at the desk a few feet from yours.

“They just don’t go together, man…”

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy? Oh, please…”

Another sigh.

You feel your fingers pressing into your eyelids, passing over your temples and the wrinkles above your nose.

‘He’s gonna hate me’

Such a childish thought, but once it appeared you felt a sickening feeling in your chest because how you wish he doesn’t.

Outside, footsteps echo in the hallway.

And Draco himself, walks down the corridor towards the boy’s bathroom, taking his time with the silence. It’s a much better option, compared to Snape’s incessant grumbling.

He’s been trying to think the whole day- but is only now getting the chance thanks to that little posse of his.

For hours now, whenever given the chance, his mind drifts back to the conversations from early this morning at breakfast.

“Have you heard?” Pansy leans over the table, one eyebrow raised as if she’s careful of listening ears. Though, to that she doesn’t spare a second thought.

Blaise narrows his eyes, looking at her curiously. “Heard what?” He asks, and Draco impatiently looks at her.

“What now.” The blonde already doesn’t care, Pansy always seems to find some sort of gossip across houses. But this time, she’s sending a smirk right his way.

“Some little Hufflepuff has a crush on you.”

Now, to this, Draco does perk up- and his eyes flicker in your direction for only a moment. But, he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge it.

“Mhm.” Pansy sounds so smug in her words, satisfied as both boys lean closer to her.

“Who?” Blaise asked, the roughness behind his voice covering any curiosity.

“Y/n L/n.”

Draco looks bewildered for a second- you? He never thought it was actually you, that was only a spark of hope in a moment of weakness. He was prepared to hear the name of some random girl he hadn’t learned the name of before- but the familiar ring of your name brought satisfaction to follow the shock.

He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that shows through. Beside him, Blaise scoffs.

“You’re joking”. He says, and Draco shoots him a glare.

“What? It’s no surprise,” he says cockily, “jealousy’s never a good look”. The meaningless comeback earns a glare and an eye roll from Blaise- and surprises Pansy.

“Draco,” she narrows her eyes, “do you like this? Him?” She gives him a once-over, checking to see if he’s serious. He is.

Draco doesn’t give a straight answer, though, instead scoffing and going back to his plate.

“Get a life, why don’t you. Your gossip is boring me.” He says- but there’s the slightest pull at his lips, smiling your way.

Draco pushes open the large door, stepping inside the bathroom and immediately- his eyes land on you.

“Y/n?”

Your head snaps up, and a new feeling sinks into your stomach when you see him. You can’t tell if you wish it was someone else, or if this is perhaps what you were hoping for.

“Uh, hey.”

Draco steps closer, and you can see some sort of glint in his eyes, and you can’t quite name the warm yet uneasy feeling that follows.

“Skipping Snape’s class now, are we?” He teases in a smug voice, and your blood aches in your cheeks.

“Just taking a break-“ you don’t look at him, using a towel to wipe off your hands. You simply want to play it cool in front of him, though you’re unsure considering the past two times you seem to have failed.

“A break, hmm? I’m sure.” He says sarcastically.

Instead of picking a stall, like you expected, you watch from the corner of your eye as he approaches you and leans on one of the sinks.

“So,”

You freeze.

‘Don’t say it..’

“There seems to be a bit of a rumor spreading around.”

You visibly wince, the moment you prayed would never come has arrived. He found out- and just like the others, he knows that he could never accept a silly school crush from your house.

Turned away, you’re unable to see the smirk on his face- but you can hear it in his voice.

“Draco…” you mumble, feeling the dread of what his response is going to be. He’s closer now, you feel it- and suddenly his figure is right beside you.

“Y’know, if you wanted a date so badly you could’ve asked.”

You pause.

What?

His voice is new, because while there’s still such a teasing tone buried in the words, you notice…hope, as well.

You look at him, and notice his eyes have softened.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, “no need to have waited so long.” He still sounds partially like he’s joking, but his fingers are creeping closer to yours by the sink’s ledge.

The pieces are starting to connect in your head- he hasn’t pushed you away, hasn’t called you any names. In fact- he’s the one getting so close.

Draco watches, examining your face. He’s starting to feel impatient, actually, feeling he’s been clear enough. He doesn’t seem to understand how confusing his words can be- how your beating heart is twisting and unraveling in your chest. He’s too preoccupied with his own churning heart.

“What’re you saying?” You finally ask, and he nearly scoffs.

“Hell, you’re real thick in the head aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even try stopping himself as his hands cup your face, and his lips are molding right into yours.

He’s so quick with it, like he’s been waiting years for this, yet so smooth at the same time. You can feel your eyes as they shoot open, only to hazily fall half closed a moment later.

His arms loop around your waist, so you were almost bent into his body. You have to take a cautionary step back just to stable yourself, one hand holding his neck, it almost takes you too long to realize he is kissing you.

‘Holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy shit-‘ your mind races, and it feels like only half of it is functioning. Part of you is swimming, the other half melting into his arms because oh how long have you been waiting to feel him so close.

He’s smirking into the kiss now, breaking it into quicker, shorter kisses that mesh together to make one, long breathless one. Through the haze of his lips, your hand creeps into his hair and he wonders why he waited so long to experience this.

You tug slightly, other hand grabbing his jaw, and you pull him away.

The room is no longer silent, both of you catching your breath.

“I’ll take that as your confession, then?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he replies, “meet again after Potions?”

“Sounds good.”

[I hope you all enjoyed- I feel there’s probably more I could’ve added or something, but for now this is good. If anyone wants an add on or more or like a part two let me know!]

#Draco Malfoy #draco Malfoy x male reader #harry potter fandom #Harry Potter fandom x male reader #66 recs&replies

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destourtereaux · 11 months

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treat you better - cedric diggory x fem!reader (part 4: the finale)

read first: part 1, 2, 3 summary: all is well in love and friendship wc: 1.4k follow @lovebirdupdates to join my "taglist"

a/n: dear reader, thank you so much for following this series - i never imagined you would like it so much. i hope you enjoy this final fic, and please do reblog if yes! i’m sad to leave ceddie and harry, but i like how i've ended it :)

The morning after Cedric’s surprise party, you’re woken up by the soft sunlight streaming in through the huge windows of the Hufflepuff common room. Lifting your head up, you hear Cedric grumble, arms tightening around you. The scene feels so cozy that you don’t want to return to reality - but there’s a Herbology midterm coming up, and you’ve never been a natural at the subject, unlike a certain Hufflepuff. And so, you begin extricating yourself from Cedric’s embrace, which is no easy feat.

“How’s it feel to be seventeen, Ceddie?”

You get a groan in response.

“Alright, alright, then you stay put, but I’ve got to go study. I’m not a genius like you,” you tease, squirming in your efforts to slide out of his grasp.

“‘M not a genius, Y/N/N. You help me all the time. Don’t go, I know you’re ready for it, you don’t need anymore studying,” comes a sleepy protest.

“Mm… thank you for your confidence, but I assure you I am not in the least prepared. And what is all this bad advice coming from a prefect,” you raise an eyebrow, before finally slipping out of Cedric’s arms, and standing up immediately to avoid being pulled back in.

You feel the loss of Cedric’s warmth around your shoulders, and it weakens your resolve far more than it should, so you figure you need to leave as soon as possible, before grey eyes melt you into a puddle and back into his chest.

“Oh, fine. Leave me right after spending the night,” Cedric jokes, fully awake at last. He chuckles at the flush on your cheeks from this statement, and dodges your hit to his arm. “Just kidding, darling. Thank you for the party. Now go do what you have to do, I know you’re a busy girl.”

You smile softly, before tiptoeing up to ruffle his hair, and turn to leave. The gray eyes don’t leave you until you’re fully out of sight.

******

Climbing through the portrait hole, you see Ron and Harry sitting on the carpeted floor in front of the hearth, playing Wizard’s Chess, and Hermione engrossed in a book on the nearby couch. The scene is so familiar and comforting that it brings an involuntary smile to your face, before you wipe it off, the fight replaying in your head.

Ron is the first to see you, freezing mid-check, and gives a weak wave. Harry turns, and so does Hermione, with the former also stiffing up, and the latter offering a sweet smile. Hermione then looks back, and, finding the two boys silent, rolls her eyes, and jerks her head in your direction, glaring at them.

Spurned, Ron and Harry stand up, and walk over, looking so dejected that you almost feel sorry for them.

“Y/N - it’s nice to see you again,” Ron begins, his expression sheepish. Harry nods to echo the sentiment.

“We just wanted to apologize for that night. For the mean things we said. None of it was true, and it was of no fault on your end,” Ron confesses.

Your eyes soften, and give him a pat on the shoulder, “thanks Ronnie. And I expect you’ve said the same to ‘Mione?” giving him a pointed look, to which he nods fervently. At this, you offer a smile at last, and seeing this, Ron seems to realize he’s forgiven.

“I’ll give you two some space then,” he says, guiding Hermione away, and leaving Harry alone with you in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry gestures for you to sit, and the two of you settle in on the carpet.

“Y/N/N - I’m really, honestly sorry. I had no right to say what I said, and I’ve felt horrid about it every day since then. I know you’ll always have my back, and some Yule Ball date would never change that. I hope you’ll forgive me,” the black haired boy finally blurts, the words spilling out of him.

Your resolve crumbles. I mean, this is Harry. One of your best friends. You could never stay mad at him, no matter how much he messes up. It’s like he said: you have each other’s backs. So you lean forward and hug him, breathing in the smell of broom polish and treacle toffee that you had missed incredibly, feeling the boy physically relax into your touch.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Harry chimes, as you pull out of the hug.

“Yes, I do. And I hope you’re okay with that,” you share, crimson spilling onto your cheeks.

Harry nods, a grin spreading across his face, “I am, really. I know I acted in jealousy at the ball, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually felt romantically towards you - not that you’re unlikeable, you know, just -”

You laugh out loud, cutting him off, and offer a nod, “I get it, don’t stress yourself out, mate.”

He nods in relief, “you’re my best friend, Y/N/N, and that’s it. I love our relationship, and I do not want it to ever change.”

You nod, feeling better than you have in nearly a month.

Ron and Hermione choose that exact moment to enter the room, the guilt of eavesdropping written on their faces. But you’re far too happy to care - the gang’s back together.

******

Over the next month, life returns to normal, or rather, a new normal. Hermione is hanging out with Krum as much as possible, to make the most of their time together before the tournament ends and he returns to Durmstrang. You don’t see her nearly as much anymore, but it’s understandable.

Instead, you spend your days either studying out on the greens with Harry and Ron, or hanging out with Cedric, going to Hogsmeade’s various little cafes.

The second tournament task comes along, and you, Hermione, and Ron are pulled into the headmaster’s office then sent to the bottom of the Black Lake. When you awake, Cedric is treading water to keep the two of you above the lake, and you’re quickly pulled out and given a warm towel. Since Cedric finished first, the two of you rest in the champion seating section, and the boy keeps asking you if you’re okay, despite your fervent exclamations that you’re probably doing better than he is.

His friends soon surround him, arriving with endless teasing about how you’re the person “he’ll sorely miss,” and Cedric flushes scarlet at their words, refusing to meet your eyes. Eventually, he manages to shove them all away, and looks down to see you grinning.

“Ced, just so you know, I would’ve sorely missed you too,” you admit, before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Suddenly, Cedric could care less about his friends. He feels warm and dry and cozy, not a trace of the Black Lake’s eeriness on his mind.

******

A few weeks later, and it’s your birthday. Cedric had wracked his brain for ways to top your surprise party for him, and enlisted the help of the trio to do so. Hermione contributed all your likes and dislikes: she knew you like the back of her hand; Ron got Fred and George to put together a little sparkler show for you, and Harry was in charge of inviting all your closest friends.

The day of, you wake up to Cedric’s voice, before he gives you five minutes to pick an outfit, then promptly blindfolds you and leads you out to the courtyard, where the cutest picnic party had been set up. You laugh in delight, ecstatic, and after a quick kiss for Ced, rush over to meet up with your friends.

As you catch up over drinks with them, two boys, one Gryffindor, one Hufflepuff, are standing a distance away, both looking at you with slight smiles.

Soon, the sky is darkening and the party growing more and more uproarious. You spin around to see Harry and Cedric talking, and grin. Strolling over, you place an arm around each. Cedric kisses your hair, and you give Harry a tight hug.

“Thank you for all of this,” you say, “seriously. I’ve never been happier.”

Before they can reply: you were never one for cheesy emotions, you (forcibly) pull them toward the karaoke machine, where Ron and Hermione are singing their hearts out.

****** THE END! interested in my other works? see my masterlist!

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honeybow · 25 days

Note

I have a cute idea for a Ron Fic where he takes polyjuice potion and fills in for Harry’s classes for a day - when he’s in charms a Hufflepuff girl asks him (as Harry) “you’re Ron’s friend right?” And then he gets flustered and wants to meet her as himself because no one ever thinks of him first he’s always “Harry’s friend” not the other way around

POLYJUICE

omg i loved this idea i’m sorry if i didn’t write it how you wanted!

she/her - fluff ☁️

It felt strange, watching the Polyjuce potion do it’s magic. Harry had begged Ron to cover for him for a day, and after he promised some big favours, Ron couldn’t turn the offer down.

The day had dragged on, and Ron wasn’t the most academic anyway. He almost couldn’t remember why he agreed to do an extra day of school. The worst was potions by far. He got bullied enough by Snape as himself, and it only got worse as Harry. Looking back, though, he supposed it was all worth it. Because he met her.

He already knew of her, of course. She was (y/n) (l/n). She was a Hufflepuff, known for how sweet and kind she was. She was also drop-dead-gorgeous, so obviously Ron had never spoken a word to her.

Ron arrived late to Charms, mentally apologising to Harry as he walked in. Apparently, the seating arrangements had been changed, and (y/n) was now sat next to Harry. Lucky git.

She smiled at him as he sat down, and Ron had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Of course she was into the whole ‘boy who lived thing’. Who bloody wasn’t!

“Hello.” She whispered, smiling cutely. “I’m (y/n).”

“I’m R-Harry.” Merlin, she was making him nervous. He tried to avoid making eye contact with her after noticing that she has very pretty eyes.

“I know.” Of course she did. “Because you’re Ron Weasleys friend, aren’t you? He used to sit next to my friend in Potions. She always said he was so funny. I always hoped I’d get to talk to him one day.”

Ron felt himself blush. She knew Harry because of him? No way. Maybe she was a muggle, that would explain it. (y/n) wanted to talk to him! Merlin, how he wished he didn’t look like his best friend right now. No one ever thought of Harry as Ron’s best friend, it was always the other way around.

“I- uh- I guess I could arrange… that. You two, y’know, meeting.” Ron fumbled with his words, feeling the tips of his ears growing red.

“Oh, would you! Thank you, Harry. That’s so nice.” She grinned, and Ron felt winded. She really was beautiful.

“You won’t tell him, will you?” Her face dropped, and she looked nervous.

“Tell him what?” Ron was confused. Girls are so weird. Why wouldn’t Harry tell him? How are they supposed to meet if Harry didn’t tell him.

“That- you know… well, maybe next time I see you talking, I’ll come over and talk to you and then you can introduce us?” She nibbled at her lip nervously. Ron tried not to stare.

“Can’t you just, like, go and introduce yourself after class?” His confusion overtook however flustered he might feel.

“No! He might think I’m weird.” She leant a little closer and lowered her voice. “I need to make a good impression.” Ron felt his heartbeat quicken as she drew closer.

“I-I don’t think he will, (y/n).” He mumbled, sure that if he was in his usual body he would be bright red by now.

“Just introduce us next time you see us, okay?” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Sure.” He smiled to himself.

They talked more throughout the lesson, and Ron weirdly felt himself getting jealous. She was laughing at his jokes, and even though it was actually Ron dressed up, she thought she was talking to Harry. The whole thing made his head hurt.

As they left the classroom, (y/n) stopped him with a soft hand on his arm that sent tingles throughout his body.

“Remember to introduce us, okay!”

Merlin, she really wanted to meet him. Why on earth would she want to that badly? She just spoke to the boy who lived, and all she could talk about was his best friend. Maybe he shouldn’t introduce himself. She obviously had something wrong with her.

“Why do you want to meet him so bad?” He mumbled, only half expecting her to hear.

“You haven’t guessed? If you promise not to tell him…” She spoke quietly, with a conniving smirk that still somehow made her look sweet, and Ron nodded eagerly.

“I think he’s cute.” She giggled.

He was sure that his entire face was purple by now, and his palms grew sweaty. There’s no way a girl as pretty and nice as (y/n) would like him!

“Hey, Harry. Your hair… it’s starting to get really light. I didn’t notice that before. Some parts are almost ginger.” She looked confused.

“Oh! Yep, let Neville try out a new spell and it didn’t really work, so- you know, uh, I’ve really gotta go now.” Ron panicked, if she realised, she would never want to go out with him.

He sped off, cheeks flushed and heart racing for more reasons than one. As he watched his features come back in the mirror of his dorm, he smiled slightly.

“You thought about what favour you want from me yet?” Harry asked, watching Ron turn back to normal.

“I think I have an idea.”

#xreaders #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x you

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aza-writes · 8 months

Text

All Night

Hogwarts Parties Series

Draco Malfoy x reader, Past Harry Potter x reader

Requested: no

Summary: Reader invites her boyfriend, Draco, to a Gryffindor party. What happens when she means to put on a little show for Draco, but Harry enjoys it a bit too much himself?

Warnings: alludes to smut, actual smut, dirty talk, Draco’s hands, vague description of a female body, drug use mention. Use of y/n

A/N: This was my therapy. Also, I watched the “10 Things I Hare about You” table dance scene sooo many times prepping for this. Also, this is my first smut so feedback is welcomed. The use of drugs relates to upcoming fics, all a part of a mini non-related series that focuses on parties at Hogwarts, so Hufflepuffs smoke, grow, and sell while Slytherin is their top seller. It’s like that TikTok trend from March.

Gif: @love-above

Draco’s POV

Never in a million years did I think I would be at a Gryffindor party, nor would I fall in love with a Gryffindor who would invite me to a Gryffindor party. Nonetheless, here I am, sipping on fire whisky as a mix of red and yellow figures swirl around me, but none of them matter. What matters is the giggling girl in front of me holding a ⅔ full bottle of fire whisky with her house tie wrapped around her head. And I only had a glass and a half, and she’s managed to drink the rest by herself. And no, she can not hold her liquor well.

Even now, when we are standing close to the wall, she swayed her hips while singing along to the muggle song blasting throughout the common room, only stopping momentarily to take a swig out of the bottle. She manages to capture the attention of every guy in the room, yet she doesn’t notice. All she cares about is knowing all the words to the song, and when she doesn’t, she drinks. But I can’t even concentrate on that. All I can see is her tight, low-rise jeans that barely sit above her hips and a shirt that exposes her whole midsection. She loves the attention, and she thrives in it. No wonder she’s in Gryffindor.

“Drayyy,” she turns around and gives me puppy dog eyes, “let's go dance! Come dance with me!” She takes a swig out of the fire whisky bottle, allowing the alcohol to give her even more confidence than she already had, causing an “I can do or say anything” mentality.

“I’m not sure, darling; I think they’ll boo me off the dance floor.”

Y/n frowns at this. “But yoou dance at the Sslytherinn oness.” She then wraps her arms around my neck, never stopping the movement of her hips. “Please dance with me, Dray.”

“In a minute, my love, I need a bit more of anything in my system before I have a fraction of your courage.”

She sticks out her tongue like a child and returns to a dopey, drunk smile before sloppily kissing me. “Okay, baby-” As soon as she was about to say something else, she pauses. She focuses hard, then gasps. “Draco! This is my song! I’m dancing with or without you.” Before I could answer, she heads off to the dancefloor.

Y/n meets up with her friend, whose braids have appropriately incorporated red and yellow, and dances with her. More accurately, dances on her. I’m mesmerized as her hips sway to the beat, and she uses the bottle as a microphone. I don’t even recognize the song, but y/n doesn’t miss a word, even in her drunken state.

I’m amused at her little dance and have gathered enough courage to go out and dance with her when I notice her eyes light up as the lyrics sing, “What’s wrong with right here on the counter?” Right next to her is a table that previously hosted a beer pong tournament that now sits vacant. It was like Merlin was speaking to her, telling her exactly what she had to do next. Before I could even register what was happening, with fire whisky in hand, y/n climbed onto the table and began dancing again.

With her new stage, she gained a lot more attention. She never missed a beat, her hands, head, and hips moving in sync. As the cheers grew, so did her confidence, allowing her to do even more provocative moves. But her eyes never landed on the many boys and girls around her. No, they landed on me every second they could. And her attention enough to pull me in.

I stride over to the table, starting to feel the effects of the fire whisky slowly sink into my system. I worm my way through the crowd, pushing people out of my way to get to the edge of the table. If this is a show for me, I want a front-row seat.

She runs her hands over her body, keeping eye contact with me as she performs for her whole house. She throws her hair back and swirls her hips around, all aimed at me. As the first chorus comes to an end she raises the bottle to her lips and sings along.

She keeps me up

“I keep you up!”

She keeps me up

“I keep you up!” This time, it wasn’t just y/n but the whole common room.

All night

“All night!”

All night

“All night!”

As I watch her begin to dance to the second verse, I can’t help but notice one figure across the table. Staring right up at my girlfriend, my y/n, was fucking Potter. His mouth was gaped open, mesmerized at her movements. Usually, I wouldn’t be that upset; most people realize y/n is mine and back off immediately, understanding they are just making trouble for themselves. But this is different because it’s Potter, my enemy Potter, or even worse, y/n’s ex-boyfriend Potter.

He’s so enamored with her that he doesn’t even realize I’m glaring daggers at him, but y/n notices. She looks down at me, realizing my attention isn’t on her. She follows my gaze, landing on Potter. When she makes eye contact with him he blushes, knowing he's been caught. I expected him to stop staring at her and go anywhere else, but no. All he does is smile and wave at her.

Potter fucking smiles and waves.

At MY y/n.

Y/n continues to dance, making her moves flow to the beat, but instead of her eyes on me, she keeps them on Potter. My jealousy forces me to keep my eyes on Potter too, watching his reaction to my girlfriend dancing. Fucking Potter couldn’t be bothered by me. He doesn’t care about how he’s staring at another man’s girlfriend.

I’m so consumed by jealousy that y/n’s face across from mine startles me a bit. She’s all I can see. She places her hand on my chin and forces me to look at her.

“Hi.” She smiles, her eyes glimmering with mischievous and lustful intent.

“Hello, darling.” I can feel my face and eyes soften while looking at hers. There’s something about her, I can’t tell if it calms me down or riles me up.

She winks at me then gets back up and dances again. She then returns her attention to me, no longer looking at Potter. Her eyes trained on mine. Her dance moves were intentional. It wasn’t until the song ended that she got off the table. The crowd that formed around her started cheering and going wild at her performance. They whistled and begged for “just one more song!” Despite everyone around her cheering, my eyes fall on Potter’s.

He doesn’t even notice I’m there until y/n stands next to me and kisses my cheek. The whole Gryffindor common room becomes a bit quieter upon seeing me in there. I’ve been able to go unnoticed until now. Everyone just stares at me, giving me confused and disgusted looks. I’m unsure how to feel. I don’t even care. I didn’t come to insult them or to cause trouble, I came for y/n.

She kisses my cheek again and turns my head to look at her, wrapping her arms around my neck. Instinctively my hands landed on her waist. I can feel the heat radiating off her arms. The heat of our bodies was circling between us two.

Between kisses on my cheek, neck, and nose she giggles and says “How did you like it?”

“I liked it when you were looking at me.”

“Really? Cause you paid more attention to me when I looked at Potter.” She moves her arms from around my neck to hold my hand and leads me away from the middle of the room and up to her dorm and away from the scowls in my direction.

I pause, unsure of what to say. Was this her plan? I knew she was trying to make me jealous with Potter but did she know I would become this upset? Did she know I would react this way?

“You tricky little minx.” It’s all I can manage to say, especially when she starts to run her hands over my arms, wiggling my jacket off my shoulders.

Y/n still faces me as she opens the door behind her back. “You weren’t watching me, so I made you.” She brings her leg up and kicks the door in with one foot, walking backward into the room as she pulls me by the collar of my jacket. As soon as the door is closed she fully takes my jacket off my body, then slowly unbuttons my shirt.

“Like I said, tricky little thing aren’t you?” I let out a small chuckle at her boldness. Typical Gryffindor, in all the right ways.

“I know what I want, what I want is your attention.” She turns us around and pushes me onto the bed, my shirt fully unbuttoned. She smiles at me as she strips off her shirt, discarding it somewhere in the room. I couldn’t be bothered to look where it went though, my eyes were trained on y/n’s.

“You have it love, I couldn’t imagine taking it off of you.”

A little smile pops up on her face, a light blush creeps across her cheeks. She unbuttons her jeans, pulls them down, and steps out. “Good boy.” She climbs onto my lap and sits herself down. Instinctively my hands land on her hips, gripping tightly to ensure she doesn’t leave my sight. “You’ll keep being a good boy for me, right baby?”

“I need to be a good boy?” She nods. “You’re the one that needs to be taught to behave. Showing off like that in front of Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” She giggles lightly.

“Yes darling, now be my good girl and lay down on the bed.”

Her smirk stays as she gets up from my lap and onto the bed, resting against the perfectly propped-up pillows. “Only for you.”

I step out of my pants as I climb onto the bed. It only takes a light tap on y/n’s calf for y/n to prop her legs up and spread them. She’s still wearing the smirk on her face, naughty little thing thinks she’s won.

“Since I danced for you, you should dance for me.” She giggles a bit. Poor girl thinks she’s going to get away with her little stunt that easily is she?

I let out a small chuckle, not wanting her to know my true intentions for tonight. I waste no time with my plan and kiss the inside of her thighs. Even though I want the plan to start quickly, the plan is nothing but fast. This will be a very, very long night. I slowly kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly inching toward her pussy. Her breath hitches. One heel drags down the length of the bed before going back up to its prompt-up position.

I kiss closer and closer to her clit, teasing around it. Y/n’s moans turn lighter, airier. Her hands drift down and grip my hair. I sit up and pull away, causing y/n to whine.

“I didn’t give you permission to touch me, darling. Only good girls get to and you were so, so naughty tonight. Do you understand?” I look up at her lightly, her smirk and any pride drops. All she does is nod, I need more. “Use your words, princess.”

Her eyes turn soft, making puppy dog eyes at me. “Yes, I’m sorry.” The way she gave in too quickly isn’t enough. She’s planning on doing something again. She hasn’t learned, she’s only saying that to get her way—such a naughty girl.

“No, that isn’t going to cut it.” I get up, causing her to whine even more, such a pathetic slut. “Stop it, or don’t. Depends on if you want to get punished. I can not make you cum tonight if that’s what you want.” That got her attention. She shakes her head, worry fills her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

I walk to the top of the bed and rip the Gryffindor tie off her head. “Hands.” She immediately puts her wrists together above her head. I love how submissive she becomes. She projects such a confident, independent persona that all crashes down as soon as I call her a good girl. Merlin, I fucking love it.

I wrap her wrist tight on the headboard, making sure she can’t get out but wanting to avoid unnecessary pain.

“Use your words, darling.” I stand at the end of her bed, facing her. “What do you want me to do to you?”

“Touch me Draco.” She keeps her eyes on me and raises her voice a bit more, trying to keep some control.

I smirk at her, causing her to let down her guard again. “Such a confident girl, yet you can’t ask me properly how you want me to fuck you. If you just want me to touch you I can put my clothes back on and we can cuddle all night, but I think you want more.” I get on the bed, placing my hands on either side of y/n, hovering over her. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me.” there’s a pause. I’m waiting for a complete response. She knows better. “P-please.”

I kiss her softly. As I pull away I gently bite and pull her bottom lip a bit before letting go. “Good girl.”

I sit up and grab my wand from the pocket of my jacket and point it at the door. “Muffilato. Colloportus.” I set my wand back where it was then hover back over y/n. “I don’t think any of your friends downstairs will notice with all the noise, but just in case.” I slowly crawl down to the edge of the bed, returning to my previous position. I kiss around her pussy again, inching closer and closer to her clit but carefully avoiding it. “ I want you as loud as possible for me.”

She nods, but it’s cut off by her throwing her head back as I lick a long stripe up the length of her folds. Although I’m getting some sort of reaction, the lack of noise from her is very upsetting. I am the first one to admit it, I’m greedy when it comes to this. I need her screaming and shaking by the end of this.

I move one of y/n’s legs so her thigh sits on top of my shoulder, giving me a better angle of her soaked pussy. She’s glistening at this point. Her buzzed state amplifies the teasing, making every touch linger longer.

Every time my nose brushes against her clit, a loud, resounding moan leaves her mouth. Her eyes closed tight and she yanks on her tie, trying to escape the makeshift binding.

After teasing her clit for a while, leaving small kisses on it then going back to tongue fucking her pussy, she squirms a bit.

“Dray, please.” She swallows. “I need more. Quit teasing.”

I sit up, causing her to whine even more at the loss of contact. “I’m sorry darling, I thought you said you would be good for me?” I lightly bite the inside of her thigh, instigating more little yelps and whines from y/n.

“You’ll get what I think you deserve.” I bite the inside again, this time a little higher up. “Besides, you’re clearly enjoying this. Even though your thighs are covering my ears, I can hear every little sound you make.” I slap the outside of her thigh and make her open up her legs again. She complies almost instantly, and I go back to devouring every inch of her I can get my mouth on; this time though, I pay a bit more attention to her clit.

She continues to pull on the restraint and buck her hips up. I had to result in holding her hips down tight against the bed so I could continue.

She’s lucky I love her or I wouldn’t put up with this defiance.

But she knows I like the cat and mouse just as much as she does.

Her eyes stay shut tight as I suck on her clit and slide one finger into her dripping pussy. I curl my fingers before she gets to adjust to the new sensation. After only a few seconds, I slowly pump my fingers while feverishly sucking on her clit. Her moans went from soft and quiet to loud and breathless. Her brain is turning to mush as her walls tighten around my fingers. She’s close, but I want her on the edge. I want her on the cusp before I finally…

There it is.

I pull my fingers out and detach my lips from her clit. She whines again, trying her hardest to buck her hips up to get some form of contact. I kiss along the inside of her thighs and up her torso, giving extra attention to her hip bones and in between her breasts.

I can feel her breath becoming increasingly rapid, her chest rising and falling faster. Little whines escape her lips as I leave hickeys all over her breast, collarbone, and neck. There wasn’t a surface unmarked when I made it to her lips.

I pull away, making her whine even more. I go back to marking up her neck. “You won’t cover these up tomorrow. I want everyone to see them.” She nods as I suck on the spot behind her ear that makes her weak every time. “A painting just for Potter to see.”

I can feel myself growing harder inside my boxers. Y/n can feel it too dragging against her thigh, or I assume so from the groans she lets out whenever I accidentally brush my hips against her. Even I can’t help myself from letting out a groan.

I can’t wait any longer, I need to be in her.

I pull away from her, shoving my underwear off before she even has the chance to complain. I get back on top of her and smash my lips onto hers. She smirks during the kiss, I do too a bit. I slip my tongue in gently as I ease myself into her dripping pussy. I hand my head down and moan, relieved to finally be inside her. Her high-pitched moans bring me so much confidence, it’s a nice ego boost knowing I get this reaction out of her.

After giving y/n some time to adjust, I start to thrust slowly.

As much as I love the control and dominance I have over y/n I want her hands clinging to me. I can’t just untie her hands and let her think she can be bratty whenever she wants. Right now, I would kill for her nails scratching my hair and down my back. I need the sting that mixes with the pleasure. As much as she needed my hands on her, I need hers on me right now.

“Fuck it.” I reach up and untie her hands. Thankfully, she immediately brings her hands to the nape of my neck, letting her nails scratch my scalp and a little down my back. That little action intensifies the moment. Her hands know exactly what to do. I can feel them scratch down my back, causing me to let out a loud grunt and go faster. Her moans continue, each one ringing and lingering in my ears, my head.

I can feel my hips faltering, stuttering with every thrust. I’m getting close, so is y/n. I lift one leg up to rest on my hip, letting me reach a better angle.

“Dray,” her voice is so airy, “I-I’m so close.”

“Me too darling,” I pick up my pace even more, “let go for me.”

Almost instantly, she does. She squeezes around me and arches her back as she cums all over my cock. With two more thrusts, I cum as well. I stay in that position for a few seconds before carefully pulling out. As I do, y/n takes a long deep breath in. She only releases it when I lay down next to her.

“I love you Draco.” I turn to look at her, her chest rising and falling, working hard to catch her breath.

“I love you too darling.” I lean over and kiss her head. “I love you so, so much.”

I get up to try and to get something to clean her up with, but she pulls me back into the bed.

“Just,” she takes another deep breath, “Just stay here, with me.”

I just nod. I don’t know what else to do, this moment is so perfect. I have everything I’ll ever need whenever I’m with her. Right here, right now must be the definition of heaven. She is my heaven.

Taglist:

@alinefrank

#draco malfoy x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #draco smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy smut #draco x you #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction

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whinlatter · 9 months

Note

In your opinion when did Ginny start drifting away from Dean? What was it that made her decide she didn’t want to be with him anymore? I know it can’t just be him helping her through the door because it’s such a small reason to break up with someone. Did she start to notice Harry noticing her? Or did the relationship run it’s course?

are you ready for an unhinged galaxy brain take from me

I actually think Ginny started to suspect something had changed in Harry's feelings for her not long after he himself realised, after the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, early November. The scraps of evidence for this headcanon are few and far between but you can nonetheless prise them from my cold dead hands. Even before Harry himself realised he had feelings for Ginny, he was asking to hang out with her (on the train, in Hogsmeade) in ways that definitely would have seemed new. Then after the match itself:

'Laughing, Harry broke free of the rest of the team and hugged Ginny, but let go very quickly. Avoiding her gaze, he clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air and waving to their supporters.'

Ginny is a very good reader of Harry's emotions and responses at this point in the series. She seems to clock that Harry has just given her this very weird, out of character hug - weird both in that it's clearly very physically awkward and brief, but also weird in that Harry has given her a hug at all, when he's never initiated a hug with any other character before, let alone her. Then, this chat at the after party, immediately after Harry has just ditched a group of admiring (and extremely willing) girls flirting with him:

'“It looks like he’s eating her face, doesn’t it?” said Ginny dispassionately. “But I suppose he’s got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry.” She patted him on the arm; Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to more butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her, his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold.'

This is the first time Ginny touches Harry in the series. It's innocuous enough to anyone watching - Chaser pats Captain on the arm after a game - but given how unusual it is for Ginny to touch Harry, so soon after their previous strange interaction where Harry initiated touch with Ginny for the first time, I think we can see this interaction as Ginny testing her theory. (Tbh I think Harry's response to her here, including the fact that he literally doesn't even speak in front her lol, would give her even more reason for suspicion.)

I basically think Dean and Ginny are doomed after this. Not because I think Ginny would be like great Harry likes me time to break up with Dean - I think she's got months of pranging out about it ahead of her. But I think the stage is set for Ginny starting to actively compare Dean to Harry, and finding him wanting. Between the more morsels of evidence she gets in the following weeks (taking Luna to the ball, the maggot incident), and how miserable Ginny seems at the prospect of going back to Dean in the New Year, I think there's good reason to suspect she had clocked that Harry might, at long last, be returning feelings for her. (I tried to talk a bit about Ginny's view of Dean here).

I know a lot of fics and general fanon has Hermione working Harry's crush out first and pointing it out to Ginny, but I actually really don't buy this! There's no real proof of Hermione noticing Harry's changing feelings for Ginny until really late on. On the topic of Slughorn's party, she tells him to "just invite someone", and doesn't seem to suspect anything after he lies that there's no-one he wants to invite. I genuinely don't think Hermione knew until mid-March:

“Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it,” said Harry, still trying to sound casual. “Or are they still together?” “Yes, they are — but why are you so interested?” asked Hermione, giving Harry a sharp look. “I just don’t want my Quidditch team messed up again!” he said hastily, but Hermione continued to look suspicious, and he was most relieved when a voice behind them called, “Harry!” giving him an excuse to turn his back on her.

Of course, after this point, Hermione is in full super sleuth mode. To Hermione, Ginny's argument with Dean suddenly makes a lot more sense now she's realised that a) Harry likes Ginny and b) Ginny has already worked out Harry likes her and so is sabotaging her relationship with Dean. After Ginny and Dean break up while Harry is on Felix Felicis (subtle from HJP), Hermione knows for sure what's going on, and is deliciously smug and unsubtle about it in ways that makes me think if she had known before this, she would have let on. It's true that Harry is oblivious, but it's also true that Hermione has never passed up a chance to say I told you so (she's just like me fr)

#hinny #meta #TL;DR ginny weasley knew as soon as that man came in for a cuddle #'harry potter wants to HUG ME? oh shit i'm in trouble' - ginny weasley #probably #thank you anon!#trying to work through my inbox i'm so sorry this week has been a fresh fiery hellscape of deadlines #doin my best forgive me forgive me

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cherry-pop-elf · 2 months

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hello! 🌷 is it okay to request weasley twins x hufflepuff reader that was tortured by umbridge, but didn't give away the prank / bad thing that the twins did? out of loyalty for them

maybe comfort too, since they're thankful to reader and also feel guilty for what umbridge done to her. could be pre-dating or already dating them !!

have a lovely day 🎀

As a Hufflepuff who would have 100% been forced to not use their wheelchair because Umbridge would think I was faking my disability for attention, yeah we gonna get some Whump in this shit. ((Lowkey having some rough shit going on mentally so some vent fic like this will be hella. Thanks anon! Perfect timing!

—————————————————

Honey Wounds

Warning: Violence, Umbridge in general, blood, torture, whump, hurt/comfort 🎆🐝🎇

“Where’s little bumble bee-?” The twins would worry, as they had wondered why you didn’t show up to the secret little defense class Harry started up. Where could their little Hufflepuff be? Had them a little worried. By little, it was a lot. Things have been getting a lot more tense recently. Umbridge was really hammering down, and she was making her mission to find a way to get those two into Azkaban. By any means possible. The only reason she hasn’t was probably because of Percy somehow. As they worried, someone was quick to grab them.

“Fred, George, something bad happened. Something really bad happened-!” The first year was crying, and the duo were on red alert now. The poor kid was in to many tears to really speak, so they figured there was no need to. George was quick to pick the first year up, as the child was just pointing. Fred was in the running lead, as George was trying to comfort the child. The poor kid was hiccuping, and seeming so scared. Something bad happened, and they had to figure out what it was. That’s when they saw it. Blood on the barrels, like someone was slapping bloody hand’s desperately to get into the Hufflepuff dorm.

“Shit shit shit, what did she do now-?” Fred hissed, as he tried to focus on entering the dorm. Having to get literal blood on his hands, in order to get inside. With the pattern played, the duo were able to run inside. Left to see the Hufflepuff dorm full of noise. So many students all busy and around someone. When Hannah Abbott noticed the twins, she stepped away. Pulling away fellow students, and the horror was on display.

“Fred, George…..?” It was you, and you were not looking hot. Not looking hot at all. You were horribly pale, and your hands looked as if they had been through a chopping block. The fellow Puff’s had done their best to try and help, but it was like they wouldn’t stop bleeding. George had instantly covered the first years eyes, despite the fact the child had long seen it. It was just habit after all.

“WHAT HAPPENED-?!” Fred was soon by your side, while George was quick to hand the child off to someone. Now he was on your other side. You were just to tired to really process it all, given the blood loss. If it wasn’t for their brilliant hair, you would have assumed it was just more worried Hufflepuff’s. Just trying so hard to help. It’s rather scary. Sure, it’s Hogwarts. Things get violent, but this wasn’t just a random accident. Nor some run in with a beast. This was a woman who wanted to hurt.

“I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell her-“ You managed to say, with a smile. The twins looked at each other, wondering what you were blabbering about, before they were quick to take over. The Puff’s made sure to stay out of their way, as the twins were able to move in ever perfect unison. Not needing to speak, to move. Fred was quick to start emptying their bags, as George was taking care in trying to wash the wounds on your hands.

“I know it’s in here, come on out you bastard-“ Fred hissed, as he sorted through the assortment of old tins they had collected. Each with its own experiment, as George tried to not freak out. Seeing you hurt like this. It was making him feel so many emotions. Anger at Umbridge, fear for what that woman will do next, sadness for your pain, anxiety on it Ron and Ginny would be next. It was all so loud in his eyes, as he tried not to let the tears spill.

“Found it-!” Fred sighed, as he was quick to start lathering a strange substance on your hands. It felt rather strange. As if he was lathering your open wounds with pudding. You expected it to hurt, but it was rather nice. Very cooling to your burning wounds. It would soon seem to harden on your fingers and palms. As if stopping you from bleeding, and absorbing the blood. Forcing it to stay inside. If you weren’t so dizzy, you would praise them for being so smart.

“Bumble Bee….What happened?” Fred asked, as George was busy with someone. Quick to get some water from one of the prefects, and try and nurse it into your body. George was gentle, and you needed it. You choked on it, but he knew you had to drink some. You lost alot of blood, and you had to stay hydrated. He would keep your head against his chest, as you managed to get some down. Enough to satisfy him, and calm his nerves. You could feel how sweaty his hands were, with worry, as he stroked your hair. With a few minutes to breath, you spoke.

“She brought me to her office. Asked me who had broken in it last night. I said I didn’t know. She didn’t like that, but I didn’t give up.” You smiled, as the twins were staring in horror. They broke into her office, last night. They swore they didn’t leave behind a trace. They had to break in. She confiscated Ginny’s bracelet. Said she fiddled with it too much. It was made just for her, by Bill. Ever since the incident in the chamber of secrets, she was more susceptible to dark magic. So, a Curse breaker made her something to help. Umbridge was actively putting her in danger. How could they not protect their little sister?

“It was a trap…..She did that on purpose-“ Fred realized, as it made sense. Of course they would break in to get it back. That horrid woman. “Can’t believe she dragged you into this. I mean, I can, but you get the point I’m making here! We’re so sorry Honey Bee-“ George would soon echo, as he kissed your head. Feeling so guilty. You didn’t blame them, of course, but they sure didn’t stop feeling guilty.

“It’s ok. Im ok. Ginny needed it. Like I would ever rat you two out.” You tried to reassure them, but their minds were made up. They had to do something about Umbridge. This woman was going insane. The twins swore she wasn’t aware that you three were in a relationship of sorts. They were magical twins. Not fair to compare them to muggle ones. They shared a partner, no big deal. Communication makes the dream work. Seems like maybe you three communicated in the wrong hallway one to many times, and she put two and two together.

“We are going to fix this. We promise.” The twins spoke, as they comforted you. George with keeping your head to his chest, as Fred was between your legs. Hugging your stomach, and nuzzling into your thigh. Just needing to hold onto you. As if you would disintegrate into his hands then and there. You would have comforted him, but it didn’t seem like your hands wanted to exist at the moment.

“Looks like we can’t wait for that down payment any longer. Now or never.” George said, as Fred gave a defeated sigh. He was right. If they stayed at Hogwarts any longer, Merlin knows who else she will drag into their mess. George was right, it was now or never. Because never means they’ll be in Azkaban for murdering her at this point.

“Say, Bumble bee….Think you can handle living in a rundown hollowed building for a while?” Fred asked, as you tried to focus your eyes. You didn’t really understand half of what they were saying, but you knew this. Wherever they went, you would follow. “What makes it any different from a dungeon?” You tried to joke, and that seemed to solidify the deal. Look out world, the Weasley Twins were about to show off their latest invention.

The WhizBang

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pappydaddy · 1 year

Text

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)

tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader

requested by the lovely @readingfan (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this

synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.

warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).

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- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.

However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them.

While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her.

“She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information.

Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them.

Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip.

But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture.

“Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.

“Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand.

“Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her.

“Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.”

The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better.

____

It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable.

Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.

However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read.

“Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled.

“One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms.

The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”

“That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line.

“Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles.

“Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought.

“Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book.

“I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money.

“Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand.

“Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed.

He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right.

And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst.

“Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint.

“Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better.

Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things.

“Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him.

He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left.

Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball.

As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.

“Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing.

“Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt.

The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet.

Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there. When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”

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shownusgfayoooo · 6 months

Text

A Significant Night

Pairing: Slytherin!Seonghwa x Ravenclaw! f! reader ft. Ravenclaw! bestfriend! Hongjoong

Summary: Set the night Sirius Black attempts to break into Gryffindor Tower in Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban, but Y/N, HongJoong, and SeongHwa are 7th years, the 99 line is in 6th, and Jongho is in 5th year

T/W: perceived danger

Words: ~5k almost

A/N: I LOVE SIRIUS MORE THAN ANYTHING ik he's not a murderer but this is the point in the canon where we don't know that yet so that's the info that the characters (ateez and you) in this fic have to go off of ok

my masterlist

The rain was especially thunderous tonight. You tossed restlessly your bed for the fifth time and stuffed another pillow above your head. Still, sleep was evading you. The water hit the window of your dorm in Ravenclaw tower like shards of ice, and the lighting that briefly illuminated the room cracked against the back of your eyelids in bright white flashes.

You had barely managed to slip into some halfway place between consciousness and unconsciousness when raised voices could be heard from the common room, five flights below you. The sudden unexpectedness of people talking so loud at 1 in the morning set your heart racing, but you tried to ignore it. This became impossible however when the sounds of footsteps started echoing down the stairs and doors opening up and down the tower woke you up completely.

Your friend Hongjoong grumbled some gibberish and turned over one of the four empty beds in your dorm. You were lucky enough to only have two roommates this semester, making only three girls to the dorm that could house five, but one of them had snuck into the Hufflepuff dorms to stay with her boyfriend like she usually did and the other had gone home for the weekend due to some family emergency.

You didn’t mind him crashing because Hongjoong was the ideal roommate. He was usually in the library all night, and whenever he was actually in the room, he was mostly organized and quiet. It wasn’t allowed of course, so the rule breaking aspect of the whole situation did stress you out sometimes, but honestly, Hongjoong was smart enough to not be caught, and by extension, he was smart enough to not get you caught either. Hell, he had even managed to counteract the charm that made the stairs turn into a slide whenever a boy tried to climb them. It still made you laugh when you thought about the reason why he had been pushed to break a thousand-year-old enchantment like it was child’s play. Usually, he had his best friend Seonghwa from Slytherin give him a broom ride up to Gryffindor Tower to crash with San and Wooyoung Seonghwa and Jongho absolutely refused to put up with Hongjoong’s manic hours and general chaos, and Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho in Hufflepuff always felt a little bit too far out of the way to your friend. But, Gryffindor had beat Slytherin in Quidditch two weeks ago, and ever since then, Seonghwa had refused to take Hongjoong up, lest he suffer more of San and Wooyoung’s bullying. You had the whole room to yourself most of the time, so you were quick to oblige your best friend. Catching a glimpse of Seonghwa on the few occasions he would bring Hongjoong up before he broke the charm that impeded his entry into the Tower was also the highlight of your life.

Hongjoong barely slept, but when he did, it was like the dead. You tossed him a worried glance as the voices outside got louder, before quickly rushing to the door and peeping your head out. You looked about in bewilderment as everyone from the girls’ tower seemed to be leaving their rooms.

“What’s going on?” Nobody seemed to have an answer, “I have no idea,” “Can’t be anything good this time of night,” “I hope we’re not in danger? Quick, let’s run through some defensive spells just to be on our toes-” You turned to the left to see the prefect was making her way back up the stairs against the throng of traffic moving down. “Everyone, please make their way to the common room! No running, please. Stay calm. I’m just making sure we didn’t miss anybody; please continue to the common room. Professor Flitwick will be here in a few minutes to explain what’s going on!”

Your heart started to pound again, as you rushed back into your room. Why would she tell everyone to stay calm unless there was a very real reason to panic? You threw Hongjoong’s discarded niffler plush at his head as you rushed to put on some shoes. He gasped, sitting up. “What was that for?” He was glaring at you, pushing hair out of her eyes.

“Get up; we have to go, right now.” His eyes fully opened at the restrained tension in your voice. He turned to the door to see the rest of your Housemates rushing past and quickly got up. “I assume the situation at hand is not us getting in trouble for breaking some antiquated patriarchal rules,” he smiled at you weakly, trying to ease the tension.

“No,” you responded wryly. “I really don’t think they’d evacuate all the Ravenclaw girls to give them a lecture about you and I breaking one teeny tiny rule. That everyone breaks anyways!” You had joined the throng going down the stairs as you finished your sentence, sounding almost hysterical. Hongjoong just linked his elbow through yours, as his eyes flashed with worry but also to keep a hold of you in the crowd. It wasn’t just the girls that had been rushed out of bed, you saw, as you ducked under the archway into the common room, only to see it full of boys. Everyone was lining up by year, and you saw Hongjoong nod to his roommates (Snore #1 and Snore #2 you called them in your head) who had been looking worried at not having been able to account for him. Just at that moment, the door to the Tower opened. A hush descended over the crowd.

“Ah, hello students, I apologize for the interruption this evening, or should I say morning?” Weak chuckles answered his question. Usually, you were all a very inquisitive bunch, but everyone could sense that something was significantly amiss, and that this was a time to listen, not ask. His squeaky voice and short stature should have logically done nothing to put your mind at ease a bit, but it did. The presence of an adult and a very talented wizard at that, a professor who was supposed to and did protect his students, calmed your heart down a little.

“Don’t be alarmed, but please be cautious and take what I am about to say seriously. We have reason to believe that Sirius Black entered the castle tonight. He attempted to break into Gryffindor Tower but was unsuccessful. Nobody was hurt, but he remains at large. We have Aurors and Professors alike investigating the Castle, floor by floor. We are also relocating all students to the Great Hall for the time being. Myself, and a few Aurors waiting outside, will escort you through there now. I implore you to remain calm and quiet. Please arrange yourselves with years below you at the center of the crowd and line, alright? You are safe with us, but wands out.”

You looked at Hongjoong, panic full blown on your face. You were both in Year 7, so it fell to you to take up the periphery of Ravenclaw House as you made your way to the Great Hall. He nodded at you in reassurance but kept his grip on your hand tight.

As everyone arranged themselves to make an exit from the Tower, you gave into your anxiety. “I’m really worried about the guys, Joong. What if something happened to them? What if they’re not okay?”

“Relax, Y/N. Flitwick just said that nobody was hurt. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“What if they didn’t evacuate everyone? What if they missed someone?”

“You saw the measures they’re taking. They wouldn’t have missed anyone. Don’t worry.”

You bit your lip. “What about the Slytherins? You know the undue prejudice they deal with. You know it. Just two years ago, they told them to go BACK to their House which is in the dungeons when there was a troll. A living, breathing troll! In. the. dungeons.”

Hongjoong’s features softened on his face, finally understanding where your unusual irrationality was stemming from when you were usually the calm and collected one out of the group. He squeezed your shoulder. “Seonghwa will be fine, Y/N.”

“What- why, I mean-” you spluttered. The panic was blurring your logic and your normal tendency to be secretive or aloof, especially about your feelings. How did Hongjoong know about you and Seonghwa? Or was the better question how much he knew about you and Seonghwa? You had both harbored feelings for each other for a long time but had only just confessed and become a couple. It was still so new, but the friendship wasn’t. And because you didn’t want to jeopardize your friendships with the group, you had been keeping it a secret until you both felt more comfortable to share and that you were on stable ground.

“You know he can take care of himself. He’s gonna be fine. I bet you Trelawney’s hat that he’s already in the Great Hall, practicing that little charm he invented to make his moss grow faster.”

Your breath came easier at the imagery. “You sure?”

“Positive.” He gave you another reassuring pat on the back as you both turned to face forward as Flitwick called for the Tower doors to be opened.

You took in a deep breath to prepare yourself to protect yourself, your friends, and the younger kids of your House as you stepped out into the castle. It was eerily quiet and immensely dark. The only sound that could be heard was the breathing of several dozens of students and the scuffling of shoes on stone. Even the portraits were quiet as you made your way through the castle. You held your body rigidly, looking for danger at every corner, in every sound.

When you finally reached the Great Hall, all the energy sagged out of your body, and you felt so drained that you couldn’t even carry the squashy purple sleeping bags Madame Pomfrey was handing out. Hongjoong grabbed both of yours and started to steer you further into the room. You didn’t even notice because you were counting everyone who was in the room. It made you feel safer, especially when you saw that there had to be at least three dozen Aurors guarding the students and room alone, along with most of the Professors, not to mention the rest of the upper years who also had if not a vast then adequate knowledge of magic.

“Noona!”

Your attention suddenly came back to your immediate surrounding as you were suddenly hugged. You gasped and lightly laughed at the head of red hair that was currently grabbing you.

“Hey, Wooyoung. You ok?” Your gaze landed past his shoulder you were patting to see the rest of your friends gathered, looking worried but otherwise unhurt. You barely had time to let your eyes scan over Seonghwa who was lingering at the back of the half circle you all had formed under the window. Because you couldn’t see him properly or disentangle yourself, you asked, “Everyone ok?” Yunho nodded at your question as Wooyoung not only refused to let go of you, but also dragged San and Yeosang into the hug, too. It was doing wonders for your nerves, so you couldn’t complain.

“Yeah, we’re all okay.”

“We were worried because your House took the longest to get down here. We were first obviously, but we were hoping it was just taking that long because your Tower is the farthest from here,” Mingi added.

“And not because something bad happened to you!” San wailed. His head was nestled firmly into the crook of your neck, despite being a whole head taller than you.

Hongjoong took his chance to swat him off of you. “Ya, what would happen to us? Between me and Y/N, we have at least half the library memorized and the whole curriculum down pat, especially Defense against the Dark Arts.”

Jongho clenched his fists in his hand menacingly, “Well, we could have come for you if you weren’t gonna show in the next ten minutes.”

Hongjoong cooed at him, “Really? Aw, my baby. You’re my favorite.”

Jongho started him dead in the face, “Just for noona. Not you. Have your duel with a mass murder. I think you’d do great, you know, with your Hogwarts level education. Maybe we should let the Aurors go home because Hongjoong Hyung read some books in the library!”

You laughed as everyone started bickering, feeling even more tension release from your chest at being together with everyone. As you did, you made eye contact with Seonghwa. His eyes were smoldering. He pushed off from where he was leaning against the wall behind Mingi and Yunho to come stand next to you. His eyes stayed on the squabble that was starting to brew between Hongjoong San and Jongho, as Wooyoung stirred the pot gleefully. His fingers brushed against yours. A pinky to yours.

“Are you alright?” His voice was a deep whisper, strife with the worry.

You looked down at your toes, pale blue nail polish peeking out from your bunny slippers. “Yes, are you?”

He turned to look at you. He looked at you, so earnestly it brought tears to your eyes. It stirred everything in your heart. It seemed as if he was asking questions with his eyes and trying to pick out the answers from yours. So many emotions flitted across his face that you could barely keep up. Worry, despair, fear, hurt, care, relief, affection, maybe even love. The loud sounds of the room lowered to a din as blood rushed to your head, roaring in your ears and flooding your cheeks. His hand raised, seeming to come up to almost brush against your cheek before he dropped it again as a Sonorous enhanced voice started echoing around the room. The chatter of hundreds of students immediately dropped to a hush.

Professor Dumbledore stood near the doors of the Great Hall which were now barred and warded. “Good evening to all! We find ourselves in a situation strife with high energies and excitement. Trust that you are in safe hands and that we will soon make the whole of the Castle just so, as well! I know the adrenaline must be pumping through your bodies right now at the hasty retreat and thought of a break in to the castle. You must also be wanting to check on the welfare of your friends. For that, we will allow another half hour of free time before its lights out and to bed with all of you! No need to segregate by House or gender, but please behave appropriately! The professors will be patrolling through the Hall until dawn when we will release you back to your dormitories and the Aurors will be guarding the doors from inside and out! I thank you for your cooperation! It’ll be points and detention if you fail to adhere to these rules and impede everyone’s safety in any way!”

“I wonder if the old bat even knows what the word expulsion means,” Hongjoong mused.

You turned to him, aghast. He knew better than to voice such opinions in such a public place! “Ya!”

He shrugged. “You know we’re all thinking it.”

Jongho nodded, “Yeah, if someone opened the doors to the castle tonight to let Black in, or left the room right now to go coordinate with him, they’d just get points off? Please.”

You scrunched your nose. It wasn’t the first time you had all discussed the hypocrisy, inadequacy, and flat-out discrimination that the people in authority had displayed on many occasions, but it seemed more out of place to add that kind of commentary to an already tension-fraught situation and such a long night. As if Seonghwa could read your mind, he replied, “Let’s just talk about it later, guys. Now’s hardly the time, let alone the place.”

Everyone nodded and turned to start setting up their sleeping mats. You watched them go about in a daze, still overwhelmed from all that had happened and all the many conversations flowing around you right now. You didn’t even notice that Seonghwa had left your side; you only noticed when he came back to it.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, noticing everyone else had already sat down on their mats and started playing a game of Exploding Snap. They were so engrossed in their game; they noticed nothing else.

Seonghwa leaned his head down so he could be at eye level with you. His eyebrows were raised, waiting for your answer. You smiled weakly at him. “Oh, nothing…wow, the guys set everything up so fast, I don’t even know where my sleeping bag went.” You made to push past him when he caught your arm lightly with his hand.

He indicated with his head at the end of the row where two empty sleeping bags could be seen just beyond Yeosang was sitting. “Relax, I already put yours out.”

You blushed at the thought of lying down next to him. And the fact that his hand was on you right now. You felt hot all over. Could he feel it?

“Thank you! You didn’t have to. I don’t know where my head is at, honestly.”

His hand on your forearm slipped down to hold your hand. Your heart spluttered in your chest. “It’s okay. It’s been a stressful night.” His brown eyes bore deep into yours, knowing everything that you were feeling but not saying.

You nodded, the feeling of danger and the worry for everyone’s wellbeing rushed back to you. You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. “Yea, it was really scary.”

His finger brushed at the single tear trapped in your eyelashes. “I know. But we’re here. We’re okay. You’re safe.”

Whatever little control you had been struggling to maintain over your stress was lost. Your feelings burst through, and your tears started to fall in earnest. “I was just so scared,” you blubbered. “That something had happened to you. Any of you, but, you down in the dungeons- You were so far away from me- I .. I couldn’t get to you-”

He pulled you into his arms quickly and tucked your head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to me, ok? Just for your sake. And I wouldn’t let anything happen to you either. I will always protect you. And I will always come for you. You’re safe with me, ok? Don’t be afraid anymore.”

You just nodded and cried against his chest, hoping no one would notice. “You know why Dumbledore threatened points and detention for disobedience?”

You pulled back to look him in the face, both his hands and yours coming up to wipe your tears. “No, why?”

He smirked at you. “It’s because I already tried breaking the rules tonight.”

You gasped in horror. “What did you do?”

He shrugged, smirk still on his lips. “I said I would come for you, didn’t I? I wasn’t lying. I did actually try to come to you. Twice. The first time I just snuck away from the common room right before we were to be escorted out by Snape. I tried to run up to the Tower, but an Auror caught me and took me back to Slytherin before I barely made it 20 yards. Then, I went back to my room to grab my broom and fly to you, but that damn Mrs. Norris blocked me when I tried to escape and started mewing up a racket. So, Snape just kept me at his flank and forced me here.” He smiled at you sheepishly now. “Sorry.”

You stared at him in shock. How could he say sorry? “Don’t you ever ever put yourself in danger for me, Hwa. Please. I mean it.”

His eyes hardened, but his tone was still soft. “Don’t ask that of me, Y/N.” He put his forehead against yours, his arms tightening around your waist. “Please don’t ask me for promises I can’t keep. I will never let harm come to you if I can prevent it. I will never stand by and let you be in danger if I could take you out of it. I will always come for you,” he whispered.

You sighed, sinking further into his embrace. You really couldn’t sway him when he set his mind or heart on something, and honestly, you felt the same. It would be hypocritical of you to ask him for this. “Ok, ok. But, please don’t let me worry then. Promise me you will always be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt either.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you want.”

“Ya, you two are really pushing old Dumbley’s rule on appropriate behavior.”

You jumped apart to see all the guys looking at you, with expressions varying from deadpan (Hongjoong and Yeosang) to too smiley (Jongho, Yunho, and Mingi) to borderline maniacal smiley (San and Wooyoung).

“You better knock it off before we all in trouble, hyung. Or worse- separated!” Mingi turned in horror to Yunho, as if they weren’t both in Hufflepuff and roommates for the past six years.

“NO! I wanna sleep with Hongjoong Hyung. We haven’t had a sleepover in ages.” San pouted.

“And why do you think that is?”

“Don’t punish me for Wooyoungie’s behavior!”

“Hey, you know you love it.” Wooyoung proceeded to drape himself all over the Ravenclaw, and you started laughing as yet another squabble broke out as he attempted to push the Gryffindor off. How WooSan still had energy in the middle of the night to harass Joong, you would never know. You turned to Seonghwa, the laughter still on your lips, to see him looking at you with a more open expression than he had all night.

“There’s that smile.” His thumb was at the corner of your lip. “I was worried when I didn’t see it.”

You smiled at him even more fully. If he had the presence of mind to flirt with you right now, then surely you weren’t in that much danger. And even if you were, he was here to storm it together with you. You let out a big breath as the last of the tension left your body. “I’m sorry,” you intertwined your fingers with his and he pulled you to where your sleeping mats were. “Won’t happen again.”

And it wouldn’t. You had faced real danger tonight. For the first time, but perhaps not for the last. You knew there were Dark Wizards and that the world was a cruel place, but you would never let your fear paralyze you again. You had strong people at your side to carry you through it, like Honjoong and Seonghwa had tonight, and you could draw strength from theirs, just like you were doing right now from their company and comfort and overzealous hugs.

Seonghwa smiled at you. You felt like he could read your mind, but in reality, he just saw the look of fear melt off your face to be replaced with one of confidence and determination. He couldn’t help himself; he leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. You kissed him back in earnest, the relief surging through your body almost making you euphoric. Everyone you loved was safe, and there were people you could count on in times of danger. As Seonghwa’s hand twisted in your hair, obnoxious coughing and whistles broke your reverie. You broke apart in surprise to turn to the guys.

Nobody looked particularly surprised, but they had just seen two of their best friends almost make out in front of them for the first time. They deserved an explanation, or an announcement at least. Seonghwa squeezed his hand in yours, and even though you had no idea what to say, you opened your mouth to start somewhere, when Wooyoung interrupted you.

“Save it; we already know.”

You shut your mouth again and looked at them all, head cocked to the side in confusion. “You.. already know?”

At this, San laughed. “Please, do you think we’re stupid?”

Seonghwa sighed, mockingly, “Well-”

“Hey!” “Please! You two have been so obviously in love with each other for years, it was sickening,” Mingi said.

“I thought it was sweet!” Yeosang was your favorite, and here was the reason.

“You know what’s not sweet? Having to hear both of your best friends pining over each other nonstop. For years. I haven’t caught a break since basically the day we were sorted!”

You blushed and peeked a glance at Seonghwa who you were surprised to see was acting shy and raising his fist towards Hongjoong in tiny. You two hadn’t had that conversation yet where you shared when you had started liking the other, partly because you were embarrassed to share the true longevity of your crush. You could barely believe Hwa liked you back- you couldn’t even imagine that he had liked you as long as you had liked him! It warmed your heart though that it had been the same for the both of you.

“No, but seriously,” Jongho piped up, eyes not straying from the game he was still playing with Yunho. “You guys are so obvious. We were just waiting for it to happen.”

“Yeah, we had a bet going and everything,” Yunho added.

“Oh, speaking of, can you tell us your first official day as a couple? I’ve got 10 Galleons riding on this,” Yeosang said.

“You what?”

“Wow, only 10?”

You and Seonghwa turned to each other, mock outraged over two totally separate things. You pursed your lips at him, and he raised his brow before you both burst into laughter. You two had been worrying about how to break the news for seemingly nothing. It wasn’t awkward and the dynamic hadn’t changed one bit with everyone knowing.

You both seeed to have the same realization at the same time. The contentment in his eyes mirrored your own. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and you leaned into him, more at peace than you had felt in a long time. It was ironic because there was a literal mass murderer likely still on the loose in the very building you and all your loved ones were in, but you felt more secure in yourself and your relationships than you ever had.

It was at that moment that the lights went out and the professors started herding people to their makeshift beds. You joined everyone else and laid yourself down into your sleeping bag. You were so exhausted that you didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at the heat of Seonghwa’s body laying right next to you. His hand found yours, and you smiled, staring at the stars of the Scottish Highlands reflected in the ceiling of the Great Hall above you.

Hongjoong was already face down in his bed on your other side. You were just about to lose the fight with sleep when he whispered your name.

You opened your eyes and turned to him. “What?”

He smiled lightly at you. “I just wanted to say I’m really happy for you. For both of you. Congrats.”

You pressed your lips together and pouted at him. “Thanks Joongie.”

He smiled back and shifted to his side before adding in a louder whisper that could carry across to both of you. “And you better not hurt each other. I expect you to take care of each other and be in love and happy together forever, ok?”

Seonghwa chuckled lightly, “Yes, Dad.”

“Ok, ok. That’s all I had to say,” the rest of the guys were giggling when he added in a harsher tone, “Goodnight, everyone!”

All the boys sleepily wished the same. Ten minutes later when everyone’s breaths had evened out in slumber, your thoughts were still rattling around in your head. Joong thought you would last forever, and your boyfriend hadn’t refuted it or been embarrassed. Did he feel as deeply for you as you did him? Not to mention the thought of Hwa’s husky chuckle was still sending shivers down your spine, before they transformed into lightning bolts as he suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest.

Your heartbeat spluttered before you could ask him in a choked whisper, “Ya, what are you doing?”

His eyes stayed closed, and he replied calmly. “Getting some sleep. You should, too.”

You could feel the blush emanating from your face and warming the scant space between you. You stared at the line of this throat, inches from your nose, wondering if you should be embarrassed or give into the comfort of his arms. Even though you two had never done anything like this, you couldn’t deny that it felt so right. It felt like home. Your brain wanted to react uncomfortably just because it was something new, but your heart was already calm, and the rest of your body was following as you melted into his heavenly embrace.

His arm at your back rubbed up and down twice before stilling around your waist as his other hand came to cradle your head. “There, just relax, my love. I’m right here, and you’re safe with me.”

You hummed blissfully against his heart. “Thanks, you too, Hwa.” Your words came out jumbled as sleep finally crashed over you.

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

A press of his lips at your hairline was the last thing you remembered from one of the most significant nights of your life.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you #efsywriting

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patolemus · 6 months

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As I promised the lovely @lucy-andreas here’s a list of my favorite jegulus fics. Be warned, it’s a weird mix all around:

1. One Thousand Wildflower Fields by ThisLiminalSpace

James is a good citizen. He pays his taxes, waves at his neighbours, remembers his mother’s birthday, works on things and stuff on the Internet like any other human in this day and age, and certainly has never been involved in anything illegal.

Well.

There is a first time for everything.

Notes: no-magic, abo au where omegas weren’t allowed out of the house until recently. Regulus deals with his new found freedom by fighting in illegal rings. James deals… not. Completed.

2. Of Pinstripes And Potions by pansysnarkinson

When James wakes up, his head is pounding. He can’t remember drinking anything, but supposes he must have because it feels like he’s been hit square between the eyes with a bludger. He’s never been one to get hungover, but he knows this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Although, come to think of it, he doesn’t remember celebrating their victory on the pitch, isn’t completely sure they had one at all. The last thing he remembers is turning to look to the stands, revelling in the roars of his fellow Gryffindors, certain that they were going to beat Hufflepuff. Then, he turned and… was hit square between the eyes with a bludger.

Now he’s stuck in the hospital wing, and the bed next to his is occupied by none other than Regulus Black.

Notes: not much to say about this one. Very light as far as jegulus in Hogwarts goes. Completed.

3. James Potter's Application to Court Regulus Black by MiriamMT

“Hello and welcome, my name is James Potter and this is my presentation on ‘Why I should be allowed to date Regulus Black’.”

* * *

When James asks for Sirius' blessing for his and Regulus' relationship, Sirius insists on a formal application and a presentation on why he deserves to be with his little brother.

Notes: hilarious and very fluffy. It’s a one shot and there isn’t much going on in the background. Completed.

4. the golden king by maladaptivewriting

When Regulus Black woke up in 1991 after he was supposed to die twelve years prior, he realized two things. One, the locket he had worked so hard to steal had never been destroyed so the Dark Lord was still alive. And two, Harry Potter, James Potter's son, was in danger.

Regulus goes to school with the Golden Trio.

Notes: one of my favorite Regulus-survives-the-cave fics. Also one of my favorite jegulus fics in general. Follows the golden trio + de-aged Regulus as they go to Hogwarts, and how Regulus’ influence changes things. James may or may not be dead, though he is definitely present. It’s complicated. Ongoing, but has steady updates.

5. All you need is love by touchlikethesun

James Potter is so helplessly in love with Regulus Black. And miraculously Regulus loves him back. And in the end, isn't that all that matters?

Notes: morally gray James. It explains most of what happens here. It gets pretty dark at some point, but I personally love me a Death Eather!James Potter when done right. And this one is definitely done right. Hopeful Ending? Ambiguous Ending? Something like that. Surprisingly, the only steady relationship is jegulus. Everything else is a mess, as Marauders tend to be. Completed.

6. my almost lover by alarainai and salmon_says

“If I was dating Regulus, I would have noticed.”

A pause. His friends all stare at him with various levels of disbelief. Suddenly, he feels very stupid.

“Are you sure?” Remus asks.

Regulus and James are a couple. James is the last person to realise this.

Notes: fluffy and funny. Very light, almost no angst considering the canon material we have to work with. James is a very lovable idiot as per usual. Completed.

7. quite like us by alarainai and salmon_says

[18:12] Seriously, wrong number. Don’t send shirtless pictures to strangers.

[18:13] Padfoot, this rejection hurts.

[18:16] What’s a Padfoot?

[18:17] Wait, is this actually not Padfoot?

[18:19] I don’t even know what that is, but no. I’m not a Padfoot.

Notes: modern au with a wrong number situation. Strangers to lovers, very cute all around with a healthy doze of panic and angst (but nothing too terrible). Completed.

8. Only the Brave by Solmussa

Regulus Black is angry. He wants revenge. He wants to watch the world burn for all it's done to him. He also wants to make out with James Potter, but that's a secret he'll take to the grave. Vengeance is more important than... whatever it is that chokes him when he lays eyes on Potter.

James Potter is confused, because Regulus Black is, all of a sudden, hot. And it's unfair because Sirius is going to kill him if he doesn't get his impulse control in line.

A fic about two idiots falling in love (x2 because there's wolfstar, too) during a war, and the sacrifices they'll have to make to survive it.

Notes: one of the best jegulus fics I’ve read in my life. Gut wrenching, soul shattering angst. It’ll make you cry at five in the morning while contemplating your decisions and at four in the afternoon, also contemplating your decisions. The fluff will kill you, as will the hurt/comfort and the happy ending. Everything in this fic is designed to hurt, but you’ll thank the author because it’s all worth it in the end. A monster with more than 600k worth of words so thread with caution if you’re thinking of starting this at night like I did. Other than that, put on your seatbelt because you’re in for a ride. Completed.

9. Mastermind (Love Made Me Crazy) by MiriamMT

Regulus is consumed by bitterness and pain after his brother Sirius ran away from home, and he blames James Potter for taking him away.

Seeking revenge, he plots to take James away from Sirius. But what starts as a means of vengeance quickly turns into a tumultuous affair, and Regulus finds himself falling in love. Passion and desire turn into feelings and the wish to do and be better for James.

But, as he navigates his complex feelings for James, a dark wizard rises to power, seeking to gain followers among the Hogwarts students. Trapped between duty and love, Regulus is forced to confront his fears, as he tries to protect those he cares about.

Notes: the only reason this didn’t break me the same way Only the Brave did is because it’s half its size. Which is still an impressive 300k worth of words, but you don’t spend wallowing in despair as long. I can promise a happy ending but at what cost? Completed.

10. i regret you all the time by inevitablestars

What happens when James falls for Regulus and his friends lose their trust in him?

Notes: deceptively short summary. I still haven’t finished this one out of sheer fear of how much it’ll break me. I never do MCD or canon compliant fics when it comes to jegulus but the Death Eather!James Potter tag seduced me. I regret it all the time (pun intended) but at the same time I don’t. Can’t say how it ends because I still haven’t gotten the courage to read the last chapter but… thread with caution and keep a pair of tissues near you. Completed.

11. glimpses of heaven by lunahunt

In the aftermath of the prank, James Potter is at an all time low. He can barely look at Sirius, Remus’s dad is keeping him locked up all summer, and Lily Evans hates him even more than usual.

In an effort to get James out of the house, Euphemia signs her son up for a summer Quidditch program with the famous Josef Wronski—seeker for the Grodzisk Goblins and inventor of the Wronski Feint.

The last person James expects to see there is Regulus Black.

[slow ish burn jegulus fic beginning the summer after the marauders fifth year and continuing through the rest of their years at hogwarts] [not canon compliant (aka everyone won’t die)]

Notes: one of the best James characterizations I’ve ever read. The author makes him so inherently flawed and human and it’s wonderful. Post Prank Angst, of course. My only regret reading this is that it’s incomplete, though I still harbor hope that the author will update again.

12. Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars

Regulus Black was fifteen the first time his name was called at a reaping. He's twenty-five when it happens to him again. A lot has changed in that time, and one of them is that he's ready to do whatever it takes to make it home. Nothing or no one will stop him, not even James Potter.

James Potter has no plans to stop Regulus Black from making it home. In fact, his plans revolve around the opposite. He has his reasons, but he's made his choice to get Regulus out of the arena, even knowing it'll be the last thing he ever does.

Sirius Black was sixteen when he volunteered to take his little brother's place in the arena. At twenty-six, without the option to do it again, he has no choice but to be a mentor to his brother and best friend, knowing that only one of them can make it back out.

Two names called, a mentor on the verge of falling apart, and more secrets and grief between all of them than they know how to handle. None of them are prepared for what comes next, or how far they'll go to make it through.

Notes: is it really a jegulus fic rec list if I don’t recommend CR, aka the best jegulus fic of all times? No it’s not, so here it is, the best jegulus fic I’ve read. The Hunger Games au, with aged-up characters. Promises a happy ending but at what cost? Prepare to bawl, scream, look blankly at your wall, laugh and fall in love with this pair of idiots as they fight for their lives. Surprisingly, not everyone dies, and there is a happy ending. There’s pretty graphic depictions of violence though, so thread carefully. It’s a 865k words monster fic (longer than the Bible!) but it really doesn’t feel that long when you’re desperate to see what happens next. I don’t recommend reading this if you’re planning on stopping for long periods of time, though be ready to feel emotionally drained afterwards because this one is the definition of a rollercoaster. You have to have an account to see this work. Completed.

13. just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by bizarrestars

Regulus closes his eyes and shakes his head again, looking pained, then he opens them and sighs. "And your solution to this is me? Pretending to be my boyfriend?"

"Yeah. It's actually bloody brilliant, if you think about it. Everyone will leave happy. I'm going to fake date my way into falling in love," James announces grandly, sticking his hand out and waving it through the air like he's presenting a banner.

***

Or, the one in which James Potter wants to prove he'd be a good boyfriend to Lily Evans and comes up with the brilliant plan to fake date Regulus Black his way into falling in love. It doesn't quite go as anyone expects.

Task failed...successfully?

Notes: no Voldemort au, fake dating trope, angst with a happy ending. As always, Zar delivers complete masterpieces. Also one of my favorite jegulus fics of all times. The angst, thankfully, is not of the life or death variety, which is refreshing in this fandom. You’ll suffer, but you’ll be happy about it. You have to have an account to see this work. Completed.

14. By Your Heart's Calm Strength by pansysnarkinson

Nobody knows who started the fire at Grimmauld Place.

Some people swear it was Sirius, hell-bent on taking revenge on an unloving family.

Others swear it was Regulus, gone mad like other Blacks before him.

The only thing James Potter knows is that the mystery is occupying far more of his mind than is healthy.

Notes: I read this a long time ago but I remember being bamboozled when I did. James slowly discovers the truth of what happened at Grimmauld Place, and falls in love with Regulus along the way. Fluff and angst, of course. Completed.

15. Carpe Noctem by evareinadeescocia

Golden boy,

Lion boy;

Tell me what it’s like to conquer.

Fearless child,

Broken boy;

Tell me what it’s like to burn.

(...)

In which a very nosy James Potter notices that every weekend, when everyone falls asleep, Regulus Black sneaks into an abandoned fifth-floor classroom, and he can't help but try to find out what the little Black is up to.

Notes: another one of my all time favorites. Enemies to lovers, secret relationship, standard jegulus fic. This one has Seer!Regulus, which is both very important and at the same time not relevant at all. Non canon compliant and a promised happy ending which is the only reason I read it because at the time it looked too similar to Choices and I don’t touch canon compliant fics with a ten feet pole. A 680k word monster, it’s currently on hiatus but I strongly believe the author will come back to finish it. Every time I think about it I consider giving it a reread.

16. Finders Keepers by jeggie_toast

"Bloody hell," he murmured. "I really fancy you, Reggie."

It sounded like music, coming from James' lips; a piece that Regulus would like to listen to for the rest of his life.

"...I fancy you, too."

A slow-burn, canon-compliant fic documenting the relationship between James Potter and Regulus Black - from the first time they officially meet, throughout the development of their friendship and eventual romance, right to the moment it all ends. Lots of fluff, no smut :)

*FOR THOSE WHOSE HEARTS CAN'T TAKE CANON-COMPLIANCY* - Stop reading at Chapter 99, then go read my Happy Ending Au: He Is!

Notes: to be completely honest, I did not read the last chapters and skipped to the Happy Ending Au so I have no idea how it ends in canon compliant. I can take a guess though. As usual with jegulus fics, you’ll suffer but you’ll be happy about it. The Happy Ending Au is pretty great. Completed.

17. blue and yellow skies by alarainai and salmon_says

#starchaser is trending.

Regulus Black ✓ @littleking

Why is this a thing? I don't even like Potter.

James Potter ✓ @jfprongs

Replying to @littleking

He's lying. We're desperately in love.

Regulus Black ✓ @littleking

Replying to @jfprongs

die :)

Quidditch Rivals turned Quidditch Lovers. That's what the world sees them as, at least.

Too bad Regulus hates James Potter's guts, and James? Well, it doesn't matter what he feels about their definitely fake, definitely emotionless relationship.

Notes: no Voldemort, modern technology meets magic, professional Quidditch au. Enemies to lovers (though are they enemies if they were in love with each other already?), fake dating trope. Fluff with the appropriate angst dosis, amazing happy ending. Completed.

I know there’s many other fics that are considered must reads for the fandom, but they’re either canon compliant or have MCD, so I haven’t read them, nor will I ever read them. I’ll still leave the links in case someone is interested, but I won’t give any descriptions.

1. Choices by MesserMoon (Canon-Compliant).

2. Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs (Tagged MCD, the only one of these I may read if I ever find the courage).

3. The Heart of a Lion by orphan_account (Canon-Compliant and Tagged MCD).

Other must reads I have not read yet, so I won’t be giving any descriptions. I’ll still leave the links though.

1. Falls by vantelk

2. pink lemonade by moonysbookshelf

3. Best Friend's Brother by bizarrestarts (needs an account to read)

4. when you were mine by sequinhaze (needs an account to read)

5. The Blood In Your Mouth by moonysmirrorball

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #regulus black x james potter #starchaser #fic recs #fic rec #marauders era #marauders fic #ao3 #fanfiction

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cheshiresense · 1 year

Text

Anon:

Fandom: Harry Potter (CLV kinda?)

Character or Ship: Hadrian from CLV, I love Hadrian/Orion but that might not work here so it's totally up to you!

AU/Trope: I'd love to see an AU where instead of the CLV dimension, Hadrian is sent to a universe still with BWL!Neville but more similar to canon. Maybe with Slytherin!Hadrian and Hadrian taking some of the other Slytherins under his wing? I just really like the idea of a world where the "good guys" win and instead of (or in addition to) Orion it's the Slytherins who need Hadrian in their corner. Doesn't have to be all of them, whoever you prefer writing is fine. I am also down for bashing if you need to work that in. Thank you!

Tags: CLV AU, Slytherin!Hadrian, Canonical Prejudices, Draco Malfoy Bashing, kind of?, tbh this is more or less how I see him in canon lol but I know he's a fan favourite so fair warning, he's not the CLV version here, at least not yet.

-0-

Author's Notes: Hello, it's been a while since I've worked on these. I think I mentioned before that my tumblr inbox got glitchy so I actually couldn't find the other 6 requests from the last batch of 10 you guys sent in for 5+ Headcanons. So I set up an airtable form instead and got someone to test it, and this was the one they sent. It works, so in the future, I'll toss out a new post with the form link for more requests, and maybe I'll get through them in a timely manner lol.

If you're not in the UraIchi server, then you might've noticed that I've sort of been MIA on the writing front for a while now, the last time I wrote and posted something was like back in May last year, and honestly I've been kind of tired and burnt out ever since, and real life is kicking my ass a bit, so when I do have spare time, all I feel like doing is reading fics or webnovels and sleeping. But the winter hols were a nice break for me, and I've started on a couple new fic ideas and added to some wips on and off over the past few months, so I'm slowly getting back into it, and this 5+ Headcanons prompt was one of the things I've been working on. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back into posting fics soon.

ANYWAY, on to the stuff you actually care about: Slytherin!Hadrian, so basically amp up the hardened war vet and dial down the friendship magic XD Way back when I first started CLV, I did consider Slytherin for his House but it felt like everybody did that, plus the politics I would have to get into gave me a headache and I felt like I couldn't do it justice anyway, so I went with Hufflepuff. Slytherin does give me more options to play with a powerful Hadrian who has less morals about flinging that around to get what he wants though since he would be viewed as a halfblood at best and he'd need that currency to make sure nobody messes with him, especially if this universe is more canon than CLV (lbr, almost everybody is at least 50% nicer in CLV lol). So okay, let's give this a spin.

(AO3 Link Here -- I’ll add this to the collection fic on my AO3 to make it a round 15 but this one will be the last for that. If I do more, I’ll start a new fic.)

-0-0-0-

Hadrian ends up being a Hatstall. He sits on the stool for a full seven minutes as the Sorting Hat sifts through his bloodstained memories with a silence so grim Hadrian is tempted to comfort it. Then it proceeds to send back memories of its own, the major points of recent Hogwarts history that would best help Hadrian fit in - Neville, the Boy-Who-Lived; an image of Hadrian's counterpart and an entire family still alive; Quirrell vanquished in first year, a basilisk slain and a diary that bled itself to death in the second, Remus teaching in the third but no Pettigrew in sight; Neville at odds with Potter, Gryffindors at odds with Slytherins, and Death Eater children who hadn't managed to come out of the last war as financially and politically secure as families like the Malfoys, subtly shunned for their parents' sins, while children from the Light side, the winning side, with parents who'd openly defied Voldemort, can do almost no wrong. On the surface, everything looks bright and happy. Beneath it, malcontent and despair bubbles and brews with hardly anyone the wiser, and those who are, are glad to look away.

The Sorting Hat offers no opinions of its own after it is done, only continuing on to extol the virtues of all four Houses while making an argument for why Hadrian would be perfectly suited for each of them in equal measure, before finally leaving the decision in Hadrian's hands.

"Even I cannot be certain where you would do the most good," the Sorting Hat tells him. "Nor do I know which House would do you the most good. There are many children in this school who could use a helping hand such as yours, and likewise, you too would benefit from the same. Who am I to decide which is more important? Perhaps it is most accurate to say that no matter where you end up, who you will help, and who you will allow to help you, a new future will unfold, one made possible only by your existence. Yours is a fate that demands change, Mr. Evans, for better or for worse. But when peril looms on the distant horizon, when our society insists on blind stagnancy, and its people have long stood divided, change is exactly what this world needs. Thus, I leave the choice to you. Where do you wish to go?"

Hadrian says nothing - thinks nothing - for a long deafening minute. The mounting whispers in the Great Hall are easy enough to tune out, and within the confines of his mind, the Hat too remains patiently silent.

The truth of it is - Hadrian is tired. Even now, in this moment, in this place, one year and an entire dimension and seven years away, he still feels like he does on most days— as if he's just walked off a battlefield at the end of one of those kinds of days that can break a man even when you think there's nothing left to break, yet still hyper-alert for the next enemy, the next fight, the next death, because he doesn't know how to do anything else, how to be anything else. On all the rest, of course, it feels as if he never left the battlefield at all.

He is tired, and he honestly doesn't feel like he's capable of helping anyone, not children, not the reflections of his loved ones, and certainly not an entire world that's rapidly revealing itself to be as stuck on a one-way train to hell as his original world had been.

He doesn't want to be a hero, doesn't know how to be one even after all these years, even when other people had always so desperately wanted him to be. A hero, until he'd proven unable to meet their expectations, and then he'd been their villain, right up until they'd needed a hero to stand in front of them again, and round and round and round they'd gone.

The only thing he could never be was just Harry, just himself, and now even Harry Potter is no longer his to claim.

But maybe that's not so bad, not when Harry Potter has always been more story than reality, a patchwork fairytale portrait of a boy, a man, a weapon, a sacrifice, stitched together by every hand except his own.

Maybe Hadrian Evans could be something different.

Gryffindor feels too much like repeating history, and Hadrian would rather not be forced to stare at the majority of those long dead to him day in and day out. Hufflepuff is too prone to crowding together for his liking, persistently eager to be friends with their own members even if they're quick to turn on those who aren't, and Hadrian doesn't think he can bear the overenthusiastic socializing that would require.

Ravenclaw might be best, a House where even the most introverted can find a home if they have a thirst for knowledge, but at the same time, for a lot of them, once they latch on to a question unanswered or an opinion that doesn't fit their worldview, they won't let go until the question is exhausted or the opinion has conformed to what they consider acceptable, and Hadrian has too many secrets and no more patience to be what others what him to be to fit in with those sorts of people anymore. Besides, he's never quite forgiven that House as a whole. Marietta Edgecombe had been Ravenclaw. Quirrell and Lockhart and Trelawney had been Ravenclaws. Every single one of Luna's bullies had been Ravenclaws. He'd worked with members of that House over the years, taught them back when the DA had been up and running, and even been friendly with some of them beyond just Luna, but generally speaking, he has no positive emotions regarding Ravenclaw. He knows that he isn't being entirely fair, because Voldemort had been from Slytherin, and Pettigrew had been from Gryffindor, and the worst of the lot who'd spearheaded the damaging gossip and baseless accusations incriminating him - first for the Heir of Slytherin debacle in second year, and then the Cup nonsense in fourth year - had all been from Hufflepuff, but still, Ravenclaw simply stands out as that one House that holds no appeal for him.

That really only leaves one place he can go though, and Hadrian finds that he minds that a lot less than he once would've. Slytherin will have its own problems, him being a halfblood at best with a very obvious muggle surname, but Slytherins also respect power, and most of them have the sense to back off if they realize they're picking a fight with an opponent they can't beat. And once that's dealt with, Hadrian will most likely be avoided and left to his own devices, with only the occasional curse to his back to worry about. From a bunch of schoolchildren, that's a negligible issue.

In his head, the Sorting Hat chuckles. "Very well then. If you're sure, better be-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

But Mr. Evans," the Sorting Hat says in the seconds before it's removed from Hadrian's head. It sounds thoroughly amused. "Do not be so quick to underestimate your own heart."

And with that last ominous statement imparted to haunt him, Hadrian stands to lacklustre applause and makes his way to his new House as his tie settles into green and silver stripes.

The briefest of glances over the stretch of the Slytherin table tells him that none of the students seated where most of the fourth-years are gathered have moved to make room for him. That's fine. Hadrian would rather not be boxed in anyway. He takes a seat at the end of the table, smiles at the suspicious first-years around him, and then waits for Dumbledore's opening speech to finish so they can start the feast.

Fifteen minutes later, one treacle tart and a glass of pumpkin juice is all he can manage. He sips at some water for the rest of dinner even as he wishes it was something a lot more alcoholic. He speaks to no one, and no one tries to speak to him, although plenty of prying eyes and sneers of disdain find their way to him throughout the meal.

It makes him feel, Hadrian thinks with some humour, almost nostalgic.

Near the end of the evening, he thinks about going over to the Gryffindor table to find Neville, Ron, and Hermione. But he's in Slytherin now, so he doesn't know how they'll react, and after another moment of contemplation, he decides against it. Not much can embarrass him anymore, but he'd still rather not be put on the spot if the Golden Trio rejects his overture of friendship. It won't help his reputation in Slytherin either if he ends up making a spectacle of himself like that. There's plenty of time tomorrow to see how they'll feel about maintaining ties with a Slytherin without too big of an audience watching, and if they're against it, then, well, it's not as if Hadrian hasn't been living as a recluse over the better part of the past year anyway. He sees no problem carrying on exactly as he has.

Fate sent him here against his explicit permission but she sure as shit can't make him dance.

-0-0-0-

Hadrian ends up shuffled into a dorm room with five very familiar Slytherins - Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. He gets the remaining bed that's presumably been empty since the others' first year, and a very pointed silence coalesces at his back as he starts unpacking his clothes into his wardrobe.

He ignores it. Instead, he absently begins a count of how long it will take for someone - he's betting Draco - to put their foot in their mouth first. He casts a glance at the floor-to-ceiling window next to his nightstand; like the Gryffindor dorms, the room is circular so everyone has a view to the outside, but here, instead of winds and open skies, it's lake water that shimmers against the glass, with the shadows of passing aquatic life flickering by. It's not bad, just different; the ambience of it is almost soothing.

Someone clears their throat behind him. Hadrian hangs up his winter cloak before moving on to his books. They each get a desk too, complete with a mini bookcase, which the Gryffindor dorms don't have. They have to do their homework on their beds or in the common room. How unfair. But at least Hadrian gets to benefit from it now.

Someone clears their throat again, louder this time. Hadrian smothers a twist of a smirk and bends over his trunk again to fish out his towels and toiletries. His more personal belongings can remain inside, although he'll have to ward everything to the nines anyway.

A displeased noise that comes out gilded with that distinctly familiar Dudley-esque whine of a child who's been spoiled since birth and has never known hardship reaches his ears, and then finally-

"Are you deaf, Evans?!" Draco demands, and oh, look at that, Hadrian wins the bet.

He straightens and turns, idly fiddling with a packet of quills as his gaze falls on the blond standing puffed up and bristling by the bed opposite Hadrian's on the other side of the dorm. He looks him over, looks at Crabbe and Goyle bracketing him with twin expressions of oafish scorn, looks at Zabini standing a ways away, watching the whole room with a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes, looks at Nott who doesn't look at anyone at all.

His attention returns to Draco, considering him for a moment longer before asking mildly, "Did you say something?"

Draco's cheeks flush pink even as he draws himself up and snaps, "You should at least have enough manners to introduce yourself!" His face narrows into a sneer, and Hadrian can almost predict his next words. "But I suppose even that might be too difficult for a mudblood to learn."

For a second, Hadrian wonders if he should tell him he's a halfblood. Then again, it doesn't really matter, and also some people consider halfbloods to be mudbloods too. And now that he thinks about it, the person he is in this world might actually be a muggleborn. But he was homeschooled so at least one of his fictional parents had to have known magic, right? Then again, they could've just been related to a witch or wizard but were muggles themselves. Who knows. Certainly not him since Fate couldn't be bothered to inform him.

"Evans, are you listening to me?!"

Hadrian blinks out of his thoughts. "Yes, I'm listening, what is it?"

Draco glares. His features are so… pointy at this age that the expression doesn't really carry the impact he's probably going for, but Hadrian figures it would be unnecessarily mean to mention it, so he doesn't. Instead, he quickly reviews everything Draco has said, and there wasn't actually a question anywhere in there, as far as Hadrian can tell, but maybe Draco really does want an introduction. Seems like a waste of breath though.

"Is there a point to introducing myself?" He asks. "Everybody heard my name at the Sorting. You even just used it so it's not like you don't know."

Draco splutters as if that wasn't what he expected Hadrian to say. He recovers after a moment and opts to glower harder instead, as if that would hide the way the pink in his cheeks is slowly turning red. Poor bastard. That's what you get when you have a pale complexion and fluster easily.

"Are you actually a mudblood then?" He demands contemptuously.

Hadrian honestly doesn't know, but he can't say that, so he volleys back, "Does Slytherin accept muggleborns?"

He knows they take halfbloods, but he can't remember any muggleborns in Slytherin, although if there are any, he doubts they would be willing to broadcast it, even if it means inventing a magical parent in their family tree.

"Of course not!" Draco refutes, sounding scandalized.

Hadrian can't tell if that's actually true, or if that's just Draco's own belief, but it does make things easier. "Then…" He shrugs. "If you already know, why are you asking?"

A beat of silence passes, then two. The red deepens in Draco's face as he hisses dramatically, "Are you mocking me?"

Hadrian suppresses a sigh. He probably is being too flippant for someone as high-strung as Draco, but it's still a far sight from mockery. He can definitely do better if he wants to taunt someone. Had his world's Draco been this easily riled up? They hadn't even really gotten into any exchange of insults yet. "I wouldn't say I'm-"

He stops.

Across the room, Draco has pulled out his wand, and when he realizes that Hadrian's broken off mid-sentence, the flush recedes from his face, and a triumphant smirk instantly takes its place instead.

"Since you've been sorted into Slytherin," Draco announces, raising his wand with a ridiculously showy flourish that makes Hadrian twitch with the desire to correct his posture. "You should know your place. Mouthing off to your betters is a good way to get cursed around here, especially when you're in the presence of someone like me." He sneers down his nose even as his chin tips up, all peacock proud. "My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Even the likes of your kind should've heard of my family." He looks smug, as if a mere surname can protect him from anything when it comes down to it. "You'll be staying here for the next four years, Evans, and I guarantee you'll have a miserable time of it if you get on my bad side. But today's your first day at Hogwarts, so I can be generous. If you apologize, I'll let you go just this once."

An expectant hush falls as Draco finishes his little speech. Hadrian doesn't say anything right away, still turning over the packet of quills in his hands, still waiting. When nothing happens after a good five seconds tick by, and the silence gradually becomes strained, Hadrian finally nods at Draco's wand, "So are you going to use that or not?"

The stunned look of outrage on Draco's face is gold.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Evans!" Draco snarls, jabbing out with his wand. "Oscausi!"

Hadrian has time to arch an eyebrow at the choice of a pseudo-silencing charm before he's flipping a quill into the fingers of his left hand. A swipe of his thumb leaves a chain of runes glittering along its shaft, and then he brings it up, catches the oncoming spell with the tip, and swats it aside with a flick of his wrist, all in one fluid motion. His right hand doesn't stay still either as his wand slides neatly into his palm, and a single wordless modified Expelliarmus darts out and attaches itself to Draco's wand.

The white light of the Mouth-Sealing Charm is sent soaring across the room, shattering against the door in a shower of harmless sparks, and in the heavy silence that follows, Hadrian smiles.

He thinks it's a very bland smile, if he does say so himself. At the very least, he's careful to not look too intimidating or too unhinged, the way he can sometimes get, if some of his dead friends were to be believed, back during the war. Nevertheless, it still makes Draco blanch white, makes Crabbe and Goyle shrink back, makes Zabini lean further back into a convenient shadow and Nott go utterly still from where he's sitting on his bed.

Hadrian glances down at the remains of his writing utensil, most of the barbs now burnt black. It was a regular quill after all, not exactly made to withstand so much magic. He looks back up, at Draco who has a white-knuckled grip on his wand, and with his own wand, he gives the other's a tug, just enough to make Draco's eyes go wide with something like panic, but not enough to actually disarm him and - considering the sheer amount of honed intent in the charm that even Draco can undoubtedly sense - most likely bend the wand's allegiance.

Hadrian holds it for a moment longer, and then lets go. Draco staggers back a step, jerking his wand down and reflexively pressing it into his chest as if he's trying to protect it, or maybe assure himself that it still belongs to him.

Hadrian tucks his wand back up his sleeve before stooping down to pick up the rest of the quills he'd dropped. The burnt one goes in the bin by his desk.

Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves. So Hadrian does.

"That took you almost five seconds," He begins almost conversationally as he opens a drawer to stash his remaining quills away. "From when you decided to fire that spell to actually firing it. And that's not even counting all the time you wasted saying the stuff before that, after you already took out your wand. It's stupid. When you draw with the intent to harm, you shouldn't give any warning at all. And the spell itself was slow. You should work on that."

He pauses, and there's still no response, which he supposes makes sense. He doubts anybody here wants to listen to him preach. He should just wrap things up since the plan is moving along so neatly.

"Anyway, this is pretty unfortunate," He switches gears and smiles again, as fit-for-public-polite as he knows how to be. It doesn't seem to make anyone feel better, but he also doesn't feel like he was that heavy-handed earlier, was he? Ah well, can't change anything now, and it's still in line with what he wants so it doesn't matter.

"I wasn't really expecting to make any friends since I know the average Slytherin's views on blood isn't exactly in my favour," He continues in light tones. "But I was hoping that we could at least remain on civil terms and get along as schoolmates, if only because we'll be living together for the rest of our time at Hogwarts. Since that doesn't seem to be possible anymore though, how about we just go with the simplest solution?"

Hadrian surveys the room and smiles some more. "You ignore me and I’ll ignore you. You attack me and I'll retaliate. An eye for an eye, so to speak. Everybody just needs to mind their own business, and there won't be any problems. That's fair enough, don't you think?"

His gaze settles once more on Draco. "Since you're the only one who's said anything so far, I'll assume you speak for everyone in this dorm. Draco Malfoy, right? So then, do we understand each other now?"

Across from him, Draco shivers imperceptibly like a rabbit caught at the wrong end of a predator's line of sight, but he also swallows and nods and gingerly puts his wand away. It looks like it costs him, but - at least for now - he seems both too shocked and too afraid to try anything else.

"Great!" Hadrian says cheerfully before cocking his head as a thought occurs to him. "Oh, right, one more thing."

He lets his smile fall away. Lets his expression smooth over into marble. And then he lets his magic flare, lets the pressure of it roll across the room like the black merciless depths of a storm-tossed ocean, lets it eclipse them all like death come to call, and then he brings it crashing down, not most of it, not even half, because he hasn't forgotten that these are children, that they're still young, and they can learn, they can be better, and Hadrian doesn't actually want to traumatize them permanently.

But he also remembers Draco - his world's Draco - telling him once, in a fit of aggravated exasperation during one of those times when they'd devolved into insulting each other's House traits yet again because they still hadn't understood what made the other tick, but they had also reached a point in their friendship where they'd started trying to, and kept trying.

"Slytherins respect power," Draco had said, not for the first time, but then he'd also added, for the first time, and haltingly as if he hadn't known why he'd had to explain it at all, "How else are you going to know they're worth your time? Or I guess worth befriending, in your Gryffindor terms."

"You don't decide whether or not to make friends based on how powerful someone is."

"Slytherins don't have friends. I only said friend because you're a Gryffindor and you don't understand anything else."

"Fine, you don't decide whether or not to associate with every single person you come across in your life based on how powerful they are either."

"Why not?"

"Why would you??"

"How else would you know they're strong enough to stand with you? Or competent enough to protect themselves? Power is a good starting line. If they're powerful enough, then they won't be afraid to face your enemies with you, and you can trust them to be capable of keeping themselves safe without having to keep an eye on them every minute of the day. Only brainless Gryffindors prefer doing things like throwing themselves in the line of fire and dying dramatically for each other and calling that a win. Let me tell you something, Potter - it's not a victory when you're forced to suffer a loss. You haven't won anything if you're not around to enjoy the aftermath. So the best allies must be ones who are powerful enough to not only achieve their goals but also survive them."

"…"

"Well, I will grudgingly admit that I didn't put quite that much thought into it when I was younger, but who did? …It's what I believe now though. Did I finally get it through your thick skull this time, Potter?"

After that particular conversation, Hadrian had understood a little better, even if he hadn't entirely agreed with it all. But he hadn't forgotten a single word, and Draco was right— as they are, these kids definitely aren't thinking that deeply, but Hadrian thinks that the core of it at least is the same. Slytherins respect power. And he has power in spades, so at the very least, he can make them respect him.

Of course, if that also happens to make them afraid of him, then, well, he was never aiming to be their friend or even ally anyway. So long as they leave him alone, it's fine.

He brings his magic to bear, allows the weight of it to fall and fall and fall, and he watches dispassionately as Draco goes grey, as Crabbe and Goyle's knees buckle, as Zabini flinches back like he wants to melt into the walls, as Nott curls into himself and may or may not have stopped breathing.

Hadrian catches Draco's eye, and doesn't let him look away. "I have no betters. Do I make myself clear?"

He'd spent half his life being beaten down by the Dursleys, told over and over that he was worth nothing, that he didn’t deserve food or clothes or kindness, that he was a waste of space and better off dead. He'd spent a good chunk of his Hogwarts career obliviously dancing to Dumbledore's tune, and then some more of it knowingly dancing to it because what else could he do with a target on his back. He'd spent over twenty years shackled to Voldemort, to his parents' legacy, to a war that had loved him a whole lot more than he'd ever loved it. And he'd been Fate's everything since before he'd ever even been born.

Some days, he wonders if he even knows what freedom is anymore. Or if he's ever known at all.

But one thing he is sure of is that he will never passively tolerate anyone controlling what he can or cannot do ever again.

Draco whimpers something like agreement, like deference, like surrender, and- that's enough. Hadrian reels it all back, all his magic hidden away again, and in the dizzying wake of its abrupt disappearance, Draco collapses, barely catching himself and his dignity with the edge of his bed. Crabbe and Goyle do crash to the ground, while Zabini has to steady himself against his nightstand, and Nott sways like he might faint.

Too much, Hadrian thinks distantly, and tries to feel bad about it because he really hadn't meant to go that far, but his lines in the sand have also long since blurred away beneath a tide of blood and corpses.

Mostly, he just feels tired, and it has nothing to do with his displays of magic tonight.

He breathes. Turns. Grabs a towel and his underwear and pyjamas and pretends everything's fine. It is fine, now. He's gotten what he wanted. "It's getting late. I'll shower first. Won't be long."

And then he's exiting stage right, straight into the bathroom, and it's a relief to close the door behind him.

Of course, that sentiment is one that's shared by probably every single person in the room.

-0-0-0-

Theo is awake before anyone else the next morning. Or at least he thinks he is because he usually is. But everybody's curtains are drawn, and after last night, he doubts anyone was able to sleep right away, if at all, with the exception of their new roommate.

Hadrian Evans. Great Merlin, where had this person even come from? Even just the memory of his magic - vast and endless and utterly uncompromising - pressing down on them like the sky had fallen on their heads, makes his hands want to shake all over again. For a long, suspended, suffocating moment that could've lasted an eternity, Theo could've sworn he was going to die last night. And the most terrifying thing is that he is absolutely certain that Evans hadn't even been trying that hard.

Evans had radiated enough raw power to force all of them to their knees if he'd really wanted to. But he'd held back. He'd only given them a glimpse, just enough to warn them off. The rest of his magic had been out of reach, but present. It was there, reined in and waiting, but the shape of it and the depth of it had felt… unfathomable, as if it had no limits.

And that doesn't even account for the spellwork he had done. Theo had recognized the Disarming Charm, but last he checked, the average Expelliarmus only deprived a wizard of their wand. A more powerful one might send the target flying and even knock them out, but he's never heard of one that can… threaten to disarm your opponent at your leisure and - if Theo wasn't mistaken - force the wand to forsake its owner. Everybody knows that that's always a possibility in a real duel; if you win and take your opponent's wand, then that wand might not work for its owner anymore. But most of the time, you have to mean it, you have to set out with the intent to do it, the buildup of magic in the duel itself gives that intent a foundation, and there has to be an actual possibly life-threatening conflict of interest between the parties too, a real enmity that even last night - however excessive the exchange - shouldn't have qualified. Squabbles between students just don't count. If it did, with the Disarming Charm being taught in school, there would be a lot more students in need of new wands. The only way Theo can rationalize it happening anyway is that Evans must've been strong enough to compel the wand itself to leave its owner.

Pity he hadn't gone through with it in the end. Evans is powerful, but he's also… Theo is hesitant to call him soft, but if it had been Malfoy, if it had been Blaise or even himself or pretty much any other Slytherin, they would've done it. He's unsure of why Evans hadn't.

And then there had been the thing with the quill. Theo can't even explain that, and he'd mulled it over for half the night. He has the… incidental fortune of occupying the bed closest to Evans', so as soon as Evans had ducked into the bathroom last night, and the others had been distracted with pulling themselves together and possibly trying not to wet themselves, Theo had chanced a swift peek into Evans' wastebasket.

It really had looked just like any other regular quill, one that'd been burnt completely black and missing most of its barbs, but it had been a quill. He'd been tempted to open Evans' desk drawer to check the other quills, but - with Evans' ultimatum still ringing in his ears - he hadn't been that suicidal, so he'd refrained. But from what he could recall, the pack it had come from had looked just like the mass-produced writing utensils one could find in any stationery shop in Diagon Alley.

Whatever he'd done though, he had made it look like child's play. A quill and a Disarming Charm, so fast that Theo could've blinked and missed it. Could someone like that really have remained in obscurity all this time? Evans had apparently been homeschooled up until now, and they haven't even attended their first class yet, but by anyone's definition, after last night, he can't claim to be anything less than a prodigy.

It's… unbelievable. And not even because of any of the blood purity ideals that Malfoy likes to preach about. Theo doesn't think much of muggleborns or halfbloods, but he also doesn't think much of most purebloods, so he's fairly certain it's not high society prejudices that's driving his disbelief. It's just… He's never met anyone - not even his father, and Merlin knows Theo's been afraid of him for as long as he can remember - as effortlessly powerful as Evans had shown himself to be, and he doesn't understand how nobody has heard even a whisper of a rumour of this boy before he'd arrived at Hogwarts.

Someone like him shouldn't exist. Or perhaps there has been one, and that had been how the Dark Lord had made so many people bow at his feet or cower in their homes, but Theo had never met him in person, and so all he has is Evans' example to draw from. And not a single witch or wizard whom Theo's ever met could compare.

Has Evans just been hiding himself? Maybe his family hid him before they deemed him ready to face the rest of the world, and he's certainly proven that he can hide it when he wants to. But what kind of family can bring up this kind of wizard? Evans is only fourteen. None of them had thought him anything special before he'd revealed exactly how wrong they were. And he probably wouldn't have done even that much if Malfoy hadn't immediately taken a go at him, always so obsessed with making sure everyone knows he sits at the top of the food chain.

Well, he certainly doesn't anymore, and if Theo hadn't been caught up in the confrontation last night just like everyone else, he would've been tempted to applaud the spectacle of Malfoy being taken down a peg or ten. Before Evans' arrival, Theo was the one Malfoy liked to take jabs at every few days, and it was only partly because he'd had a halfblood mother. The Notts could've been said to be respectably rich once upon a time, but after the war had ended, with his father's political clout being almost nonexistent and most of their extended relatives either dead or in Azkaban, they'd been easy pickings for the Aurors. His father had escaped prison time with the Imperius excuse and some bribes, but that hadn't prevented multiple raids on their home and a hefty list of fines that had left their vaults near-depleted. And what little fortune they have left is reserved almost entirely for Theo's father's alchemy obsession that's more often focused on illegal research topics than not, as well as his black market dealings, although neither of those at least is widely known, or who knows if they would even have their ancestral manor left after the Aurors were done with them?

Malfoy loved reminding him of almost every one of those things as often as he could, and the most absurd thing is that - more than being born from a halfblood mother or poverty or loss of prestige - Theo's pretty sure Malfoy's biggest reason for disliking Theo is because Theo had refused to follow him around like Crabbe and Goyle back in first year.

So here they are now, and after three years, Theo had more or less become inured, not to mention it wasn't as if Malfoy only bullied him, or even bullied him the most - nobody could top that list while Potter and Weasley were around to fight for first place on it - but it had still been annoying and stressful because Theo was the only one who had to share a dorm with him. Considering the Malfoys' standing in society however, all he could ever do was stay silent and bear with it.

Admittedly, he'd been a little happy when Evans had been sorted into Slytherin, because between Theo and an unknown halfblood-at-best with no allies and no significant family background to speak of, the perfect prey in every way, Malfoy would definitely enjoy targeting the latter more, and even if the blond ponce still came after Theo, it would at least take some of the pressure off of him.

Now… well. That will still probably pick back up sooner or later, but Theo resents it less when he thinks about how it will take at least a few weeks before Malfoy will be able to strut around again after last night's humiliation. And also…

He thinks again of last night, of how Evans had basically smacked Malfoy down like he was nothing more than an unruly upstart getting above himself, and of that quiet oath too - I have no betters - and it hadn't even been pride or arrogance or superiority, only stone-cold certain fact.

He thinks of the fear he'd felt, but behind that, beneath that, more than that, there had also been nothing less than a breathless, heady, wondrous sense of reverence that had settled itself behind his ribcage, in his lungs, in the sudden hungry swell of curiosity that he'd just barely managed to lock behind his teeth, and it had only grown stronger after a night of fitful sleep.

He wants to see that magic again. He wants to know what else Evans can do.

And most importantly, he wants to know if he can do it too.

-0-

Ten minutes later, Theo hears Evans pull his bed curtains back. Very cautiously, he twitches his own curtains open half an inch to watch Evans get up, stretching languidly and scrubbing a hand through his messy black hair before gathering up his toiletries and a change of clothes. Like this, he looks completely normal, nothing at all like someone who could flatten all five of his roommates with a thoughtless flex of his magic. Even his eyes are just green now, no longer glowing like the light of a Killing Curse.

Of course, then Evans waves a hand at his window curtains, which obediently sweep open in response, and… yes, why not? Wandless magic seems par for the course for Evans, even if Theo has only ever heard of a handful of seventh-years capable of some very basic wandless spells if they concentrate hard enough.

Evans leaves for the bathroom as if casual uses of wandless magic is an everyday occurrence for him, and only after the door has closed does Theo let himself relax.

Evans had never even glanced over, but somehow, Theo thinks the other boy had known he was being watched anyway. But he'd said nothing, hadn't even given any indication that he'd noticed, let alone minded. Theo still isn't sure why he'd let Malfoy off so easily yesterday - because on hindsight, when it came down to it, all Evans had really done was scare them and scare Malfoy most of all; despite the verbal abuse and even the Dark charm Malfoy had shot at him, Evans hadn't actually hurt any of them in return - and Theo doesn't get it but maybe part of it is just because Evans doesn't take offence easily.

It seems unwise to Theo to not at least dole out some injuries as a reminder when that offence had been as insolent as Malfoy's, but perhaps Evans has his own measure of such things. Besides, Malfoy's known to say worse. Theo's looking forward to what happens if Malfoy forgets himself and says something even more loathsome. It's not impossible. Malfoy has been unchallenged since he came to Hogwarts. He's used to saying and doing whatever he wants, even to the upper years and those outside his own House. Most people ignore him when they can and indulge him when they can't, or otherwise manage or placate him with their own methods, but the one thing no one has ever done is tell him no, tell him to stop and make it stick. Potter and Weasley tend to give as good as they get, what with how short their tempers are, but they're louder and more obvious about it, so they get caught more often, which just makes them even angrier, so it never actually feels like they win, even when Malfoy doesn't either. Certainly, no amount of lectures or point loss has managed to deflate his ego.

But now there's Hadrian Evans. Theo doesn't need a second demonstration to know that Malfoy is outclassed in every way, but funnily enough, Malfoy himself might need it.

Theo eyes the bathroom door for a moment longer before finally getting up himself. He's barely set his feet on the rug before Blaise - in the bed on Theo's other side - also whips open his curtains, looking far more alert than he ever has this early in the morning.

For several seconds, they stare at each other in silence. And then - because he isn't sure if the other three boys in the room are awake yet - Theo pitches his voice even lower than usual and says, "He said Malfoy spoke for us."

Blaise blinks twice, and then something like distaste curves up at one corner of his mouth. "I heard."

Theo nods. They're on the same page then. Neither of them is particularly keen on this opinion that Evans has regrettably formed, Theo because of obvious reasons, and Blaise because he's Blaise.

Blaise has always been strange. He's the type who gets along with everyone and gets along with no one. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone - biased Gryffindors aside - who would say a bad word about him, but they'd probably have to think a while if you asked them to describe something of personal significance about him too. It's not that he's average - he's never failed a class, and he's especially good at Potions - but for all that he can carry a conversation in a way that makes everyone feel comfortable and included, and he could probably talk rings around a politician without making them feel stupid, he also never lets anyone close enough to actually get to know him. He's approachable, but only when he wants you to approach him. He's generous with his smiles, but sometimes, it feels a little like he's laughing at you. He might say something condescending or spiteful to you one day, but he has the kind of charisma that makes you forget that the very next. People might call him friend and invite him over for a chat or a game of chess, but most don't make any attempts to go beyond that. And if you know what to look for, as Theo has learned to do, you would realize - Blaise views the world like it's one big boring joke, and his estimation of most of the people in it is probably somewhere around the level of dancing clowns.

Theo doesn't mind. The two of them aren't friends either. They're also not enemies though, and occasionally, they can be allies, but only when Blaise feels like it. Sometimes, the other boy will distract Malfoy from messing up Theo's potion in class or launching yet another diatribe on all of Theo's deficiencies, but Theo will never ask him to because he has nothing to repay Blaise with.

It works for them. Blaise does what Blaise wants, and even Malfoy can't control him. Theo is secretly envious of that— with the Zabinis' seat of power in Italy, it means they don't have that much clout in Britain, and yet nobody messes with Blaise, not even the few who don't buy into Blaise's charm or simply hate him because he's a Slytherin. Not even Malfoy messes with him, and even Theo can't tell if it's Malfoy's self-preservation instincts kicking in to ensure that he isn't about to go insulting someone with a black widow mother like Blaise's, or if Malfoy genuinely hasn't noticed that Blaise doesn't respect him at all no matter how pleasant his words can be. Honestly, when it comes to Malfoy, there's a decent chance of either option being true.

With all that in mind though, it's not a surprise that Blaise isn't pleased with being slotted in as one of Malfoy's lackeys, especially by someone as impressive - or, as Blaise might put it, entertaining - as Hadrian Evans has swiftly proved himself to be.

"It's fine," Blaise says next, rolling out of bed to get ready for the day. He's already regained his typical lazy slouch, as if he hadn't been just as terrified as the rest of them last night. His eyes slide to the bathroom, then away, unreadable but more focused than Theo's ever seen them. "We live in the same dorm, and we'll attend at least most of the same classes. He'll see soon enough that we don't share the same opinions as Malfoy."

Theo watches him dig into his wardrobe. "And then?"

"Then?" Blaise tips a more familiar look of knowing amusement at him. "Then you do what you want, and I'll do what I want, and at the very least, we'll have the good sense to not throw ourselves straight onto a hippogriff's talons like dear Draco."

Theo smothers a snort and rises to his feet. Neither he nor Blaise take Care of Magical Creatures, but everybody had heard of Malfoy's idiocy last year. The phrase "my father will hear about this!" had reached a record high by winter's end. Not much had come of it, not when Hagrid had had the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore championing him. Even Lucius Malfoy would - and had, more than once over the years - find it difficult to contend with the British wizarding world's vaunted war heroes when they join forces. In the end, Hagrid could continue teaching so long as he did it alongside a second professor hired by the school, and even the hippogriff got to live. Malfoy had not been happy, and he'd made sure everybody knew it too, but at least he'd also whined less about it once Slytherin House had learned to snigger about it where he wouldn't hear.

But 'throwing oneself onto a hippogriff's talons' had become rather popular vernacular ever since, subtle enough that even Malfoy couldn't call anyone out on using it without embarrassing himself, but funny to everyone who understood, and nobody could even say who'd started the phrase. Theo's money would be on Blaise though.

The bathroom is spelled so that nobody outside can hear anything when the door is shut, but they can hear the lock click open just fine, and almost in tandem, he and Blaise both immerse themselves in picking out their outfits for the day as if it's a task that requires every last bit of their attention.

Evans walks out. True to his word, he ignores them completely, neither greeting them nor sparing them a glance as he moves back to his section of the dorm. Theo watches him out of the corner of his eye as the boy folds his pyjamas away before proceeding to pack his bag. He catches a glimpse of an Ancient Runes textbook, and his mind abruptly flashes back to the quill. But… that can't be right.

Evans shuts his bag, pulls on his robes, and toes on his shoes. Like this, there's something vaguely familiar about him that Theo can't place right away, and the thought is gone again as Evans slings his bag over his shoulder and strides for the door.

He still doesn't look at any of them, and he's gone from the room a moment later. They might as well have been empty air.

Theo's fingers tighten around the shirt he's holding. Somehow, he-

-doesn't like it.

-0-

Malfoy gets up two minutes after Evans is gone, moving around with an exaggeratedly unaffected sort of poise that makes Theo want to roll his eyes. At least the blond doesn't try to make conversation until Crabbe and Goyle wake up as well.

Evans aside, Theo is the first out of the room, as per usual, although this time, Blaise accompanies him up to the common room and out of the Dungeon. It takes no time at all to arrive at the Great Hall, and this early, most of the four House tables are still empty of students, although more and more are gradually drifting in in groups of threes and fours.

Unlike the other Houses who like cramming into whatever space they see, Slytherins are more political about it. The end seats are left to the outcasts or first-years who don't know better yet, while the midway point of the table is typically reserved for the most influential students, such as those with the best grades or the largest range of social connections or the strongest family background, or some combination of the three. And everybody else arranges themselves between the two extremes accordingly. The only time that changes - from what Theo has heard - is when someone is so magically powerful that they can overwhelm everyone else. Then it doesn't matter what grades or connections or background they have because magic is respected most of all, although they would usually have some qualifications in those other areas. But either way, they would be given reigning place of pride in the middle with their chosen followers around them, and everybody else would sit where they're told to sit, regardless of their accomplishments.

Someone like that hasn't come along in fifty years though, not since the Dark Lord was still at Hogwarts.

So it's jarring to see Evans seated at the very end, furthest away from the High Table, with a book open in front of him and a steaming mug in one hand, but Theo supposes it shouldn't be. He's newly transferred in, and a halfblood besides, so he probably doesn't know about the traditional seating arrangement, and since it's still just the second day of school, it's not as if anybody else outside their dorm knows that Evans is anything but the unfortunate fourth-year with a muggle surname sorted into Slytherin, so he really can be considered an outcast.

Theo exchanges a look with Blaise before tentatively taking a seat at their usual spot a few feet away from the halfway point of the table. It doesn't feel right to… go over Evans' head like this, but it's not like they can really do anything about it at the moment. Theo in particular is technically sitting above his station, but his family is still one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, no matter how far it's fallen, and he gets decent grades in almost every class. He's also on friendly terms with Blaise, and the fact that he shares a dorm with Malfoy is a double-edged sword. Malfoy has the status to sit near the middle ever since he was a first-year, and it wouldn't look very good for him if he's seen completely spurning a Nott in his generation. So Theo is largely left alone so long as he looks like he's nominally part of Malfoy's group during mealtimes.

Theo spends the next five minutes sneaking sidelong glances down the table. Blaise does the same, and neither of them is obvious about it so nobody comes up to ask them any questions. Other Slytherins begin filing in, and more than one wrinkles their nose or sneers when they pass Evans, as if they've smelled something repulsive.

Theo has to make an effort not to wince every time it happens. Blaise watches with a shallow smirk hitched across his face and something cold and callous and thoroughly amused in his eyes.

By the time Malfoy - with Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him - sits down across from them, about half the table is full, plates of breakfast have started appearing, and Evans still hasn't looked up from his reading.

Malfoy - much less subtle - shoots something sulky and resentful with just a dash of fear down the table and mutters, "Doesn't even know how to sit properly."

Theo really does roll his eyes this time, although he makes sure to do it down at his scone. Before anyone can say anything else though, Evans unexpectedly straightens, his attention finally lifting from his book. Malfoy immediately stiffens as well like he thinks Evans had heard him from all the way down the table, which Theo wouldn't put past Evans's ability but also doesn't think that Evans thinks that Malfoy is worth that effort to eavesdrop on.

Evans looks around, but not at any of the Slytherins. He cranes his head over one shoulder, seems to catch sight of whatever he's looking for, and gets up, shutting his book and tossing it back in his bag. Then he's making his way across the Hall, past the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws, straight over to the Gryffindor table that's only partially filled at the moment but is also hosting the Golden Trio, who had just come down for breakfast.

Evans stops a few feet away, and Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger turn to face him. What Theo can see of their expressions indicate that they're surprised and a little wary, but they also seem like they know each other. They converse about something, Weasley makes some exaggerated hand gestures, Granger smacks him, and then Evans says something else that makes the Gryffindors burst into laughter, startled but bright.

And then Evans moves forward and-

-sits down.

At the Gryffindor table.

Longbottom and Granger are smiling, and even Weasley - with his hatred for everything Slytherin - seems fine with it, going back to plating more food for himself while passing some sausages over to Evans.

In Theo's peripheral, Malfoy's face has lost so much colour that he could pass for a ghost. Theo can't tell if he's just that offended or if he's actually managed to comprehend the fact that he's already alienated possibly the most magically powerful student at Hogwarts from Slytherin House, to the point where that student doesn't even want to eat at the same table as them, and classes haven't even started yet.

Theo can't tell, nor does he care, but if he'd ever needed any more reasons to despise Draco Malfoy, this would be it.

He averts his gaze from Evans, even if the mere thought of him preferring a bunch of Gryffindors - and those Gryffindors at that; the only ones worse would be Potter's lot - over his own House is… grating. But staring isn't going to win Theo any favours and might just tick Evans off. Besides, there are plenty of others who have noticed a Slytherin sitting with Gryffindors, and they're staring enough for ten of him.

He starts on his breakfast. School has just begun. There's plenty more time in the future to observe Hadrian Evans.

-0-0-0-

Within the space of a week, Theo is cautiously pleased to find that he shares all nine classes with Evans. The core subjects are mandatory of course, but in addition to Ancient Runes, Evans also takes Arithmancy, both of which Theo is also studying, and after three weeks, he gets a slightly more detailed picture of what Evans is capable of.

In class, Evans doesn't stand out, or at least not in a way most people would notice. He doesn't take the initiative to answer questions posed by the teachers, and his spells and potions aren't particularly dazzling when they're assigned practical classwork.

But every time a professor calls on him, Evans always answers correctly. Every time they have to practice a new spell, Evans doesn't clamour to be the first to show off, and he isn't the one who produces it with the most eye-catching burst of magic, but when he's asked to show his progress, he always does it exactly the way the teacher demonstrated it at the beginning of class. Even in Potions, all he does is work discreetly in the back corner on the Slytherin side of the room. He never finishes early, but he also never finishes late, never failing to turn in a textbook-perfect potion ten minutes before class ends, and a couple times, Theo catches Snape watching Evans with an inscrutable expression after the boy quietly hands in yet another flawless potion.

After three weeks, Theo can conclude that while Evans doesn't deliberately dumb himself down, and in fact is performing spectacularly across the board, he does it in such a reserved, inconspicuous manner that even most of the professors probably aren't going to notice until they've graded a good few months' worth of homework and tests.

He does it for every subject. Every single one, except Ancient Runes, and Theo is convinced that that's less because Evans didn't try, and more that… well, some brilliance just can't be hidden.

In the third week, when Babbling hands back their first assignment - Acceptables and Poors all around of course; some days, Theo isn't sure if he wants to strangle Babbling or himself, just to put himself out of the misery that is attempting to understand anything their Runes professor says - she holds Evans back at the end of class, and half the students snicker like they think he's in trouble or did so badly that even Babbling can't stand it, and it's the best joke they've ever seen. But two days later, some papers that Evans has left out on his desk while he's off doing something else, probably with his Gryffindor buddies, catch Theo's eye while he's on his way to his own desk. More specifically, the symbol of the Department of Magical Education stamped on them catches Theo's eye, and after some very hasty and very undignified neck-straining and squinting from a prudent five feet away, he more or less understands.

Babbling hadn't held Evans back because he was doing badly. Babbling had held him back because he was doing so good he would be sitting his Ancient Runes O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams on the twenty-third of October.

Three minutes after that revelation, Theo's still sitting somewhat dazed in his chair when Malfoy returns, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. The blond also spots the papers on Evans' desk and - after suffering day after day of, in Malfoy's increasingly belligerent opinion, being disgraced by Evans due to all the time he was spending with Gryffindors, and even three of the ones Malfoy hates most - practically lights up with a malicious sort of glee at the opportunity to get a little revenge.

He seems to have already forgotten that first night's lesson, and it hasn't even been a month yet. Sometimes, Theo is honestly baffled by Malfoy's Sorting into Slytherin. What ambition is there in a boy whose solution to everything in life is to fall back on his father and surname and family money? What cunning is there to speak of when he so often acts without even considering the option of leaving himself a way out, just in case his taunts and schemes backfire on him one day?

Or perhaps the real mystery is how he's managed to go this long without anyone telling him that the world won't always bend to his demands.

"O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams?" Malfoy says loudly as he wanders over to read the papers. He scoffs. "No matter how much magic he has, there's no way that's possible. He's just a fourth-year. And a halfblood! I bet he paid Babbling to sign him up for them. Everybody knows she's not all there so Evans wouldn't even have to pay her a lot to persuade her."

Theo flicks a glance at Blaise, who'd brought up the rear, a few seconds behind Malfoy, and had entered on near-inaudible footsteps in time to witness this latest snowballing disaster. The taller boy's lip curls, and his next words come out in such a nonchalant drawl that it takes a moment for Malfoy to register the bite of them, "Why would he do that though? He's not you."

Malfoy flushes an unflattering shade of red. "Zabini! That's not funny!"

Blaise's insults are always taken as jokes. Theo thinks that's the only way Malfoy can weather them, because he doesn't truly dare to cross Blaise, so even if he does know better, he still has to feign ignorance.

"It can't be possible," Malfoy repeats, turning back to the papers. "Otherwise, why hasn't he said anything about it? If it were me, I'd let everyone know! Obviously, he knows he'll fail, so he doesn't dare to spread it around."

Theo tries to wrap his mind around that logic, fails, and gives it up as a bad job.

"Then, why is he taking them?" Crabbe suddenly pipes up, blinking with a befuddled air in Malfoy's direction.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "Obviously, Crabbe, it's to impress the Boy Who Lived. You've seen how Evans is constantly fawning over Longbottom." And there's the jealousy leaking into his voice even as it strengthens as if he's gaining confidence in his conjecture the longer he speaks. "He's still just a vulgar halfblood with subpar upbringing after all. He needs political connections if he wants to make anything of himself in our world. And Longbottom's a soft touch, and an idiot besides at everything that isn't digging in the dirt. Just trying to take the exams is probably enough to make him think Evans is a genius."

He takes another step forward, almost hovering over the desk now, childish spite tarnishing his features. "Let's see what the rest of Slytherin thinks of this. We are in the same House so Evans should look for support from real purebloods. I'll help him out."

Malfoy reaches out, and Theo goes still, staring, avid and unblinking.

(Greedy.)

Hadrian Evans does not disappoint him.

Malfoy's hand lands on the papers, and it's as if a miniature explosion takes place. There's no warning as the desk ignites with enough interlocked, interwoven, bloody intricate runes to send anyone reeling. It blankets the entire desk in layers of circles and lines and eye-watering spirals, before even those disappear in a blaze of brilliant silver light that pulses once before bursting outward and knocking Malfoy clean off his feet.

Malfoy screams as he's sent flying across the room in a tangle of flailing limbs and flapping robes. Coincidentally - or not? - he lands on his bed in a graceless upside-down heap, the bag he's still wearing smacks him in the face, and the momentum tumbles him straight over the far side of his bed and onto the floor with a final muffled thump that cuts Malfoy's shriek to a yelp.

The light disappears, along with the runes. The room goes eerily quiet, and for a long moment, nobody moves.

It's Blaise who reacts first.

He laughs.

It's enough to snap Malfoy out of his stupor. The blond scrambles to right himself, pushing to his feet, fury and humiliation writ large across his face as he opens his mouth to shout, "Shut up, Zabini! Wait until my father hears about this! Evans will regret-"

There's a clatter. The door opens.

Malfoy shuts up so fast Theo wouldn't be surprised if he bit his tongue.

Evans steps inside, and then stops. He looks around, looks at his desk, looks at a still dishevelled and increasingly pallid Malfoy, and then he shuts the door behind him and heaves a very deep sigh.

"Seriously?" He asks in rhetorical tones. "I just went to borrow a library book. I couldn't have been gone for more than thirty minutes."

Nobody says anything. Evans sighs again before striding over to his desk. He raises a hand and combs his fingers through the air— or perhaps something only he could see, and that's proven correct as a runic array shimmers into existence, swirling together before reshaping itself into-

-a memory.

Specifically, it's a replay of everything Malfoy had said and done as soon as he'd gotten within three feet of Evans' belongings, complete with sound and colour. It's basically a pensieve without the pensieve or the removal of memories to supply it.

Theo wants so badly that his teeth ache with the leashed desire to ask a million questions immediately.

Patience, he reminds himself.

"Hm," Evans says once the memory's run its course, and the runes wisp away once more. Theo is both surprised and not when the other boy proceeds to pull out his chair, sit down, and dig out his library book, clearly intent to continue his work.

Behind him, Malfoy seethes, and before he can think better of it, or he simply doesn't think, he barks out, "Do you think you can treat me this way, Evans? Do you know who my father is? When I tell him about this-"

"Tell him then," Evans interjects, leaning back to slant a cool look at Malfoy. "Tell him you tried to steal my things, and my wards tossed you onto your bed, and the only thing it really bruised was your ego. Or you can lie and make up something that would make you more of a victim, and big bad mudblood Hadrian Evans bullied you terribly. What's the worst that could happen? Expulsion?" He huffs a laugh, and as far as Theo can tell, the thread of mirth that laces the sound is astonishingly sincere. "Malfoy, I don't actually care. I don't need Hogwarts."

He really doesn't. Worse comes to worst, which other school would be daft enough to not scoop him up if they see what he can do with runes? And that's not even getting into everything else he can do. Any school would accept him in a heartbeat and then laugh themselves to tears if Lucius Malfoy actually managed to get him ejected from Britain's sphere of influence on some trumped up charges just because his son went crying to him. Besides, since Evans had been previously homeschooled, he could always just return to that as well.

Malfoy opens his mouth, then closes it, and he does that a couple times, eyes wide in his face like he's never met anyone who has stonewalled him this way, who has challenged his authority so directly, more than once, and yet remains utterly unintimidated and untouchable.

Evidently, he never has.

Evans regards him for a few seconds more before sighing once more. "I thought I was clear enough that first night, but apparently not. When I say 'attack', I don't just mean with a wand. All my things are off-limits unless I say otherwise, so if I were you, I would keep my hands to myself. You don't want to know what my wards will do to you if they sense intentions worse than just petty theft. I hope you won't forget again."

He holds Malfoy's faltering gaze for a moment longer before turning back to his books and papers. Malfoy stumbles back a step as if he's been physically released, and he looks like he wants to pitch a temper tantrum but also doesn't dare. In the end, he storms out of the room without even straightening his robes or smoothing back his hair, and nobody tries to stop him or go after him, not even Crabbe or Goyle, who've both retreated to their beds, shoulders hunched, almost bowed, angled almost in Evans' direction.

Evans is already poring over his library book though, quill in one hand, inkwell set out, fresh parchment beside it. It's clear he's done interacting with the lot of them.

Theo almost lets it go, as he has every other time he wants to speak to Evans, to ask him questions, to know. He's already biting his tongue and swallowing down the words and opening his bag to fish out his homework.

Except-

It's been three weeks. Theo can be patient when he has to be, but more and more, it's… starting to feel like he doesn't have to be. He's had an entire childhood's worth of practice at dissecting emotions, at looking at a person's face and words and actions and taking all of them into account to figure out how they really feel, if they're angry at him or upset with him, if they're about to lash out even when they're smiling, or if there's still time to appease them even if they look like they're about to go for their wand.

Evans is harder to read than most, but at the very least, Theo can tell that he doesn't get angry often. In fact, there's only ever been that one time, that first night, and even for most of that incident, Evans had only acted to secure his own safety in their dorm once it became clear that Malfoy wasn't going to leave him alone otherwise. None of it had been driven by rage, not even when he'd nearly drowned them in the undertow of his magic over that particular handful of words Malfoy had jeered at him. And ever since then, Evans hasn't done anything except go about his business while ignoring theirs. That went for the rest of Slytherin too, and even some students in other Houses who don't like the fact that he's a Slytherin. Sometimes, they make snide remarks, usually behind his back, sometimes within his hearing range, and to a man, every student in their House has openly shunned him since he went to sit with the Golden Trio that first breakfast, but Evans has never given them a second glance, or really even a first glance, not out of anger or embarrassment or distress, and certainly not out of any desire for them to accept him, which just seems to offend them even more. But Evans is simply… indifferent to it all.

Most importantly, as much as Theo has been able to conclude, Evans isn't prone to violence. He always seems calm and easygoing when he's with the Golden Trio, and quiet the rest of the time. And from the very beginning, he's never done anything to harm any fellow Slytherins, not even Malfoy. Even his wards seem to have some kind of function worked into them that would rate the level of threat first and only respond with the same degree of damage.

Actually, not the same— if Malfoy had been caught taking another Slytherin's documents without permission, important or not, it wouldn't be too much even if they cursed his hands in return. They probably wouldn't, because it's Malfoy, and people are used to being more lenient with him, but normally, even Malfoy wouldn't do something that gauche anyway. No matter how much they've spoiled him, his parents have at least taught him pureblood etiquette. He's never even tried to rifle through Theo's belongings.

Admittedly, Theo had committed a slight faux pas as well when his curiosity had prompted him to read those Ministry forms, even if they were laid out on Evans' desk - unintentionally seeing them in passing was fine but the polite thing to do would've been to keep walking - but at least he hadn't been stupid enough to get too close, let alone put a single finger on them. Malfoy really only has his own poor impulse control to blame for going too far yet again, and Theo has every right to judge him for it.

Although since it was Evans, Malfoy had probably categorized him as someone who doesn't deserve a pureblood's courtesy.

Even then though, Evans hadn't retaliated with anything more than the ward equivalent of a watered down Knockback Jinx, which is basically a common prank amongst rowdier students. Malfoy's pride had - once again - been hurt, but nothing else, even when it would've been Evans' right. And he hadn't gotten angry this time either.

Of course, Theo isn't foolish enough to think Evans isn't capable of violence when he wants to be. If he's pushed far enough, Theo is certain that the other boy could and would inflict some significant damage that would at least end with a visit to the Hospital Wing. Perhaps it was his magic, the relentless weight of it that said it wouldn't hesitate to crush them if they proved themselves a real threat. Or perhaps it was Evans himself, who looks at Malfoy after each stunt like he's putting up with a recalcitrant child that he has to go easy on because said child is too young to know better, except the detachment in his gaze also says that he's weighing Malfoy's age on a scale and waiting for the day his youth will no longer be able to compensate for his actions.

Frankly, Theo hopes that day will come soon. But that's his pettiness talking, and Malfoy in general is none of his concern. What Theo really wants is to learn all those things for himself. Well, not all, he's more than self-aware enough to know he's nowhere near as powerful as Evans, but some of those things - the spellwork, the runes - surely those things can be taught to others even if they don't have incredible amounts of magic? Even if it's slow-going and difficult, Theo isn't afraid to work for it.

So long as he learns even just a little of what Evans knows - and he clearly knows so much, knows the things that can actually be useful in real life - then perhaps, one day, maybe even before he graduates Hogwarts… escaping his father won't be a fool's hope anymore. And if there's a chance that he can do that, then no matter how exorbitant the price Evans names, Theo would be willing to pay it, even if it takes him the rest of his life to honour the debt.

But nothing's going to happen if they're not even on speaking terms. It's been three weeks. Already three weeks. Only three weeks. Maybe it really is still too soon, but at the very least, Theo doesn't think Evans will do anything worse than say no.

At his back, he can feel Blaise's eyes on him, but he doesn't turn around.

"Is that-" His voice doesn't crack, thankfully, but it comes out croakier than normal, giving away his nervousness. He bites back the urge to hex himself and tries again. "Is that taught by the time we graduate?"

Evans… doesn't react, doesn't even look up. For several tense and increasingly awkward seconds, Theo thinks maybe the other boy will just continue ignoring him, or maybe he even thinks Theo is speaking to one of the others, not him.

But then he writes something down and flips a page of his book, and then he raises his head and shifts away from his desk to face Theo.

It's a little daunting, to suddenly have that piercing bright green regard aimed straight at him, but there's also no hostility that Theo can see, and that settles some of his nerves.

Evans looks at him, then frowns, then asks in return, blunt, but amazingly, willingly enough, "You mean the wards?"

Theo nods carefully, making sure he doesn't look too eager or too demanding. Masters of their trades are always rightfully reticent about their knowledge and skills to anyone who isn't their own mentor or apprentice, unless they're a teacher. Evans may not be a master signed and sealed and authorized to practice, but nobody who can write the exams at fourteen can be considered an amateur.

Evans shrugs. "I haven't exactly flipped through the Ancient Runes syllabus of every year so I can't really say. If it continues at the same pace as third-year and fourth-year though, then probably not. You'd maybe get to the point of basic wards, but not much more than that. Compound wards like these-" He raps his knuckles against his own desk. "-put crudely, requires the use of runic coils to weave together multiple basic arrays, on multiple levels, in varying sequential order depending on how multifaceted you want the wards to be. It's not that difficult once you start getting some practice in, but from what I hear, you guys don't even begin practical work until after your O.W.L., which… I don't really get, but maybe Hogwarts is big on theoretical learning. But yeah, at that rate, I don't see how you could be constructing something like this by graduation."

Theo's head is spinning. He didn't understand… anything in that summary except perhaps a general idea of "basic arrays". It's rare for him to feel so stupid.

Evans is still watching him, and he doesn't seem impatient for their exchange to be over, or irritated that it's taking place at all. He looks like he's waiting for Theo to reply, so Theo hurries on to keep the conversation afloat.

"So you didn't learn Runes following the Hogwarts curriculum when you were homeschooled," He surmises. "Does that mean the standards here fall short of the international schools?"

It wouldn't be the first time. Britain's educational requirements have been growing more and more lenient for years. Correspondingly, their elective options have also been reduced to four due to budget cuts and lack of interest in anything harder than petting animals and making up death predictions. Every year, more second-years choose to sign up for Care and Divination than they do Arithmancy or Runes. It's one reason why the number of incoming students has been gradually declining and consists of more muggleborns than purebloods. Foreign schools are strict about accepting any children outside of their designated countries, but those in Great Britain and Ireland who want better for their kids and can afford the higher prices tend to prefer sending them to one international school or another instead of Hogwarts.

But Evans shakes his head. "I wouldn't know that either. I didn't really follow any official curriculum when I was learning." He pauses a beat, like he's thinking about how much to reveal, or even why he's revealing anything, but then he seems to decide it doesn't much matter. "The person who taught me was a bit… unconventional about it. He was a very good teacher, but he wasn't actually a teacher with the degree and whatever else you need to be a Ministry-approved professor, so he didn't really care about following some checklist of what a student attending a magical school was supposed to learn. Plus he was kind of a genius at runes. Ward-cracking and disassembly in particular since that's what he majored in - he was a Curse-Breaker - but he was pretty good at almost everything else too, which meant he found the basic stuff pretty boring. So when he taught me, and he realized I didn't have any trouble getting the foundations down, and I could mostly keep up even when he skipped ahead to more advanced stuff, he basically ended up just jumping between the subjects he liked most, filled in any gaps along the way, and gave me free rein to research whatever I found interesting. And whatever topic I picked was the one he lectured on, or helped me look up if it was one of the few areas he didn't know much about."

His expression turns wry, if only for a moment. "Apparently though, according to Babbling, that means there's nothing left for Hogwarts to teach me. But I don't know how I would compare to students in other schools."

He finishes and falls silent. It's the most he's said since that first night, and it's clear as day that whoever this Curse-Breaker tutor was, Evans respects him a great deal, great enough to ramble on about him to a roomful of near-strangers, and considering what he'd had a hand in molding Evans into, he deserves every bit of that respect too.

Theo envies it. He is oft a creature of envy, and it hollows him out a little more every time it rears its head, but he's resigned to it. He wonders why Hogwarts can't have a teacher like Evans' instead of the whimsical mess that is Babbling, who can never get through a single class without her train of thought wandering away like an untrained dog off its leash.

"Then," Theo continues, carefully neutral, carefully watching for any signs of displeasure on Evans' face. "Once you pass your exams, will you simply have an extra study period slot? Or will you be required to attend another elective?"

Evans blinks at him. "The first, I think. I might see if it's possible to take an owl-distance university course or something, but spare time in my day isn't bad either."

"Then," Theo forges on, watching as Evans's mouth twists a little, like he knows that this is what Theo has been aiming for from the beginning. Theo can't tell if he disapproves though - he doesn't think so - and it's too late to divert his course anyway. "What do you think about tutoring?"

Evans cocks an eyebrow. He doesn't say anything for several anxiety-inducing seconds, just scrutinizing Theo with a face blank enough to rival Snape's when he bothers to stop sneering. The quill in Evans' hand taps-taps-taps against his desk before the boy swings around in his chair completely to face Theo.

"Tutoring," He repeats. "You want me to tutor you in Ancient Runes?"

And at least he doesn't sound derisive, nor does he put any particular emphasis on any part of that question. It does make it harder for Theo to gauge how he should respond though.

"Yes," He confirms, because straightforward seems to be what Evans prefers. He thinks, briefly, of including Blaise, but he doesn't actually know if Blaise would like tutoring as well, and even if he does, Blaise can ask for himself. Theo isn't that charitable, and Blaise might even take offense if he tries to be.

"I can compensate you for your time," He adds, because he's poor by pureblood standards, but not so poor that he can't afford decent education, especially with the nest egg he's been secretly building on the side since he turned eight and realized his inheritance was only going to get smaller at the rate his father was drawing from it for his… extracurriculars. His seven years at Hogwarts at least have already been paid for, robes and supplies and even some pocket money included, because even Silas Nott isn't going to let his son go into public at even more of a disadvantage than he already is. So as long as Evans doesn't ask for a huge sum of money, or even if he does, and he's willing to take part of that payment in favours, then Theo should have enough from his own funds to cover the cost.

Evans leans back in his seat and doesn't say anything about payment. Instead, he looks almost puzzled as he asks, "Why do you need tutoring though? Even if you want to learn stuff like this," He motions at his desk. "I wouldn't be able to even start teaching you how until you got at least the basics down, and that's what Hogwarts teaches, so is there any point in getting more of the same lessons from me?"

For a moment, even Theo can't come up with a way to say 'yes, because Babbling can't teach worth a damn, and I don't actually know how I passed last year but I definitely won't this year with the way her lectures keep getting lost somewhere between class and Atlantis every bloody week' but in more polite terms, if only because Evans might not appreciate anyone badmouthing her since she's obviously the one vouching for Evans' qualifications in order to let him take his exams so early.

Fortunately, Blaise has no such compunctions.

"Have you seen the way Babbling teaches?" The other boy enquires in his usual lackadaisical tone, just aggrieved enough to sound invested, but mild enough to leech the provocation out of it. It also gives Blaise a foot in through the door, drawing Evans' attention to him without making it seem as if he's interrupting.

Theo glances behind him at where Blaise is now lounging in his own desk chair, emptying his bag of textbooks and papers even as he glances over to meet Evans' gaze, and his expression has eased into an invitation to commiserate over Babbling's questionable teaching methods. All of it is designed to look casual and cordial, to keep this fragile first exchange lighthearted, if also full of a resigned sort of exasperation, funnelled together in order to lower Evans' guard.

And it seems to work too, like it does with everyone Blaise turns his charms on. At the very least, the way Evans' mouth quirks in response looks reflexive enough to be genuine.

"That's fair," Evans concedes, a wry sort of humour suffusing his voice. "She's not the best at… staying on topic."

Theo has to suppress a snort, but something of it must show on his face anyway because Evans' eyes snap back to him, and a moment later, a quicksilver grin flits across the other's face, bright in a way that lights up his whole face, and perhaps Blaise will have to try harder after all because Theo realizes that this is what genuine looks like on Evans.

"Okay, I get why you might want a tutor," Evans acknowledges. "But isn't there anyone better for that?"

Theo blinks at him. "Better than someone who's ready to take his exams in a month?"

Evans' eyebrows go up briefly, and something in his eyes sharpens. "No. Better than someone who's a halfblood orphan in Slytherin, stuck in a one-sided grudge-match with a pureblood brat who has all the maturity of a toddler and isn't going to be very happy if his friend starts hanging around the guy he wants to curse into the Hospital Wing."

Orphan? is Theo's first thought, followed by, I wish Malfoy was around to hear that. But all of it is superseded by a defiance that bursts out of him before he can curb it, "We're not friends."

Evans waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Slytherins don't have friends. What I mean is-"

"No," Theo says, wincing internally at how he'd cut Evans off mid-sentence. "I mean, we aren't friends. Normally, we aren't even civil acquaintances most days."

Evans eyes him for a long moment like he can hear all the things Theo isn't saying. Theo's pretty sure Evans doesn't know about his family's circumstances - How would he? Why would he even care to look it up? - but he seems to be able to glean at least the gist of it in a single glance because he seems to accept it easily enough, and the next thing he says is, "Alright, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still not going to be happy about it."

"Good," Theo says, once again before he can stop himself, and with more relish than he should convey. Even if he's often thought that anything that made Malfoy unhappy was a good thing, he's certainly never expressed it out loud. He doesn't know what's come over him, only that there's something about the way Evans is watching him, patient and without judgement, that makes him… bolder than he normally would be.

And since he's already opened his mouth, he might as well keep going.

"So long as you're willing, I don't mind what other people might say," Theo says as firmly as he knows how to be. "I need to raise my grades for Ancient Runes before I take my OWLs next year or I'm never going to pass. I would appreciate any tutoring you can spare the time for." He hesitates, but only for a beat. "If you want, in addition to monetary compensation, I can also snub Malfoy at dinner somehow. And you would know it wouldn't just be some show we put on either. Malfoy doesn't have it in him to be humiliated in public, even as a stunt."

It's far more outspoken and far more audacious than Theo is accustomed to being, and he can feel Blaise's eyes on him again. But he gets the impression that if he doesn't put his cards on the table - that he really does want to learn from Evans, that it's his main motivation, even if it isn't the only one - then Evans might think Theo is playing some kind of trick on him, possibly on Malfoy's orders, and that's the last thing Theo wants him to believe.

Besides, this is also an opportunity. Theo had been resigned to living under Malfoy's temperamental rule for the duration of his Hogwarts career. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be doing more of the same as an adult, after all. Considering the difference in their social status, Theo would still have to bow his head, and jump when told to jump, and remain courteously - or at least forbearingly - deferential in front of Malfoy whenever they see each other. At least this more childish version at school is giving him plenty of practice for the future.

But now, there is Hadrian Evans, whose existence no one had expected and no one thus far can control, who isn't afraid of Malfoy, whom Malfoy is afraid of instead, and Theo honestly can't see that changing. Of course, the real world is very different from some squabbles between teenagers, and Theo has only known Evans for less than a month. But… call it instinct. Even if one day the Malfoy family can really make it so that Evans can no longer live well in Britain, Theo gets the sense that the other boy would rather up and move to a different country than ever submit to anyone.

People with inborn power like Evans won't bow. They don't know how to.

And if Theo can get even a fraction of that protection that openly siding with Evans might earn him, then the choice is obvious. He's long known that he isn't powerful enough or ambitious enough or even brave enough to stand on his own. That in order to thrive, or even to simply live a satisfactory life, it would be best to choose someone's shadow to settle in. Preferably, that someone would be willing enough to leave Theo alone most of the time and wouldn't ask too much of him, but he already knows he wouldn't be able to get that from his father or Malfoy.

Then, there's no point clinging to either of them. Before, there had been no other choices, and between his father and Malfoy, Malfoy was the better bet, though it wasn't as if the blond ponce could've gotten him out from under Silas Nott's thumb either. But at least being - loosely - affiliated with Malfoy would, in the future, offer Theo some protection from his father's obsessive tendencies. It wouldn't do for one of Malfoy's circle of acquaintances to disappear under mysterious circumstances after all.

Now there's a new player on the field. Of course, Evans probably doesn't see himself as one, and wouldn't care even if he knew. But that doesn't change the fact that his shadow casts a long and looming line, and somehow, it feels more like a refuge than anyone else's Theo has ever come across. Evans might not be willing to protect him, if only because he would have to make himself known to do so, and if there's one thing Evans has shown over the past few weeks, it's that he much prefers staying in the background. But even if he isn't willing to protect Theo, at the very least, he can teach Theo how to protect himself. So, Theo might as well take his chances with Evans, and the first step in doing that is to make it very clear to all and sundry that he's throwing his lot in with the halfblood Slytherin transfer.

He hadn't quite been prepared to go this far when he'd first decided to speak to Evans today, but doing things by half measures doesn't bode well for him either. Prevaricating or at least being vaguer about his intentions might leave him an extra hand to play, a way to retreat in case associating with Evans becomes too dangerous one day, but no one likes a fence-sitter.

In Slytherin, every decision is a power play, whether it seems like it or not. An insignificant word or action might result in large consequences that aren't always obvious until the waves and ripples have settled. And Theo's never been much of a gambler, preferring safety over potential riches. But the things he can learn from Evans are too tempting to pass over. Put in plain terms, he's technically using Evans as a means to an end, which no one in Slytherin wouldn't approve of, but for a good chunk of this House, Evans' blood would definitely outweigh any usefulness he might have, especially since he hasn't publicly proven himself in any way at all. And the way he spends all his free time with Gryffindors hardly helps.

Still, it's a risk Theo's willing to take. And now the Quaffle is in Evans' hands, and all that's left is to wait for his answer.

Of course, if Evans says no, then Theo can only hope Blaise is feeling magnanimous today and won't go spreading this little story around. Then again, there's Crabbe and Goyle too, and they'll definitely tell Malfoy, so it will get out either way.

Such is Slytherin, where the only shared secret you can trust to remain a secret is when all other parties are dead.

In front of him, Evans only raises his eyebrows for a moment before amusement quirks one corner of his mouth. "Well you don't have to go that far."

Theo can't tell if the other boy understands the implications of publicly cutting ties with Malfoy, but he's relieved to hear it anyway. He'd do it if it's a condition Evans sets, if only to alleviate any concerns Evans might have of being played, but it's not as if he wants to do it. He would happily see Malfoy humiliated any day of the week, but Theo is at heart an introverted person. Open confrontation of any kind will always make him uncomfortable.

Evans studies him for a while longer as if weighing his sincerity. Eventually, he says, "I'm not opposed to tutoring. Actually, I'm already doing that for Hermione every Wednesday and Saturday. Adding one more doesn't make much of a difference. It's just that I don't love tutoring so much that I want to do it more than twice a week. So," He smiles, and this time, his expression is one of a sharp sort of curiosity. "If you want me to tutor you, then you'll have to be okay with Hermione. And I don't just mean tolerating her presence enough to sit at the same table as her. I mean if you say one bad word about her blood, I'll take that as an attack on me and react accordingly. Understand?"

Theo blinks once, twice, digesting that ultimatum with something like disbelief because- "Is that all?" And then, because it couldn't possibly be that easy, he hastily tacks on, "How much would you like to be paid?"

Evans blinks back at him, looking like he's re-evaluating Theo on the spot. Then he makes a dismissive gesture and says, "I'm not short on money. Also I don't make Hermione pay so it wouldn't be fair if I made you pay." He sits back with a finality that starts bringing an end to their conversation. "Wednesdays and Saturdays, 4-6pm in the library. I know we share all the same classes so that shouldn't be a problem for you. Showing up isn't mandatory, you can just come whenever you want, and I'll tutor you in whatever you need help with. My only condition is that you treat Hermione with basic respect. Of course," His mouth twists into a strange smile. "That goes for her too. And her friends if they happen to stop by."

Theo has to suppress a grimace at that, but it's mostly out of reflexive distaste. Even if Weasley starts flinging insults, he's sure he's heard worse than anything a Gryffindor could come up with, and his tolerance is high, so it doesn't much matter whether Evans can prevent it or not. Actually, it's already pretty novel that he would try at all. This is by far the easiest and weirdest deal Theo has ever been offered, which only makes him that much more suspicious, but Evans also adds no other terms, so Theo is forced to conclude that this really is all Evans wants from him.

The sheer unfairness of what each party is bringing to the table is jarring. Does Evans not understand what's happening here or is he seriously willing to offer up his time and knowledge on a silver platter at basically no cost?

Part of Theo wants to ask again, to make sure Evans really doesn't want anything else, but since they've come to this point, even if Evans were to ask for something in the future, Theo would have no obligation to give it. It's admittedly somewhat uncomfortable, to receive so much in exchange for giving back so little when he wasn't even the one manipulating Evans towards this outcome, but at the same time, wouldn't he just be stupid if he keeps pushing the issue? Complaining about not having to spend any money or owe any favours seems rather counterproductive, and even though Theo is willing to pay for a chance like this, that doesn't mean he wants to if he doesn't have to. Of course, he supposes it isn't very honourable of him to not at least insist on some form of compensation, but that's why Theo isn't a Gryffindor.

So then.

"Very well, I agree to your terms," Theo says, letting himself relax a bit more when Evans' expression doesn't change. And because even a Slytherin should acknowledge genuine goodwill, he shoves past his own discomfort and manages, if a bit stiffly, "Thank you, Evans."

Evans makes a face that's something left of embarrassed. "It's just tutoring, you don't have to be so formal. Besides, you're still the one who's going to have to put up with Malfoy pitching a fit once he finds out."

Theo almost shrugs. That's not anything new. He might have to field some curses hurled his way once other Slytherins realize he's no longer under Malfoy's "protection" and is seen spending time with a halfblood, but it's not as if he has no way of protecting himself from most spells that a student can get away with using in public at Hogwarts. He already has a few family wards set up around his bed too, so Malfoy can't get to him while he's asleep, and the only time he spends in the Common Room is when he's crossing it to leave the Dungeon or return to his dorm, so his Housemates aren't likely to be able to corner him there either. So long as he's careful, he'll be fine.

Blaise's voice cuts into his thoughts, speaking this time with the lightest touch of concern seeping out from behind a thin veil of indifference that would've fooled even Theo if Theo didn't know the way Blaise can change his approach like he's changing clothes depending on his assessment of the person he's talking to. "You sure you don't need to ask Granger first before letting a Slytherin join your tutoring sessions? She might not be too happy to have Theo there. And her friends definitely won't."

Evans' attention shifts again, and as with Theo, his gaze is neither friendly nor hostile, but it's different all the same in a way Theo can't quite name. "Is that my problem?"

The room is quiet for a beat.

Evans smiles, careless, casual. "I'm the one doing the teaching. Who I teach should be up to me, shouldn't it?"

Blaise stares, unblinking, hands finally gone still. "Aren't those Gryffindors your friends though?"

"Sure," Evans agrees. "Still doesn't mean they get to tell me what to do just because they're biased against Slytherins." He shakes his head. "I doubt it'll be much of a problem though. Like you said, they're my friends, and aren't I a Slytherin too?"

Nobody says what Theo is certain they're all thinking— that in many ways, Evans isn't anything like your average Slytherin.

(And in others, Evans is the very epitome of one, but the Golden Trio probably doesn't know that, do they?)

"Are you saying other Slytherins are welcome in your tutoring sessions then?" Blaise says next, and it's the most straightforward Theo has ever seen him, skipping at least three prevarications and five backhanded compliments that Theo could've sworn Blaise would normally include just because he doesn't know any other way to speak. Apparently not.

Except Evans' response is to huff a breath that sounds like laughter, except not in any way they've heard before, not as amicable, and Theo sees Blaise's smile grow a little fixed.

If they were in the business of distributing vices, then excessive hubris would undoubtedly go to Malfoy, but only because Blaise doesn't have the same reckless self-defeating habit of flaunting what he has everywhere and retaliating like a rabid lapdog the moment he feels slighted, the latter of which is helped along by the fact that he doesn't hold many people in high enough esteem for them to offend him. After all, you wouldn't get mad if a ghost or a goblin or even a house-elf - as unlikely as that is - is rude to you, would you? At most, you'd punish the latter and move along with your day. And for those who do register enough as people in Blaise's eyes, well, Blaise far prefers retaliating when the other party least expects it.

It's the same now, in the way Blaise blinks twice rapidly but doesn't otherwise react. Of course, since this is Evans, he won't be able to retaliate later either, not with any kind of success, so it's doubly impressive that the other boy manages to keep his pride nailed down and tucked away.

"You know," Evans says lazily, mirth or perhaps mockery gleaming in his eyes. "You could just ask. Take a leaf out of Theo's book; it wastes less time."

Because even Blaise's straightforwardness needs to take a stroll or two around the block first, and apparently, Evans had caught onto that possibly since the first time Blaise had opened his mouth since this conversation began.

Blaise's lips thin, but after a moment of no doubt weighing the pros and cons, he shrugs gracefully like it doesn't sting and asks, "Then, may I join your tutoring sessions, Evans? I would also appreciate some assistance with my Ancient Runes studies. Of course, I will abide by the terms you've set as well."

Theo listens and wonders just how much self-control those three sentences took. Before today, he hadn't even known Blaise was capable of it, and the fact that he is, for this, actually says a lot more about his regard for Evans than Theo had realized even just a minute ago.

At least Evans doesn't make it harder for Blaise than that.

"Sure," The other boy acquiesces with the air of a predator sitting back on its haunches. "On your own head though."

At this, a trace of a smirk - his real one, beatific in its cruelty, instead of his regular fit-for-public one - cuts across Blaise's face for the span of a heartbeat. "No problem."

Evans levels another long look at him before shaking his head with another twist of a smile. "Okay then. We're all good now?" He looks from Blaise to Theo and even spares half a glance in Crabbe and Goyle's direction before nodding, satisfied. "Fantastic. Back to work for me."

He spins back around to face his desk, reaching for his quill, and the rest of the day passes as usual, without another word traded between them, even when they all get up for dinner. Malfoy comes back shortly before that, stalking over to his section of the dorm with the mulish single-minded intensity of someone unwilling to even acknowledge Evans' existence, although that probably won't last once he finds out what Theo and Blaise have agreed to.

Later, in private, Theo remarks to Blaise, "I didn't expect you to care so much about your Ancient Runes grades."

Blaise slants an indecipherable look at him even as a shallow smile stretches the width of his mouth. "Who wouldn't care about their grades when someone's offering to help raise them for free?"

It's a rhetorical question and answers approximately nothing, but Theo wasn't expecting anything of substance anyway.

Besides, when it comes down to it, he supposes it's not so surprising that Blaise can also see which way the wind is blowing, hard enough to tell anyone with decent enough instincts that a major shift in power is imminent.

And no one likes a fence-sitter.

-0-0-0-

Hadrian would like it to be known that he isn't quite sure how he's gotten to this point in his life.

Well, that's a lie, he sort of knows, or at least he can pinpoint all the decisions that got him from Point A to Point B, but he supposes he just wasn't expecting a couple Slytherins whom he'd always assumed - even back in his original world - were just Malfoy's lackeys in school, to commit, and commit hard. They hadn't even participated in the war on either side, as far as he was aware— Nott had died relatively early on under mysterious circumstances, and Zabini had by all accounts returned to his home country. To Hadrian, they'd been little more than faces in the background that he'd never even exchanged five words with in total before coming to this world.

But within the first week after they've asked to join his tutoring sessions, Nott and Zabini - Slytherin/Pureblood Rule Number Who-Knows-What: you can't use someone else's first name until you're invited to - make it really fucking obvious who they're… supporting? Have sided with? Because Slytherin is a nest of brewing factions and shifting alliances and political doublespeak and even a couple blood feuds, and this is precisely why Hadrian doesn't want anything to do with this House.

Except apparently, agreeing to tutor Nott and Zabini means he's… joined the power struggle? Formed his own faction? Decided to vie for in-House supremacy and possible world domination? Who knows because Hadrian sure doesn't, and he's determined not to know, because surely if he just continues doing his own thing, it'll become clear sooner or later to all and sundry that he has no interest in fighting a bunch of schoolchildren over whatever they think he wants to fight for.

It's just that he can't quite do that either, because not even three weeks after Nott and Zabini start joining him in the library every Wednesday and Saturday with a wary but accepting Hermione, something that translates to them moving their seats to sit with him in class and - when they can make it look natural, if still deliberate - walking with him in the hallways, the displeasure and animosity in Slytherin House reaches breaking point.

It's not as if Hadrian hasn't already been the target of multiple hexes and curses from his own Housemates. He's a halfblood who hangs out with Gryffindors— it's to be expected. But so far, the spells have always been in the realm of reasonable, ones that might make him trip down the stairs or rip his bag or screw up his potion, and he's been able to block or avoid them all, so he'd figured it wasn't that big a deal. He'd put the fear of a Horntail in Malfoy early on because he has to live with the berk, and he doesn't much feel like returning after a long day of classes just to have to butt heads with him every single time. But he basically has no intersections with the rest of the House, so he just hasn't bothered paying attention to any of them.

Then, perhaps rather suddenly, Nott and Zabini are there, not so much orbiting him as they do hover from afar. But they join his tutoring sessions, and they're serious about learning from him, listening earnestly and asking questions and even checking out the books he recommends they read if they have time. There are holes in even the most simple of their fundamental knowledge of Runes - Babbling, read a how-to book on teaching for Merlin's sake - so Hadrian has to more or less start from the ground up, as he had with Hermione, but both of them quickly prove themselves more than intelligent enough to keep up, and they're startling enthusiastic - by Slytherin standards - about everything he teaches them. Nott is more obvious - more ravenous - about it, but even Zabini - who likes to pretend he's only there for the novelty of it or something and therefore tends to play up a laidback sort of indifference - never fails to complete the optional exercises Hadrian writes up for them once a week.

And outside of the tutoring sessions, it's like they've decided that being tutored by him means that he's now their new Malfoy or something. Not that Malfoy was their Malfoy before, if Hadrian had understood Nott correctly, but they'd at least acted like they were part of Malfoy's groupies. Now they've done a one-eighty, and it's not as if they follow him around all the time the way Crabbe and Goyle do with Malfoy, honestly if you don't count classroom and dorm room, they're not even around him half the time, especially Zabini, but when they are around, when they move their cauldrons next to his in Potions class despite working separately, when they go down to breakfast with him despite splitting off at the entrance, when they trail behind him back to the Slytherin Dungeon after a tutoring session, they're so damn conspicuous about it that they might as well be waving neon-bright signs above their heads.

In contrast, they don't even sit next Malfoy during mealtimes anymore, much to the blond's increasing red-faced ire that vaguely resembles a Silenced teakettle on the brink of boiling over. But now they sit at the end of the Slytherin table, which Hadrian has gradually gathered that that's not a good thing, but he doesn't know how to fix it either, and neither Nott nor Zabini seems to mind.

They also talk to him now, not often, not just in private, and not just about Runes, although that does still take up the majority of their conversation topics, if only because they don't know each other that well yet. But in their dorm or in class or in the library or in the halls, sometimes, Nott would say something completely normal, like whether or not he owns an owl or if he's noticed Snape's increasingly intent attention on him or if he's found the secret passageway connecting the Dungeons to the sixth floor yet because climbing six flights of moving stairs isn't what anyone would call a good time. Zabini on the other hand prefers sharing obscure gossip that even most of Slytherin isn't aware of, sordid little secrets like whose parent has a mistress (or three) on the side that will very likely cause an inheritance problem down the road, who killed a cousin over the summer due to jealousy but has done a decent enough job of covering it up as an accident because said cousin had been the heir apparent, and even who had to go to Pomfrey for an Abortion Charm just last week but will likely have to break her betrothal contract - and consequently have her magic bound, as per the terms of said contract - in the future anyway because there's no hiding the loss of her virginity from the olde family magicks no matter how frantically she searches for a way.

To the former, Hadrian responds the way he would if Neville or Ron or Hermione were to ask him similar questions. To the latter, he says, "You have serious issues, Zabini."

Nott never smiles, but his body language is a little less closed off and his eyes look a little less hunted with every random conversation they have. Zabini is almost always smiling, and in response to Hadrian's incredulity, he only laughs like it's the grandest joke he's ever heard.

They grow on him, is the thing. One's probably abused at home, and the other is honestly half a psychopath already, and Hadrian shouldn't care but he's always had a bit of a soft spot for broken people, people who don't quite fit in no matter how well they fake it, people who remind him of himself. And the war he'd survived had only served to destroy what little compunctions he'd ever had about getting too close to dangerous things.

So they grow on him, day by day, and half a month in, the other Slytherins apparently can't handle it anymore.

Hadrian's just coming back from dinner. Nott and Zabini are with him, having joined him once he'd bid Neville, Ron, and Hermione goodnight. They're halfway across the common room when Hadrian catches movement in his peripheral, and he has half a second to decide what to do, to abort the reflex to go for his wand, to cancel the shield ward sparking at his fingertips, to pivot around on the spot and abruptly swing himself right into Nott's personal space, which means Nott immediately puts on the brakes, and - behind him - Zabini has to do the same.

Hadrian senses more than feels the curse that grazes the back of his robes and splashes against the far wall between a pair of suspiciously empty armchairs in an area that's normally a popular hangout spot. There's no sound, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees the way it oozes a sickly viscous purple that puddles to the ground and eats straight through the carpet before finally evaporating into nothing.

He doesn't turn his head, doesn't challenge anyone into a duel the way his hands are itching to do. Instead, even before the spell disappears, he's already asking, "Did you copy down the Potions assignment from today? I just remembered I forgot."

In front of him, Nott's turned three shades whiter, and he's already pale-skinned to begin with, so he obviously recognizes the spell. Zabini clearly does as well if the way he's gone gargoyle-still is anything to go by.

If they'd continued walking, that curse would've hit Nott right in the ribcage. His left ribcage.

A beat of silence passes. Then Nott takes a breath and answers in a voice that doesn't waver but is even more inflectionless than usual. "Yes, I wrote it down. I can show you."

"Cool, thanks, let's go."

Nobody else speaks, nobody even moves, as Hadrian leads the way back to their dorm.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle aren't back yet so they have the room to themselves. As soon as the door is shut, Nott almost slumps onto his bed, hands shaking. Zabini pulls out his chair to sit, a smile hooked at one corner of his mouth, but absolutely nothing about the rest of him says amusement.

(Slytherins don't have friends, and Zabini doesn't seem to know how to have friends, but Nott's probably the closest to one that his disposition will ever allow.)

Hadrian looks from Nott to Zabini and back, and then he asks, "Who was that boy? The one surrounded by that group by the fireplace."

The one who'd fired the spell. Don't think just because a bunch of students were arranged in front of him that Hadrian had missed the way his arm had moved, the jab of a wand, the blossom of light at its tip before the curse had flown across the room. Did they think he was blind?

Nott blinks up at him, features still pinched. It's Zabini who answers, soft as silk, "Malcolm Avery, seventh-year."

Hadrian takes a moment to digest that, to press that face into his memory before filing it away for later. He focuses on his roommates again instead and presses on, "Has this sort of thing happened before?"

Because even if they're spending time with him, Nott's an old pureblood name, isn't it? And Zabini is Zabini, and everybody's heard of his mother. Even if they're shunned a bit, jeered at a bit, even hexed a bit, any serious assaults should only be aimed at Hadrian, right?

Well, apparently not. That curse earlier had been a much Darker cousin of the Bone-Vanishing Spell, a variation on the more public-friendly Bone-Breaking Curse. If Hadrian hadn't seen it coming, if he hadn't stopped Nott in time, that thing would've not only shattered the left half of Nott's ribcage but also stabbed the resulting fragments directly into the nearest organs before dissolving into the bloodstream as a lethal poison— in this case, it would've been the heart and a lung. Nott would've been dead in under a minute, drowning in his own blood in extreme pain, and it's a tossup if even Hadrian would've been able to save him.

Zabini - unsurprisingly - shakes his head. For all that he doesn't have an old bloodline to rooted in Britain, he still has enough family clout to grant him a strong backing. And that's not counting his own means of protecting himself. Hadrian had actually gotten the feeling very early on, from the moment they'd had their first conversation, and he'd only been proven right as they'd gotten to know each other a little better— Zabini has all the best traits of a quintessential Slytherin. And thereby also all of the worst. Magic-wise, Hadrian can overpower him in a second, but that's why Zabini knows not to make an enemy of him, knows how to bend and stretch and profit while he's at it. He doesn't need anyone to protect him.

Nott on the other hand doesn't reply right away, and when he does, it's an evasive, "Spells like that would be an instant expulsion from Hogwarts, especially coming from a Slytherin, and from a seventh-year, they'd go straight to Azkaban. There are portraits all over the school. I'm not stupid enough to wander into places where there aren't any."

Hadrian aims a flat look at him. "That's not what I asked."

Nott purses his lips and stares at his lap. Hadrian waits him out.

"…They've tried cornering me," Nott finally admits, grudgingly, almost resentfully. "There's no avoiding a couple areas with no portraits. But they never used a curse this Dark before, and I've always been able to slip away."

Hadrian swallows the first three things he wants to say, to shout, because at his core, he likes to think he has a long fuse, but when someone crosses his line in the sand, his temper has always been explosive and violent, which won't help here.

Besides, hadn't he more or less told these two to handle the consequences of letting him tutor them on their own? Even if they weren't Slytherins and actually had the mind to reach out for help, they probably wouldn't have come to him after what he'd said, so he has no one to blame but himself and the fact that he'd underestimated just how deep some Slytherins' senseless hatred runs.

So he breathes through his first instinct, his second, his third, and then he pushes off the desk he'd been leaning on in favour of pulling out parchment and ink and the appropriate books.

"Alright, come here," He beckons, spreading everything out on his desk. "I'm gonna teach you a Fourfold Rebounder Ward so you can wear it on you from now on. The variation I'm thinking of has a chameleon element, so it'll be both strong enough to deflect a curse on the level of the one from earlier and also camouflage it when it's bounced back at whoever attacked you. It's based off of intent too, so it won't act up in a scuffle or a practice duel or something, the other person has to really want to harm you with deadly intent, so keep your guard up for other stuff, and honestly, this should just be for emergencies, you should still try to dodge it because it's not good to grow overly dependent on stuff like this. I'm confident the runes won't fail when I'm the one making it but your reflexes will get rusty if you get lazy. It's a bit- okay, a lot more difficult than anything you're learning right now, but I'll do most of the work, you just watch and provide the magic at the end, and once your foundation is a bit more stable and we can move ahead to more interesting things, I'll come back to this first so you'll be able to learn how to do this yourselves one day."

A long silence follows. Hadrian looks up. Neither of his roommates has moved. "What's wrong?"

Another few seconds tick by. It's Zabini who gets up first, an odd smile on his face, one that Hadrian's never seen before. But all he says is, "Nothing's wrong. I was just hoping if we waited a bit, Malfoy will get back in time to see what we're doing and finally keel over from high blood pressure."

Hadrian snorts with laughter. "Get over here. If that really happened, we'd be the ones who'd have to waste time carrying him up to the Hospital Wing."

Zabini's expression says that that wouldn't be his problem but he only smirks and saunters over to Hadrian's desk with his chair. When they both turn to look, Nott is already on his feet as well. He doesn't say anything, but he looks steadier, and he's watching Hadrian with a strange gleam in his eyes that makes them look almost feverish.

They settle down around him, eager - by Slytherin standards - to learn in a way that reminds Hadrian exactly why he likes to teach.

He gets to work, explaining each step even though he knows most of it is going over their heads. That's fine though; for now, these wards just need to protect them properly, and in the future, he'll teach them how to protect themselves.

-0-

Of course, things aren't over just like that, because Hadrian's temper is an explosive and violent beast, and the only things that's changed from when he was still a teenager is the fact that he's gotten a lot sneakier about it as an adult.

They aren't friends. But Nott and Zabini are his roommates and his students and kids that he's starting to genuinely care about, and nobody gets to walk away scot-free after fucking with the people under Hadrian's care so long as he's still alive to do something about it.

Malcolm Avery is seventeen anyway. That's an adult by any magical community's measure, which means Hadrian doesn't have to hold back.

It takes a week. A week of slipping out after curfew and eavesdropping on conversations, of finding out what the seventh-year's next practical Potions class will be working on and scanning all of Avery's belongings to see what Dark spells he's been mucking about with, and finally of filching Avery's cauldron for an afternoon while he's in class and replacing it before he returns to his dorm.

When it happens, Hadrian isn't even in school. Even if he were, it wouldn't matter because he'd made sure to time everything just right, and all the fourth-years - and most of the rest of the student body too - are already in the Great Hall waiting for lunch to be served. Seventh-year Potions is in the morning block, and Avery always goes overtime when there's a practical.

Hadrian isn't even in school, sitting his Ancient Runes exams at the Ministry all day instead, but he certainly hears all about it when he gets back that evening.

A few minutes before noon, a silver doe Patronus comes bounding up from the dungeons with an urgent summons for Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. Nobody hears what is said, but the three staff members rush off even as the food begins to appear, and nobody hears from them again until half an hour later when whispers start going around about Healers from St. Mungo's being called and one Malcolm Avery being carried out the front doors on a stretcher because his condition is too unstable to be transported through the Floo. The professors don't really tell them anything except that there was a Potions accident, but - as these things do because the rumour mill at Hogwarts is healthier than ever, and there'd still been a few other seventh-years in class with Avery at the time - everyone more or less knows what happened anyway by the time afternoon classes start. Potions is cancelled for the rest of the day, because no one else was injured but Snape was too busy furiously documenting what had happened after running multiple diagnostic spells over the remains of Avery's cauldron to teach. Also, he has to submit said documentation and a Pensieve memory to the Aurors investigating the accident, which doesn't exactly say great things about his mood, so nobody's unhappy about being able to give Potions a miss.

Apparently, Avery had been using his cauldron to make other potions - banned potions - in his dorm room. His roommates had been willing enough to keep mum and even give him a hand, and the book he'd been learning from had been found in his trunk. Thankfully, he hadn't managed to make anything too terrible yet, and his failed attempts hadn't managed to kill anyone, but he also hadn't cleaned his cauldron properly, and so there'd been a mess of residue potion and Dark magic clinging to the metal. Coincidentally, it had ended up reacting quite badly to the potion that the seventh-years were to work on that day, and the end result was a magnificent explosion that Snape had barely managed to protect himself and the other students from in the nick of time. There'd been no helping Avery who'd been standing right next to the unholy concoction.

In the aftermath, the explosion had caused bad enough burns to disfigure Avery, but time and Healers would fix most if not all of that. Far more serious had been the potion damage to his body— the liquid had seeped right through his skin and disintegrated the majority of his left ribcage, and then it had gone on to chew even further, straight into his heart and left lung, an insidious venom that had dissolved into his bloodstream and sent him into convulsions that had wrung scream after agonized scream out of him until Pomfrey had deemed it safe enough to knock him out, although even then, his body wouldn't stop seizing from the pain.

He'd still been alive when he'd been rushed out of the castle. Word has it that he's still alive now in St. Mungo's, except the Healers have no idea how to even begin treating him. Mixing multiple failed attempts at Dark potions, most of which even Avery's own roommates couldn't list all the names of or in which order he'd made them, together with one N.E.W.T.-level potion but in an explosion that had caused the maximum amount of entropy in the magic imbued into it— Merlin himself wouldn't be able to fix it with just a wave of his wand.

By dinnertime, everybody is talking about it, and the professors have given up trying to stop them.

(In truth, the outcome probably wouldn't have been quite so serious if Hadrian hadn't added a spell to amplify the toxicity and volatility of the residue in the cauldron, as well as several looping single-use runes to hide the volcanic buildup and also bind the whole thing to Avery alone so that it wouldn't have hurt anyone else even if Snape hadn't reacted in time. Without Hadrian's interference, it would've still exploded sooner or later, but Snape might've seen the danger signs in time to evacuate everyone from the classroom, and even if he didn't, the effects of the potion on Avery probably wouldn't have been so terrible.

But then, that wouldn't have been enough. After all, lessons like these should stick.

Avery will live, but he sure won't enjoy it.)

It's almost ten by the time Hadrian gets back to the Slytherin Dungeon. Snape drops him off at the entrance before sweeping off to his own office in a dramatic billow of irritably flapping robes. He'd been at the Ministry for half the day just to piece together what had happened for them, but as Hadrian had ensured, the Potions master had been cleared of any negligence in the matter. The potion had very obviously shown no signs of exploding - three other experts had verified - and students are expected to take care of their own cauldrons from third-year onwards without the professor having to do weekly checks. Snape had been released by dinnertime, but he'd apparently decided to simply eat in the Ministry cafeteria and return with his student and Babbling, so here they are.

Except-

Just before Snape makes to leave, he turns and pins Hadrian with a long appraising look, clinical and penetrating. Hadrian stares back serenely, and maybe the fact that his mind is a steel trap wrapped around a battlefield would be highly suspect to anyone looking in, but he also doesn't feel so much as a brush of Legilimency from Snape whatsoever. The professor really is just looking at him.

It's a strange new world.

In the end, Snape doesn't say anything before walking off, and Hadrian is left to blink after him before letting himself into the common room.

Everything goes eerily silent the moment everyone realizes he's back. Even if he hadn't said anything, someone - let's be real, it's Malfoy - had spread the news of Hadrian taking his Ancient Runes exams early, so pretty much everyone had known where he'd gone today. It was never a secret though so Hadrian hadn't cared, except when he steps into the room, it's very obvious that everybody is focused on him, and just as obvious that nobody is willing to make eye-contact with him.

The younger students should've already retired for the night. At least everybody still in the common room, studying or playing chess or chatting with each other like any standard evening, are fifth-years and up, so most of these students had probably known - or had been told after the fact - exactly what that curse would've done to Theo Nott that day, and exactly who had been the one to attack him.

And everybody knows what had happened to Avery today. More specifically, they know that what had happened to him today had been an almost perfect mirror of what he'd wanted to do to Nott one week ago. Nobody here believes in coincidences, and there's only so many people who would've had the motivation to orchestrate the entire accident down to the smallest detail.

Most of them have known Nott and Zabini for at least a few years. Perhaps they're not on speaking terms, but they'd still been Housemates for a while. Something like this isn't really Nott's style, and while it is Zabini's, neither of them has the ability.

The only real unknown is Hadrian Evans, and if they still can't put the pieces together at this point, they might as well sell their brains.

The area by the fireplace, normally always occupied by Avery's group at this time, is empty today. Avery's at St. Mungo's, his roommates are in overnight lockup at the Ministry, and any who aren't but were part of Avery's faction are probably hiding up in their rooms. Nobody else has taken their seats, not even the students who usually do when Avery hasn't claimed it for the day.

Hadrian walks towards the doorway leading to the boys' dormitory, and no one stops him. It feels like the entire room is holding their breaths. Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves until Hadrian is out of earshot.

The dorm is likewise very quiet when Hadrian enters. Malfoy's bed curtains are already drawn, as are Crabbe's and Goyle's, but Zabini's are open, and he's lazing against the headboard with a book in his hands while Nott is still at his desk doing homework.

They both look up as soon as the door swings open. Zabini stays on his bed but Nott even stands up as Hadrian shuts the door behind him. His whole frame is tense with a restless sort of energy, and he's staring at Hadrian with shining eyes. They both are, although in different ways. Zabini looks equal parts ecstatic and hungry, while Nott just looks the kind of deeply confused and deeply grateful that makes Hadrian want to set fire to someone, preferably whoever stitched this very expression into Nott's range of emotions out of the pieces they'd torn from him.

Nobody says anything right away. Hadrian squints at them as he makes his way to his own bed, feeling vaguely perturbed, because he hadn't truly expected them to not connect what happened to Avery back to him, but he hadn't thought they would be so fixated on it either. Maybe a roundabout tactful thank-you from Nott, an offer of a favour at most. But not… this, whatever this is.

He laments the fact that these two aren't more stupid when it comes to this sort of thing. Ron would be oblivious. Hermione would be determinedly oblivious. Neville… would actually react a bit like Nott, Ginny would react a lot like Zabini, Luna wouldn't react at all but she'd be extra cuddly for a few days, and gods, Hadrian needs saner friends.

Not that these two are friends of course.

He manages to get through a shower, brush his teeth, and climb into a bed before Nott is suddenly at his side, eyes still shining with something Hadrian really doesn't want to put a name to. Thankfully, he doesn't burst into any heartfelt speeches that would probably embarrass everyone within hearing range. Not so thankfully, he honest-to-fucking-Merlin bows, all archaic and meaningful in every way Hadrian has never learned and so doesn't understand, but even he can sense the weight and deference behind every word as Nott murmurs, "All of mine is yours, until the end of days. I would be honoured if you would call me Theo."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Hadrian mutters, because sometimes wizarding swears just don't have enough oomph to encompass the never-ending circus trainwreck that is his life. He scrubs a hand over his face, peeks at Nott - at Theo - who's still halfway bent over, and of course, it's just his luck that he has no idea how to respond in the proper pureblood way.

He would've preferred the heartfelt speech.

"I'm a halfblood, I don't know how to respond appropriately," He says bluntly because he doesn't know what else to do. But he also flicks a Silencing Ward at Malfoy's bed, then at Crabbe's and Goyle's as well because you can never be too careful, and then he leans over and hauls Theo upright and catches his gaze and holds it, "I'll call you Theo if you call me Hadrian. One day, you'll be strong enough to take care of your enemies on your own, and you won't need anyone else to do it for you if you don't want them to, but until then, if all of you is mine, then your enemies are too, so I'll deal with them if it turns out that they still haven't learned after today. That makes us allies from now on though, which means we're equals, and that means you never, ever bow to anyone again. Not me, and not anybody else either. Understand?"

Theo stares again, wide-eyed and lost and so terribly young, and sometimes, Hadrian wonders what it says about just how messed up the world is when broken kids can be bought so easily.

Finally, almost dazedly, Theo gives some semblance of a nod.

"Hadrian," He says, and something about him straightens, grows steel, settles.

"Hadrian," He repeats and dips his head, not a bow, but respectful all the same, and his eyes are still bright with that unnamed creature, but at least he looks at Hadrian head-on. "Thank you. Goodnight."

Hadrian sighs and figures that this is about the best he's going to get tonight. Maybe it'll dial back to normal in a few days. "Goodnight, Theo."

Theo smiles, tiny, crooked, a little awkward. It's the first one Hadrian has ever seen from him, and that at least he can't be upset about.

They can finally go to sleep though. Theo returns to his own bed, Zabini is still watching them both from his bed like they're his new favourite show, and Hadrian resolutely pretends he doesn't see anything else as he takes down the Silencing Wards before drawing his curtains, rolling over, and promptly making a sincere attempt at smothering himself with a pillow.

His life.

-0-0-0-

End Notes: Ok wow so this got hella long and I didn't really get to all the stuff anon wanted whoops. Theo just… wouldn't stop thinking lmao, and also this AU has the potential to get so big so I ended up cramming in worldbuilding wherever I could. So unfortunately all you get is sort of a starting snapshot of where this is going and how Hadrian is going to turn out and a shitload of Theo's character. I kind of wanted to do him and Blaise's POV but I could only fit Theo, and I feel like getting Blaise through Theo's POV actually added to his character just as much as a personal POV would've. Anyway, those two are basically blank slates in canon so ofc I would pick them to write lolol.

#headcanon meme: answered #HP series #c'est la vie #hadrian evans #theo nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #headcanon #slytherin hadrian au

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stitched-mouth · 1 year

Text

Teenagers: Young, Naive & Horny

Fandom: Harry Potter.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Fem! Reader.

Format: Short Fic.

Type: Fluff with hint of nsfw.

Word Count: Idk.

Writing Time: 2 hours.

Warning(s): Hint of nsfw (but not that deep).

Summary: Draco gets a little too excited when dancing with you at the Yule Ball.

A/N:

I wrote this just to get back into writing. I’m sorry for being away for so long. Also I’m suddenly really into Draco Malfoy again.

I do have ideas for a part two but I only plan on writing something if you guys want it. Part two would likely be a smut, but I’m not sure yet.

THIS IS SET DURING THE YULE BALL (which is the Goblet of Fire I think)

Draco huffed as he stared at you. Even after quick looks every 5 minutes you still hadn’t noticed the boy staring at you from across the room.

Honestly how dare you not notice, Draco thought, you really couldn’t possibly not notice him staring whilst wearing that gown.

The gown you had picked out for the Yule ball was given to you by your grandmother who claimed it had good luck written on it as it was the same dress that caught your grandfather’s attention and made him ask her for a dance all those years ago.

Now it was your turn to be asked for a dance.

But you didn’t even know. Not when you was stuffing your face with chocolate and other sweets from the dessert table. Draco was starting to feel envious of the desserts as you seemed way more interested in them.

He finally decided to stop waiting for you to notice him (because you never was going to) and go up to you himself.

On the way towards you he was stopped by Pansy, but he walked passed her not even given her a lot. Draco knew that would cost him later (Pansy wouldn’t shut up about it tomorrow) but he didn’t really care right now.

As the platinum haired boy walked towards you he thought about what he was actually doing. He was going to ask a Hufflepuff to dance. Was he out of his mind? His father would certainly think so. The Hufflepuff girl was a known supporter and helper of the Golden trio.

You didn’t really hang out with them but they knew well and they knew you, and the four of you was on good terms. Say if they needed someone to keep watch for them while they were up to something, or a spell idea or really any help you were always to first to offer them a hand. A bit like Neville or Luna.

And boy, did Malfoy hate it. But he couldn’t help his attraction to you. He always found you fascinating and now he had to do something about it.

When he finally reached you, you looked up at him confused with your mouth full.

“Can I help you?” You asked, your sentence hard to understand due to the food in your mouth.

“Um…” Draco’s mind suddenly went blank and he became nervous. It was like he hadn’t planned this far ahead.

The silence wasn’t necessary awkward but it had definitely lasted too long for both of your liking.

“Nothing to say Malfoy? Ok..” You turned back to the sweets table.

“No! Um..would you like to dance?” Draco finally asked.

“You, the Slytherin Prince, want a dance with me?” You looked at him with a suspicious look.

“Yes.” Draco nodded and stuck out his hand.

You should be flattered Hufflepuff, Draco thought.

You stared at him for a few more seconds with your untrusting look. On the inside, you were feeling shocked and very flattered but you couldn’t let Malfoy know that. But you were still unsure.

Eventually you accepted his hand, “Ok…”

Draco pulled your up and lead you to the dance floor. On the way you made eye contact with the Golden trio and a few fellow Hufflepuffs, who all looked shocked and slightly betrayed as you passed them. You felt guilty for a second but quickly decided not you. You’d explain it to them later. They’d understand.

Draco found a spot on the dance floor and turned to face you. He awkwardly placed his hands on your waist, a bit too high up for your liking (it wasn’t really your waist, more like your middle) but you figured he was trying to be sensible or polite. You placed your hands on his shoulder and the two of you slowly began to sway.

You stared at each other intimately while both your bodies moved stiffly and nervously. You wished your body would moved the way you wanted it to. Draco did too, about his own body.

But alas you were both awkward teenagers who didn’t speak often or really like each other.

It made you wonder why you agreed to this dance. Maybe you were just like the other girls and couldn’t say no to Draco Malfoy? You really hoped you.

“Hey Draco?” You spoke up.

Draco was shocked to hear you fill the silence, “Yes?”

“You can…” You moved his hands lower down onto your hips, “See? That’s better.”

Draco felt his face heat up, “Oh ok.”

You continued swaying together. Draco prayed you couldn’t see his flushed face but unfortunately for him, you were right in front of him and the dim lighting wasn’t that fun at all. You could see the blush on his naturally pale face. It made you smile.

Towards the end of the song you noticed Hagrid and his new lover. Hagrid’s head was on her chest as they moved together and the two were clearly very happy together. So you stepped forward and laid your head on Draco’s chest and wrapped your arms around his middle. You didn’t realise how much taller he was until you did this.

Draco was shocked you had made such a move. So shocked it took a good 30 seconds for him to hold onto you back. If his face got get redder, it would. You hummed quietly as you continue moving together.

The boy looked down at you and suddenly felt emended fear. His pants got tight and he suddenly couldn’t moved. He prayed you wouldn’t look down or feel anything poking into you.

You looked up at Malfoy when he stopped moving, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing..I.. I just have to go.”

He suddenly let go of you and ran out of the Ballroom. You blinked shocked and felt a strong sadness.

What was that? He just left you on the dance floor, after asking YOU to dance.

You were heartbroken. You had no clue why he had just left you or that you had excited the poor boy too much.

Onlookers who knew EXACTLY why Draco had disappeared, felt sorry for the both of you. They all thought the same:

Teenager. Young, naive and horny.

It was a pity really, you thought as you felt your crotch burn, you was really enjoying that dance.

#stitched #stitched writes #stitched talks #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff reader #yule ball #harry potter and the goblet of fire

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