DESIRE (M) — PART ONE
he wants you. you want jeno. desire is a jealous little thing, isn't it y/n?
PAIRING. slytherin!haechan x hufflepuff!reader ft. gryffindor!jeno
WC. 12.1k
GENRE. harry potter au!, smut
WARNINGS. cursing, drinking, depictions of breaking a bone, solo male smut, haechan is sort of a perv in one (1) scene, oral male receiving, just really sloppy head <3, haechan does fuck someone in detail and he's mean abt it, but it's not y/n (oops spoiler of sorts), blonde!haechan, he's not a good person, so don't expect him to be. he's a big ole meanie with a longtime crush on reader.
A.N. this has been in the drafts for like three years. i want it out, so i'm splitting it into two parts :)
The Mirror of Erised - The mirror shows the most desperate desire of a person's heart, a vision that has been known to drive men mad.
He loves you.
But he fucking hates it.
First year he was holding hands with you, sitting next to your huddled body on the train, and later sharing a meal in the great hall. Second year he saw you clinging onto him as he flew you over the quidditch field. Third year he watched the both of you sneak out to explore the restricted section in the library and run around the castle late at night. Fourth year he saw you in a beautiful dress as he took you to the yule ball. Fifth year he was kissing you on the astronomy tower. Sixth year you went down on him, and all he could do was watch and pretend that his hand was your mouth.
Now it’s seventh year.
Though the actions changed, it was always you he saw in the mirror, and he fucking hated it. Ever since first year, when all he knew was that you were cute and funny, there you were, taunting and teasing him in that godforsaken mirror.
And yet, he always comes back to sit and watch.
Just like tonight.
The train only arrived an hour ago, but instead of filing into the great hall to see which house the first years would be sorted into, he’s sitting on the floor in the room of requirement, back against a dusty chest of drawers, and eyes narrowed down to slits as he watches the scene unfold in the mirror before him.
It always starts with you appearing out of thin air. You’re wearing your house colors – a small grey skirt, barely covering the swell of your ass and a yellow button up. You’re rid of the required tie, but only for a second, only until Haechan shows up to stand behind you in the mirror with it stretched between his fists.
He shifts in his place on the ground. It wasn’t real, but lord have mercy, he wished it were.
In the mirror he watches himself loop the tie around your wrists, which were set behind your back. You were so beautiful, smiling up at him with those luminous eyes, and your lips parted in a sinful smile.
Under his robes, his hand inches across the flat of his stomach, towards the growing bulge in his pants. It was becoming hotter in the room, almost stifling, but if someone were to come in, he couldn’t be caught half naked. He’d have to get by fully clothed.
God, he despised the way you made him feel; so desperate for any sort of friction, anything to help relieve himself of the aching lust he felt in the pit of his stomach.
When his reflection is done tying your wrists together, a desk appears. He recognizes it as the one from potions class. His mouth drops open in an O as he watches himself back you up, so you were sandwiched between the desk and his broad chest.
His hand disappears under your skirt, and he could only imagine what his reflection was doing. Could only imagine how good you probably felt clenching around his fingers, gasping at his touch. Feeling pleasure because of him.
Your body arches against his, head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. He watches his lips move against your ear, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Biggest fucking curse of the century.
Stupid mirror should come with speakers, he thinks.
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his composure, skin slick with sweat, and hands buzzing with the temptation to touch himself.
Fuck you, y/l/n
He watches as his mirror persona spins you around and pushes you flat against the desk, yanking your skirt up around your waist to bare your glistening pussy.
It’s never been this explicit, and he can’t help himself. Tentative fingers wrap around his cock. He throws his head back and hisses between his teeth; it felt too fucking good. His eyes snap open. There was no way he was going to miss the rest of the show, not when it was just getting good.
In the mirror, his cock replaces his fingers. He watches himself inch his way into you slowly. Watches your mouth loll open, eyes glazed over. You were already fucked out and he had barely started.
Haechans hands stroke himself under his robes as he watches the scene in front of him. He was having a hard time keeping his hips still, bucking up into his fist. He softly groans to himself when he sees his reflection grab your tied hands and pull back, fucking himself into you faster.
It was so unfair, so embarrassing, that he had to resort to getting off in front of a mirror displaying his deepest fantasy. It was so unfair that it was always you.
So Haechan sits there, watching the mirrored version of himself completely ruin you, while trying to pretend that his hand is your dripping cunt. He sits there thinking of all the things he would do to you if you would give him the time of day.
Fuck you y/n.
The first years had already been sorted by the time he arrived. In fact, dinner was almost over.
He makes his way to the Slytherin table where his friends were loudly joking. Renjun was the first to notice when he sat down and slides him a half-eaten piece of pie.
“Where were you?”
Through a mouthful of blueberry pie, Haechan acknowledges him, “I had to take care of some things.”
He shuts the discussion down quick. No need for them to know he shoved in a dusty room with his cock in his fist, and his mind full of you.
Speaking of which...
His eyes scan the great hall till he sees you sitting with your roommates, Jihyo and Mina. He almost chokes on the next bite when he realizes you were wearing the same outfit you had on in the mirror.
“Fucking hell man, don’t die,” Chenle slides him a glass of water, “We thought we were gonna have to sneak you some food back to the dorms.”
He gulps down the water and taps the glass with his ring clad pointer finger, automatically refilling it. The silver metal makes a tink sound against the glass. “Well, like I said, I had some things to take care of.”
Why the fuck did his friends have to be so damn nosy. A guy couldn't disappear for an hour?
“And was Y/N one of those things?” Chenle snorts.
The rest of the table bursts into laughter, louder than the entire great hall combined, and it makes you peek your head in their direction. Haechan drops his gaze away from you, grabs a stray spoon and chucks it at Chenle, hitting him square in the chest, “Shut up.”
“Dude, we all know you've been sweet on her since, what, first year?” Renjun snickers.
Chenle wipes the gunk that splattered off the spoon from his robes, ‘Yeah, we’re not blind man. I mean, she might be, but not us.”
"Sweet on her? What the fuck is this Renjun, the nineteen-fifties?" Haechan doesn't do anything but scowl. He hates how his friends knew. Hell, pretty much all Slytherins that knew him, knew.
His eyes flick up and catch yours. A soft smile forms on your lips, and he returns it. He hand twitched up for a wave, but Jeno, the infamous Gryffindor Seeker, sits beside you and steals your attention away.
“Ah look, now you’re too late.”
“Could’ve had a chance dude.”
Haechan turns to his friends and gives them a death stare, “Next word out of you guys and I’m gonna stuff the rest of this pie down your fucking throats.”
With a roll of their eyes, they turn their heads and start to talk amongst themselves about the new school year. Haechan can’t immerse himself in such conversation. His attention is pointed solely on you and the kiss ass that was Lee Jeno.
One of his arms sat slung around your shoulders, his face dangerously close to yours, but for some reason, you weren’t pushing him away, you were laughing.
Why weren’t you pushing him away?
Something in Haechan snaps when he watches Jeno lean his forehead against yours, both of you sharing wide smiles. It’s as if his heart was set on fire, the heat threading itself through his body and taking home in his hands. Oh, how he wanted to go punch that smile right off of Jeno’s lips. Smash his fist in his face and leave a nice mark, bloody broken gums bleeding.
Bet he wouldn’t smile at you then.
Haechan knows it’s insane. He does, but he quite honestly doesn’t give a single broom-flying fuck.
With determination, Haechan stood, pushing his chair back, and ignoring the calls from his friends. Everybody he walks past is enjoying their first-day-back meals, but Haechan has something else on his mind.
He walks by your table, hearing the pretty lilt of your voice chatting away with your friends as Jeno hangs off your side. Haechan’s tongue pokes his cheek in jealousy, but he walks right past without a word, no matter how much his brain is screaming at him to just hit Jeno.
Making it to the doors that seal off the great hall from the main corridor, he draws his wand out from his robes and flicks his wrist.
“Aguamenti”
A jet of clear water shoots out from the tip of his wand and smacks the side of Jenos head, effectively drenching him from head to toe.
Haechan stays for a split second, just to watch you and your friends erupt in a fit of giggles while Jeno picks at his wet robes.
He smiles triumphantly before slipping out into the hallway and sprinting to the Slytherin dormitory.
Haechan 1, Jeno 0
The first night back at Hogwarts; The first night back home.
You and your dormmates lounge in the common room and stare into the fire whilst making small talk. It had been a while since seeing them, but you had kept in touch out in the muggle world.
Jihyo hung her head over the arm of the couch, the rest of her body sprawled out and cozily covered with a blanket, attempting to toss popcorn in the air and catch it in her mouth. Her success rate, however, left the floor scattered with smashed pieces and kernels.
Mina sat on the end of the couch with Jihyo's feet in her lap, occasionally contributing to the conversation but mostly engrossed in her textbooks. It wasn't even the first day of actual classes, yet here she was, staying ahead. If you didn't know her kind nature, you'd think she belonged in Ravenclaw.
You were slung in the other chair opposite of them, fiddling with your wand. The end was slightly cracked from where you had accidentally stepped on it one day and it was worrying you. The last thing you needed right now was another trip to Olivanders.
“I’m just saying Y/N, I think Jeno really does like you!” Jihyo insisted, throwing another piece of popcorn in the air only to get hit in the face with it seconds later.
Mina snorts without looking up and Jihyo makes a face at her that she doesn’t see but leaves you giggling. You twist your wand around your fingers, something you learned back in second year, “Well if he does, he hasn’t said anything.”
Mina hums in agreement but Jihyo thinks differently, “He wouldn’t have offered to take you broom flying after hours if he didn’t like you.”
Shrugging your shoulders you turn to the fire, the burning warmth spreading over your chest. “Maybe he just wants some pussy.”
“Well, you better take the chance before I do. He can show me his broomstick anytime.” She winks in your direction sending you into a giggle fit. Mina rolls her eyes but continues reading her textbook. The both of you were used to Jihyos sexual jokes, but they never failed to make you laugh and Mina cringe.
A brief silence passed before you spoke, “Okay, but you have to agree, whoever splashed him at dinner tonight has it coming.”
“What do you mean whoever it was?” Mina piped up, giving you an inquisitive look.
“I didn’t see who it was, did y’all?” you asked, mildly confused. The water had seemingly come out of nowhere, and everyone around Jeno had denied responsibility. With everyone denying it, you suspected it might have been one of the lingering spirits.
“Are you kidding me, Y/N? He couldn’t have been any more obvious,” Jihyo said incredulously, sitting up to look straight at you, abandoning her bag of popcorn.
Were you supposed to have known who the culprit was? You were too busy watching Jeno splutter and gasp to have paid much attention to your surroundings. One thing she said caught your attention, “He?”
“Haechan? Lee Donghyuck?” Mina says slowly.
Jihyo chimed in, “He was walking toward our table all angry, and then when he made it to the doors, he turned around and used the Aguamenti spell.” Your mouth dropped open with every word she said, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?!”
“I didn’t!” you argue defensively.
“Oh, and before that, he was staring at you.” Mina added, closing her textbook and standing up, dumping Jihyo's feet on the ground.
“I knew he was staring.” You say, chewing on your bottom lip, “Are you guys for sure he was the one?”
“I’m telling you,” Jihyo starts, “We both saw him.”
Emotions bubble in your chest. You were pissed off for sure. Who did Haechan think he was getting in your business like that, especially given the history, or lack thereof.
Ever since you met the Slytherin boy, he had despised you. There was something about you that completely irritated him, and no matter how hard you tried, he just wouldn’t be your friend. He wouldn’t even talk to you, only stare and mess with your relationships. Every time you were getting close with a boy, he would get in the way, first with Mark and now Jeno? This was becoming an issue, and one that you needed to correct soon.
“I’m heading to bed.” Mina says, waving goodbye and heading off to her room.
You and Jihyo are left to stare at each other. She narrows her eyes down to slits, “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I’m not,” you spun the wand faster around your fingers, twisting and spinning it until it dropped into your palm, “I’m just going to remind him who the hell I am.”
“That’s not very Hufflepuff of you.” she giggles, reaching for more popcorn and shoving it in her mouth.
Your grip your wand tightly, “Hufflepuff or not, Lee Donghyuck needs to learn who he’s fucking with.”
As you pondered your next move, Jihyo leaned back and said, "You know, a well-placed hex might jog his memory."
"No. Not a hex. He get's one warning. His only warning."
Haechan knew you were after him.
The past couple days consisted of him dodging your every attempt at waving him down. After classes dismissed, he was up and out the door in the blink of an eye, he never showed his face at the great hall, and when you caught sight of him during his quidditch practice, he disappeared while everyone else headed to the locker rooms.
Three days after the water incident, you catch him.
The professor asked him to stay back after class, supposedly to discuss his recent test scores. So, when the bell rang, you lingered outside the classroom door. A couple of minutes later, Haechan emerged, his blonde hair paired with a scowl etched onto his face. He made a beeline in the opposite direction, but you had other plans.
“Lee Donghyuck!” you shout, attracting stares from the other students milling about the corridor. You scurry over to him and tug his arm, his eyes shooting down to where you made contact “We need to talk.”
He glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and cleared his throat. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The threats you had rehearsed - the biting warnings you promised Jihyo you'd give him...they all catch in the back of your throat when you look up and make eye contact. It was almost condescending the way he looked down at you, without even saying anything, he made you feel small.
"I—um, I want you to leave me and Jeno alone," you managed to say, attempting confidence but knowing there was little force behind the words.
He knew it too.
His eyebrows shoot up, “I’m sorry darling, I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
Oh, how good he was at feigning innocence.
Too bad you knew he was a big fat fucking liar, “The whole Aguamenti spell you did the other night in the great hall? Yeah, I know it was you.”
His jaw clenches and he reaches for his wand to twirl around his finger – something he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit Haechan. Me and my friends saw you do it.”
As more people stared at the confrontation in the middle of the hallway, you considered finding a more private place, but you knew he wouldn't follow.
“What do you want me to say? I’m telling you I didn’t do it.” his voice is a low growl, his demeanor darkening and body slightly leaning towards your own. You wouldn’t be surprised if the next words out of his mouth were, ‘now get lost you little freak’.
Deciding to stand your ground, you stared up at him defiantly. However, instead of backing down, he laughed straight in your face, deflating any hope of setting him straight.
“Good one, Hufflepuff.” With a roll of his eyes, he palms his wand in thought. How could a girl like you go for a guy like Jeno? Didn’t you know he was an asshole?
Speak of the devil, he thinks.
A heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, accompanied by a sweet and cheery voice. "Y/N! Just the girl I needed to see." Jeno's crescent eyes and beaming smile were inches from yours.
Haechan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He needs to leave; He should leave, but his feet don’t move when he tries. It felt like he was under a spell.
Yeah, if jealousy was a fucking spell, the thought bitterly.
“I hope you don’t mind me talking to your girl.” Jeno acknowledges Haechan and playfully punches him in the shoulder. The older boy just sneers.
“Oh, I’m not his girl” you declared adamantly.
A derisive scoff rumbles in the depths of Haechan's throat, and a fit of coughing seizes him, forcing him to double over.
“Careful there buddy.” Jeno smirks, harshly slapping Haechan’s back as way to help him catch his breath.
When the older boy straightens up, a look of pure hatred crosses his eyes and you giggle, “I’m fine, buddy.”
Jeno looks from left to right confused at Haechan��s hostility, but shakes it off and turns to you instead, “I wanted to invite you to the Quidditch game tomorrow night.” A ‘no’ forms on your lips but Jeno is quick to shut it down, “Look… I’ll play better if you’re there. You can be my good luck charm!”
A fake gag sounds from the back of Haechans throat and you stare daggers into him until he throws two hands up and takes a step back.
You turned to Jeno with the intention of declining, citing the need for studying, but his trademark smile was plastered on his lips. Wasn't the point of this conversation with Haechan to be something with Jeno someday?
“I’ll go.” You smile, and Jeno's face lights up like a kid on Christmas.
One second, you were on the ground, and the next, you were in Jeno's strong arms, spinning around. "Yes! You won't regret this, Y/N! You can even wear my jersey if you want!"
He slows down and sets you back on your feet, your head slightly spinning, “Jeno… you do realize you’ll need your jersey on the field.”
“Oh right.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Didn’t think of that.”
Haechan makes an unamused snort, and you notice his hands are balled into fists at his side.
How could Jeno do that right in front of his face?
“I guess it’s the thought that counts.” Haechan spits, and turns on his heel, robes flying behind him as he hurriedly walks away.
“Wait! We still have to talk!” you shout after him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, just keeps walking until he rounds a corner and disappears.
Why did he have something against Jeno? He hated you anyways. Was his job to make you miserable your entire Hogwarts life? Why was he always in your business?
Jeno startles you out of your thoughts, “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”
A smile formed on your lips, and you murmured an 'okay' as Jeno looped your arm in his. Unfortunately, Haechan was long gone, along with any hope of setting him straight.
Hopefully he got the message, you think.
It’s the last thought of him before Jeno is tugging on your arm and walking you to class, the smell of cinnamon on his robes and his jovial tone taking home in your head and root in your heart.
He can’t stomach the sight of her face, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking her.
Who was she? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. She was wet enough and that was all that mattered. Thrusting into her sopping cunt was what she was here for, nothing more, nothing less.
His mind drifts while he pounds into her, the image of Jeno dragging you away, his arm slung over your shoulders driving Haechan to fuck harder. The girl hollers in pain but doesn’t tell him to stop, just grits her face and bears it, and he doesn’t check to see if she’s okay.
She said she wanted him to fuck her, so that’s what he was doing.
“Hy-hyuck.” She whimpers, fingers digging into his dark green sheets.
A harsh smack lands on her ass, “What, can’t take it Y/ -”
He stops himself before finishing your name. How stupid could he be. This wasn’t you; this could never be you.
Whoever the girl was, she doesn’t notice, too rung up on his cock pushing into her over and over again to understand that he didn’t give a single fuck about her.
Poor girl.
Her legs start to shake, an overwhelming orgasm washing over her right before Haechan pulls out and rolls off the bed, hastily putting on his pants. She’s left to catch her breath on his bed, peering at him from between parted fingers, “You didn’t finish.”
“Don’t need to.” He throws his sweater over his head and starts to fix his tie, “Here.” He picks her yellow robes off the floor and tosses them onto the bed next to her.
“Let me suck you off or something.”
His response is instantaneoous, “I’m good.”
Her voice is soft when she speaks up again, “It’s because of that girl isn’t it… the one in my house, Y/N?”
Was it obvious to everyone else but you? This random fucking girl knew, but you couldn’t catch on? Fucking ridiculous.
His eyes narrow down to slits, “I got to get to class. You better be gone when I get back.”
The door slams behind him, the echo being the only indication he was there in the first place.
Robes askew and papers flying out of your hands, you rush into potions class at the last possible second.
Jeno is already seated at your shared table, something that’s become normal these last few weeks. Out of the corner of your eye, you take note of Hyuck slumped over a piece of paper, furiously scribbling—probably homework.
Thankfully, the professor nods you off without issuing you a detention slip.
Slamming your books on the flat black table, you hop onto your stool.
“Thought you weren’t gonna show y/l/n” Jeno’s smile stretches from ear to ear, his fingers twirling a quill between them.
“I may not be a Ravenclaw, but I’d never miss a class.”
“Couldn’t bear to miss me?” His flirtatious comments always make your heart skip a beat. Your pulse becomes increasingly erratic, face flushed. A snort sounds from behind you, and when you swivel around, you see Haechan’s face adorned with a sneer. He doesn’t deserve a response from you, no matter how much you want to flip him off.
You turn back around, “I guess I couldn’t…” The blush on Jeno’s face is unmistakable and it warms your heart.
From the front of the room, the professor claps his hands, “Alright class, today we will be doing something I’m sure you’ve done before.”
“Please don’t say truth potion.” You mutter under your breath.
“Not quite, Ms. y/l/n. Today we’ll be brewing amortentia potions! All your ingredients should be in the back of the classroom, gather them and begin brewing! The instructions are on page 287 of your textbook! The first group to accurately brew their potion gets five points on the chapter quiz this week.”
The professor calling you out would be enough to send you into an embarrassed state of tucking your chin against your chest and keeping your head down for the rest of the class, but the mention of extra points on the quiz has you leaping up off the stool and waltzing to the back of the classroom.
Jeno doesn’t even have time to say anything. You’ve never done this potion before, but you know the ingredients by heart, just waiting for the day you get to brew it.
You make it to the ingredients table first, followed by Haechan, who’s furiously flipping through his textbook, trying to find the ingredient list. When he notices your empty hands, he narrows his eyes, “Don’t you need to know what to put in the potion?”
Grabbing various vials and jars of dried leaves, you snort, “Don’t need to. Jealous I know it by heart?”
His eyes slide to yours while he follows your lead and picks up a jar of blue rose petals, “Me? Jealous? Yeah right. That’ll be you when me and Chenle win the extra points.”
“Don’t count on it Hyuck.”
The nickname has him tensing, knuckles going white when he accidentally grips a vial of milky substance too hard. He puts it under his arm and reaches for another vial. Coincidentally, you were reaching for the same one, both of your hands brushing against each other's. Neither of you is hasty in withdrawing.
His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, nervousness flitting across his brow. Before you can make note, he clamps down, and his expression goes stoic again.
Heat pools in your stomach. A sickeningly sweet feeling that leaves you confused when Haechan plucks the vial away and whips around, his robes fluttering out behind his body.
Other students begin crowding the table, so you grab a different vial, the interaction leaving you all too confused.
When you get back to the table, Jeno has already begun heating the cauldron.
The ingredients spill from your hands.
“Have you ever done this before?” Jeno asks, “You didn’t even need the textbook.”
Your voice comes out mumbled, “No. I just know it by heart.”
His own textbook is splayed out in front of him, one finger rubbing down the page to read the ingredients list. Why don’t his hands make you feel like that? Sure, it makes you feel all cozy inside, but it isn’t… hot like that. There;s no heat when Jeno walks hand-in-hand with you in the hallway. Why?
“… petals.”
His voice peeks through your thoughts that were flitting around your skull at a million miles an hour.
“Huh?”
“Why did you grab blue rose petals? It doesn’t say we need them in the book.” He teeters on the edge of his seat as if he wanted to take them back to the ingredients table at the back of the room.
A smirk plays on the edge of your lips, “Haechan was copying what I was grabbing, so to trip him up, I grabbed those. Hopefully, he doesn’t pay close attention to the textbook like you…”
Jeno laughs, “Never would have struck you as the type Y/N.”
“What, too much of a Slytherin thing?” You bite back.
“No…No, I like it. It makes you… I don’t know… hot?”
Your eyes go wide, a laugh sticking in your throat. You cough it up and turn to the spread of ingredients in front of you, “Let's, uh… let’s start so we can get those extra credit points.”
Jeno turns around and so do you.
What you don’t notice is Haechan, who had become immensely interested in your conversation after hearing the word Slytherin leave your lips. The jealousy flickering through his nerves is hotter than the boiling substance in front of him. Oh, how he wishes this was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He’d love to put Jeno flat on his ass.
You and Jeno effortlessly master the brewing of amortentia in just twelve minutes, a symphony of perfectly blended scents swirling in your cauldron.
Chenle and Haechan shoot you annoyed glances as their potion turns into a goopy, blue disaster, nowhere close to the enchanting pink hue of yours.
The professor strides over, congratulating the two of you with a smile. He hands each of you golden slips of paper, designating you as the undisputed masters of amortentia potion-making.
Haechan stands with arms crossed, bitterness etched across his face as he joins the students gathered around your table. His jaw clenches when he witnesses Jeno pulling you into a snug side hug.
“Alright! As the first pair to get the potion right, you get the pleasure of telling us what you smell.
Fuck.
His jaw unclenches and instead is replaced by a shit-eating grin.
“W-What?”
Other students nervously chuckle, eager to see if Jeno, the star of Gryffindors quidditch team, would possibly smell their scent.
“I’ll go first y/n. Don’t sweat it.”
Carefully, Jeno leans over the cauldron and lets the steam waft up into his face. He takes a sniff. Another one. Another one. And finally a deep inhale.
“It’s smells like cherries… um, vanilla, I think… and, sweets? Like baked sweets?”
The professor applauds, “Good! Sounds like someone's after a Hufflepuff!”
All eyes turn to you. It's true, the Hufflepuff dormitory is adjacent to the kitchens, but why must everyone assume? Why must it be you?
The professor continues, “You next Y/N!”
Haechans doe eyes follow your figure closely, drinking in the way you lean over the cauldon, the top button on your blouse having come undone, breasts peaking through the top. He feels like a pervert, but he can’t help the stiffness rising in his slacks.
He should’ve had that girl suck him off.
You sniff one, twice, and a third time. Haechan watches as the blood drains from your face.
Why couldn’t it be cinnamon and firewood? Why not something to complement Jeno? It had to be that.
“I smell apples… and, and, um, caramel, and qu-quidditch gear.”
You don’t even have time to assess Jeno or Haechans faces. Jeno knew it was Haechan’s scent. Haechan knew it was his scent. Everyone knew. How could they not? Slytherins best asshole was known for smelling like caramel apples.
Fuck.
Your eyes are downcast, contemplating whether or not to do that chin tuck.
“Alright! Who’s next?”
“It’s not like it’s our house that’s playing.”
Slumped on the common room couch and stuffing your face with leftover popcorn (thanks Jihyo), your argument doesn’t come across as very convincing – to yourself, or Mina, who stands in front of you with her hands on her hips. “And anyways,” you raise a skeptical eyebrow, “Don’t you have to study or something. You’re not one for quidditch games.”
She reaches for you, snatching the snack bowl out of your hand and plopping it down on the coffee table. “I’m two weeks ahead in every single class. I can afford to skip a day of studying.”
For a moment, you shoot her a glare, sensing there's more to it. “Jihyo put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“Why do you say that.”
“Because I know her.”
“Okay, yes.” She sits down next to you, grabbing your hands. “But come on! Jeno invited you to watch the game and then go to the afterparty. You know how hard it is to get invited to those parties!” She drags out the last syllable, pretending to beg, “And Jihyo said she’d kill me if you bailed.”
You sigh. Jeno did invite you, and he had that killer smile on his lips when he did it. The reminder sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering about. The only reason you were planning to skip out was because you were nervous. And what happened in class yesterday. But that didn’t matter! Gryffindors seeker asking you to come watch him play, and then walking you to class? That made you more than friends, right? You didn’t know how to navigate that without being awkward… and you’d hate to disappoint him.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
Mina squeals next to you and pulls you into a hug. “You won’t regret this! But hurry up, I wanna see if I can spot Renjun before the game.” She smiles to herself, a light blush dusting her cheeks that she tries to conceal.
“Renjun… Isn’t that the boy you’re tutoring in potions?”
She hums in response, a dreamy expression so evident on her face you could almost make out hearts in her eyes. It's like a real-life cartoon.
“You have a crush on him!” you tease, giggling when she holds her arms out defensively and tries to deny it. “That’s why you’re going to the game today! Not because you don’t need to study, but because you wanna see Renjunnnnn.” You draw out his name like you used to do when you were first years.
“Don’t tell Jihyo.” She groans. “She’ll give me hell for it, and I want this to progress naturally on its own.”
“I won’t, I’m just shocked our Mina has a crush!”
You feel happy for your friend. Happy that she’s found somebody who could actually drag her away from being holed up on a Saturday afternoon – it's real progress.
“Enough about me! Go get ready!”
She throws a pillow at you when you leap off the couch, and it hits you square in the chest, both of you thrown into another fit of giggles.
The stands were so jam packed with students, you thought there was absolutely no way you were going to grab a seat.
That was until you spotted Jihyos yellow Hufflepuff cap sticking out in a sea of Gryffindor gear. It was against house rules to wear anything outside of your house colors, so while you wanted to wear red to support Jeno, the best you could do was the red handheld flags they were passing out at the gate to the field.
A first year Slytherin tried to hand you a green flag, but you upturn your nose and brush him aside. You didn’t hate all Slytherins, but you’d be damned if Haechan caught sight of you supporting his team, especially since it was him pitted against Jeno. It saddened you that he was a seeker like the boy you were there to support; he didn’t deserve the position.
Mina grabs your hand and drags you into the thick of the crowd where elbows jostled you every few seconds and your cheeks were being whipped with waving flags. You duck your head down and try not to trip, a sigh of relief rushing past your lips when you make it to where Jihyo is sitting front row, batting away a couple who were trying to sit in the seats she was keeping for the two of you.
“See!” She yells, gesturing wildly to the two of you walking up, “My friends are here, and these seats are now occupied!” She grabs your wrists and tugs you to sit down.
The couple rolls their eyes and move on to find another seat.
“Bitches.” Jihyo curses under her breath.
“Thanks for saving the seat.” You breathlessly laugh, adjusting your jacket so that you were bundled up. Hogwart winters weren’t for the faint of heart.
Jihyo smirks, “Had to fight off about half the Gryffindor population for this good of a view, but it was worth it.”
On the other side of Jihyo, Mina laughed and clapped her hands at the commotion on the field, right before every other student erupted in cheers, hoots, and hollers.
From your midfield position, you saw the Slytherin team filtering out on the green, brooms in hand.
“WELCOME ALL FACULTY AND STUDENTS TO THE FIRST HOME GAME OF THE SEASON!! PLEASE WELCOME OUR SLYTHERIN TEAM!” The announcer's voice boomed, rattling through the entire stadium.
As much as you resisted cheering, Mina was there to support Renjun, so you gave a few half-hearted claps on her behalf, earning dirty looks from the surrounding Gryffindors. You were in the wrong section if you wanted to support the snakes.
You weren’t looking for him, but Haechan’s blonde hair immediately grabs your attention. He’s smiling, all sharp and smug, and you can make out green face paint dotting the side of his neck. It irked you that he was soaking in the cheering – you bet he got off to on the attention. What? With him being the infamous Slytherin seeker? It went straight to his head, and you knew it.
The team hopped on their brooms and flew around the students, tossing Slytherin gear into the stands as they weaved in and out of the sections. When Haechan passed, he blew you a kiss and winked, infuriating you to the point your face flushed hot.
“Ignore him.” Jihyo rolls her eyes and gives your hand a squeeze, “He’s trying to get you mad. Jeno will put him in his place.”
The thought of Jeno putting him in his place warms your heart. Oh, how good that’ll feel.
Once the Slytherins stopped showing off, the crowd went relatively quiet, waiting for the real star of the show to come out. A thrumming chant started somewhere opposite your section, and soon enough, the entire student body was collectively roaring for Gryffindor.
“WE WANT BETTER, WE WANT MORE, SHOW US GRYFFINDOR!!”
A rumble goes through the crowd right before cold air whips your face and a sea of red jerseys flies over your head. It makes you laugh giddily, and your eyes desperately search for number seven – Jeno.
It takes a second, but soon enough your eyes are locked on his lean figure which presses forward on the thin broom stick. He looked good.
Jihyo goes fucking wild beside you, “There’s your man!” she screeches, and you let out a belly laugh. You both watch as he makes his rounds around the towers filled with cheering students – each and every one until he gets to yours.
“You look beautiful” he shouts, and a dozen girls around you squeal in adoration. He was talking to you though, and you knew it. His eyes sparkle when he gives you a wink. “Wish me luck.” he mouths.
“Omg how cute are you two!?” Jihyo swoons.
You pressed a kiss to your palm and then blew it to him – a signal of your affection. With a wide eye-smile, he grabbed it out of the air and pressed it to his lips.
It was then and there that you decided you were going to kiss him after the match. All too quickly, he flew away, and you watched as he went.
Not two seconds later, a new Gryffindor player was in front of you, balancing on the tail end of his stick. Johnny, you remembered his name.
His jersey was tucked between his teeth, his abs on full display, which sent the hoards of girls around you into a screaming fit. You caught a quick glimpse before he spat the hem out of his mouth.
“Y/N, you want us to win?” He asks, his voice a deep timbre.
You were shocked that he was talking to you – let alone that he knew your name.
Gingerly, you nod your head.
“I bet. You coming to the party after?”
This interaction was so bizarre, and all Jihyo and Mina did to help was stare at the six-foot, built, fine specimen lingering only three feet in front of you.
“Jeno invited me.” For some reason, a blush settles on your face, and you fight the urge to cover it.
“Bet you’re gonna have a fun time with him after.” A dazzling smirk plastered itself on Johnny’s face. “You should ask him if he’ll let you ride his broomstick. I heard he’s a good teacher. It should be fun.” He flew around so quickly it left you blinking in his wake. Over his shoulder, you heard him call out, “See you after, prize girl.”
The entire twenty-second conversation left you reeling, and you tucked a mental note away to ask Jeno about it later.
From across the field, a certain Slytherin seeker was seething. Both his hands grabbed the broom so tightly his knuckles turned white. If he applied any more pressure, it would have broken.
The fuck was Johnny talking to you about? Did it have to do with Jeno? What did you see in him anyways? What did Jeno have that he didn’t? Did he have to prove himself? Yes, he thinks. That’s what he’ll do. He’ll win this match to prove to you that he’s better than Jeno. Maybe then you’ll truly see him – and give him a chance.
Game on.
Two minutes were left in the last quarter, and it was neck and neck.
Green and red jerseys fly around each other.
The stadium echoed with the thunderous cheers as the Quaffle exchanged hands between the opposing teams. The bludgers were like rogue comets, threatening to disrupt the fluid dance of the players. Jeno and Haechan had their eyes fixed on the glittering snitch.
A collective gasp filled the arena as Haechan executed a daring spiral dive, narrowly avoiding a bludger. Simultaneously, Jeno executed a swift roll, evading a clever attempt by the opposing team to intercept him.
The golden snitch continued to flit teasingly ahead, leading the seekers on a merry chase.
You grip onto Jihyo and Mina as the game comes to a crescendo.
It happens so quick you almost miss it, but in three seconds everything changes.
Three.
Jeno becomes unbalanced, teetering sideways on his broom that keeps flying straight. His eyes are locked on yours when a wave of pure panic engulfs his sweaty features.
Haechan flies past him, one hand outstretched towards the golden snitch that loomed just mere inches from his fingertips.
Two.
He flips over the side of his broom, hands reaching out to try and catch himself. One by one his fingers tap the stick, not able to gain any purchase, and then he’s falling.
The other seeker presses ahead, dodging his teammates who don’t have time to get out of his way with how fast he’s flying.
One.
Jeno’s body slams into the grass field beneath the players, his broomstick landing next to his broken figure. He doesn’t get up, doesn’t scream in pain, doesn’t move.
Haechan's hand closed around the golden snitch, a victorious shout echoing from him and his teammates. He turned, searching for you in the crowd, but your gaze was fixed on Jeno.
Zero.
Shouts and cries erupt from the crowd, half in victory and half in shock. Someone screams Jeno’s name and you’re not sure if it’s your own shout, or if that person was just really close by.
With wide eyes, you watch as a bunch of medical staff rush towards him on the field and surround his body. Your body becomes ice cold and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.
Please let him be okay; he has to be okay.
The Slytherin team flies around the field, visiting their supporters in the stands while everyone else’s eyes are on Jeno.
Jihyo grabs your shoulders and gasps when a white medical cot is lifted onto the shoulders of a few Gryffindor players.
“He’s okay. He’s okay.” Mina repeats, taking hold of your hand between hers and you almost sob in relief when you see him wiggling around in the cot, moans of pain falling from his lips too low for your ears to pick up.
Haechan watches from a distance, eyes wide in shock when he takes notice of Jeno’s condition and when he looks up, he sees your dormmates consoling you. He wanted to fly over to you and ask if you’re okay, but he knew you wouldn’t want to hear it, not when Jeno was hurt.
Once Jeno and the medical staff made it off the field, the stands began to clear out, but you feel like you can’t move.
“Come on.” Jihyo murmurs, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around you. It was silly that they had to take care of you like this when you weren’t even the one who was hurt.
When you made it to the bottom of the stand, you huddle together in a group.
Jihyo, with her arm still wrapped around you, gave you a side hug. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Mina nodded in agreement, but you started biting your nails – not that there was much to bite, lord knows they were almost stubs as it was.
Another person slides into your tight group, and you don’t notice until you hear his voice, “The scorekeepers say there was no evidence of foul play.”
When you looked up, you were surprised to see who you thought was Renjun. When he noticed your gaze, he gave a soft smile.
“That’s bullshit,” Jihyo declares, “We all know who did it, and he’s on your fucking team.”
Renjun just shrugs and slides an arm around Mina, and despite the timing and circumstance, you raise an eyebrow at her. She waves you off and slides her attention to Renjun, “Everyone knows it was Haechan.”
“Well, the scorekeepers say otherwise.”
You felt like screaming and crying and running away all at once, but you just stood there, biting your nails.
“I know I probably shouldn’t be asking right now,” Renjun's eyes flickered to you before looking away quickly, “But, I wanted to invite you guys to the after-party. I don’t need an answer, just show up if you want to, and I’ll have Chenle watching for you guys at the door. It starts in half an hour.” He started to pull away from the group but turned back at the last second. “By the way, Y/N, I’m sorry about Jeno. Just because I’m on the opposite team doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad.”
A hum falls from your lips and then he’s off.
“Well, if I need anything right now, it’s a fucking drink,” Jihyo joked, but one look at you, and her laughter died.
Mina is more concerned with you, “We won’t go if you need us.”
“No,” you blurted, dropping your hands from your face. “I –” A particularly loud shout jarred your attention away, and when you looked around to find the culprit, you saw the entire Slytherin team gathering to your right. Haechan stood in the center only long enough for you to make out it was him, then he was being hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders. His eyes met yours, and he smirked, lifting a hand to wave at you. It took everything in you to not storm over there and punch the absolute shit out of him. He wished he was your fucking priority, but that wasn’t the case.
“You sure?” Mina asks, snapping you out of your murderous thoughts.
“I gotta go check on Jeno.” You give a small smile, “Save me a drink?”
Jihyo and Mina both nodded, and before you walked off, you threw a middle finger at Haechan, who caught sight and clasped his chest like he was dying.
It pissed you off, but you had bigger priorities right now.
Haechan would have his turn.
As the cheering fades, the screams take over.
Deep, guttural screams of someone in agonizing pain echo through the empty castle halls leading right to the medical wing. They come in bursts; long strings of curses, grunts, and broken yells, and it makes you inwardly cringe because you knew who they belonged too.
“Jeno…” you whisper, after hearing a particularly jarring shriek.
After rounding the corner, the tall double oak doors loom in front of you, inviting you to join Jeno in his agony, or at least be there to comfort him. Pushing them open, you reveal a large, brightly lit room sectioned off by blue plastic curtains and medical cots. On the left side of the room, you see a nurse tending to who must be Jeno, but you can’t see his face.
You can hear him though.
His voice is amplified ten-fold now that you were in the same room, and instinctively you raise your hands to plug your ears but shake it off. Tentatively you walk over.
“Goddamn Slytherin.” You hear him groan, legs twisting in discomfort when the nurse applies pressure to his arm. It’s evident he’s never been in this much pain before.
“Jeno?” You whisper, startling the nurse who accidentally puts too much pressure on his arm, causing him to jerk away from her, a yelp passing his thin lined lips.
Her hands pepper over his body in apology, not turning her head to look at you, “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I know.” You whisper, and she doesn’t press any further on why you’re there or ask you to leave, so you stay.
Jeno doesn’t even seem to notice you, but that doesn’t matter. You shift around the bed slightly and catch sight of his face. Both his eyes are shut, one ringed in purple and his bottom lip split in two separate places. His nose seemed to get busted in the fall as it was surrounded by dark red, almost black, dried blood. A few droplets splattered on his shirt, accompanying the grass and dirt he had slammed into after falling thirty feet from the sky,
As bad as it may sound, you’re glad Jeno only broke his arm. A fall from that height could have meant paralysis or worse, death. He truly got lucky.
You stand quietly, watching as she shifts Jeno’s arm into a sling, securing it with a couple items you don’t know the name for and then popping a few muggle meds in his mouth. Lifting a glass of water to his lips, he groans, knocking back the pills.
It never sat right with you how the nurses used muggle methods of healing when there were more than a fair share of spells that could work much quicker. It was as if they wanted you to stew in your own misery.
Wasn’t the point of magic to make things easier?
Your thoughts are cut off by the nurse brushing past you, arms full of medical supplies. “Visiting hours are over in twenty minutes. Make it quick.” She warns, before walking away.
“Why are you here.” Jeno groans when she leaves the room, eyes still sticking shut.
“I –”A dull ache lands on your heart and the words catch in the back of your throat, a sudden cough clearing them away.
His lip curls into a sneer, “Spit it out y/l/n,”
The aggression radiating off of him makes you stumble back but you don’t let it scare you. You knew Jeno and he wasn’t scary… or so you thought.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You speak quietly, like any word above a murmur would startle him and hurt him worse.
“Obviously, I’m not fucking okay.” His voice is nasally, mocking you, “But you don’t care, do you? Bet you’re just here to make sure I don’t snitch on your little boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Your eyes narrow down to slits. It angered you that Jeno thought you would give any time of day to the little prick who kept messing with you.
“You should tell him that.”
His eyes snap open and home in on you, glaring from his spot on the bed. Uncomfortable in his position, he squirms a bit, trying to right himself, but he grunts and falls back down, the pain too much for him.
‘You should tell him that.’
The words bounce around the inside of your skull. Did Haechan think you were together? Think he had some kind of weird ass claim over you?
"Jeno –”
“You know I can’t even play quidditch now that my arm is broken. My fucking arm Y/N.” Tears form in the corner of his eyes, whether from the pain or the prospect that he was out for the season, you weren’t sure, “He knocked me off my broom. That’s like… that’s like attempted murder!” he splutters, a crazed expression overtaking his face.
As much as you disliked the guy, there was no way he was capable of murder. No, this was due to his unrelenting jealousy, and someone needed to set him straight.
“Oh, come on, it’s not attempted –”
Jeno’s free hand is shoved in your face, one finger pointing at you patronizingly, “Yes, it is. You and I both know he’s a crazy son of a bitch, and he obviously has something for you so stay the fuck away from me.”
“Really, can we just talk?”
He shakes his head, “No. Get the fuck away from me and keep your little boyfriend in check.”
“For the last time, he’s not –”
“I don’t care what he is! The both of you need to leave me the fuck alone.”
Your heart breaks.
It wasn’t because you liked him. No, that wasn’t it. You just thought this could have been the start of something new since your love life had been wrecked for years thanks to the one and only Lee Donghyuck.
You can’t believe he had the audacity to wreck it again.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, way too low for him to hear, but he waves you off anyway, “I’ll go.”
He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t even watch as you turn your back and walk away, past the blue plastic curtains and out the heavy double doors. The more steps you take, the heavier your heart feels in your chest. Tears burn in your eyes and anger clouds your head with each passing second like poison.
Haechan wasn’t getting away with this, you were going to make sure.
You see fucking red.
Storming through the halls of Hogwarts was a rare occurrence for you, but today was different. People gasped as you briskly brushed past them, your head so hot it felt like smoke might billow from your ears. Annoyed shouts of 'hey' or 'watch it' barely registered as you descended the stairs leading to the ominous 'Slytherin Dungeon.' The air grew colder with each step, mirroring the iciness in your gaze. Thoughts of pounding Haechan's face swirled in your mind, and you couldn't shake the fiery anger fueling your every move.
You knew if Jihyo was here she would make fun of your anger, claiming that you didn’t belong in Hufflepuff with your temper.
Too bad she wasn’t.
Maybe she could have calmed you down, slowed your racing heart and spoken some sense into your hard head, but alas, she wasn’t, and you were only growing more furious by the second.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, you rounded a corner and collided with a Slytherin you recognized as Chenle, thanks to Renjun's heads up. His light green hair parted down the middle, coupled with the trademark Slytherin resting bitch face, transformed into a smirk upon seeing you.
“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” His voice is deeper than you would have thought, and he was much taller when you walked up to him.
"Yeah, yeah, let me in." Impatiently tapping your foot, you watched as he opened the door, revealing the booming bass of the music inside.
"Say hey to him for me." Chenle grinned, extending an arm to welcome you.
You pushed past him, retorting over your shoulder, "You can tell Renjun yourself." Confusion flashed over his face, but the door slammed shut before further words could be exchanged, sealing you inside.
The ambiance in Slytherin territory starkly contrasted with your dorm. Damp darkness replaced the natural sunlight, and the air carried the scent of spicy cologne rather than the comforting aroma of food.
Thank God I wasn’t placed in Slytherin, you think.
Music reverberates off the walls and lands loudly on your eardrums, a soft green glow emitting from the end of the hallway. Conversation and laughter can be heard just slightly above the music, and you follow it till you’re at the end of the corridor and in the den of the snakes.
Green.
There’s green everywhere.
But your dormmates were nowhere to be found. In fact, all you saw in every direction were green robes with the occasional pop of yellow and blue.
No Gryffindors, interesting.
A hand lands on your arm and you jump back at least ten feet.
"Woah, it's just me." Renjun's eyes crinkled with a smile as he extended a drink towards you. You accepted it with a silent 'thank you.'
"Your friends are in the bathroom, I think, but I can wait with you if you like." Renjun's politeness caught you off guard. This has got to be the nicest Slytherin boy you’ve ever met.
As you took a sip of the bitter liquid, you mused, "No need to wait with me... I came to see someone real quick, and then I'll be on my way."
"I know he deserves it, but go easy on him, okay?" Renjun's words hung in the air, causing you to stare at him with disbelief. Sensing your anger, he quickly stepped back, raising a hand. "You know what, forget I said anything."
Cocking your head, you smiled, "Know where I can find him?"
Renjun simply pointed behind you.
Turning around, you spotted the boy in question, lounging on a couch stripped of his robes. Clad in a white button-up shirt and black slacks, Haechan exuded an air of arrogant nonchalance. Two girls clung to either side of him, and a few friends surrounded him, exchanging laughs and banter.
"Thanks, Renjun." You mutter, not bothered to look behind you and see that he wasn’t standing there anymore.
You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and leave the plastic solo cup on a random side table as you stalk over to where the blonde headed boy was lounging. When you push past his friends, his eyes snap to you.
“Glad you could make it.” He beams, eyes washing over your body. You were in that damn skirt, and it drove him fucking wild.
Ignoring him, you placed your hands on your hips. "Get up."
He chuckled, patting his thigh. "Why don't you sit down and enjoy the party?" Laughter erupted from his friends, and the girls hanging off his arms glared at you.
“Get. Up.” You seethe.
“Feisty aren’t you.” He murmurs, shrugging off the girls at his side and standing up.
“Lead the way to your room.”
A few hoots and hollers followed you as he guided you away from the party and into the hallway. "Can't wait to get your hands on me?"
Ignoring him, you followed, your gaze trailing from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades visible through the sheer fabric of his shirt. The muscles rippled as he opened the heavy door of his bedroom, and you had to tear your eyes away before saying something stupid.
The room was as expected, draped in dark green bedding and scattered quidditch gear. The scent of him surrounded you, reminiscent of that damned amortentia brewing session.
While he walks further into the room, you slam the door shut and spin around, “Where the hell do you get off – ”
“Right there.”
“What?” You blink.
“I get off right there.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his bed, “Almost every night, unless I have a match the next day. You know, gotta keep the tension building so I do my best…”
You groan, “You’re unbelievable.” He chuckles a bit and steps closer to you, igniting the nerves that were already high strung, on fire, but you push the thought away, “Why do you feel the need to fuck around with the guys I like.”
“I was trying to win the game. Trust me, you and your relationship was nowhere on my mind.” What a fucking lie, he thinks. “I’m flattered you were thinking about me though.”
“Are you always this full of yourself?” You bite.
He flashes a beaming smile, pearly white teeth on display and you wished you didn’t stare too long at his canines. He had such a pretty smile and you wished you didn’t have to notice it. “When you look like I do, it’s kind of hard not to be.”
“Slytherin suits you, huh?” you sneer.
“Exactly.” He reaches an arm overtop of you and semi cages you against the door and his body, “So now that’s cleared up, can I go back out there and celebrate my win?”
He was so close to you, his lips only inches from your own, and his cologne was wafting up in your face sending you into a daze. God he was so cute, no not cute – hot. He was hot. You wonder what it would feel like to stretch your neck and kiss him. Did he taste how he smelled?
The fucking drink.
Whatever Renjun had given you was reaching your bloodstream way faster than muggle alcohol. You make a mental note to rip his head off later, but for now you turn your attention back to Haechan’s insanely close face.
“You need to realize –”
He cuts you off again, “Look, I’m all for being in here with you, but if you insist on keeping that pretty mouth running, I suggest you put it to good use instead of chastising me.” His eyes flicker from your own to your lips, almost like he was thinking about kissing you just as much as you were thinking about kissing him.
Do it, just kiss me, you think, but different words are said, “You wish.”
“Yeah, I do.” He quips.
“Can’t you be serious for one fucking second you asshole.” A drawn-out groan escapes you as you press your hand against him, hoping to coax him into backing off. Regrettably, he remains a solid wall of muscle and strength, unmoved by your attempts.
“Sorry, it’s just hot when you insult me. Do it again” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and leans in, one hand reaching out to caress the underside of your jaw.
He doesn't know where the newfound confidence was coming from. You were supposed to hate him, yet he had you in his bedroom. The same bedroom where he thought about fucking you. Where he got off to the memories of that goddamn mirror. Where he fantasized about you slotting your thighs on either side of his head, and sitting down on his waiting lips.
You swat his hand away, “Do you have any idea how stupid you are?”
“Not as stupid as you would look with a cock in your mouth.”
Wishful thinking, he muses.
You roll your eyes at his remark, but nonetheless a heat surges between your legs. You would look stupid – but Haechan’s cock in your mouth sounds all too great. “Are you done?”
“Done with what?”
You roll your eyes. Again. “Being an idiot.”
“Would an idiot make you flush so easily like this?” He strokes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingertips burning against your skin, “See? I make you flustered. You want me. Badly.”
Again, wishful thinking.
“You think I want you badly?” You scoff, a hand coming in contact with his crotch, “You’re the one hard. Do you get off on hurting people?”
“Yes.” He stares into your eyes, a mischievous glint shining in them, “I do.”
“God you’re fucking pathetic.”
He groans and pushes his hips into your hand. “Say it again.”
A loud and drawn-out gasp leaves your lips, “No fucking way you’re getting off on this too.” His dick twitches in his pants at your accusation.
“You talk too much. Just suck my dick already.”
Third times a charm.
Seeing him like that, pliant underneath your hand… it makes your heartbeat erratic and your face flush. You could tell he wanted it, and he wanted it bad, so why didn’t you give in to it? Give in to him? The air around you shifts and whatever it was, it has you lowering yourself down onto the floor so that you were kneeling below him, hands clawing at his belt buckle.
His eyes widen when he realizes what you’re doing. “I was kidd –”
“Is this what you want?” you coo, “Want me on my knees like this?” You slip his belt through the loops slowly and muster up the most innocent smile you could.
“You should stop, I was kidding.” He grunts, forearms tightening when you get his belt off and start on his pants button.
“I think you should shut up.”
He complies and doesn’t say a word while you pull both his pants and boxers down till they pooled around his ankle and he kicked them off.
Lee Donghyuck had a right to be cocky.
His cock sprung up against his abdomen standing tall and hard, clear, sticky precum droplets collecting on his tip. He fidgets under your gaze, but you were in awe at how big he was.
“Are you just gonna look at it?” He whines, one of his hands wrapping around your head and fisting tightly in your hair, “At least kiss it or something.”
You watched him twitch slightly as the cold air met his length, and again when your hand wandered past his thigh to grip him in your palm, squeezing him tightly at the base. He shivers into your touch, “You have a pretty dick.”
“So, I’ve been told.” He all but moans and tries to bring your head forward.
His neediness draws you closer, and you take him in your mouth. He was heavy and sweet, so fucking right for you that you don’t think straight and take him all the way in till he hits the back of your throat.
“Fuck.” He groans, holding your head down till you were choking and batting his thighs.
When he lets up, you gasp for air though you don’t find yourself mad, instead, you feel the fire in your stomach growing hotter and the wetness in your panties pooling.
“Ke-Keep going.” He stutters, the intent was strong, but his words broke in the moment.
You turn you head and lick from the base of his cock to his tip, relishing the way he bucks his hips into your fist. A rosy blush covers his neck and cheeks when you look up at him. When you meet his doe eyes, they were hooded with lust. For a split second he watches you lick all over him, giving a few small kisses on his tip, before he rolls his head back and closes his eyes.
Messily, you spit on his tip, using your hands to spread it down his length and he groans into the stilled air. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“So, I’ve been told.” You mock his earlier words, and his hold on your hair tightens as a warning.
Rolling your eyes, you take him in your mouth again, leaving your hand to pump his base while you harshly suck at his hot skin. He tries to push into the back of your throat again but knowing that you couldn’t take him again without choking, you dig your nails into his thighs, leaving him to shamelessly whimper out.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good baby.” He grunts, losing himself in the way your warm mouth glides down his length, and the right amount of pressure you’re squeezing around his base. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was your cunt he was pounding into.
You hum around his cock at the praise and repeat your movements, slightly taken aback by his pet name. In the back corner of your mind, you hope it was just a slip of the tongue.
The alcohol had too much of a hold on you to think about anything else other taking his cock down your throat, and loving every second.
His chest begins to heave, and his legs start to shake bit as you draw him deeper down your throat, and when you look up, you notice his curious eyes watching you. He thinks about unbuttoning his shirt but pushes the thought aside when you erratically rub the underside of his length with your tongue.
“Bet you love the taste of my cock.” He whispers and you moan around a mouthful of him, the vibrations sending him into a euphoric head high.
He wasn’t wrong. You loved this, loved the feeling of having him slightly submissive under you with his dominant nature peeking through a bit.
It felt like a fucking dream.
“Can I cum down your throat?”
You’re shocked that he’s close already, but with the palpable tension beforehand acting like foreplay, you shouldn’t be. You try and nod to the best of your ability and you guess he gets the message because he’s fisting your hair again and drawing you close, a string of curses falling from his lips.
Uncontrollable gasps and grunts leave him as he fucks your throat, leaving you to helplessly take it – take all of him, and before you know it, hot white cum is shooting down your throat, his head thrown back as he snaps his hips against your face.
You felt like a rag doll in his grip but that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was swallowing his arousal, a bit of it landing on your tongue and while you thought it was going to taste salty, you’re mildly surprised to find its sweet.
“My god, I can’t believe you actually did that.” He pants, moving to put his slacks back on while you stand up and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I – Thank you.”
A darker blush flushes on his face and he turns to you now fully dressed. He wasn’t sure what to say now, and that was a first for him.
“Are you happy?” You spit, a bout of spite coming out of nowhere, “Did you get what you wanted? Will you leave me and Jeno alone now?”
He stumbles back like your words had a physical effect on him, “What are you talking about? You dragged me in here?”
Where did the sudden flip of emotion come from? One minute you had his cock in your mouth and the next you’re yelling at him again. The both of you can’t come up with an answer, but somewhere in your brain you knew it was your way of trying to convince yourself the rising feelings you were having towards him weren’t a thing; would never be a thing.
“Just leave me and Jeno alone now. Okay?”
You straighten your blouse and fix your hair before opening the door behind you and storming out. He tries to follow you, half stumbling through the hall till he was out in the party again where his friends clap him on the back, congratulating him on ‘hitting that yellow tail’, but he can’t find it in himself to smile and jeer back. All he does is watch you storm away, his friend Renjun reaching out for you. Your dormmates try and stop you but you blow past them and round the corner where the door to the stairs were.
Should he let you go?
Or should he follow?
"Fuck this."
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Theodore Nott and the Fortress of Trust Issues: how to cast a patronus in 3 easy steps
Theodore Nott x reader
Summary: Theodore Nott had never been able to cast a patronus. In third year, when dementors were swarming the castle, of course he tried, but was never able to manage more than a whisp of soft silver. Come seventh year, he was painfully unsurprised when his efforts were once again lack luster. Turns out, with the right tutor, casting the formidable charm might not be as impossible as he thought.
word count: 3.8k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Theodore glowered menacingly at the students below him chattering happily amongst themselves in the courtyard. A puff of smoke slipping through his lips as he leaned on the railing of the astronomy tower. Theo knew his life wasn’t exactly one that most would be envious of. Sure his family had money, power, but add on a mother who had died far before her time, and a death eater father whose attention it was far better to avoid? Theo laughed dryly to himself.
Theo knew he didn’t have many happy memories. Truly happy memories. He was painfully, excruciatingly, self aware. Still, nothing made it quite so glaringly obvious that his life was rather pathetic than broadcasting to his entire charms class his bitter inability to force even a wisp of silvery bloody smoke out of his bloody wand. Yes. Flitwick had finally found his weakness. That damned Patronus spell. Being one of the top students of his year, it was humiliating. It wasn’t even expected that most of the class would be able to cast a corporeal patronus, yet even Draco and Matteo of all people managed to produce soft billowy clouds of silvery magic.
Theo shook his head at the thought, trying to clear his mind. His eyes once again began gazing about the courtyard before landing on a lone figure sitting beneath a willow tree, hidden from view unless one was looking close enough. Theo brought his smoke to his lips once more, inhaling deeply as he watched a burst of silver leave the tip of the girl’s wand. His eyes darkened with envy, remembering the words of his professor from earlier that day.
“Wonderful, y/n. Just wonderful! A fox! Withdrawn when necessary, but natural adaptors. Embodying intelligence, independence, mischief, and beauty. A unique patronus indeed.”
His eyes narrowed as he watched the silver creature trot happily through the air before turning and dropping his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it harshly. With one last glance at the girl sitting awestruck with her silvery companion, he descended down the stairs, determined to spend the rest of his night, moping in peace.
Step 1: Find a Pretty Tutor (read: have a tutor forced upon you under the threat of a failing grade.)
“What do you mean a tutor? You of all people?” Matteo laughs mercilessly as Theo scowls at him. “Can’t believe I’m doing better than you in a class, you must be bloody miffed.”
Theo tuned out his friend’s laughter as he continued to glower at the floor in front of him. The two boys currently sat in the Slytherin common room as Theo hastily tried to finish up his ancient runes homework before dragging his arse to the library to meet his supposed tutor. Matteo was making this quite difficult however as he continued to poke fun at the boy, rattling on about how, for once, Theo had had the nerve to not be good at something. The horror.
Snapping his textbook closed and sliding it into his book bag, Theo began gathering his things, choosing to forego the blasted assignment.
“Aww, have fun with you little tutor Teddy. Maybe it’ll be that foxy Ravenclaw you’re always staring at. Bit ironic that her patronus is a fox innit?” Matteo teases as he watches his friend’s jaw clench at the mention of the pretty girl.
While perhaps Matteo wasn’t the most entirely perceptive of the bunch, it would take a blind man to not notice Theodore’s eyes flicker over to the group of Ravenclaws throughout their shared charms class.
“Shut up Matt. Shouldn’t you be shagging Astoria in a broom closet somewhere?” He grunts out.
Matteo smirks, knowing he’d found a tick, but deciding to leave it for another time.
“Not a bad idea mate, see you later. You’ll have to tell Enzo and I all about your tutoring session tonight,” he says with a wink before sauntering off towards the girl’s dormitories.
With a heavy sigh, Theo began making his way slowly towards the library, silently cursing Professor Flitwick as he recalled their conversation from earlier that day.
Class was finally wrapping up for the day and Theo was about ready to bolt out of that blasted classroom, but Flitwick had other ideas.
“Mr. Nott? A word?” He’s called from his grand podium in the center of the room.
The summons had garnered a few raised eyebrows and surprised looks from his fellow classmates, and Theo had trudged solemnly up to the professor.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you appeared to have had some difficulty today,” the professor and stated rather bluntly after all the other students had shuffled out.
Theo blinked back up at his professor.
“You do understand of course, that I cannot grant marks for a spell you did not perform?” He asks finally.
Theo once again stares blankly back at the professor.
Appearing to grow uncomfortable under the boy’s steady, unwavering gaze, Flitwick lets out a deep sigh.
“Mr. Nott. I’m aware that you are quite the talented young wizard, and I simply do not want to have to give you low marks on an assignment I’m confident you could perform well on.”
Still nothing from the brown haired Slytherin.
“I’ve arranged for you to begin working with a tutor until you’re able to cast the spell.” He says finally.
Theo frowns. He’s never had a tutor before. Never needed one.
“Professor-“ he begins to protest.
“The two of you can begin later this evening. 8 o’clock in the library,” Flitwick interrupts before shooing him off to his next class.
Finally arriving outside the library doors, Theo made another look of distaste before pushing through the large double doors. His eyes gazed over the tables not entirely sure who he was looking for as the twat had never actually told him who would be tutoring him. He felt his body freeze momentarily when his eyes locked with another pair of bright eyes and he began silently cursing Matteo. The bloody fucking bastard had jinxed him.
You sat quietly at your table in the library, waiting for the clock to slowly hit 8 as you mindlessly worked away at your essay for ancient runes. During charms today, Flitwick had noticed one of your classmates have a particularly difficult time with the lesson and asked for you to guide them in the right direction. Not one to argue with your head of house, you’d easily agreed.
As the clock struck 8, you began casting quick glances every so often at the library doors, until suddenly you were locked in the gaze of none other than Theodore Nott. Surely he wasn’t the one you would be tutoring? You didn’t know the boy particularly well, but you did know that he was a fierce competitor for top of the class in most of your other lessons. You watched silently as he made his way over to your table, offering him a small smile.
“Charms?” He asks, tossing his bag onto the table with a gentle thud.
You give him a slight nod, eyeing his tall figure as he sat lazily across from you.
“Well I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’ll be wasting your time. Never been able to cast the damn spell. Probably never will,” he says, leaning back on the chair, eyes not wavering.
You purse your lips. Looking at the handsome boy in front of you.
“I suppose you’ll just have to trust me then, won’t you?” You reply, a challenging tone apparent in your voice.
The boy smirks at this, cocking his head as if really getting a good look at you for the first time before finally replying, “I’ve never been particularly trusting.”
“Well then I guess you’ll be learning all sorts of things.”
You take your charms book out of your bag, opening it to the reading you had been assigned earlier in the week. You glance up to see Theodore mirroring your actions silently.
“A patronus, is a concentration of pure happiness and hope, derived from the recollection of a single talisman memory which is essential in its creation,” you read, the underlined section of the textbook was one you had pre-selected as it was the concept most people struggled to grasp.
Watching Theo stiffen and clench his jaw slightly, you knew you were right.
“When someone is unable to cast a patronus, I’ve found it’s usually because they haven’t figured out yet how to focus in on their talisman memory,” you continue.
“And if someone doesn’t have a talisman memory?” Theo’s voice interrupts.
You glance up at him in surprise.
“Everyone has a talisman memory. We just need to find it.”
“I don’t have one.” He insists.
“Then we’ll make one.”
The boy sighs in frustration. Fists clenching as he glares at the textbook in front of him.
“It might not be as complicated as you’re making it. I know when Flitwick was in class, he made it seem like your talisman memory had to be a big, grande gesture, or a clear moment of inexplicable joy. But I think the little moments count too. Everyone has been happy at least once,” you say, watching as Theo slowly relaxes.
“What do you think about?” He asks, before quickly back tracking “You don’t have to answer that.”
“All sorts of things really,” you reply, offering another small smile. “When I got my first wand at Ollivander’s. Honeydukes with the rest of the Ravenclaws. Playing quidditch. Specially that time we beat Gryffindor.”
Theo snorts at that, a small grin reaching his lips.
“Point is, it doesn’t matter how small the moment is, long as it made you happy.”
You’re met with silence, as Theo continues to stare down at his textbook, a look a deep contemplation on his face.
“Think that’s enough for today. Flitwick said to keep up the sessions until you’re at least able to cast an incorporeal patronus, so, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Theo nods his head, still not meeting your gaze.
“Does 6 o’clock on the lawn work?” You ask, only to be met with another nod.
Sensing the boy needed a bit of space, you quickly gathered your things before leaving the boy to his thoughts.
Step 2: Accidentally Fall In Love with Your Tutor (if you weren’t half way there already.)
You sit staring out at the vast lake in front of you, watching as the breeze pushed against the water, forming rolling waves across the surface and taking a deep breath in. You had been meeting Theodore here every day at 6 o’clock sharp for almost two whole weeks now, but you honestly weren’t sure if he’d show up today. Not that you’d blame him.
You felt as if you’d really failed him as a tutor after so many consecutive days of work, with nothing to show for it. On top of that, the two of you had gotten into a rather intense shouting match yesterday, the stress of the whole thing really getting to the both of you.
You lean back, laying down on the soft blanket below you, knees still propped up, and close your eyes, thinking back to the first time the two of you had met out in this very spot. You’d originally picked the spot, because it helped you clear your mind and you thought it might help clear Theo’s too.
That first day had been awkward. Almost painfully so. You had simply wanted to talk. Get to know the boy, pick his brain for any source of happiness or joy he might get out of life. You didn’t get much, so instead you talked about your own life. What it was like living in Ravenclaw tower, the time you and Cho had tried out together for the quidditch team. You told him how you had gone to the Yule ball with a big group of friends, and how you thought it was much better than going with some stuffy date, and how your favorite candies were the purple taffies from Honeydukes, and your favorite flowers were deadly poisonous despite their pretty and innocent appearance.
The second day, you borrowed Cho’s cat and brought her along to the meeting, thinking it might help further relax your brown haired companion. It did, so you brought her along the next day, and the day after that. It wasn’t until the fourth day that Theo broke. Sure he had told you a bit about his time at Hogwarts. Playing on Slytherin’s quidditch team. Sharing a dorm with Matteo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire. But on the fourth day, he told you about his mother. You weren’t expecting it, and it honestly had caught you wildly off guard. Theodore’s mother had been the light of his world, and after she was gone, you could understand why he thought he would never cast a patronus.
It went on like this, the two of you gradually becoming closer, as you carefully began building a sort of trust between the two of you. You thought you might even be becoming friends; which excited you as you’d never been quite able to stop your eyes from wandering over to the group of Slytherins in the back of the class, and stopping on the tall, brunette boy with pretty eyes. You tried every couple of days to cast the spell, guiding him through different memories, trying to focus in on different experiences. But still nothing. You had even tried inviting Matteo and Enzo to a session, hoping they’d help lighten his mood, but it only ended in the four of you skiving wildly off course and getting nothing done. You and Theo had laughed about it the next day, but still not even a whisp of silvery magic.
It had all come to a head yesterday. You could feel the two of you beginning to lose hope, but you were nothing if not determined. The two of you were sitting quietly, skimming the textbook for what seemed like the thousandth time, when Theo suddenly stopped and looked up at you.
“I read something the other day. Bout patronuses. And being able to cast em.”
You looked up from your reading, intrigued.
“Said that there’s a widespread, and justified, belief that witches and wizards who aren’t pure of heart can’t cast a patronus.”
Your mouth slowly formed an O shape, and the book you were holding dropped to the ground, completely forgotten.
“Theodore. You don’t honestly think. That’s ridiculous.”
“It makes sense doesn’t it? Why I can’t even cast an incorporeal charm. Why nothing we’ve tried works. There’s no point,” Theo had said, growing frustrated.
“Theodore stop. That theory is all nonsense. There isn’t even any evidence really to back it up,” you reply.
“Why else would nothing be working?” Theo asks, slamming his book on the ground.
“Theo!”
“No, y/n, honestly. What other explanation could there be. We’ve been doing this for weeks.” Theo’s voice began to rise.
“And we’ll continue until you’re able to get this.”
“What’s the bloody point? We’ve tried everything!”
“And we just need to try a bit harder!” You respond.
“You think I haven’t been trying?”
“Of course I know you’ve been trying! And I’ve been trying to do everything I can to help you succeed!”
“And everything I’ve been doing is for you! I don’t care about the bloody charm, I don’t want to disappoint you!”
Theo’s outburst had shocked you, and your breath hitched as the two of you stared at each other, Theo’s words sinking in.
Then he was kissing you. Hot lips working against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. Your fingers worked their way up to his hair, relishing in how soft his brown waves were as you tugged at them gently.
You let out a soft moan as you felt his tongue glide gently across your bottom lip before diving in at the opportunity you had provided him.
You seemed to get lost in the feeling of his soft lips and large hands around your waist holding you firmly in place. You had no idea how much time had passed by the time you were both panting for breath, foreheads resting against one another.
Seeming to really realize what he’d done, Theo looked down at you, eyes beginning to widen slightly.
“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he’d said before promptly rising and hastily making his way back to the castle.
Now, your finger tips softly brushed the soft leather of Theo’s book bag that he’d abandoned yesterday in his hurry to leave. You thought that maybe, if for no other reason, he’d perhaps come to retrieve it. Not that he needed to you thought dryly, knowing that with his Gringotts account, he could’ve easily already replaced it and its contents.
Sitting up, you glance at your time piece showing a quarter after 6. With a deep sigh, you fish your transfiguration textbook out of your bag, flipping it open to begin your assigned reading. You’re only a few pages in when a twig snaps somewhere behind you. Whipping around, you see him standing there, handsome as ever, looking down at you.
“Sorry I’m late. And, sorry for yesterday,” he mumbles, dropping down to sit next to you.
You eye him warily as he refuses to make eye contact with you, eyes appearing to be glazed over as he gazes out at the lake like you had been earlier.
Slowly, and ever so carefully, you shift next to him so that your arms and legs brush softly, and you gently lean your head against his shoulder as you join him in looking out at the water. You feel him tense initially before slowly relaxing, leaning in as the two of you sat in silence.
“I won’t give up, if you don’t,” you say finally as Theo’s hand finds yours.
Step 3: Trust
It had been a week now since that day at the lake, and you weren’t quite sure where you stood anymore with Theo. You still met each other everyday by the lake, slipping easily into your usual banter. But now it was eyes meeting from across the classroom and slips of paper making their way back and forth. Your fingertips would brush softly in the hallways, and sometimes, you’d feel a hand reach out, pulling you into a hidden nook, and warm lips would meet your own. But you’d never actually, talked, about it.
You shake the thoughts out of your mind, a shiver running down your spine, as you focus in on the present. That all wasn’t the reason you once again found yourself lying out on the lawn, Theo’s head resting comfortably in your lap.
“Can you cast it?” Theo asks, looking up at you.
“Hmm?”
“Your patronus? Can you cast it? I know yours is a full, corporeal form.”
Looking down at the boy, your fingers weave slowly through his hair as you reach for your wand.
Closing your eyes and taking a breath, you focus in, memories flashing through your mind, a sense of warmth overtaking you.
“Expecto patronum.” The spell falls from your lips and you open your eyes to see a silver fox tumble out of the tip of your wand before trotting through the air around you.
You really did love the spell and it amazed and intrigued you every time. A reflection of someone’s soul, your textbook had said. It could change throughout one’s life, should they experience a shocking event, grow more mature, fall in love. The last one had always been the most curious, the idea of someone loving so much, that a piece of their soul reflected that of their loved one.
You watch as Theo’s eyes follow the the creature in awe.
“You know this is hopeless right?” Theo asks softly, your hand in his hair freezing.
“Theodore. We agreed that-“
“But really what’s the point? So I get one poor mark. When am I ever going to need to use the spell really? No point in wasting time on something that’s hopeless.”
You carefully mull over Theo’s words in your head. You supposed that realistically, he wasn’t necessarily wrong practicality wise. But if you both simply gave up, would he ever want to see you again? You knew in your core that it was selfish, but the last three weeks really had been some of the best during your time at Hogwarts. Which was saying a bit considering you’d been there for almost seven years. You supposed you’d just hoped- hoped. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless. Hope. A concentration of pure happiness and hope.
“Theodore?”
“Amore?”
“When you’re thinking of your happy memory, why did you choose it?”
Theo gives you a strange look.
“Because it made me happy at the time, and the talisman memory is supposed to be a happy.”
“Good. But can you tell me why it’s so important to focus on a happy memory?”
Theo blinks.
“Because the spell says so.”
You let out a small laugh.
“Because the whole point of the charm is to create protection from the dark. Something that will keep you safe so that you can continue to feel that happiness. To give you hope.”
Theo furrows his eyebrows and frowns.
“This feels emotional.” He says, his face distorting in disgust.
“Sometimes magic is.”
Theo’s frown deepens. “It shouldn’t be. I’m perfectly content being apathetic and emotionally detached thanks.”
You let out a small snort. “Come on Theo. Try it again. But this time, think about your memory and why you want to feel that again.”
Theo’s face scrunches up in distaste before he sits up lazily, picking up his wand. You watch as he closes his eyes, pausing. His chest slowly rises then falls, once, twice.
“Expecto patronum.”
Nothing. Theo let’s put an annoyed sigh.
“Hey, it’s okay. You can try again. Think about something that you love, make sure you can picture it clearly. Something that made you so happy that you would relive it over and over.”
Theo’s eyes flick over to you, a brow raised before he closes his eyes once again. You watch him closely, perhaps too closely, as a minute passes. Then two. You’re almost worried he’s fallen asleep sitting up when the words fall from his lips.
“Expecto patronum.”
A burst of silver flashes out of his wand, and your jaw drops as your eyes follow the silver creature that had emerged, gracefully moving across the lawn.
Your eyes dart over to Theo, and you reach out to grab his arm seeing that he’d not yet opened his eyes again. When his eyes finally open once more, his gaze immediately falls on the whimsical creature, eyes widening slightly as he stares at his patronus in disbelief before looking at you with bewildered confusion.
“That’s not mine.” You tell him with a small smile, giving his arm a squeeze as you both look up at the silver fox dancing through the air.
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