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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝕴'𝖉 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓 (𝕶𝖎𝖒 𝕳𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖏𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖌) 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐀𝐔, 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: "𝐈'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 ��𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞... 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧.."- 𝐈'𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧- 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.2K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦/𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧),

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @hanatiny @galaxteez @deja-vux @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @daniblogs164 @multidreams-and-desires @rvse-miingi @couchpotatoaniki

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The crowd trailed behind the entourage that was passing through the streets, all of them dressed in black mourning clothes as the priest leading them recited solemn verses in the Latin language that hardly any of the villagers understood. The only other sound besides the collective steps of their feet was the heart wrenching wailing coming from the grief stricken mother who clutched tightly onto the casket that held her deceased daughter's body, the corpse pale as snow while the darkened black lips struck out in sharp contrast. The bystanders looked at the now childless parents with pity, some of the men taking off their caps and draping it across their chest to show respect, while some of the women clutched their own children closely to them, fearing that perhaps one of their own might become the next victim in the series of horrific and unnatural deaths that were suddenly spiking up out of nowhere. The skies had been a smokey gray for quite some time, sunshine hadn't hit them ever since these horrible misfortunes started happening. The town was swept by death, causing a somber and haunting atmosphere that sent chills down the spines of even the bravest of men.

Some distance away from the funeral mass, a gloomy looking nobleman watched from on top of his horse as they marched towards the cemetary, the loud ringing of the church bell behind him adding a more dark effect to the event. He took a deep breath at the scene, these types of things no longer affecting him, he had become quite numb to them after having seen and witnessed so many of them. Still, he felt bothered by the fact that they had yet to find a solution to the problem. Ever since he and other nobles from the area, and even some from neighboring towns, were tasked with the mission of finding the root of the evil sending doom upon the towns and villages, they had hardly gotten any rest from the endless crying demands for answers from the peasants, from the king and parliament putting pressure on them to get things fixed and their own minds starting to crumble from seeing death everywhere.

Hearing the rattling of chains being scraped across the stone pavement, he turned his head to see 4 armored knights dragging a poor young woman. The tiny and frail thing already had scrapes across her body, her tired and sore limbs could barely stand up as she was being led to her execution. Her pleading and cries stating her innocence fell upon deaf ears, just like her predecessors. No matter how much she begged to be spared or asked for help, she was only met with disdainful and hate filled stares from anyone that saw, some even going as far as cursing or spitting at her direction. That was another scene that had become weekly thing, but unlike the other which didn't faze him, this was the one that still affected him greatly:

The burnings at the stakes of the supposed witches.

The galloping of another horse signaled that someone else was approaching him. Tugging gently at his trusted steed, he shifted to the right so he could welcome the person coming up to him, their horse neighing loudly as it came to a stop.

"Any reports Hongjoong?" He recognized the male as one of the noblemen he was closer to, though he wouldn't necessarily call him a friend.

Shaking his head, the raven haired male drew out an exhausted sigh.

"Not since the last one I sent, Chan. There's nothing much to detail right now. We either have to wait until the next child dies or until the next person is captured and tried for witchcraft." He gulped as he feared that the latter would be the case.

"I take it you saw the one we just caught?" Chan asked.

Hongjoong merely nodded, his partner seeming satisfied.

"Hopefully that's the last of them bloody pagans. Causing nothing but trouble in the kingdom, I wish they all died."

He wasn't surprised to hear his comrades or otherwise talk so spitefully against so called witches. He was very well aware of their hatred for them, blaming them for all the bad things that occurred to them such as famines, bad weather, plagues and other misfortunes.

"Are we even certain that it truly is them to blame for all these things?"

Chan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oi mate, don't tell me you're actually softening up to them? Everyone knows witches are the devil's workers sent out to strike us with all sorts of evils. If we get rid of them, we'll finally have some peace around here."

Hongjoong resisted the urge to roll his eyes or say something else. He knew how dangerous it was to voice out anything that went against the population opinion, and his status as one of the elite ranked nobles wouldn't spare him either. So instead he just kept quiet, and tried to do his job as best he could without having to point fingers or arrest anyone in the process. He definitely didn't want anymore innocent people burned just to satisfy the sadistic and twisted desires of others.

"I best be going now. I'm going to take one last look around the outskirts of town and see if I find anything unusual."

Chan commended his partner and wished him good fortune, he himself turning the other direction to oversee the burning that was about to happen. Kicking his horse's abdomen gently, Hongjoong raced through the streets, passing all the houses and farmlands, carefully making his way into the dense and eerie forest that was a few miles away from the town. Not one pious person dared to enter there, for there were rumors that it was the dwelling place of evil spirits, the few people who had gone in swearing on their lives that supernatural events occurred there.

But Hongjoong believed no such things nor paid attention to any of the talk such simple minded folks spewed out. Though he could not outwardly say it, he was opposed to the witch trials, believing the so called pagans to be harmless people who simply had different religious views and beliefs from the holy catholic church that predominated across the country. He was thoroughly convinced that they used brute force and drastic measures to eradicate anyone who dared present a challenge to their authority and thus strike fear into people, forcing them to stay in their churches, ruling over them with a tight iron fist.

Of course there was a time where Hongjoong himself believed in them just as the others still did. He used to be a very religious and righteous person, making sure to follow through on the customs and traditions laid out by the church and which were taught to him since infancy. There was a time he too was fervent in his endeavor to rid the country of all the heretics and pagans and hated them with a burning passion......

That is until he met one, not only seeing them up close, but he actually was saved by them when he accidentally slipped by a riverbank and nearly drowned. But he was caught and rescued. When he regained consciousness, he found himself staring up into the most beautiful [insert color] eyes that he had ever seen in his life. The kind stranger had taken him back to what he assumed was her temporary home, given that witches hardly stayed at one place for a long time. She treated the gnashes on his body that were caused by the sharp rocks and fed him some strange but delicious soups that helped him regain energy and his strength. Seeing and receiving her kindness and generosity even when she knew very well who he was had him questioning everything he was ever taught. He found himself going back into the woods, his only goal was to see her again. He visited her every time he could, growing fond of the exotic woman and developing a deep affection for her, which was more than welcomed by her as she reciprocated his feelings.

Slowly guiding his horse through the vast trees, he let out a smile as he finally spotted a familiar head of [insert color] hair. She had her back turned to him, the woman busy as she played with raven that had perched itself on her arm after being offered berries and other nuts. She whistled at it softly, giggling when the bird finished up its last morsel of food before spreading its wings and soaring high up on the sky.

"Beautiful." She couldn't help but say as she admired the way it flew across the heavens.

"Yes you are."

She was startled by the voice that suddenly spoke up behind her, but when she saw who it belonged her, her face brightened up. Quickly getting off his horse, Hongjoong ran over towards his lover who was equally sprinting over to him, careful not to stumble on her long emerald green dress. They embraced each other tightly, having gone weeks without seeing or hearing from each other.

"Thank goodness you're ok." Hongjoong whispered, placing a strong kiss on her cheek.

"My lord, I missed you." She brushed a hand across his face as she often did to feel his aura and warmth, something he learned long ago not to question. He simply allowed her to finish before taking her hand and placing kisses all over each of her fingertips.

"And I you. I missed you terribly Y/N. I thought I was going to be driven mad if I didn't see you again."

Thumbs caressing her jaw, his eyes looked into hers, silently asking for permission like they always did whenever he wanted a certain thing. Nodding enthusiastically, she pulled his body against hers and allowed him to kiss her. His kiss was desperate and full of emotions, as expected from someone who had been kept away from his love for too long. Once he got his fill of stealing more than a few kisses from her, he pulled away but still kept her at an arm's length, refusing to be separated from her.

"Are you well my love? You seem pained and agitated." She pointed out.

Hongjoong never felt any qualms about sharing his problems or thoughts with her. She wasn't oblivious to what was going on back in the town, which is why she stayed hidden, far away from prying eyes.

"Another child died recently and with that.... another trial."

Y/N shuddered slightly at the mention of the trials, not because she feared for her own life. But because she knew very well most if not all of the people who had died were all innocent and did not participate let alone knew anything about the practices she indulged in.

"It's not stopping anytime soon is it?"

Hongjoong shook his head in a defeated stance.

"Unless we find a reason as to why there are countless mortalities in the infants, they won't stop until they eliminate half of the population."

Feeling frustrated, Hongjoong walked over to one of the trees and punched the trunk, not caring that his knuckles were now scraped and had blood on them. Wanting to comfort him, Y/N wrapped her arms behind him, pulling him tightly against her body as she began singing a soft and oriental style lullaby that she'd often sing to him. He did not understand the words nor got a hint as to what the language was and he didn't dare ask. But it was soothing and healing to hear. He closed his eyes and felt himself drift off into a lucid dream in which no one else but him and Y/N existed. He began to forget about reality and instead enjoyed that moment of being with the person he loved and cherished the most. He was so enchanted by her voice he didn't even realize she had turned him around and trapped him between the tree and her body until he felt his back hit against the trunk.

Awakening from his trance, he gazed down at his lovely enchantress, his eyes lowering down to take in her curves that stood out in that tight and fitted dress she was wearing. He began to have impure thoughts and imagined what would she look like without those garments, no doubt majestic and gorgeous. Her silhouette was very desirable and he'd often fantasise about having her nude body pressed against his own. As if reading his thoughts, Y/N pressed her chest against his, rubbing her breasts against his torso which had Hongjoong inhaling sharply as he stared down at her cleavage.

"I shouldn't feel like this.." He admitted rather embarrassed, having always prided himself in being able to restrain himself from such sinful and tempting desires.

Chuckling softly, the young witch pressed open mouth kisses across his jaw, making him fall deeper into her charms, unable to resist her touches. Another thing about Y/N: she awakened some very unwholesome and carnal feelings that had been buried deep down for years. He had never looked nor thought of a woman like he did with her. Never did he feel an intense want to own her, claim her body and fill her up with his seed so they could be connected as one. But he always shyed away from fully releasing his earthly desires, afraid of not being able to satisfy her given his lack of experience.

"Oh God-" Hongjoong muttered when her mouth nibbled across his neck, teeth raking against his soft skin.

"Do you really think it's wise to call out to him when we're doing something that's completely unholy?" She teased, lightly sucking on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

Hongjoong tensed up when he felt her hand brush along his pants. Instinctively, he stopped her hand, effectively making her pull away from his neck to make sure she didn't cause him any harm or unpleasant feeling.

"Remember I'm- I'm a virgin..." He said that last part very quietly, cheeks turning a faint red tone.

Smiling kindly at him, she pressed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I'm well aware my love and I promised I wouldn't force you to do anything you're not ready for. So trust me, I will wait until you're ready." She assured him.

Hongjoong felt blessed to have her, she was so caring and understanding with him, not to mention patient and reasonable. He felt safe when he was with her and he felt truly free to be who he really was and not someone society expected him to be.

"That being said..... I can't let my lord leave with a problem in his trousers. So just relax and trust me for a moment ok?"

Hongjoong watched carefully as she sank down on her knees, her eyes looking up at him with such lust and fiery passion. Although stiffening when she palmed at his tent, he relaxed and let himself enjoy the feeling. He didn't blink at all when he saw her take out his member from its confinement, her eyes graced at seeing his well endowed length for the very first time. Hongjoong couldn't do anything but gasp and moan when her wet and hot mouth was suddenly taking him in, his head hitting the very end of her mouth. He swallowed hard and threw his head against the tree behind him, getting addicted to this new and unholy sensation that was building up inside him. A seemingly wrong yet wondrous stirring began to form on the pit of his stomach, piling up and threatening to break loose very soon. Clasping the back of her head to steady his trembling legs, he shook harshly as he felt his release spurt out of him and run down her throat. Y/N hummed in approval and satisfaction as she tasted and gulped down the creamy and delectable flavor of her lover, making sure not to let one drip go to waste.

When she pulled back and dressed him back up, Hongjoong was still in shock, eyes wide as he tried to comprehend what had just taken place. Flashing him a mischievous smirk, Y/N kissed him one last time, slipping her tongue inside his mouth to let him get a taste of himself.

"It's getting late my lord. You best be getting back before the evil spirits come out and claim your soul."

They both bursted into laughter at her teasing words, embracing each other one last time as the sun set behind them.

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Returning back from a week's journey from the capital, Hongjoong got off his horse and handed the reins over to one of the lackeys that tended and watched over the horses while the masters tended to serious matters inside the castle. The guards paid their respects, welcoming Hongjoong back and opening the doors up for him. Stepping into the foyer, he acknowledged all the other men that wandered through the halls, bidding them greetings and overall studying the atmosphere. Everyone seemed to be in confusion and full of anxiety, which made him wonder what on earth had happen while he was away.

"Hongjoong!"

He turned to find none other than Chan striding over to him, his face illuminated with a brilliant and triumphant smile. Although Hongjoong extended his hand so it could be shaken, Chan went the extra mile and actually draped one of his abnormally long arms across his comrade.

"I think we finally did it mate."

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at him, letting Chan guide him down one of the staircases that led to the torture chambers and cells they used for criminals.

"Did what?"

Chan seemed eager to share his findings.

"We might actually be on the brink of solving this long time problem that has been plaguing us with sorrow and grief."

"You mean to tell me the doctor's have finally found a cure for this disease?" Perhaps he was hoping for too much, after all, this was Chan he was speaking to.

"No! Even better mate! We captured someone-"

Hongjoong immediately tuned him out, it was too early for him to start hearing another sermon on why pagans and witches were evil and deserved to die. Besides, Chan always swore anyone he captured was the one who caused all the distressing situations they had thus encountered, but of course, there were still children dying. So Hongjoong refused to hear him gloat about finding the 'leader' of the cult. It seemed as though Chan could read Hongjoong's expression.

"I know you think I'm crazy Joong, but trust me. This time....it's for real."

Ushering the guards to let them pass through the iron barred doors, Chan and Hongjoong stepped inside the dimly lit dungeon, the crackling noise of the fire torches hung across the stone walls and the faint sound of water dripping being their only companions.

"She herself didn't even deny the fact that she's a witch. She proudly identified herself as one."

"But has she admitted to causing this plague throughout the land?" Hongjoong interrogates him.

"She adamantly denies that, but it doesn't matter. She's a professed witch and thus must receive a proper execution just like the rest of her kind. It's actually scheduled for tomorrow."

"If that's the case and her fate is sealed, why are you bringing me down here? I'll witness her death in the morning anyhow." Hongjoong had a mind to turn around and go back home, irked at the fact he had been summoned for this foolishness without even getting a chance to rest at his home.

"Well no need to get upset mate. I just thought you'd want to see her that's all. I'll tell you this, she's one of the prettiest pagans I've ever met. Her darling face could be mistaken for an angel's actually."

Crossing a corner and finally standing in front of the cell that held their captive, Hongjoong froze when the prisoner lifted her face and he saw who it was.

"No....it can't be.." His worst fear had come true as it was none other than Y/N who was being kept locked away in the prison.

"Told you she was very pretty? Took your breath away did she?" Chan let out a hearty laugh, but Hongjoong wasn't amused in the slightest bit. He peered with sorrowful and apologetic eyes at his secret lover, who throughout all this remained calm and collected, not letting a single facial muscle give away anything.

"Such a pity to know she'll die though."

Hongjoong clenched his hand into a fist, determined to punch Chan but when he met Y/N's eyes, she silently warned him not to think about doing something so foolish.

"Well now that you saw her, we best be going back now."

"No...... let me talk to her for a moment." Hongjoong stated.

Although confused, Chan didn't think too much about it.

"Suit yourself, but be careful. Don't want her putting a curse on you or something."

Waiting until the clanking of the doors signaled that they were bolted and making sure no one was within earshot of them, Hongjoong pressed himself against the bars that held him back from embracing his lovely maiden.

"Are you all right?"

Y/N looked around at her surroundings, humming softly before standing up from the wooden chair.

"Not exactly the most comfortable of places, but I've slept in much worse conditions than this. At least they're decent enough to bring me a meal every few hours." Her light chuckle and unworried demeanor was startling Hongjoong.

"Y/N, I don't know how but I'll get you out of here. Just let me run back to my place and-"

"Hongjoong." She interrupted him and stepped right in front of him, her fingers touching his hand as much as she could despite having an obstacle between them.

"You won't be successful. We'll be captured in no time and not only will I still be burned, you will suffer an even worst fate than mine. I can't...I absolutely forbid you to do anything about my situation."

Hongjoong began breathing heavily, cursing the heavens for being powerless in tearing the iron bars down and taking her away from him.

"I can't just let you die. I can't..... I love you." He sobbed, nails desperately clawing at the metallic wall as if he could tear through them.

"And I love you my lord. I always will...... but I need you to trust me now more than ever. You do trust me right?"

"With my entire soul, heart, mind and existence." He replied with no hesitation.

She smiled fondly at his answer.

"Then I need you to do one final thing for me."

Sliding up the sleeve of her dress, she pulled off a flower from the makeshift bracelet she often had on her.

"See this flower? This is called a valerian officinalis. I'm sure you've seen many of them grow near my cottage."

Recognizing the small yet sweet smelling flower, Hongjoong immediately nodded.

"I'm going to need you to go back to my place and gather about 6 of them. Boil them in a pot of water and drink its contents."

Hongjoong listened to each of her instructions, engraving them on his mind.

"And then?"

With lips curled into a wicked smile, Y/N responded:

"And then just wait for me to return to you."

Hongjoong was about to say something, ask about how it would be possible, but Y/N hushed him.

"I told you to trust me my lord, so please trust me when I say that we will see each other again. I will make sure of it. You have nothing to fear."

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The young woman took careful and meticulous steps across the dirt road she was being left upon. Her bare feet were covered in dirt and grime, matching her hands which were outstretched in front of her, wrists bound with iron cuffs that had various chains attached to it, each being pulled by 4 different men who wore black robes with hoods covering their heads. She held her head up high, refusing to lose her dignity as she trailed through the marshland around her. Her eyes were fixed on the pole that stood near the end of the road, a crucifix nailed at the very top while a pile of hay and and wood was gathered at the base of it. Her guides themselves were bearing torches that were already blazing in flames, soon to be consuming her body.

Finally coming in front of the stake, she didn't hesitate to step up and press her back against the wooden pole, further confusing the men in charge of escorting her there. Still they just opted for finishing their task as they began to tie her body to the stake with ropes, the harsh material scratching against the exposed parts of her skin. She nearly rolled her eyes as one of them began reciting some holy repertoire that was probably said at every execution. One of the men stepped up in front of her, placing his torch near the base.

"Any last words?" He asked as they always did before lighting the victims on fire.

Closing her eyes, Y/N took a deep breath, gathering all her strength before uttering out her next words:

"Ex inferno, et incendent civitatem hanc oriri me cinere."

The 4 men looked at each other in confusion, wondering what she said, but ultimately failed to comprehend her words. Following as the man in charge was doing, they all lowered their torches onto the hay and wood, immediately setting it ablaze. Stepping back from the flames, they watched as the smoke began to cover the young woman's body, the last thing they saw through all the dense fumes was the young witch's haunting face, an evil grin staring back at them, sending shivers down their bodies as they wondered if they were hallucinating or did they in fact watched her eyes shift to a dark crimson color. Before they could even ask each other if they saw the same thing, they all began screaming in agony as their bodies suddenly began burning with great intensity, raging fires consuming their flesh and bones in mere minutes until nothing but a pile of ashes were scattered about.

At a distance, back in the quiet and unsuspecting town, the villagers went about their business, all of them happy at the news that the so called leader of the cult that had plagued and tortured them for so long was finally being put to death. They began to think that finally they would no longer live under the fear of having heathens roam around disrupting their lives. All of them had jolly and gleeful smiles on their faces, the town booming with laughter and celebration.....

Their laughter was soon replaced by their frantic and terrified shouting, smiles transforming into crying and fear stricken expressions as fire began to sprout out from the ground in all directions, starting with the holy church that was the center of their town. One by one, all of the houses, from the most humble to the most luxurious and extravagant ones of them burst into flames. The raging fire showed no mercy as it consumed man, woman, children and livestock with no discrimination. All of them soon fell victim to the excruciating fiery death that they had inflicted against countless innocent victims that deserved no such fate.....

Now they had to paid for their sins, pay them in full until their ashes laid scattered all around, leaving absolutely no soul spared.

All of them burned to the ground.

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Violently sitting up, Hongjoong gasped sharply as he woke up from a very deep and dark sleep. Looking around, he realized he was still inside Y/N's quaint and exotic cottage. Seeing a sliver of light pour in, he realized he must have been knocked out for hours.

"Y/N!"

Remembering that she was to be executed that morning, he dashed out of her home, running as fast as he could through the forest in the direction of the village. He hoped he wasn't too late. He knew she told him to trust her, but he was only human and he was desperate to go investigate what had happened. Through clenched teeth, he pushed past his tired state and made it past the last monumental trees that stood near the end of the forest. He halted when he caught a glimpse of the town from where he stood:

The air was all gray, a dense cloud of smoke covered almost the entirety of the town. Through the blackened ruins he could still spot a few orange and red flames that refused to die out until it had completed its mission of destroying every last stone and brick in the area. He was completely awestruck at the scene, unable to say anything as the sun started to set behind him.

Realizing how dangerous it was to stay there, he turned back and ran inside the forest once more. He ran around as if he were a madman, with no clear direction in mind. He just went wherever his legs seemed to carry him. He finally stopped right in front of the creek that ran through the forest. He leaned against one of the sycamores that grew throughout the woodland. His panted deeply, trying to catch his breath. He was on the verge of combusting into tears when he suddenly distinguished a familiar tune echoing through the forest. He knew that eerie and haunting melody anywhere, and even blind he'd be able to follow that sweet voice right to its owner without a guide. Looking around, he searched in hopes of finding where the singer was hiding. Hongjoong began to wonder if perhaps his mind was just being delusional, but the rustling of leaves behind him let him know it wasn't the case.

"You're an awfully difficult person to find my lord."

He let out a sigh of relief at finally hearing Y/N's voice again. Turning around, he was about to hold her in his arms but he stopped himself when he saw the state she was in: there his lover stood, hair completely down while her body was completely bare to him. He swallowed hard as he found it difficult to look away as his eyes took in her perfectly sculpted breasts, slowly trailing down her body and fixing their gaze in between her legs, admiring her lady mound. His mouth was agape, his whole body stunned as he saw Y/N in her most vulnerable state for the first time. He could faintly distinguish a few gnashes on her wrists and ankles, no doubt brought upon due to the scraping of bounds that was she was subjected to. And although she cleaned most of it off, there was still some leftover soot staining parts of her body, mostly on her shoulders, knees and elbows. And yet she still looked as ethereal as ever, perhaps even more so now.

She couldn't hide her smirk as she was not oblivious about him gawking at her figure. She simply and calmly walked closer to him, taking in each reaction he made. She could feel him get aroused the closer their distance got.

"I hope the sight doesn't fall short from what you had imagined." She teased him, her hands wrapping around his neck.

"Oh trust me..... you're even more beautiful than I imagined."

Hongjoong lifted up one hand so it could caress her arm, though his movements were rather awkward and hesitant. She knew he kept questioning whether it was all right for him to touch you. Wanting to assure him it was not a crime, she pecked his lips before taking one of his hands and placing it on her chest right where her heart was.

"Do not be afraid my lord. I'm all yours and you're free to touch me as you please." She was actually longing for him to touch her, feel his hands on her most intimate parts.

Looking back into her eyes, Hongjoong pulled her against him, one arm around her waist while the other kept her chin tilted up so he may devour her mouth, using all the tongue movements he remembered her doing on him. His hand that was innocently holding her waist moved to a less chaste position as it cupped one of her tender breasts. He squeezed and pressed against her soft flesh, playing around and familiarizing himself with the outline of her erect nipples. His other hand followed suit and dropped to apply the same treatment on her other breasts, not wanting it to feel neglected from his gentle groping. Y/N gasped softly when Hongjoong pulled his mouth away from hers so he could kiss along her jaw and the top of her neck, catching her breath.

Meanwhile Hongjoong continued his exploration of her body. Slowly he inched a hand in between her legs, hesitating when it was inches away from her most intimate place, but eventually curiosity got the better of him and his fingers delved deep into her slit. He found it wet and warm, and it was fascinating to him. Dragging his fingers along her folds, he found that he could part them and touch an even softer and silky lining. Whenever he brushed or touched a certain tiny nub, he could feel her body becoming more responsive. Indeed, as he began to rub and press against that tiny organ, her lewd sounds were becoming more frequent and higher in pitch. The more he touched and probed around the forbidden parts of her body, the more his desire grew to become one with her, lust starting to take over his senses, slowly crumbling the last shred of self control he had.

"Take me." He finally said.

Being so dazed from having him touch her, Y/N fluttered her eyes open in confusion.

"I'm ready my love. Just take all of me and make me yours. I want you to defile me." His eyes burned with determination, not one shred of doubt in them.

Grinning at him, Y/N reached over to unclasp the cape that he was wearing and laid it flat on the earth beneath them. Starting with his silk shirt, she began to strip him out of his noble attire, refusing to let him help her out. She wanted to undress him as she wanted. More than satisfied with his bare body in front of her, Y/N guided him to lay down on the makeshift blanket, making sure to be as gentle and caring as possible. Hongjoong gasped when she climbed on top of him, her wet heat ever so slightly grazing upon his erect member. Taking one hand into her own, she made sure he was looking at her.

"I love you." She confessed.

"And I you." He replied in complete earnest.

Hongjoong groaned and threw his head back as his breathtaking enchantress sunk herself down onto him, effectively connecting their bodies together. It was the most intoxicating and thrilling experience he had ever felt. He didn't care if it was a mortal sin that would condemn him to an eternity in hell. He happily and gratefully allowed himself to be plunged deeper and deeper into damnation. He closed his eyes as on overwhelming wave of pleasure began to take over his body, numbing all other senses, the only thing he felt was how wonderful and bewildering Y/N's body felt on him. She too was enjoying herself, the look of amazement and passion on Hongjoong's face making her feel a sense of pride as she slowly stripped his last shred of purity from him. She loved him so dearly, she had never wanted someone as much as she wanted him. And now....she finally had him. He was all hers and only hers. He willingly and wholeheartedly gave all of himself to her with no regrets.

Feeling a fiery sensation form on the pit of his stomach, Hongjoong gasped violently as his body began convulsing and out from his member a load of semen poured out until it thoroughly coated his lover's velvet walls which had also began to tighten and constrict around him as a pool of heat rushed down Y/N's body when she felt the handsome man underneath her fill her up to the brim. Unable to resist any longer, she arched down and latched her mouth on his neck, suckling and nibbling against his petal like skin before sinking her teeth down, penetrating deep in his flesh. Hongjoong cried out softly at the stinging pain that felt so delicious at the same time.

"There now my sweet and darling lord..." Y/N lightly purred against his neck, her hot breath sending more shudders down his body.

Hongjoong felt like he was in a daze and he didn't want to come out of it. He did not feel frightened even as his gorgeous enchantress sat up once again and stared down at him intensely, her previously [insert color] eyes now a bright crimson color that burned like the depths of hell.

"You belong to me."

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maverick-werewolf · 3 years

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Vampire Fact #7 - Becoming a vampire

Remember the handy post on ways to become a werewolf in folklore vs pop culture? Here’s one of those but for vampires!

Please note, as usual, that this is not going to cover the full range of possibilities, but it will cover the most common/most popular ones. This applies to both folklore and pop culture. And of course, again, I’ll save a full list for when I write my book on vampires, you know?

Please bear in mind that a lot of these come from Romania and other regions of Eastern Europe, which are rich with vampire folklore that is some of the best-preserved that scholars currently have for study. It is essentially the baseline of what we consider “vampires” today.

Something to think about before we enter into this list, of course, is that I want to re-emphasize - and I will do this several times in this post - that vampirism was not a “disease” like it sometimes is considered today. Although vampires were often associated with disease in folklore, vampirism itself is not a disease. It is either a demonic being that is a vampire, or else it is a curse. Vampires have this in common with werewolves of pop culture today that being a vampire is some kind of infectious disease they can pass on to others (here is how lycanthropy isn’t a disease at all in folklore, ever), but that isn’t really a thing in folklore.

Appeared in folklore

Being a demon - A lot of vampires in folklore were not humans at all. They were demons taking the shape of humans (sometimes; they didn’t always maintain that shape, sometimes appearing as mist). It’s important to mention this one because I cannot emphasize enough that vampirism in folklore is generally a demon, demonic possession, or a curse, not a disease like it so often is today.

Demonic possession - Plenty of times, a vampire in folklore is the result of a demon possessing a corpse, and again, they aren’t really humans at all, per se.

Being born cursed, becoming vampire after death - There are all sorts of reasons for this (see the last entry in this “appeared in folklore” list, though even that doesn’t cover all of them). One could be born with the curse of vampirism - but that would only manifest after the person died.

Being cursed - Sometimes somebody just straight-up doesn’t like someone else and then they curse them. After that person dies, they’ll return as a vampire because of the curse. This often didn’t require some complex ritual, because in the olden days, even saying “damn you” was literally considered a curse - this is why it’s called a “curse word.” If you say that to someone, you are literally cursing that person, wishing them to be damned.

Violent life/violent death - Someone who lived a violent life - if they were a killer, if they mutilated others, whatever - and then also died a violent death, such as if they were murdered, would rise again as a vampire.

Incest/born out of wedlock - What it says on the tin. The child would be cursed and then become a vampire after death.

Incorrect burial rites - Gotta get those burial rites correct. Mess them up, and the person will rise again as a vampire. You don’t just stick a person in the ground. Extra measures might be taken to prevent the person becoming a vampire, too, like burying the corpse face-down or sticking needles or a stake in it, as mentioned in this post on weaknesses.

Ignoring traditions - You may have heard of strigoi or the similar word striga from a certain popular fantasy game - or maybe you never played the first one; you should - but it isn’t what you think. A strigoi is a spirit, and if one does not properly undertake the right funerary feasts in the right time period after a person’s death, then that person might rise again as a strigoi - in other words, a vampire of sorts. This basically falls into the same category as incorrect burial rites, but it’s slightly different because these traditions may need to be held more than once, such as once a year, in order to keep the spirit pleased.

Animals jumping over corpses/graves - Cats, dogs, horses, you name it. Animals jumping over graves was not a good thing, especially for the recently interred or those in the process of being buried. They’d probably return from the dead as a vampire.

Suicide - There are some stories in which committing suicide can result in a vampire, such as one tale of a man who hangs himself, becomes a vampire, and then still pursues his girlfriend, who spurns his advances because he’s an evil spirit now. He does not, however, want to drink her blood, because not all vampires actually wanted/needed to do that (more on that later).

Many strange and specific happenstances - These include but are not limited to: not eating garlic during life, a pregnant woman not eating salt during her pregnancy, if the mother of a child is a witch and/or uses spells and incantations, if someone lives an amoral life (such as obtaining money falsely, for instance, as well as being violent etc. as mentioned before), if a pregnant woman is seen by a vampire (and given the evil eye; a big deal in folklore)... all of these would result in the person and/or the child in question becoming a vampire after death, but they would not be born this way. All of these emphasize that being a vampire is a curse, often put upon those who do not live moral lives. Or, I guess, those who don’t eat their proper anti-vampire diet.

Did NOT appear in folklore

Almost any case of a vampire “creating” another vampire - This wasn’t really a thing in folklore. Much like how lycanthropy wasn’t considered a “contagious disease” in any fashion in folklore, being a vampire was a curse, and it wasn’t something they could pass on. Events in a person’s life, whether in or out of their control, determined whether they would become a vampire; this is especially true of Romanian folklore.

Blood transfusion - They didn’t really do blood transfusions back when - though drinking blood was a thing, actually, and not just for vampires; more on that later, though - so obviously there’s no vampire folklore where you put a vampire’s blood into someone else and then that person becomes a vampire, for so many reasons.

Drinking vampire blood - Nope. In fact, a vampire’s heart was sometimes eaten or the ashes of the heart drank by someone in order to destroy a vampire.

Biting a human - Nope. First of all, vampires in folklore didn’t really have the signature fangs to leave those fang marks that means someone will turn into a vampire. Vampires drank blood from their victims all the time and no one ended up becoming a vampire from it, really.

And that’s all for now!

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madlymiho · 4 years

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Summary: It's been a few years since you're working as Katakuri's maid, a few years he's also ignoring the blooming feelings he has for you. Unfortunately, with his soon-to-be arranged wedding coming, the possibility to confess seems more and more impossible. Though, on the Halloween Night, as you're allowed to enjoy the festivities on his island, he becomes upset and worry to see that you're not back after midnight. Determined to find you, this spooky evening might be the opportunity you have both always wished for...

Warning: angst and fluff 🍪

Words: 3901

@elliemehl @alice1290 @hanajimasama thanks for enabling this so intensely!

Katakuri: A moonlight promise (read after the cut)

“Anything else, Sir?”

Your voice sounds like the softest feather, sad for sure, but your grace is still unmatchable despite your low status in the society. You’re a perfect nobody, someone he shouldn’t even have noticed in the first place. You have been chosen because, let’s be honest, you didn’t have the slightest chance to gain a powerful position in the current society on his island. Being a house cleaner for the most powerful Sweet Commander of the Charlotte Family is an honor for most of people, and as you didn’t have the choice, at your twenty-five birthday, you joined the squad in charge of his mansion. You’re coming from a family of farmers, offering every month a bit of your lifetime to be allowed to remain here. That’s something he finds particularly despicable, but since it’s his mother’s rules, and since he would do everything to please her whim, he has never tried to save you from your cruel fate. Though, Katakuri definitely noticed you since day one. You were so clumsy and afraid to make mistakes that you dropped a plate of fresh animal cakes you brought back from the castle’s kitchen, somehow a way for you to please his everyday munchies. He could have thrown you away for the lack of attention you have been exposing that day, but deep down, Katakuri found you utterly adorable. You had something different in your eyes, a fire he wasn’t sure to understand. At first, he really thought that you were there to defy his authority, never acting awkwardly anymore, always present to answer his demands, but with time, months after months, he understood you were nothing but the purest soul around. Dedicated, soft and understanding, having you by his side could soothe his deepest whims and angers. You never looked at him with those fearful eyes anymore, only the brightest colors of your incredible devotion. He felt so lucky, his own heart perhaps appreciating the new music, heartbeats slightly increasing whenever you were entering the room with your big goofy smile, and those features full of light and happiness. However, came the day he received an order from his mother. Something he has been pushing away for years, preferring to keep a lonely existence, only to maintain the current print of the Charlotte Family over the world. Though, his mother decided differently, and her orders were always absolute. Katakuri, despite his age, despite his will to remain alone, will have to marry the daughter of this powerful smuggler in Grand Line and the New World, only to provide more technological weapons for his mother’s war. It was political, no love required in this union, but alas, Katakuri felt his heart completely shattered as soon as he received the news. The sensation increased even more when he understood you were probably aware of this information yourself. You smile changed; now it’s tinted with a deep sadness he has never seen before. It’s the kind of smile you’re wearing right now, as you’re finishing to gather his empty plates.

“No, Name, it was perfect, as always. Perhaps you should smuggle more of those peanut donuts you brought today, it was truly enjoyable.” Katakuri nods, sat against his mochi couch, his severe eyes peering down at you, his mouth fully covered one more time. You never discovered his ugly secret, at least. “I guess I’d be seeing you for dinner then. I heard Mama wanted to try a new cuisine, and there will be roasted chicken with a butternut gratin for once.” He pauses for a moment, and sighs. “Perhaps you’ll have some leftovers, if you wish. You have been working hard today, I can have a word with my own squad.”

You almost gasp to the unexpected act of kindness – a rarity when it comes to Katakuri, feeling truly embarrassed to shake your head.

“You don’t want that?” Katakuri frowns, his voice becoming slightly more concerned. “It’s a gift to have the same dinner than your master, Name.”

He feels a bit hurt in his ego, but he notices that you seem parted, and suddenly so shy to tell him something. Gosh, was he too harsh once more? He despises the fact you might be afraid of him.

“N-No, Sir, it would be an honor, as always, to stay by your side, but we have received a notification from the Whole Cake Island’s castle, and all the servants are authorized to celebrate Halloween this year…” Your voice doesn’t shake, but it’s not the most confident either. “I was hoping to…”

“I see.” Katakuri cuts it short, and dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “If it’s coming from Mama’s castle, I won’t forbid you to celebrate Halloween, an order is an order. I’ll ask one of my little sister to bring me my dinner; you can have your free time.” He pauses though, and looks back at you with the same coldness he tries to use whenever he doesn’t want to sound too concerned. “Will you be on your own, tonight?”

“No, I’m going with two maids from other houses, Perospero and Mont d’Or’s ones, Sir.” You assure with a firm nod, somehow happy to have the permission to celebrate one of your favorite tradition, but also upset that he doesn’t seem to have any plans for the night. “I won’t stay outside for too long, Sir, you have my word. I’ll be there to bring you your midnight snack, as always.”

He keeps looking at you, somehow surprised by the sudden need to justify yourself regarding your own activities of the night. Perhaps it’s a strategy to soothe his potential disappointed, if so, it seems to work, but as a man who can’t allow himself to have feelings for you, he eventually shakes his head.

“Non-sense, Name.” He says with a detached tone, stretching his legs as he has the intention to leave the room now. He can’t help but think what kind of costume you’re going to wear? How would be your makeup? All these thoughts are nothing some torture he needs to escape. “Perospero will certainly hand a lots of homemade candies and organize a big treasure hunt as always. You’ll have many things to try out there; it would be a shame if you don’t enjoy them all. Be home around midnight, but not before.”

You bite your bottom lip for a moment, and make a step forward, your hand coming up before you immediately press it back against your torso ; what are you even thinking about?

“But, what about you, Sir?” You mumble with a soft voice, cocking your head to encourage him to talk to you. “Aren’t you celebrating the Halloween festivities yourself? It’s a foggy day outside, but I’m sure this could be a good thing.”

He turns around, just to throw you one of his numerous serious look, his crimson irises remaining unreadable, even if you know him so well. He doesn’t answer to your plea, and simply walk out of the room, ignoring this intense urge he’s experiencing at this particular moment, the very which almost made him offer to spend the evening with him. Better be safe than sorry, and Katakuri imagines that there are certain things which must remain secret. No really, all of this wouldn’t be a good idea.

***

It’s past midnight and his entire thoughts are focused on one and only one person. He believes that indeed, you’re having a tremendous time outside, but for sure, he feels concerned. He saw you living the mansion with that cute and messy witch outfit, probably something you have prepared during your free time, collecting some material here and there to create your scary dress. You looked incredibly adorable and spooky, your face covered with some audacious bloody makeup for the show. Of course, he didn’t leave his room to wish you a good night; it would have been weird, especially for him, to care about his maids’ activities and their sudden gain of freedom, at least just for one night. He had his dinner, he carved a few pumpkins to put it in the garden, but something felt utterly different from usual. The sensation increased when you weren’t there to bring him his midnight snack, probably because deep down, he has been hoping you wouldn’t follow his advices and would come home sooner. Mmh, all of this is pretty upsetting for the Sweet Commander, his observation Haki working so hard that he’s anticipating the moment he would hear your light footsteps behind the door. He wishes that he would be able to sleep, but alas, even his tiredness abandoned him tonight. He growls deeply, scolding himself silently for being easily tormented by someone who’s nothing for the Charlotte Family.

After several minutes of a very unwelcomed torture upon his own mind, Katakuri decides that it’s more than enough, you should have come home sooner than this. Gathering his clothes, he dresses-up as usual, leather and spikes covering his muscular body, before he rolls his scarf around his head and heads out of his room, determined to find you, wherever you are. He didn’t expressly gave you an hour to come back home either, and surely, he’s not the one to decide, but perhaps something happened, and he doesn’t wish to learn that he could have done something rather than anticipating any kind of sorrow, right there, laid on his bed; it feels like a good excuse. Finally wandering into the almost empty streets of his island, it doesn’t take him too long to feel your presence, a few streets away, and all by yourself. So, you did lie to him earlier. You promised that you wouldn’t be alone, and yet, as he’s approaching in the dark, fog covering his large presence, he definitely notices the lack of escort around you. Another groan is earned from your carefree attitude, this very one loud enough for you to hear it. You almost jump on your feet, turning around, visible fear displayed on your pretty features.

“Who… Who’s here?” You ask with a shaky voice, trembling on your feet. “I’m…I’m working for the Charlotte Family, so you better not do something stupid!”

“And aren’t you doing something stupid yourself, Name?”

Katakuri steps out of the dark, crimson irises looking down at you with a rare intensity. It’s still foggy as hell, and you don’t have a proper look on his face, but clearly, you can sense his wrath towards you. Immediately, you flinch and lower your gaze, ready to be punished for your behavior. Maybe a night of freedom hasn’t been the best idea you had.

“Sir, I’m so sorry!” You try to explain, as you hear the familiar caster of his leather boot clicking in the dark. “I… I was supposed to go back to the mansion earlier, but I’ve lost something and I couldn’t go home without it!”

Katakuri clicks his tongue impatiently, feeling anger invading his blood.

“That’s the only excuse you think about to explain your lack of prudence?” He barks harshly, his voice echoing against the buildings. “You told me you weren’t alone! You told me your friends escorted you, was it all a lie after all? I trusted you enough to be loyal and respectful, giving you even more time to enjoy the festivities, and you’re spitting at the name of my Family so pitifully?”

“No, Sir, I promise I was not alone! My friends went home because they couldn’t stay any longer, and I wished I could fulfill my promise towards you, but I swear I had a good reason!” You look up and take a step closer, afraid but brave enough to challenge his wrath and make amends. “I lost the spoon you gave me for my birthday and I couldn’t bear the idea to walk back to you without the only precious item I have ever possessed…”

For a moment, Katakuri was about to continue his intense scolding, almost certain that you were lying to him, but as soon as you mentioned the gift he gave you, his cheeks turn into something pinker than usual. He remembers that one day you were serving him, looking a bit away, your head in the clouds... He learnt later that day that it was your birthday, and decided to offer you a silver spoon he kept from his childhood, the very one he was using during his first merienda, when he was alone and feared by everyone, founding the slightest peace in these moments of snacking. He thought you wouldn’t care about such a gift, but he had nothing better to offer you. He gulps, unsettled and flustered.

“You kept it?” He asks, cursing himself from picking those words instead of the logical ones he should think about.

Gently, you take other step forward, shaky hands coming up to press them onto his forearm. He doesn’t shift not try to escape your grip, the fog of the spooky night covering his intense blush. At least, in the middle of this mist, no one is able to see what’s happening here.

“I wouldn’t get rid of the only thing which matters to me, Sir…” You assure, before you look down, feeling dizzy to be allowed to be so close to him. “This is…This is the only thing I’ll cherish when you’d be married.”

His own stomach wrenches so hard that he has a hard time muffling his emotions, unable to fully understand the meaning of your words. It can’t be true. It’s forbidden. He’s the Sweet Commander of the Charlotte Family, the strongest, the fearless soldier, and yet, at this particular moment, he’s nothing else but a puppy. He swallows his spite, still harsh and cold, despite the fact he didn’t tell you to take off your hands.

“If you have something to say, speak loud and clear, don’t beat around the bush.” He abruptly drops, perhaps a bit too severely for the entire situation. Though, he finds himself unable to act differently, somehow worried about the words you might pronounce. “Remember your place, though, and the potential consequences of your statement. Life isn’t about the choices you wish to make, life is about the obligations you have to fulfill. I will not tolerate a childish remark regarding my wedding, nor an attempt to fight Mama’s orders.”

Softly, just so softly, your hands abandon his forearm, as you take a step backward, tears gleaming in your eyes, yet, you manage to keep a certain control upon your emotions. This sight for him is almost unbearable, tragic, and heartbreaking. He didn’t really say those words to you, in the end, but for himself. He wouldn’t have been upset at you if you wanted to confess something he’s afraid to hear, but at himself for being so eager to listen to you. He can’t fight Mama’s will. He has to be an example for his brothers and sisters.

“Nothing to state? Then, it’s time to go home. You have been wandering enough, and this spoon means nothing.” He turns around, his heart like a rock within his chest. No, he can’t. He can’t feel that way with you. “Also, I believe it’s time to thank you for your services. Tomorrow, you’ll pack to join Pudding’s island, you could serve her good there.”

Each word crushes a little bit more his already more than damaged heart, as he extends his hand to show the way back to his mansion. Under the pale light of the moonlight, and thanks to the fog surrounding you, at least he doesn’t have to witness your bitter tears. Head down, irises focused on your feet, you don’t wish to see his face anymore. The silent surrounding you is so uncomfortable that you almost believe he might hear your heartbeat, and it’s sorrowful melody. Yet as you’re lost in your thoughts, you suddenly bump into his back, Katakuri completely immobile, his arm turning into mochi to prevent any sort of attack. His Haki feels something, and it will come from the right. Before you can anticipate anything, he quickly grabs you and jumps aside, avoiding a shot of eggs in your direction. Harmless for sure, but it’s enough for you to let loose a surprised scream. Both of you can hear the chirping laughter of playful children, perhaps some orphans who love to play tricks during Halloween night. However, with all that fog, all this situation, the jack-o’-lantern floating in the air and watching you with their frightening empty eyes, the suspicious sounds and some far away laughter, you can’t help but feel definitely scared. That’s probably why you didn’t notice that you’re still trapped against Katakuri’s chest, both of your hands gripping his jacket strongly.

“I think it’s them who stole my spoon!” You gently cry, your eyes coming up, only to see that you’re still there… against him. “I’m…”

“It’s a scary night, where mischief and tricks are allowed.” Katakuri assures, this time, his large hand cupping your jawline. “And I have been harsh with you, haven’t I? Your emotions are shattered. Are you still scared, right now?”

You shake your head slowly, your bottom lip trembling under the softness of his touch, so different from his usual cold attitude. Does he really want you to go?

“No, Sir, I’m not scared when I’m with you.” You assure, before looking down. “I’m only scared when you’re not around…”

You’re opening-up one more time, because after all, this is probably the last time you’d be able to be close to him this way.

“I didn’t mean to insult Mama’s orders earlier, and I know very well my position in this world, Sir. But may the ghosts of the night witness me and give me their former strength; I’m also heartbroken to realize you’re going to get married and that you want me away by tomorrow.” You press your forehead against the bottom of his pec, and close your eyes. “Your presence soothes me more than I could imagine, and even if I’m not worthy of experiencing these feelings, they are there, Sir.” You pause, and feel that his hand moves from your jaw to the top of your head, caressing them with a light touch. “I’m not a noble nor a respectable woman, I don’t have any wealth, and my all life is nothing but servitude. I’ll be the maid of the Charlotte Family forever, trapped in my condition, unable to escape it no matter what I can wish for. But through your kindness, I’ve seen someone I fell in love with.”

He flinches to your statement, as he immediately withdraws his hand from your hair. You look up, concerned, only to see something unusual in his eyes. It’s not wrath, nor disgust… it’s fear.

“Name, you’re thinking out of your mind, because you haven’t seen my full appearance. Your feelings bloomed because of my sympathy towards you, but I’m still the monster people are afraid of.”

“Are you talking about the secret you hide behind your scarf, Sir?” You try with the best soothing voice you can offer. “I don’t believe you can be monstrous, Sir. Monsters are like those kids we met in the dark and throw eggs at you. You have the kindest soul among the Charlotte’s, your intentions are justified and genuine. You’re loyal to your family, but you have a heart, I know you enough to be certain of that. A man like that couldn’t be monstrous, no matter what a scarf rolled around his face might hide.”

A ravenous fire begins to burn within Katakuri’s chest, as he doesn’t believe he can fight those emotions until the end of time. No one has never been that kind towards him, his atrocious appearance always something deeply traumatizing for anyone who looked at him. He doesn’t wish to scare you, but at the same time, he somehow wishes to witness a real proof of your statement. Perhaps you would find him repulsive enough to run away? At least, he wouldn’t have to make that despicable choice between his heart and his mind right now. Therefore, with a slow gesture, Katakuri grips his scarf and starts to roll it off his face. Under the moonlight of this Halloween night, he would look like the most disgusting monster, but alas, this appearance would be his only one forever. Fangs finally exposed, Katakuri waits for the reaction he has been anticipating forever, his haki unable to be used as he’s not fully calm anymore. What will you say? Would you suddenly take a step backward, your fear unable to be muffled anymore? Peering down at you, he believes there won’t be any other way, any other ending for a man like him. Yet, as you’re staring at him, plastered against his torso, you don’t seem to go away.

“I don’t see any monster here…” You whisper tenderly, and smile at him. “You’re not hideous, and I don’t feel scared.”

Katakuri harshly swallows his spite, before he eventually cups both of your cheeks, the pad of his gloved thumbs caressing your skin.

“And I don’t wish you to go anywhere else but my mansion.” He answers, blushing harder than he would believe. “I don’t wish to cast you away. I was upset because of what I’m about to do.”

You frown, unsure, and he nods slowly.

“Finding good arguments to cancel this wedding, because Mama can be reasonable when she’s in the mood.” He continues, as he pulls you closer, more determined. “My wedding isn’t something as valuable as the weddings of other of my siblings. Mama wishes to have both the power and the strength to claim the pirate throne, and I shall be her weapon by her side, not a grounded husband, pleasing someone else’s whims. Mama will understand that.”

He squats down a little bit, until his eyes would be right in front of yours, his face dangerously close from yours. You have many thoughts crossing your mind, yet, not a single word is able to leave your mouth. Katakuri frowns.

“Will you stay by my side?” He asks with a weaker voice than expected, serious but flustered, his irises digging into yours. “I… don’t ever wish to lose you.”

You nod several times, both of your hands coming up to follow the curve of his jawline, silently analyzing the deep and forbidden beauty of his uncommon features. Katakuri eventually grabs one of your hand, pressing his lips onto your palm.

“If I ever need to marry someone, Name, I will do everything to marry you, and no one else.” He says, before he pulls you even closer. “But for now… I think I will just seal this promise with a kiss, if you allow me.”

Certain that his secret promise wouldn’t be busted by anyone in this foggy night, and once he’s sure you wouldn’t push him away anymore, Katakuri comes forward and presses his lips for the first time on yours, sealing this promise he has been thinking about for months already. Your love might be forbidden, unconventional and desperate, but as a man who has never known tenderness in the first place, he believes that he wouldn’t ever share this with anyone else. There, watched by the ghosts of Halloween and the gentle light of the lanterns, lips sealed, Katakuri feels like the happiest man in the world.

#one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #charlotte katakuri #katakuri one piece #katakuri #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction #one piece prompts #fluff scenario #hurt comfort scenario #one piece scenarios #one piece #queued

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five-rivers · 4 years

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Goals

Hey! @puns-are-great-and-so-is-danny! Here is your gift fic! It got a little out of hand, and it doesn’t have a super solid ending, but I hope you like it. :)

Dear Albus,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know these are trying and troubling times, both here and in Britain, and part of me hesitates to ask this of you for exactly that reason. But, as ever, circumstances leave us with few viable options.

News of what happened to Amity Park this Spring has spread far and wide at this point, so I won’t waste your time repeating what you already know. What is not common knowledge, however, is that after the dust settled, the Aurors assigned to the case encountered several irregularities, not the least of which was a disturbingly high number of completely untrained young witches and wizards.

Once news of them gets out, I have no doubt the official line will be that they simply fell through the cracks, that, unfortunately, our spells for finding young magically-gifted persons are imperfect, that the nature of Amity Park obscured them from view. This, I fear, is a lie.

I have no proof, but I believe they were deliberately removed from MACUSA files on account of their heritage. Albus, they are descended from Scourers.

Perhaps that should be obvious, perhaps you had already guessed, considering the so-called reasoning behind the attack on Amity Park, the ideals those murderers professed, but I want to make myself and my own reasoning clear. Though it shames me deeply to say it, those children will not be safe at Ilvermorny, nor, I believe, will they be at any other school on this continent. For all the time that has passed, the Barebones Incident and its repercussions are too fresh in the minds of the people.

There are seven of them. Well, seven that are of concern to me. The others have found or are seeking alternate arrangements. They have been staying at the school, for the time being. My colleagues and I have been attempting to give them a good grounding in magical basics. They would not come to you without foundations.

Albus, I am begging you, accept these students into Hogwarts. I know this is a poor time. I have heard rumors, horrible, horrible rumors, about what is happening in Britain, about what happened at Hogwarts last year, but I fear for these children’s future, for their spirits, should they be forced into a place where they will be hated simply because of who their ancestors were.

I know that even in Hogwarts they would be unable to escape that, but it would be less. Britain does not have the same history with Scourers that we do. More, for some of them, they would not be forced to walk in the same halls as the kin of their parents’ murderers.

I will understand if you refuse, but I am relying on your compassion.

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Agilbert Fontaine

Headmaster of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore looked down at the letter from his old friend and colleague and sighed, his heart heavy. Agilbert was not a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Albus knew more about the situation in Amity Park than Agilbert assumed and likely was aware of things that Agilbert himself was not.

For example, while the bulk of the group that had devastated and decimated Amity Park were indeed Magical Separatists and those looking for generations-late revenge on Scourers, their core leadership included American Death Eaters.

He was also aware of the children Agilbert had mentioned. Most of the truly astonishing number of magically inclined children and adults in Amity Park had chosen to find private tutors, go through correspondence or summer courses, or attend one of several small schools in North America that had quickly shuffled to make accommodations for them, on the condition that they hide their origins.

The seven mentioned… Well. They didn’t really have those options. Either their names were too infamous, or they had no one to stay with while they puzzled through correspondence courses. Or both.

And the names. Even here, some of them were well known.

Albus could understand why Agilbert had asked for his help.

But was it responsible to drag these children here while Voldemort was lurking in the shadows, building up his power base once again? To offer them safety he could not give?

For those students already attending Hogwarts, it was one thing, they were already involved, simply by virtue of where they were born and where they lived. But those seven, in America, they would be—

Well. Not safe, perhaps, not with their parents killed and their home ravaged by hostile magic. But… farther away from the direct line of fire.

But would they be? Beyond simply spreading fear and hate, was there another reason for the attack on Amity Park?

Albus heaved another sigh.

At times he enjoyed making decisions like this. Enjoyed power, knowledge, experience, those things people tended to mistake for wisdom, even though he had made more mistakes than anyone else he knew, and all the privileges and responsibilities that came with it, all the control over other peoples’ lives. This was a failing, a flaw, he knew, and time and time again it had come back to bite him. Karmic vengeance for being an old man who kept too many secrets.

But times like these… In times like these, he despised the choices he was forced to make.

“What troubles you, Albus? I can hear you sighing from the other room.”

Albus did not flinch or startle at the ghost’s approach and gently chiding tone. He looked up and smiled thinly at his former and present colleague. It seemed Cuthbert was having a good day. It was a pity so few students saw him at his best, and regarded his lessons as utterly boring, but Albus could never find the heart to replace him. Nor, sadly, the budget. Damn the board of directors.

In answer, Albus turned the letter to face him. Cuthbert Binns was not a member of the Order, either, but he, like every other member of the Hogwarts staff, had been informed of what had transpired at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He would understand Albus’s dilemma.

“Amity Park?” murmured Cuthbert, tapping the second paragraph. “That sounds… familiar. That—” Cuthbert broke off.

If Albus had not spent significant portions of his life surrounded by ghosts, he would not have caught the subtle change in Cuthbert’s silvery complexion.

“Perhaps you heard about the tragedy that happened there recently.” Which would be a first, even alive, Cuthbert had never really cared about anything that happened more recently than a hundred years ago, but not impossible.

“Tragedy? No.” Cuthbert shook his head. “Amity Park it’s—It is…” He trailed off, looking down at the letter, disturbed. “Albus, I have known you for many years. You have been here for many years, with all us ghosts, and… You know there are things the dead do not speak of to the living.”

Albus did know. “Are you saying Amity Park is related to one of those things?” Could this be another attempt on Voldemort’s part to defeat death? His suspicion regarding horcruxes was bad enough, what that could mean for Harry… But if that man had yet another way to stave off death…

Cuthbert dithered, and Albus wished fiercely that he could trust him enough to tell him about the Order, about Voldemort’s plans, to impress upon him how important this was, how vital that Albus know.

But he couldn’t. It would just take one bad day, and one misplaced question from a student related to someone unfortunate, and everything would come tumbling down.

No. Albus could not push him.

“I—I must go,” said Cuthbert, halfway through the wall. “I have to look into something. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He was not.

Albus had still not made a decision on Agilbert’s letter the next night. He had consulted Minerva, Severus, and the other teachers who were also in the Order on the matter, and had distracted himself with other, arguably more important, matters.

(The eyes on Number Four Privet Drive, the movements in and out of the Malfoy residence, the horribly dangerous games Severus was playing, the master schedule for the next school year, the still-empty Defense Against the Dark Arts post, extra protections on Hogwarts’ boundaries, how to keep the Order safe…)

But he shouldn’t put something like this off for much longer.

It would be much easier to deny Agilbert’s request. As tragic as the seven students’ circumstances were, they weren’t his responsibility, and he had so many.

Would you feel the same if the attackers had been Gellert’s people?

They’re children. Like your students. Like Adri—

Albus closed his eyes and forced the tiny and vicious voice away, out of his mind.

“Sir Nicholas wants to speak to you,” said one of the portraits.

Surprised, Albus turned his head to face the image of his predecessor. “Of course. Could you tell him he can come in?”

A few minutes later, the Gryffindor ghost floated through the wall. “Hello, Albus,” he said, the outlines of his figure crisper than they usually were, and continued before Albus could greet him, “I am sorry to interrupt you like this, but is it true? Seven students from Amity Park?”

“Cuthbert told you?”

“He told all of us,” said Sir Nicholas, shrugging in a way that made his head roll unsettlingly. “You should accept them.”

Albus raised his eyebrows.

“There is a certain element of risk involved,” the ghost’s voice was careful, “but if they come to Hogwarts, there is a possibility that you may gain a powerful ally, and that…” Here, Sir Nicholas hesitated. “Certain ancient wrongs might be righted.”

“I suppose it is that second the ghosts are interested in?” asked Albus, both curious and, despite himself, amused.

Sir Nicholas gave him a gentle smile. “Do not imagine that we are careless of your struggles, Albus, but many of us were long dead before you were born. We care, but… sometimes the picture in front of our eyes is not the same as the one before yours.”

That was reasonable.

However.

“Can you give me any more detail?” asked Albus, hopefully.

“I’m afraid not,” said the ghost, drifting backwards.

The next letter from Agilbert was much thicker and contained the records of seven new Hogwarts students.

The wand turning in his fingers was made of pear wood. Not that Danny could tell, just by looking, but the wandmaker, who had accompanied her wares to Ilvermorny, had been very talkative, even when Danny had… not.

Pear wood, cut from a tree that had grown up through a chain-link fence on the wandmaker’s property. She had meant to cut it out, she said, but by the time she had gotten around to doing so, there had been bowtruckles in it, and she wasn’t about to cut down a good wand wood tree.

Danny still wasn’t entirely sure what bowtruckles were to be honest.

The wood of the wand was normal. The core, apparently, was not. It was hair from a magical creature, which most wand cores were, but the wandmaker had cheerfully admitted to having no idea what the hair was from. It had shown up in her workshop one day, in a little box, black and white, in neat little bundles.

Danny had suspicions about where it had come from.

Suspicions that had been exacerbated by the fact that both Sam and Tucker had been ‘chosen’ by wands with the same core.

Anyway, Danny had liked the wandmaker, even if he thought she was a bit weird, for using components that just showed up out of nowhere in her work.

(She reminded him a bit of Mom.)

Danny wasn’t sure why he was thinking of her. It had been months since then. But he was feeling lonely, even though his friends were just in the next room, and Jazz was here, and maybe she was the closest he would let his mind get to…

To…

“If you keep doing that,” said Jazz, “you’re going to put your eye out.”

Danny glanced over at her. There was an east-facing window behind her, and the sun was shining through her shoulder, lighting her up like stained glass.

“If they catch you in color, they’re going to have questions.”

Jazz rolled her golden eyes, but the color drained out of her, leaving her ‘properly’ silver and gray. “If they actually listened, instead of dismissing everything weird in Amity as untrained magic acting up, then they wouldn’t need to have questions.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t, and I don’t think they’re going to. So, considering what we have to do…”

“We need all our advantages. You don’t have to tell me again,” said Jazz. She pulled a face. “Well, you did, actually, I guess. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” muttered Danny. “You only died a couple months ago. It takes time to recalibrate.”

“Mm,” said Jazz, sticking her head through the windowpanes and looking down. She pulled back. “Your escort’s coming up.”

“Oh? Yeah?”

“Or at least someone. It’s hard to tell who, what with the hats and all…”

It was time to go, then. Danny gathered his things and joined the others in the common area.

Hours later, as the sun was setting, nine Americans stepped out of a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic. Seven were students. One was a very haggard chaperon. The last was a ghost whom aurors and representatives from the Department of Spectral Affairs hadn’t quite been able to dissuade from haunting her brother.

Such was life. Such was death.

“Alright, kids,” said the chaperon, chivying them towards a central area. “We just have to go through customs, and then we can find a place to relax until the representatives from Hogwarts get here.”

“I thought we already went through customs,” protested Dash.

“Yeah,” said Paulina. “The American side. To make sure we weren’t smuggling anything out. Now we have to go through the British side, to make sure we aren’t smuggling anything in.”

“Smuggling isn’t really the main issue,” said the chaperon, “but, yes. MACUSA knows you aren’t in the states anymore, and we have to make sure the Ministry over here knows you are, so you can comply with their laws and such. Oh, and so you can get the Trace, but that isn’t important.”

“The Trace?” asked Sam, doubling her word count for the day. Ever since the attack, she had been rather taciturn.

“It’s how they keep track of underage magic over here,” explained the chaperon. “MACUSA phased it out a few years ago. It isn’t very reliable, and besides, recent studies show that magical persons of any age can use magic accidentally, and there’s no good way to tell if there is a magical adult nearby, so…” She gave herself a little shake. “But it’s the law here, and it doesn’t matter. You’ll be at Hogwarts the whole time, anyway.”

“You mean they’ll be tracking us?” asked Danny, trying to keep the alarm from his voice. That could be… problematic. Considering what he was really here for, and all.

“Not you in particular,” said the chaperon, snagging Tucker by the back of his shirt before he could make a detour to investigate a guarded cart of ominously sparking electronics. She pulled him back. “It’s my understanding that every child with the trace on them shows up as a dot on a map, and the dot changes color if magic is performed near them. Some of the more sophisticated versions can determine what kind of magic, but, well… it isn’t like they ever know which dot belongs to which person, so unless you’re living with all no-maj family members—They call them muggles, here, I think—in a particular house, it is very difficult for them to determine who did what. I’d tell you more, but this isn’t my area of expertise. Perhaps the customs agents will know more? You should ask when we go through…”

Danny began to tune her out. He caught Sam’s eye, then Tucker’s, and they all nodded at each other a little bit. Not that they had a plan or anything, but sometimes it helped to know that other people also found a situation to be sucky.

Where would the Minister of Magic be in all this mess, anyway? Danny let his eyes rove over the hall. There was no guarantee that he was even here today, and Danny wasn’t to the point where he wanted to reveal himself. He had been given lots of instructions, but one of them had been to keep himself safe. Clockwork had even said it was a priority.

Best to stick to letters, for now. Even if none of them had been answered, yet.

They reached the long, winding line that was customs, had their luggage gone through yet again. Tucker lost another PDA, and Danny had to wonder how many more he had hidden. The American side of customs had done a pretty good job of finding them. Sam got taken aside for questioning, because some of her goth paraphernalia had a passing resemblance to ‘Dark’ objects. Star had to explain her medications. Valerie set off some sort of magical metal detector, and the customs agents started arguing about what had caused it. No one had found out about her suit yet.

Meanwhile, Danny was sent to another table, to fill out forms for Jazz. Again. Because, for reasons Danny didn’t fully understand, even with everything Clockwork and the other Ancients told him, wizards thought they could control and regulate what ghosts did and where they went.

Danny did not particularly care for wizards, as a group. The paperwork—The stupid, pointless paperwork, because Jazz was going to do what she wanted and no one would stop her, he’d make sure of it—made him angry. A lot of things made him angry, lately, when they didn’t just make him depressed or sullen.

“Breathe, Danny,” said Jazz, leaning down, next to his ear. “The language in this is stupid, but I don’t mind being called names. We both know they’re wrong, and what they think isn’t important anyway, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, forcing his muscles to relax. He finished the paperwork.

They passed through the last customs barrier together, and soon found themselves in a large atrium with a large, extremely gaudy, gold fountain in the center.

Now, Danny had to admit, he had only the briefest of encounters with house elves and goblins, and none at all with centaurs, but he couldn’t imagine that the look of adoration on their faces was at all accurate. At least not for the species as a whole.

He tried to imagine the statue with a ghost in it, with a half-ghost in it, and he just—

Yeah. No.

Wizards.

Or, at least, these wizards. Whatever.

They found a bench off to one side, to wait for the Hogwarts representatives. Danny had to wonder how they’d find them. Would they hold signs? Seemed probable. Everything in the ‘wizarding world’ seemed to be stuck fifty years back in time, if not more.

Or, maybe, the chaperon knew who they were meeting and would wave at them. Like she was doing now.

Okay, so, Danny had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t coming up with random prejudices. Ancients. If his first encounter with the supernatural had been those people in cloaks showing up out of thin air and starting to kill people, he’d probably never be able to pull himself out of that mindset.

Not all wizards were terrible. Like the wandmaker. She was okay.

He took the time to assess the two witches who had come to pick them up. They were opposites of each other, at least in appearance. One was tall, thin, and severe, almost sharp. The other was short and round and sort of soft around the edges. The only areas in which they demonstrated similarity were their age and apparent gender.

“Alright, kids. This is Professor McGonagall,” she gestured to the taller woman, “and this is Professor Sprout. They’re the heads of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively. Minerva, Pomona, these are Dash Baxter, Daniel Fenton, Tucker Foley, Valerie Grey, Samantha Manson, Paulina Sanchez, and Star Thunder.”

“And Jazz,” said Danny, annoyed that his sister had, once again, been left out.

“Hey,” said Jazz. “Nice to meet you.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “We will be taking you to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies for the year before we go to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah,” said Star, eyes tracking a flock of apparently animate paper airplanes, “we know.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment. “Do you want to come with us, Cerise?”

“No, I have a few other things to do on this side of the Atlantic. That’s why they sent me. Have a good time in Diagon Alley, kids, it’s a historic place!”

Danny had to wonder about goblins. Did they just… really like banks, or were they forbidden from holding jobs elsewhere? Or effectively forbidden by prejudice? Because, thus far, he had only seen goblins when changing currency. ‘No-maj’ money to the denominations used by American wizards, and now from that to the infinitely more confusing British ‘galleons.’

It would probably be rude to ask.

Maybe he could find a book…

But were these people self-aware enough to write about stuff like that? He shook his head. Prejudice, prejudice… He barely knew anything about any of these people, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions prematurely.

Not that he didn’t already know several unsavory things about their system of governance, thanks to the Ancients. And their not-so-little terrorist problem. And the fact that they thought erasing people’s memories with a spell that could cause long-term brain damage was A-Okay.

Yeah. But that didn’t mean all of them were bad. Just that their government sucked. Which was true for almost all governments, so it didn’t mean anything.

McGonagall and Sprout were very efficient as they went through the shops, giving the impression that they had done this, or something like this, many times before. They did not allow detours, despite the many, many distracting things on display on the street and in the windows. Professor Sprout, however, kept up a running commentary on what things were, so it wasn’t too frustrating.

About halfway through the shopping trip, they stopped at the place that sold uniforms. Sprout stayed with them, while McGonagall left to go get other supplies. It was an experience. Other than his jumpsuit, Danny had never had any clothing fitted specifically for him before.

The fitting made him… nervous.

The tape measures and needles flew close to his skin. The seamstress who had been assigned to him also kept touching him, which was part of her job, and it wasn’t invasive or anything, but still. Also, there were a lot of other teens, and even some preteen kids, in the store, getting their uniforms, and they were all staring.

What they were staring at wasn’t the same from person to person, Paulina and Jazz seemed to be the biggest targets for whatever reason, but it was still staring. The parents waiting with their kids were staring as well, and Danny started to fidget. Which meant that he got stabbed by the needle a few times. Which wasn’t fun.

But eventually that was over, and they were on their way to Hogwarts.

Considering that Agilbert had tried to compress years’ worth of magical education into the space of a few months for these students, the results were remarkable. True, with one notable exception, none of them were on a fifth-year level in Transfiguration, but Minerva didn’t feel the need to put them all in first-year or remedial classes, either.

She could only hope they did as well in their assessments in other subjects. They would have a hard enough time figuring out schedules for these seven, without having to account for them bouncing across year levels.

She picked up the written assessment from the one student she would be accepting into fifth-year Transfiguration. His penmanship was shaky, none of them had quite mastered writing with quills, and his grasp of the theory behind the spells was incomplete, but it was better than some. She tried not to roll her eyes as she thought of Crabbe and Goyle.

As a teacher, she should be above that. Alas.

Mr. Fenton did have some insights in his essay questions that were truly extraordinary for a person who didn’t even know magic existed at the beginning of the year. Perhaps they had another Hermione on their hands, although he didn’t give off the same air as she did. Or he had spent the summer focusing only on Transfiguration. Or Mr. Fenton had a singular talent in Transfiguration. Regardless, gifted and motivated students were always a pleasure to teach.

Minerva gathered her papers and left to meet Filius, who had tested the students before her. She was tempted to go look in on them now and see how the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was handling her first teaching experience but suppressed the urge. She would see them, and, sadly, Delores Umbridge, at lunch in only an hour.

Which was why she was so surprised to find the children in a hall so far away from Delores’ room.

Then she reminded herself that, appearances aside, these were not fifth-year students. They had no experience navigating the castle.

“Are you lost?” she asked.

The students exchanged glances. “Uh, sort of?” said Miss Sanchez, twirling a curl of hair around her fingers. “We weren’t sure if we should try to find Mr. Snape, or if we should go to the lunch hall.”

“Professor Snape,” corrected Minerva, mildly. “Did you already finish Professor Umbridge’s assessment?”

“She didn’t give us an assessment,” said Miss Manson, angrily.

Minerva’s eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” said Mr. Fenton. “She basically said that she was doing the same curriculum for everyone, so she didn’t need to. So, we were wondering if we should move on to, um, potions? Potions. Or if we should go to lunch, or just hang out, or what.”

“Professor Snape is unlikely to be expecting you at this point,” said Minerva, feeling a headache growing behind her eyes. What was Delores thinking? The same curriculum for all years? For eleven-year-olds and eighteen-year-olds? There would be riots. Or at least hexes. “I can take you to the Great Hall.”

“Thanks, Ms. McGonagall,” said Mr. Foley. And what was that he was hiding in his robes? How many cursed muggle machines had he smuggled in?

Minerva sighed. Honestly, it was probably harmless, though she possibly should speak to Charity about it. “Professor McGonagall.”

“Sorry,” said Mr. Fenton. “It’s just… hard to adjust.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I suppose it is,” she said. “This way, children.”

Jazz floated through a wall, carefully avoiding the paintings. Their inhabitants weren’t quite ghosts, from what she and Danny could tell, but they also weren’t not ghosts.

It hadn’t taken her long last night to find the actual wizarding ghosts. They’d been expecting her, in more ways than one. But they had been weird. Empty. They didn’t have any ectoplasm in them, and the intensity that was a part of every other ghost Jazz had ever met, Danny included, was absent.

Clockwork and the Lady had warned them about that, before sending Danny, and by extension Jazz, Sam, and Tucker, off on his mission. Jazz just hadn’t quite believed it.

Wizarding ghosts weren’t made of passion, need, want, duty, or even stubbornness. They were made of fear. Fear, by itself, didn’t hold ectoplasm well, especially not fear of death. Wizarding ghosts might as well be mere imprints for all the power they had.

From the beginning, Jazz had been less than enthusiastic about pretending to be one of them. Now, she was even less so.

It wasn’t their fault, though. At least, it wasn’t entirely their fault. None of the ghosts here were around back when the Ancients and the wizards of the day came together and put their names to the Tenebris Carta, and they were trying to make amends. It sounded like they hoped the old treaty could be renegotiated, or that they hoped Danny and Jazz could get them an exception.

Jazz didn’t hate them. Didn’t dislike them or anything, and Danny would probably try to help them, so long as they didn’t turn evil or anything. That was just the kind of person Danny was.

She just needed more time to… adjust to them. And the paintings. Because wow.

“Ah, Miss Fenton!”

Jazz twisted herself over, mid-air. “You can call me Jazz, if you want, Sir Nicholas.”

The silvery ghost smiled. “If you insist. We’re going down to the Great Hall, to introduce ourselves to your companions over lunch. I was wondering if you would like to join us.”

“Sure,” said Jazz, descending to float by the other ghost. “But who do you mean by ‘we?’”

“All the castle ghosts,” said Sir Nicholas, “and possibly Peeves, though he won’t be invited.”

“Peeves?”

“The poltergeist. He isn’t really a ghost. At least… he’s not a ghost like us.”

“Mhm,” said Jazz. “Should I look forward to meeting him, or should I be very afraid?”

“Ah, neither, I suppose? He tends to play pranks, but he never does anything terribly dangerous, and he couldn’t hurt you if he tried.”

“Well,” said Jazz, “as long as he doesn’t mess with my brother, we’ll probably get along just fine.” She flexed her hands to disperse the pale green flames that had started to creep up her fingers. “If he does, I’ll tear him apart.”

“Speaking of your brother, do you have any guesses as to which house he will be joining?”

“I wasn’t under the impression it was a choice,” said Jazz.

“It isn’t, exactly. Students are sorted into the houses with, well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but houses are selected based on a student’s personality, aptitudes, and values. Normally, if they came in as first-years, they would be sorted on the first, but given the circumstances, they’ll be sorted tonight. I’m rather hoping to have a few new students for my house.”

Jazz grinned, detecting a note of competition. “And what does your house look for? Gryffindor, right?”

“Bravery,” said Sir Nicholas, proudly. “Considering your brother’s accomplishments, I’m looking forward to seeing him join.”

“He is the bravest person I know,” said Jazz.

Several dozen ghosts phasing through the walls didn’t just set off Danny’s fight-or-flight response. Sam readied her wrist-lasers, while Tucker grabbed Danny’s wrist and started hunting for a place to hide Danny so his transformation wouldn’t be noticeable. Dash and Star took cover under one of the tables. Paulina pulled out her wand. Valerie materialized a hand blaster.

It wasn’t entirely clear what weapon went off first, but it didn’t really matter. The end result was chaos.

“Oops,” said Jazz.

“I am so, so, sorry,” said Jazz, hovering over Danny. Literally.

“It’s fine,” said Danny. “Really.”

“No, it isn’t. I should have realized how everyone would react. I should have told them to stop it, or something.”

“They were already on their way through the walls when you got there, weren’t you?” asked Tucker, swinging his legs back and forth as he sat on the end of the hospital bed.

No one had been seriously injured, but a few tables had been exploded before the teachers had calmed everyone down and confiscated the ‘bizarre muggle weapons.’ On the other hand, everyone had a number of inconvenient scrapes and bruises that Madam Pomfrey insisted on taking a look at.

“Still,” said Jazz. “I know all of you have PTSD from repeated ghost attacks and those people, I should have known what that would look like to you.”

“Er,” said Dash. “It really is fine.”

“Yeah,” grunted Valerie, which was surprising.

Outside of ‘Team Phantom,’ none of the others interacted with Jazz very much. They didn’t seem to know how. Valerie, however, outright avoided Jazz most of the time.

Which, well. Danny wasn’t about to call her behavior reasonable, but it was definitely in-character. This seemed like a good sign, though.

“Yes, dear,” agreed Madam Pomfrey. “It isn’t your fault. We adults should have said something before things got out of hand like that.” She waved her wand back and forth over Star’s prominent black eye, and the bruise just… vanished. Like Star had never been hurt.

Danny inhaled slowly. It wasn’t the first time he had seen magical healing—The aurors who had arrived a few hours after the attack on Amity Park had done a great deal—but if there was anything of magic that Danny wanted to learn, it was that. And anything protective.

“Is there a class for that?” he asked.

“For what?”

“Healing.”

“Yes, it’s an elective,” said Madam Pomfrey. “Though it does have a few required courses. Perhaps you will be able to take it next year?”

Danny swallowed down envy and nodded. “Yeah, I guess we aren’t going to have time for electives, for the most part.”

“You may be surprised. Now, I think you’re all set, unless you’re hiding something from me?”

The students shook their heads.

“Good. I believe Professor Snape is expecting you?”

“Did that seem… weirdly easy to you?” asked Sam.

Danny thought about it for a second. “Not the ‘what does this plant or animal part do’ questions,” he said, finally, “but the practical part of it? Yeah. It was just… cooking. Really fiddly cooking, but still cooking.”

“Speaking of,” said Tucker, “how did you get by the parts where you had to use animal body parts.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” said Sam. “I just skipped those. I’m pretty sure I failed, judging by the look on Professor Snape’s face. My end result was pretty nasty-looking. It smelled bad, too.”

“You’re the reason we were stuck in an unventilated basement breathing in burnt hair fumes?” asked Paulina.

“Yeah. I mean, it didn’t smell like burnt hair to me, but probably.”

Paulina sighed. “I have to hand it to you, girl, you stand by your convictions.”

“I don’t think it’s unventilated,” said Star, contemplatively. “I wasn’t really paying attention, but there was definitely movement in all the, uh, vapors, or whatever. Professor Snape totally needs a better teacher face, though. Like, does he just have the one expression, or what?”

“No, no,” said Sam. “The look he gave me when I turned in my disaster was way more pronounced.”

“Still needs more than disdain and mega-disdain,” said Tucker. “Even Lancer had a wider range.”

“Come on, guys,” said Danny, “he can’t be much more than, what, thirty? He has time to develop more emotions.”

“Yeah,” said Valerie, flatly. “Give it a couple more years, and maybe he’ll nail down hyper-disdain.”

This surprised a snicker out of everyone. Almost everyone.

“Uh, guys?” said Dash. “I think I might have been the one who made it smell like burnt hair. What was it supposed to smell like?”

“I’m so glad I don’t need to breathe,” said Jazz.

“Oh my gosh, Jazz, that’s way too soon.”

“What do you think?” asked the hat.

The hat.

Danny could understand the paintings. He could almost understand how the paintings worked, even. They had the shapes of people who had once lived, their image, their likeness, and had by virtue of magic snagged a piece of their soul as they left this world.

But a hat. Who would try to give a hat sentience? And how? Was the thing possessed by an extraordinarily unfortunate ghost?

“Um,” said Danny, shaking off the shock. “I liked it!”

“Sorry,” said Star, “I’m just a little surprised. Are you really a… a hat?”

“Yes, I am the Sorting Hat! It is my job to divine which of our four houses each of you should belong to. Weren’t you listening?”

“We were,” assured Star, “it’s just…”

“You’re a hat,” finished Tucker. “Did you used to be a wizard or something?”

“Goodness, no, I was Godric Gryffindor’s hat! He enchanted me.”

“So, are you like a computer program?” continued Tucker. “Are you an AI?”

“No Skynet,” muttered Sam.

“Why do you guys keep thinking I’m going to make Skynet?”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. The other teachers were all present, except for the headmaster and Professor Umbridge. Their absences had not been explained.

“When you hear your name,” said McGonagall, “please come up and put the Sorting Hat on. It also usually helps if you sit down on the stool. Once the hat has determined your house, take it off, and put it down for the next person to use.”

Alright. That sounded easy enough. Danny wasn’t quite sure why such a big production was being made of this. A few comments from the teachers and the ghosts—not that Danny had talked to them very much, this was the first full day they’d been at the school—suggested there was some kind of rivalry between the houses, but it couldn’t be that bad. It was school.

Except Casper High had its nasty cliques, too, and he could just imagine how school-sanctioned cliques would work out. Especially if they were backed up by centuries of history and a magic personality test.

Fun.

Not.

He hoped he, Sam, and Tucker would all be in the same house. And that Dash wouldn’t revert to being a bully as soon as other students were added to the mix. And that… Oh, he hoped a lot of things, but he would be thankful if the ‘school’ part of this whole ordeal was as easy and drama-free as possible.

After all, he had other things to worry about.

“Baxter, Dash,” said McGonagall, evenly.

“Good luck, man,” said Tucker, holding up his thumbs. Everyone mirrored him.

Dash looked very strange, sitting on that small stool, but he wasn’t on it for more than a second before the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was very loud. Dash returned to the bench with a confused expression on his face.

“Fenton, Daniel.”

Danny stood up slowly. He had expected something more like a conversation. Was this a mind reading hat? Was the ‘take a peek inside your head’ bit literal?

Ugh, this was going to be a pain. Good thing he had a lot of practice in compartmentalizing.

“Ah, a burgeoning occlumens!” said the hat in its warm voice. “How unusual.”

“I have no idea what that means,” said Danny, mildly.

“Oh, I’m sure your teachers will explain it to you. I won’t take the pleasure from them.”

The voice was, Danny decided, more than half in his head, which was… Unsettling. Voices in his head usually either meant mind control, some jerk with telepathy, or someone trying to overshadow him. He didn’t like this. He really didn’t like this.

“No need to be so nervous,” said the hat. “I keep everything strictly confidential.”

“Forgive me if I’m not reassured,” said Danny.

“Hmf. In any case, you have traits that would do you well in any of the houses. Perhaps not Ravenclaw, though. As clever as you are, you are behind academically. You need a more nurturing environment, I imagine. As for the others… You are brave. You love your friends. You’d do anything for them?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.

“And there’s… something else you need to do?”

Danny was silent.

“I can’t see it very clearly, but it is an important task?”

Danny shrugged.

“A goal.”

“Sure.”

“I think, then, the choice is between the badger and the snake,” said the hat. “But I believe the decisive phrase here is ‘do anything.’ Therefore, you will be SLYTHERIN!”

Wow. Even bracing himself, that had been loud.

Danny stood up and carefully deposited the hat back on the stool. He noticed on his way back to the bench that more than one teacher looked flabbergasted, and several spectating ghosts looked disappointed. Almost crushed. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, he was a celebrity among the undead, no he couldn’t be in two houses at once. They should have prepared themselves.

Not to mention that, as important as education was, it was somewhat secondary to his true goals here. Which the ghosts partially knew about.

“Foley, Tucker.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Filius later that evening when all the teachers (sans Umbridge) gathered for a drink.

“I did say you would find the results surprising,” said Sybill, smugly.

“Two muggle-born American transfer students in Slytherin,” said Filius, wonderingly. “I didn’t expect to get any of them for Ravenclaw, but Slytherin?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t denigrate my house, Filius,” said Severus.

The diminutive teacher waved his hand. “Oh, that’s not my intention. But you have to admit, it seems like a strange choice.”

“They aren’t really muggle-born, though, are they?” asked Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, opting for tea instead of wine. “I’m not sure about the Sanchezes, but the Fentons were quite prominent, back in the day, weren’t they? At least, one of their ancestors wrote the first English book on new world magical creatures.”

“Muggle-borns and half-bloods are chosen for Slytherin all the time,” said Severus, annoyance clearly increasing. “Not, perhaps, as often as for the other houses, but it does happen regularly. You don’t have to be so shocked.”

“It’s nothing against Slytherin,” assured Pomona. “We were just expecting them to get split between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. American stereotypes in play, I suppose.”

“Mm,” said Septima, who was doodling equations on the back of her wrist. “On my end, my thought process was more that they wouldn’t do well trying to play catchup in Ravenclaw, and they wouldn’t have the ambition and drive to hold their own in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat disagreed.”

“Evidently,” said Severus. He didn’t look especially pleased, but then he never did.

“Better you than me,” said Filius, after a few minutes. “I can’t imagine it will be easy integrating them.”

Minerva, who had three of the students, laughed, “You aren’t getting out of it that easy, Filius. They still have charms. How did they do, by the way? We never really got around to discussing it.”

“None of them were brilliant,” said Filius. “But they have promise. I was wondering what you all thought about doing an accelerated class for some of them, to get them to a higher year-level.”

Being on the Hogwarts Express without Ron at his side felt wrong. Sure, he wasn’t entirely alone, Ginny was with him, and Hegwig, but it felt different. He felt exposed.

Although, that might have had something to do with all the people staring and pointing at him.

The Daily Prophet had spent most of the summer convincing everyone he was a lying show-off. The only things that had really competed with the ‘Harry Potter is delusional’ articles were the ‘haha, America is going to hell in a handbasket, aren’t we glad we aren’t them?’ articles.

(Harry wouldn’t have even cast a glance at the second, except that he and the others had overheard some of the Order members mention Death Eaters had been behind the attack on the muggle town. Even so, reading them made him feel grimy.)

They had to go all the way to the end of the train to get away from the unfriendly eyes, and that’s where they found Neville.

“Hi, Harry,” he said, out of breath. “Hi, Ginny… Everywhere’s full… I can’t find a seat…”

Ginny squeezed past him to look at the compartments behind him. “What are you talking about? There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here—”

“I don’t want to disturb her—”

“Don’t be silly, she’s alright.” She slid the door open and pulled her trunk in. “Hi, Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats?”

It took a couple minutes to get situated in the compartment, during which time Harry tried not to stare at Luna Lovegood very much. The blonde girl was surrounded by an aura of almost impenetrable oddness.

“Have a good summer, Luna?” asked Ginny.

Luna opened her mouth to answer, then closed it, frowning. “No, actually. My father had some friends in Amity Park. The town in America, you know.” She turned her head slightly. “You’re Harry Potter.”

“I know I am,” said Harry.

The four of them then proceeded to have a fairly enjoyable conversation, right up until Neville’s mimbulus mimbletonia sprayed them all with rancid sap and Cho Chang opened the compartment door.

Cho Chang who he had a crush on.

Yeah.

Harry had a strong desire to curl up and die.

Ron and Hermione did not turn up for over an hour, by which time the food trolley had come and gone, and most of the bounty acquired from it had been eaten.

“Oh, you have food. Brilliant,” said Ron, taking a Chocolate frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. “You won’t believe what happened.”

“Malfoy’s Slytherin prefect?” asked Harry. The fear had been buzzing in the back of his head ever since Ron and Hermione had gotten their badges.

“Well, yeah,” said Ron.

“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” said Hermione.

“But that’s not the real surprise,” said Ron, oddly dismissive. “You remember all those articles in the Prophet? Not the ones about you. About that town, in America?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, some of kids who survived were wizards.”

“And witches,” added Hermione. She pulled Crookshanks into her lap.

“Well, apparently their ministry didn’t think they’d be safe over there, so they sent them here. Seven of ‘em.”

“What? They think it’s safe here?” In Hogwarts, maybe it was, except Harry had been snatched away even with all eyes on him, in the middle of a heavily attended competition. “With Voldemort on the loose?”

Everyone flinched.

“Well, that isn’t exactly being publicized,” said Hermione. “Not—Not in the right way. Besides, none of them knew about magic before this summer. They’re all our age, though. It must have been a shock. Especially after losing their families like that.” She shuddered. “We’ve been asked to help them acclimate. That’s why the meeting ran so long.”

“Are they in Gryffindor, then?” asked Luna.

“They’re sort of spread out,” said Hermione. “They’re in all the houses but Ravenclaw.”

“And I’m still not sure how they got put into Slytherin if they’re muggleborn,” said Ron, who had tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It doesn’t make sense,” he complained.

“Merlin was muggleborn,” said Luna. “He was a Slytherin. I’m sure there were others.”

Ron pulled a face.

(Harry thought about Voldemort—About Tom Riddle and his muggle father.)

“Anyway,” said Hermione. “We have three of them. Hufflepuff and Slytherin each have two.”

First Death Eaters in America, and now Slytherins from there? Harry shook himself internally. No, it probably didn’t mean anything.

“We probably won’t see much of them,” said Ron. “They’re taking mostly remedial classes. First and second year stuff.”

“Say,” said Luna, “do you know who the prefects are for the other houses?”

“Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” said Hermione.

“And Ernie Macmillian and Hannah Abbot for Hufflepuff,” added Ron. “You know, other than helping keep track of the younger kids and patrolling corridors every so often, there’s not really much we’re supposed to do as prefects. From how Percy talked about it, I always sort of thought there’d be more.” Then he grinned. “We can give punishments out if people are misbehaving. I can’t wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something…”

Predictably, this set off Hermione.

“There’s nothing else about the Americans?” asked Draco, frowning. “I’m not sure how we’re expected to ‘help them acclimate’ with so little information.”

The Head Girl rolled her eyes. “You’re expected to talk to them,” she said. “Considering that they’re real human beings and all. They’ve been through a lot, apparently, and I can appreciate them not wanting to have it spread around.”

Unspoken was the ‘do you?’ at the end of her sentence. Draco let his lip curl. People from other houses were always so eager to think the worst of Slytherin when all they were trying to be was logical.

“I’ll do that, then,” said Draco, stepping out of the prefects’ carriage. He needed to find Crabbe and Goyle. Annoying. As much as he was their leader, and he watched them, they were also there to watch him and—

(Draco chose not to think of the people who had arrived at Malfoy Manor over the Summer, of the things he’d seen.)

(When he was quite young, he’d read a book about muggle Germany during the time of Grindelwald, and how Grindelwald had subtly influenced things in that country. He’d always been struck by the use of informants, of how everyone had been convinced to watch one another and report those who stepped out of line. He found he could appreciate it even more now that he was inside a similar trap.)

But the Americans. It was so odd. They couldn’t have any lineage to speak of. Not if they were living like muggles in some backwater town.

… some backwater town the Dark Lord had seen fit to destroy.

… ‘Fenton’ sounded vaguely familiar.

… Perhaps ‘Sanchez’ was from a Spanish pureblood line.

Draco would have to do research. He was good at that. But whatever he found, he’d have to keep an eye on the Americans.

If nothing else, it would be good to have friends overseas.

“We’ll be in different dorms after this,” said Danny, vaguely depressed. “Different classes, too, most of the time.”

“We can still see each other during the day,” said Sam. “I think the only meal that’s segregated by house is dinner, anyway. We should be able to hang out at all the other times.”

Danny sighed. He had yet to have much success in his missions.

He’d felt something wrong on the seventh floor, but he hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. He’d found a giant inaccessible dungeon full of snake statues, a snake skeleton, and a number of other somewhat questionable things underneath the school. There had been an echo of something there, but whatever it was had been long gone by the time Danny got there. He also had the faint sense of a ghost—a real ghost—beginning to form there, and he hoped he hadn’t messed it up by spreading his ectoplasm around.

On the second front, he hadn’t heard anything from any of the leaders of the wizarding world. Unless he counted a reply from a secretary who thought he was disturbed.

But there was one bright spot. They’d met the Headmaster yesterday, and Danny was certain the man’s wand was one of the two subjects of his third quest. Which was hilarious. Out of everything, he’d thought the Hallows would be the hardest to find.

Not that he could just take it. Not now. Not yet. Not with everything else still so uncertain and Clockwork’s quiet assurance that he would find most of what he needed to at Hogwarts.

(Clockwork and the Lady had made a deal with him, bound in old magic and ghost law. Three tasks. Three nearly impossible quests, but at the end of them, the one who had destroyed half of his world, who had harmed his people, would be gone, and in the meantime Amity Park would be protected. Danny knew he had gotten the better half of the deal, with Clockwork practically on his side. Even with the… other requirements. Still, he couldn’t help but feel discouraged.)

So, he’d stay, and wait, and keep a careful eye on the Headmaster, and try to find the thing on the seventh floor, and figure out what spells worked on ghosts and if he could circumvent them, and figure out how to intercept at least one magical head of state, and, and, and…

Ugh.

“If we aren’t too busy,” said Danny.

“You know we’re here to help,” said Tucker, prodding Danny’s side. “And even if the rest of them don’t know about, you know, I think they’d be willing to help, too.”

“Within reason,” said Sam.

It was true. Surviving near-death experiences together tended to make people—well. Not necessarily friends, but something more than mere acquaintances. Allies, at the very least.

(Especially if a lot of other people had died at the same time, and the survivors were holding on to the relationships they still had with all their strength.)

“I know,” said Danny. He bit his lip. “There’s something on the seventh floor, I think. Need more time to figure out what, though.”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” promised Sam.

“And an ear, too,” said Tucker, tapping his. “I’m sure there’ll be lots of rumors and legends in a place like this.”

“Me too. Jazz has been interrogating the paintings, you know.” He frowned. “They’re so weird.”

“Everything about this is weird,” said Sam. “Can’t believe we thought ghosts were the whole extent of the supernatural. It seems so dumb, now.”

“Not really,” said Danny. “I mean, ghosts were all that we saw, and they didn’t really mention anything else.” He sighed. “Guess we should get ready for the feast or whatever?”

“Yeah,” said Sam, standing. “Good luck meeting your classmates. Housemates? How are we even supposed to say that?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny. He sighed. “At least we each have at least one person from Casper with us.”

“That’s true,” said Tucker. “Can’t say I feel like I have much in common with Star, though. Other than,” he gestured, vaguely, “all the Amity Park stuff.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And you think I have a lot in common with Dash?”

“You have a lot in common with Valerie,” offered Tucker.

Sam shrugged. “We do both fight ghosts.”

Tucker’s grin turned slightly wicked. “And have a crush on the same guy.”

“Take a walk off a

Danny let himself smile. It had been a while since the three of them had gotten some good banter in. It was hard to verbally spar when you were depressed.

Sitting next to Paulina at an otherwise empty table felt strange. But it would feel even stranger to sit not next to Paulina at the very large empty table. Danny let his eyes drift over to the other three house tables. It seemed that the others were of the same opinion, sitting together in little, painfully awkward clusters.

All the close friend groups had been pulled apart, after all.

“Danny,” said Paulina. Her voice wavered at the end.

“Yeah?”

“The wizard kids will have cliques.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re still human, right?” And even ghosts formed groups.

Paulina nodded and clenched her jaw. “We’re going to get into one,” she said, firmly. “We’ll have to find the best one, and fast, otherwise we’ll wind up at the bottom of the pecking order. You know how much that sucks.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, his eyebrows raised. He was a little surprised to be included.

“The wizards we’ve met so far are pretty weird. You know how to deal with weird.”

“Uh,” said Danny. “Is this a strategy thing? Isn’t it a bit too late for that?”

“It’s never too late to salvage social standing, and we haven’t even started,” said Paulina. “Anyway, you’re the backup plan, in case they’re aliens who don’t fall for my charm.” She put a hand to her heart and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Should we even use charm like that here? I mean, since it’s a class, now.”

“Hmf. I’m good at that, too.” She examined her fingernails. “We’ll probably attract a bunch of people, just because we’re here and visible and new. We just need to make sure that people stay interested in us.”

“I’m not sure I want attention, Paulina.”

“Then pay attention and follow my lead. If you’re in the right clique, you can fade into the background. Like Star. No one notices the stuff she gets up to. They’re all too focused on yours truly. As they should be.”

This was true, actually. People didn’t really pay any attention to Star, except in her person as Paulina’s satellite. Even Danny, before becoming Phantom and gaining a new perspective on life and the people in it, hadn’t.

“Besides,” continued Paulina, “now that we, well.” She didn’t quite blush. “You guys don’t suck as much as I thought you did.”

“Uh, thanks. You, too?”

Wow. That was quite possibly the worst response he could have had.

Paulina sighed heavily.

However, she was distracted from whatever she might have said to him by the first of the Hogwarts students coming in. Paulina turned her attention away, her eyes flicking from one set of green and silver highlights to the next. Whenever a student looked their way she smiled and waved, pouring on the charm.

Danny didn’t know how she did it. Social engineering was never going to be his strong point.

(Perhaps he could set Paulina and Star on the Minister of Magic’s trail. They might have more luck.)

Before he could follow the train of thought, they were surrounded. In a simply physical sense. There was no malice and very little aggression from the students that sat near them, more than one of whom had prefects badges. Still, Danny did have to fight down a knee-jerk reaction. He saw Paulina shift uncomfortably as well, and he gave her robe what he hoped was a steadying tug.

She returned it with a tight smile.

There wasn’t much time to talk before Professor McGonagall stood up with the hat and started calling names. Everyone went very quiet during the sorting, except for the cheer that rose with the hat’s every shout.

Then there was food. A lot of food. Most of it was recognizable, but some of it was sort of weird. Many things were pumpkin flavored. There was even something Danny was fairly certain was pumpkin juice.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Paulina took the time to engage in social engineering. Danny took the time to watch. They were both watched back, of course, but Paulina naturally drew more attention.

However, there was one boy who kept staring at Danny. He was about their age and had pale blonde hair. Really pale blonde hair.

(Danny had thought Star and Dash were blonde.)

“You’re Daniel Fenton, correct?” asked the boy.

“Um. Yes. And you are?”

“Draco Malfoy. I’m the fifth-year prefect.”

“Oh, Draco like the constellation?”

Draco blinked. “Yes.”

“Did your parents like astronomy a lot, then?”

“Astrology,” corrected Draco. “Astronomy is what muggles do.”

Danny carefully forced down the white-hot rage he felt at that statement. Yeah, he had more than a normal admiration for astronomy, and, therefore, a more intense than normal reaction to astronomy and astrology being confused, but magic was real, apparently, so maybe astrology wasn’t useless. Right. Yeah. And they were both about stars, planets, and space. Nothing to get mad at.

“It’s been a tradition in my mother’s family for generations,” Draco was saying, “although we occasionally make some allowances for other traditions. My mother’s name is Narcissa, for example. Is there anything similar in your family?”

“Dad’s side does ‘J’ names for the first born. Jazz got stuck with that.”

The boy’s eyebrows went up. “You have a sister? She isn’t magical?”

“Magical enough to haunt me,” said Danny.

“Pardon?”

“She died. She’s around here somewhere, though.” He gestured vaguely. “Didn’t want to be around big crowds. I think she said she was going to hang out with Myrtle?”

“Myrtle? Do you mean Moaning Myrtle? Who haunts the bathrooms?”

This time, the reaction Danny suppressed was a cringe, the emotion embarrassment on behalf of the young witch ghost. “She just introduced herself as Myrtle. Well, Myrtle Warren, but… Yeah. It’s kind of rude to describe someone as moaning, isn’t it?”

The boy puffed up, slightly, clearly offended.

Oh, dear.

The Americans were… interesting, Harry thought.

Ron and Hermione had sat near them as part of their ‘prefect duties,’ with Harry and therefore Ginny and Neville following after.

Well. That may have had more to do with curiosity than anything else.

They introduced themselves by their first names only. Dash, Valerie, and Sam. Dash was… well. Harry had encountered people like him both before and after coming to Hogwarts. For example, McClaggen. Harry hadn’t ever interacted much with McClaggen, even if they were in the same house, but Dash definitely gave off the same feeling. Meanwhile, Valerie just sort of glared at everyone, resisting all attempts at conversation while tearing at her food with extreme aggression. Sam had managed to engage Hermione and Katie Bell in a conversation about dark magic that was getting Hermione progressively more flustered.

Harry couldn’t tell if it was because of the misconceptions Sam had about magic in general, or because Sam seemed to think some kinds of dark magic should be legal.

He was starting to get a very bad feeling about these Americans.

“Hey,” whispered Tucker, while the students around them were distracted by something a rather round ghost was saying.

“What?” whispered Star.

“Is it just me, or is everyone here sort of depressed? Like, I can understand us being depressed, but…”

“No, no it’s not just you. Wasn’t there something about a student death? Some kind of freak accident.”

“Oh,” said the student sitting across from them. “You heard about Cedric.”

Danny wondered if he could get to the Minister of Magic through Dolores Umbridge. He hadn’t gotten a good read on her during their very brief encounters the previous week, but now... She gave off the impression of having some kind of political power. His understanding was that the headmaster had a lot of influence among the wizards and witches of this country, so for her to be interrupting him like that…

Or maybe he was like Danny and weak against social awkwardness.

Also, her speech seemed to have a deeper meaning he couldn’t decode. He didn’t understand wizarding culture or their political climate enough, despite his research.

Eh. He’d have to get a better grasp of her personality and position. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be too hard. He did have a class with her.

“The events of last spring have left a mark on the whole school,” said Severus Snape into the muffled quiet of the Slytherin common room, his voice just barely more emotive than during the placement test he had given the Casper High students, “and no doubt on many of your home lives as well. I want you to know that if you have any… concerns… regarding the behaviors of fellow students or… more sensitive topics, you can come to me.”

The man blinked slowly at them.

“That is all,” he said, finally, and with an overly dramatic swish of his cloak he departed.

The room quickly filled with light chatter, students breaking off into little cliques, some of them slipping away down shadowy corridors.

Paulina tugged him towards one of those groups.

“Hi, Pansy,” she said, giving the girl a little wave, “hi, Draco. We were wondering if you guys could show us around? We were told our stuff would be moved here, but…” She trailed off, shrugging elegantly.

Danny tried to echo the movement.

He most likely did not succeed.

(It wasn’t like he could tell. His superpowers did not include seeing himself from the outside—Or maybe they did. There could be a spell for that, he supposed.)

He had to admit, as the prefects made a (just slightly supercilious) show of presenting the Slytherin dormitories to them, that he rather liked the space. It was surprisingly well-ventilated and warm, but there was still a general air of closeness, of security of bone-deep chill that spoke so well to his ghost half.

Of course, a lot of that would probably evaporate once Danny tried to sleep in a room with half a dozen strangers, but, well, he’d deal with that when he got there.

Magic was great and all, but Tucker would trade it all away in a second if only to get his PDA to work properly.

In the tent formed by his bedsheet and his body, Tucker hissed and rapped on the staticky screen, hoping an impact adjustment would do… something. He didn’t know what. The last three hadn’t done anything.

The way the metal casing was heating up under his hand was disturbing. Quickly, he thumbed the power button. He didn’t have a lot of these left, and he wanted to be able to use them to communicate with Danny and Sam. He missed their late-night Doom sessions.

(Along with everything else about his life in Amity Park. He at least had the power to make talking to his friends possible. The rest? Not so much.)

He groaned into his pillow. He’d been working on this off and on all week. Another night wouldn’t matter in the long run.

Maybe one of his classes would help him understand what he was doing wrong.

Sam had sort of enjoyed needling Hermione (the girl reminded her a lot of Jazz), even if she knew she shouldn’t, but the nasty fight between some of the fifth year boys in the common room had really ruined the mood. Hermione’s friend, Harry, was apparently some sort of celebrity. Like, in the same way Phantom had been a celebrity following Walker’s invasion.

So. Not really a great thing for him.

Ugh. Sympathy. Feelings. She sighed and stared up at the red and gold ceiling. If the color scheme didn’t do her in…

Danny met Jazz in the air over the school.

“I didn’t see you much today,” he said, twisting hands that he is keeping carefully transparent.

“Yeah,” said Jazz. “I’m just… I’m still adjusting. I think you’ll like Myrtle, by the way. She’s lonely, but fun. I think there might actually be a bit of ectoplasm in her, believe it or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She can flood the toilets, apparently. Although… I’m not sure if she meant the toilets themselves, or just the room in general.” She frowned. “Because she said something about sinks…” She shook her head. “Not important. Want to hear what she told me about the secret underground room and the giant snake skeleton? Not to mention all the other ridiculous stuff that’s happened here. If this is ‘safer,’ I don’t want to know what the rest of the wizarding world is like.”

“Like what happened in Amity, I guess,” said Danny. “But! Yes. Please tell me what you found out.”

Breakfast was nice. Especially when Sam, Danny, and Tucker compared schedules and realized that they had more classes together than they expected. Not with all three of them at once, but even just two of them together was better than nothing.

Yes, they got a lot of strange looks, especially when Jazz joined them. Evidently, eating breakfast with people from other houses just wasn’t done. Which was stupid, in Sam’s opinion. Actually, the whole house system felt increasingly stupid to Sam. She just didn’t understand the point. Was it for sports?

It was probably for sports. Sports were the root of all evil. Just look at Dash. He hadn’t had any sports for a whole Summer, and now he was acting like an actual decent human being.

Okay. That reasoning was suspect. Sam would have to come back to this when she was more awake. Early mornings were the worst.

Anyway. She had an acceptable breakfast with her friends and the people she’d grown to tolerate, then she set out to find History.

Which is how she overheard the conversation between Hermione and her friends.

“What’s S.P.E.W.?” she asked.

Hermione’s two friends glared at Sam. Probably for the sin of eating with people from another house. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well,” said Hermione, just slightly hesitant. “It’s the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare…”

(Sam found a new cause to get incandescently angry about. Wizard society sucked.)

Harry was surprised to see five of the Americans, the three Gryffindors and the two Slytherins, standing by the door to Defense Against the Dark Arts, quietly talking to each other.

“What’re they doing, then?” asked Ron, scowling. “Consorting with the enemy?”

“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes. “They aren’t the enemy. And they’re from the same place. It must be difficult, being so far away from home.”

Ron grunted and shrugged. “What d’you think Umbridge’ll be like, anyway?” he asked, changing the subject.

They filed into the classroom, the remainder of the class, including the Slytherins, their green looking horribly out of place amongst all the red trim, following shortly after. No one knew what Umbridge would be like, regarding punishment, so they didn’t want to immediately get on her bad side.

“Well,” she said, in a sickly-sweet tone, “good afternoon!”

There was a mumbled response.

Umbridge said “Tut, tut.” She actually said tut tut. Out loud. “That won’t do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” said the class, in something approaching unison and the least enthusiastic tone Harry had heard since Ron had tried to convince Hermione to help him with his Divination homework last year.

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”

Many of the students exchanged gloomy or exasperated looks. Lessons without wands tended to be uninteresting, with very few exceptions.

(Instead of quills, the Americans produced pencils and pens from their bookbags.)

Umbridge opened her handbag and pulled out her own wand, which was as stubby as she was, and tapped the blackboard. Words appeared on the board at once: Defense Against the Dark Arts, A Return to Basic Principles.

Harry couldn’t quite repress a groan. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one.

“Well now, your teaching in this subject had been rather disrupted, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge. She turned to face the class, her eyes briefly lingering on Harry, and then the Americans. “Or completely nonexistent. The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

“You will be pleased to know, however,” she continued, still acting like she was talking to kindergarteners, “that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year.”

Each word Umbridge spoke made Harry’s heart drop farther. How could Dumbledore let this woman teach them? This year? When knowing how to fight dark magic was more important than ever?

Umbridge rapped the board again, and new words appeared. Course aims: 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Oh. This year was going to be bad. As for the day, it got worse when Umbridge assigned a reading from what had to be the dullest book Harry had ever read. Including that one time—No. Focus.

He massaged his temples and wondered if he needed to get a new prescription for his glasses. The words on the page refused to stay sharp.

Harry looked up when the Americans started to whisper among themselves and caught sight of one of the most shocking things he had ever witnessed: Hermione not reading.

Soon, everyone was staring either at Hermione or the Americans, who had left off whispering after some pointed glaring from Umbridge but had replaced the whispers with passionate gesturing at something in the back of the book. Those, too, died down after a while, in favor of looking at Hermione.

Eventually, Umbridge could no longer ignore the situation.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?”

“Not about the chapter, no.”

“Well, we’re reading just now.” Umbridge smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “If you have other queries, we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” said Hermione, undeterred.

“And your name is—?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully.”

“Well, I don’t. There’s nothing written up there about using defensive spells.”

“There’s nothing in the book about using spells, either!” said the Slytherin boy, waving his copy angrily. “There aren’t even any of the, um.” He paused and looked at Sam for a second.

“Incantations,” said Sam. “I mean, that’s what I’d call them? I don’t know the official term.”

Umbridge inhaled through her teeth.

“Using defensive spells?” she asked, voice pitched unnaturally high. “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss—”

“And what about outside of the classroom?” interrupted the Slytherin boy.

“Like, this is supposed to teach us how to not die, right?” asked the girl next to him, examining her fingernails.

“You have to practice self-defense to actually get good at it,” agreed Valerie, crossing her arms. “What’s the point of this class if we’re not going to actually learn how to do stuff?”

“Yes,” agreed Hermione, “surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“Students,” gritted Umbridge, “will raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class.”

At once, a dozen hands went up.

“Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked, voice dangerous.

“Isn’t the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts to practice defensive spells?”

“Miss Granger,” said Umbridge. “As you are not a Ministry-trained educational expert, you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of this, or any, class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have—”

“I really doubt that,” interjected Ron.

Umbridge took another deep breath. “You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—”

“What’s the use of that?” demanded Harry, loudly. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be in a—”

“Hand, Mr. Potter!”

Predictably, Umbridge turned her back on him as soon as he thrust his fist into the air. Instead, she called on Dean Thomas.

(The part of Harry’s brain that wasn’t vibrating in frustration noted that the Americans were passing notes between each other.)

“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” he asked, once she had gotten done with interrogating him about his name. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free—”

“Do you expect to be attacked in class?”

Harry was very tempted to say yes, considering that three of his four previous DADA teachers had wound up attacking him.

… Did Professor Lupin’s werewolf form having a go at him bring the count up to four?

Umbridge talked over Dean. “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, with the air of someone who was about to do just that, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

The Slytherin boy stood up, chair scraping across the floor. Sam, next to him, had gone pale. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around her wand.

“Sit down, Mr.-?”

“I’m leaving,” said the boy, not deigning to give Umbridge his name. He picked up his bag. “Maybe I can sit in on an actually useful lesson. I mean, if I can figure out how to make a pineapple tap dance, I can get it to fly into someone’s face. At least that’s something.”

“Sit down,” repeated Umbridge. “I do not know what your classmates have told you, but you, all of you,” she said to the class, “have been frightened into believe that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—”

“We haven’t been frightened into believing anything!” exclaimed Dash, also rising from his seat. “Our entire city was attacked! We need—"

“Which was a tragedy. One that is unlikely to be repeated! Now, sit down.”

The other Americans stood up.

“We heard about Cedric Diggory, you know,” said the Slytherin girl, coldly. “And a lot of the people who attacked us were never caught.”

“We also know about the giant murder snake that apparently lived here,” said the boy.

“I, for one, can’t believe that wizards are less likely to be murders than any other human,” said Valerie. “If normal people need to take self-defense classes, I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to.”

“The government preventing people from learning how to defend themselves is historically a bad sign,” said Sam. “Of course, slavery is also a bad sign, and you all have been ignoring that for God only knows how long. There are actual slaves in this school.”

“Wait,” said the Slytherin boy, horrified. “Are you serious? Is that what you were talking about before? Oh my God—"

“Children!” exclaimed Umbridge. “Your hands are not up.”

The looks Umbridge got after that outburst were filled with incredulity, not

Parvati Patil raised her hand.

“Yes?” asked Umbridge.

Harry was beginning to wonder if she was looking for punishment.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to—”

The room exploded into a flurry of objections, spurred on by the Americans.

“Who exactly do you think is going to attack you?” shouted Umbridge over the ruckus.

“I don’t know!” shouted Harry back, even though part of him knew this was a bad idea. “How about Lord Voldemort?”

Silence.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter?”

“Points?” whispered Dash. No one else spoke.

The Slytherin boy was looking at Harry with something like hunger in his eyes.

“Now, let me make a few quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard had returned from the dead—”

“He wasn’t dead,” said Harry, “but yeah, he’s returned!”

“Do not make matters worse for yourself, Mr. Potter!” exclaimed Umbridge shrilly. “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.”

“It is NOT a lie! I saw him! I fought him!”

Glee spread across Umbridge’s toad-like face. “Detention, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow evening. Five— What do you think you’re doing?”

“Um,” said the Slytherin boy, who like the rest of the Americans was halfway to the door. “Leaving. Like we said?” He hadn’t stopped walking.

“You will do no such thing! All five of you will be joining Mr. Potter for detention.”

“Pass.” His eyes flicked towards Harry again.

“Excuse me?”

“We have better things to do than humor someone who’s refusing to do their job,” said Sam.

The classroom doors slammed shut right in front of the Slytherin boy’s nose, and he took half a step back.

“Tomorrow evening, at five o’clock, all six of you will join me for detention in my office. Now. The rumors of that Dark wizard’s return are lies. The Ministry guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, if someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, come see me outside of class hours, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. Now, kindly, continue your reading. Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’”

The Americans slunk back to their seats but pulled a variety of colorful transfiguration textbooks from their bags instead of Defensive Magical Theory.

With an air of triumph, Umbridge sat down behind her desk.

Harry stood up.

“Harry, no!” whispered Hermione, tugging at his sleeve.

Harry ignored her. (Which was, in all honesty, a stupid move. Ignoring Hermione rarely had positive consequences.)

(In his defense, the preceding several minutes had been… stressful.)

“So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?”

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accid—”

“Just like Amity Park, huh?”

“A tragic accident,” continued Umbridge, voice full of ice.

“It was murder.” Harry was shaking. He felt like he was under a spotlight, and he wanted to be anywhere but here, talking about this. “Voldemort killed him, and you know it.”

For a second, Harry thought Umbridge would start screaming, but instead her lips curled up into a parody of a smile. “Come here, Mr. Potter, dear.”

As Harry walked forward, Umbridge started scribbling on a small, pink, piece of paper, angled so that Harry couldn’t see what she was writing. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and Harry flinched.

The… What were they even doing? Why were they sitting like that?

“Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,” said Umbridge, holding out a roll of pink paper.

Harry took it from her without a word, turned on his heel, threw open the door, and—

Was almost trampled by the Americans all escaping the room at once.

Dash grabbed him by the upper arm, and soon all six of them were running down the hallway. It took several seconds for Umbridge to start shrieking, and, by that point, the Slytherin boy had pulled them all into a secret passage that someone who hadn’t been at Hogwarts for even a month shouldn’t know about.

“Wow,” said Sam. “You work fast, Danny.”

“Thanks,” said Danny, giving her a thumbs up. “Got to thank the Bloody Baron, though.” He paused. “Still can’t believe that’s his actual name…”

“Sorry about dragging you with us, by the way,” said the Slytherin girl. “I’m Paulina. This is Danny. You already know these three, I think?”

“Er,” said Harry, not at all sure how to deal with this situation. Part of him just wanted to shout. He was still vibrating with suppressed rage.

“I didn’t really catch your name in all that, though,” she continued, gesturing behind them.

“It’s Harry. Potter.”

It was… interesting, how his name didn’t spark any recognition in them. At least not at first. Then Danny stiffened and—

“The poltergeist is coming this way,” he said, mildly.

“You can tell?” asked Paulina.

“I could always tell. Why do you think I was always in the bathroom when ghosts were around?”

Valerie scowled, and shot a truly venomous glare at her watch.

“Do you think we can convince him to bug Umbridge?” asked Sam.

Danny shot a look of surprise at her. Then he smiled. “Maybe,” he said. He turned back to Harry. “It was nice meeting you. I hope we can talk again sometime. It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and, well…” He shrugged.

Harry suddenly remembered that the Americans were here, for the most part, because their families were dead.

“But you should probably track down Professor McGonagall sooner than later. I’d bet that Umbridge put a timer on that. If that’s possible. Is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” said Harry, suddenly a hundred times more anxious about the paper clenched in his hand.

“Gosh, imagine if Lancer could do that,” said Dash.

“I’d take Lancer any day,” said Danny. “He actually tried to teach stuff. Anyway, I’m going to go head off Peeves. You might want to go around. I hear he can be kind of a jerk?”

“Right,” said Harry, walking further down the secret passage, because he had been here for a proper length of time and had learned about it properly.

… Although he supposed that asking the ghosts was a proper way to go about learning the secret passages.

No, he had to focus on how to explain getting kicked out of class to Professor McGonagall, not on the weirdest interaction with Slytherins he’d had to date.

#danny phantom #harry potter #fic #gift fic #prize #winner

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draven-imani · 3 years

Text

Journal 5 (Part 2)

So. Yeah. Commander Irabeth Tirabade gave me a temporary field promotion. Although she said there wasn’t much of the Raven Corps left to speak of at the moment. Apparently, a certain Golden Boy had commandeered as many people as he could convince to come with him on a mad quest into the Worldwound after the attack and our group fell underground. He has an entire legion following him, which he dubbed the Silver Legion. She said it was likely he’d be back soon for a supply run.

Damn. I always knew Leto would go far. But to rally the troops on his own without any preestablished backing and just…go for it? I don’t know how he does it. We walked the same path and yet somehow he’s always been in a completely different league than me. I don’t envy him, not in the slightest. I’m in awe, more like. It’s like looking at the sun. It’s incomprehensible.

Ah. I wish he were here instead of there, though. He’d know how to handle this whole ‘Acting Captain’ thing. I feel in over my head already. I don’t want a position of power. I don’t want people’s lives in my hands. I only thought I wanted to go up the ranks when I was an idealistic kid with no idea what that meant. Now…the idea of giving the order that gets someone killed sickens me…

But if Commander Tirabade is the one who gives me that responsibility, I don’t think I’ll be able to say no.

I was starting to doubt…a lot, the last couple of days, honestly. Everything about Luna threw things into question. And then we found out Baphomet cultists infiltrated the church. And then Auriel died. And then I first talked to Radiance…and heard their threats. The threats from a holy weapon that sounded like they should have come from a demon. That stung. That shook me.

But then we met Irabeth Tirabade. And even in person she represents everything I have ever strived to be. Both in the sense of a former Raven Corps member who pulled herself out and into a position to actually be of use to the world, but also in the sense of how an Iomedae worshipper should carry themselves. She’s noble and strong and honorable, but she’s not quite so stuck in her ways as Auriel was, she seems to see things the way they are, and have been in the past, and she seems to be willing to admit when things are rotten and need to be fixed. I respect her. A lot. I…don’t want to disappoint her.

Aaaaand that means, if she gives me a responsibility, I have to rise to the task…even if I really really reeeeeeeeally don’t want to.

Commander Tirabade told me to give her a full report of everything that had happened. Which is exactly what I’d been keeping this journal for. So I gave her my report, and had the others chime in where my memory or note taking didn’t serve adequately. Then I showed her Radiance. I didn’t really think about it, because I thought since she was a paladin that Radiance wouldn’t be quite so ‘I’m going to flay you alive’. Or maybe I just wasn’t thinking, because she was Irabeth Tirabade and I’m dumb. That’s more likely. Anyways Radiance started burning her hands, so I quickly took them back.

And I may have admonished them out loud for doing that. To which Radiance basically asked ‘what part of chosen wielder don’t you understand?’ which…fair, but I guess I kind of thought Radiance was the one deciding whether or not to start hurting someone for touching it with how they’d worded it last time. I didn’t think it just happened.

The others were looking at me like I was crazy and asked if I was talking to my sword. So then I had to explain that Radiance is a magic intelligent weapon and also really picky about who wields them.

(And I got a little off track figuring out Radiance’s pronouns here. The answer boiled down to ‘I don’t conform to your mortal view of gender, call me whatever you want’, so I’m sticking with they since it’s neutral. Must be nice being a formless weapon spirit who can just give a copout answer like ‘I don’t conform to your mortal view of gender’. I’d not conform to my mortal view of gender if I could, but I have a flesh prison with all that gender-y stuff that comes with it.)

So then one of them, I forget who, commented about me being the chosen wielder of Radiance. And I think I laughed. I corrected them. No, I wasn’t the chosen wielder. The others pointed out I was wielding them, it sure looked like I was. So I explained what Radiance had already explained to me. That Auriel had been meant to wield them. That I was only holding them now because Auriel didn’t make it this far, and because Auriel’s soul vouched for me.

Commander Tirabade gave her condolences to us about Auriel, and asked that I tell her as much as I could about him later, as someone was going to give a eulogy for all who had been lost in the battle against the demons soon and she would make sure given his heroic sacrifice that he was given the send off he deserved.

Then Anevia rejoined the conversation, having been listening in on the sword talk. She called Irabeth over and asked her about the sword she had lied about selling. Anevia proved even with a sweet voice and a smile to be scarier than the much larger and more fearsome looking commander. Commander Tirabade admitted that she had sold her sword in exchange for an anniversary gift for Anevia. A potion that permanently changes one’s gender.

Aaaaand looking back I really hope the talk about pronouns was not uncomfortable, I was legitimately trying to be polite to the sword, despite Radiance never once extending the same courtesy to me.

Anyways.

By the end the Commander determined that it would be a good idea for us to continue taking out the safehouses, but she had another mission for us as well once that was done. Something big. She told us that another of Deskari’s generals was on her way here—the witch Arelu Vorlesh. We had heard rumors of this from drifters on the streets as well. The crusaders had managed to get information that Deskari’s cult had holed up in Old Kenabres, making a stronghold of a temple to the Inheritor known as the Grey Garrison. There was a piece of the wardstone left still intact, and Arelu was coming to corrupt it. If she was successful, the Commander believed Arelu was going to turn the wardstone into a weapon that would decimate the crusaders on the battlefield.

With that in mind, she had a librarian from the Blackwing come forward with a magical rod. I’m not one for the arcane, but Hiskaria sounded extremely in awe and almost equally disturbed by the implications of the rod, a ‘rod of cancellation’. The important part I gathered was that if Hiskaria used the rod on the wardstone, then it would destroy it.

Melody was hesitant, wondering if there was any way to eventually fix the wardstone and restore the barrier to save the city. Commander Tirabade said no. It had been created hundreds of years ago, when times were less turbulent, and with divine intervention. We had neither the means nor the time, and every moment we left the wardstone intact was a moment Arelu could return to attempt to corrupt it to her own purposes. Better that it was destroyed than in enemy hands.

We agreed. The Commander said that she would not order this strike until we had cleared out all of the safehouses, so that they had nowhere to fall back to, and no reinforcements to call upon, or else the strike would be a suicide mission. But once we had finished ridding the city of their other bases of operations, she would have an army march on the main forces of Deskari, drawing their attention, while our small strike force took the Grey Garrison.

With a plan in place, we decided that today we would at least take down one more safehouse before we rested. I was the only one really in need of any rest, and Commander Tirabade offered that the clerics of the crusades were at our disposal before we left so that we would not have to use our own limited supplies. Once my remaining injuries from those blasted vultures were healed, we set out.

We came upon some looters, who had overturned the caravan of a handful of survivors and were picking through it. We discussed, and decided we didn’t particularly want to kill these guys, just spook them. So Luna pulled up her hood and donned her Butcher persona, then went after the looters, threatening that she would add them to her pile of the dead if they didn’t abandon this cart to her. It worked, and they fled for their lives.

Luna removed her hood and we approached the survivors. They were frightened after that display, but glad to have their supplies back. We pointed them in the direction of Defender’s Heart and gave them the passcode, and told them to let them know we’d sent them, as we’d seen a number of refugees being housed safely there.

After that we continued on our way, until we came upon the Tower of Estrod. From the note we’d gotten off Hosilla, there was a passcode, “I’ve new material for the archives”. Since we knew this, and we knew Hosilla’s face, we formed a plan. Melody was able to use the magic of her scale of Trendalor to disguise herself as Hosilla. I was to pretend to be one of the Baphomet worshippers who was a false Iomedaen. And Luna was merely being a more exaggerated version of herself, using her infamy as the Butcher of Balestreet to her advantage. Hiskaria didn’t want to go inside and be stuck in close quarters, so she remained outdoors on lookout, listening for any sign of things going badly. After some discussion, Melody had handed off Auriel’s scale to Hiskaria, and explained how it worked to her. The scales couldn’t be used together, so Melody needed to hand it off regardless, and it seemed right that since Hiskaria was going to be helping us for the foreseeable future, she should be the one to hold it. And as an archer the levitation ability it granted would be of more use to her than to any of us.

With a plan in mind, the three of us walked into the proverbial lion’s den. Two cultists of Baphomet were lounging about on the bottom floor. Believing they recognized Melody as Hosilla, they let us in, and told us to meet with a man on the upper floor by the name of Faxon. We followed Melody’s lead, and went up the stairs. At the top of the tower, we found a tiefling with a scorpion upon his shoulder. He spoke smugly to ‘Hosilla’, and had a very…slimy feel about him. I got the impression that he and Hosilla were not on good terms, perhaps even that Stauton Vhagn pit them against each other and that’s why he was having Hosilla check up on him, just to rub salt in the wound. Unfortunately, Melody didn’t quite know how far to press, and backed down too soon, after making her ‘report’, agreeing to return downstairs with little bite back. When questioned about what I knew, I did the safe thing and pled ignorance, claiming to merely be Hosilla’s guard and not someone in a position to have information. When asked, Luna said she was just there for the kills, nothing more nothing less.

As Melody went to have us return downstairs, Faxon called Luna back to him. I had a bad feeling, but Luna shrugged it off and said to go on without her. Melody decided that maybe we could take out the cultists downstairs quietly while he had whatever discussion he wanted with her. I agreed, although we never got the chance. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of violence broke out upstairs, and the two downstairs were alerted that something was amiss. Melody and I decided it would be best for us to guard the stairs and make sure these two couldn’t sneak up on Luna from behind first before going upstairs to try to help her finish with Fenox.

I took care of one of the cultists swiftly, with Radiance spurring me on, the both of us eager to put an end to the evils of these worshippers of the Minotaur. The sounds upstairs began to die down, as Melody took a stab at the other from the stairs with Hosilla’s glaive. He tried to flee. Melody wasn’t going to allow that. She leapt from the stairs, and with far less regard for a glaive that isn’t her family’s sentimental one, she used it to pole-vault at the cultist, landing behind him and swinging around to stab at him once again. Still he was up. He almost made it to the door.

Just in time for Hiskaria to open the door and shoot an arrow in his face.

Somehow by some twisted luck he was still going, but Melody caught up with him once again, and maaaay have decided to show off a little to our new companion as she leapt in the air and skewered the man, finally dead.

All was quiet. I was about to be concerned about what might have happened to Luna, but then Hiskaria told me about the absolutely ridiculously amazing one sided one on one ‘fight’ she’d had with Fenox. As if I should have been worried about Luna. Hiskaria had heard the commotion and used the scale to levitate up so she’d she the last half of the fight. The upper floor didn’t have a roof, so she had been intending to shoot an arrow right into the other tiefling’s skull, but it ended up not being necessary.

See, there was a wall bisecting that room, with a door. He’d shut and locked the door to put it between him and Luna when things started looking bad. Luna had shown yet again just how little walls meant to the Butcher of Balestreet when she used the glaive she’d been holding holding for show as a means to pull herself up and over, then came down on Fenox with her axe. The Butcher one, Baphomet zero.

We met with her upstairs, where we found a shrine to Baphomet and a minotaur shaped object on the wall that was causing the room to be desecrated by its mere presence. There was also a treasure chest, so we decided that while the others went through the loot, I was going to take Radiance and have a bit of fun.

It took some time, that minotaur head was damned sturdy. But when it did break, Radiance’s voice echoed through the room. It wasn’t just me that heard it that time, but everyone. Their voice faded after only a moment. The others seemed a little shaken by that. I don’t really blame them. Radiance is…a lot. They’ve gone back to just being in my head now, which is probably for the best. Them quieting down entirely would probably be better, but I’m not lucky enough to have a normal holy sword that doesn’t demand the blood of demons and cultists as we fight. Ah, well. At least we agree on who our enemies are.

The chest had holy symbols and the favored weapons of multiple faiths, pointing towards the cult’s penchant for infiltration. We decided we would return them to the clerics at Defender’s Heart. Looking back I kind of wish I’d asked if they’d be okay with me keeping one. My wooden holy symbol’s seen a lot of use, and isn’t exactly the sturdiest material. Silver to match Leto’s wouldn’t have hurt. Ah, well. Hindsight and all that.

We were feeling really good after how well that went. We’d been planning on calling it a day after the tower, but since we’d used virtually none of our resources we agreed that unless we ran into particularly nasty trouble on the road we should try to clear out Topaz Solutions, report back to the Commander, and prepare to storm the Grey Garrison tomorrow.

Topaz Solutions was quite a bit farther than the tower had been from Defender’s Heart. Which meant more time for attacks from demons or other things lurking about.

First we were attack by two barbed creatures which made a terrible howling noise. Their barbs were painful when we got too close, but we cleared them out quickly enough with little trouble to speak of. No one ended up with any of the barbs stuck in them, which was a blessing. That could have proven difficult.

Then…we came to Balestreet. The demons had left the street as much a gory horror scene as one might have expected of Luna’s namesake. Here, two cultists of Baphomet tried to ambush us. Big mistake. Luna decided she was eager to make true to her nickname, and took her axe to them. They didn’t go down.

Then two arrows went straight through them, ice burst from one’s injuries, and both fell dead on the road. Hiskaria looked a bit sheepish, asking Luna if she shouldn’t have done that, since Balestreet was supposed to be Luna’s thing. Luna shrugged it off, saying it worked either way.

Remind me not to get on the bad side of the ladies in our group, they can cut quite the fearsome characters.

With that we were on our way, the rest of the walk to Topaz Solutions uneventful. The apothecary was being looted by a couple of thugs when we arrived. Luna decided to do her thing and scared them off with a few threats from the Butcher. Then we started looking around. The looters had taken anything of value, but Luna after some poking around found some ‘really nice door technology’, and opened a secret passage that led into a hidden basement. Luna and Melody snuck down first.

After a minute of waiting, Hiskaria and I heard Luna and Melody call us down, saying there was a strange mechanical doll and an image on the wall they couldn’t identify. I went down first. As Melody stepped forward to let me in, the minotaur head on the wall began to speak. It taunted us, saying it hoped we were Iomedaens so that this surprise from Baphomet wouldn’t go to waste. Then the doll began moving, and smashed a bottle, releasing a small plant creature.

There was also some kind of…gas I think? Something was in the chamber after that which was causing us various issues. Melody and I both started finding it hard to breath for instance—not so much that we were suffocating, but enough that we were wheezing and likely would have been unable to easily move stealthily.

Worse was that plant. It was in a thick patch of vines that it could move through with ease but which we struggles in. It screamed in such a way that it caused both Melody and Hiskaria to become nauseous, forcing them to flee upstairs to safety and leaving me and Luna to deal with it by ourselves. And it was small and tricky, dodging around many of our attacks in the most frustrating manner. Luna did finally squash the blasted thing, and I went over to the minotaur head and broke whatever the device was that was releasing gas into the room.

Then we searched the room and found a chest with a mocking note claiming we deserved a reward for besting the trap. Within were a number of stolen holy symbols. Luna stopped us from taking them, noting that they were covered in a contact poison.

I have decided I rather dislike this Igon Topaz, and do hope he survived the attack on the city. If only so that I may someday bring judgement upon him myself.

With all three safehouses cleared out, we’ve returned to Defender’s Heart for the night. We reported back to the Commander, and we spent some time unwinding and preparing for tomorrow. There are some merchants set up so we were able to get some supplies. And, more importantly, we got some drinks.

And even more importantly, Leto’s back.

He showed up while we were making preparations, all smiles and charm as always. He thought I’d died in a pit, I thought he’d been killed by demons, same old same old.

He looked amazing. He’s been doing well for himself. He really was the picture of a paladin in that silver armor riding up on a holy steed. Although I guess to him I must have looked maybe a little impressive with the holy sword Radiance at my side. Ah, if only he could have a conversation with them, he’d quit being impressed real quick.

Leto played up his knight in shining armor role well, flirted with Hiskaria even though she’s twice his age and a convicted murderer, and got on well with Melody. He…did not get on well with Luna. He tried, certainly, at first, but then she threw some misplaced insults about him being Raven Corps which I corrected, and then she brought up how all the reports of her being a murderer are vastly exaggerated by the Raven Corps and…it was just all around awkward, I think.

So then he introduced us to his horse, Charles, instead. He got a kick out of the fact he’d given his holy mount such a mundane name instead of something more heroic like—

Hold up. Charles.

Charlie.

Chalie Horse.

…that blasted tiefling, I’m going to wring his neck next time I see him.

I can’t decide if I’m mad about the pun, mad I didn’t catch it when we were talking about it, or mad that I didn’t think of it first.

Named his holy steed a pun, the nerve of that man...I wonder if anyone else has caught on. Commander of the Silver Legion, Leto Jules, the tiefling so charismatic he managed to sway 50,000 people to his banner…named his holy steed Charlie Horse. Inheritor help me I don’t know what to do with him.

Or how to outdo that.

Which is frustrating.

Oh well. What’re you going to do? Some days you find out your brother is not just still alive but now leading a legion on the back of a horse named Charlie and you just roll with it.

I’m glad he’s okay.

His Silver Legion is going to be joining the fight against the main forces tomorrow while our strike force goes into the Grey Garrison. So that’s more for me to worry about. But Leto’s always been a lucky bastard unlike me. He’ll be fine.

After the fact Melody, Hiskaria, and Luna decided it was really important to whisper amongst themselves and to send me away. So apparently it’s rumor time again. Yay. I’m fairly certain with them it would be nothing bad…but I can’t fathom what they could have possibly been whispering about. I suppose if they think Leto and I are related by blood it could have been about that, if they think I share his demonic bloodline…but Hiskaria is a tiefling as well, I see little reason why they would need to be secretive about it if that were the case. And quite frankly Leto and I don’t look alike. At all. Even if he weren’t golden, we don’t share even close to the same features. So I don’t think we could be mistaken for blood relatives.

I don’t know, and there’s really no use in speculating. It’s growing late, and we have a temple to siege in the morning.

#journal entry #pathfinder #pathfinder wotr #pathfinder wotr spoilers #Draven Imani

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exciting · 3 years

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As requested, books / series I read in 2020 in the order I read them, with a few brief thoughts. (This took me a hot second because there are a few and also I moved cities) Should I keep a consistent goodreads? Yes I should but I didn’t think of that at the time, so bone apple teeth & sorry if I offend you abt your faves x

P.S. I can’t figure out how to do a read more on mobile so long post ahead!

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas - This is one of the most vivid published fantasy books I have ever read... I read it twice in rapid succession. The fandom POPS off. I must say I have issues with certain aspects e.g. fae lore completely ignored à la Twilight, all love interests 500+ years old and technically a different species, etc (I’m not going to deconstruct the entire series here but just know that I could... Nesta deserves better)

Cruel Prince by Holly Black - This fucking slaps, HB clearly has done her research, the lore is near immaculate, and it explores the Fae in such a unique way, tying it to the modern world subtly and seamlessly. My only qualm was that the books felt quite short; truly wish there had been more content.

Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas (6/7) - So basically I read this in one single, hyperfixated fit which meant I literally locked myself in my room for three days straight and read all six books back to back in a row from morning to the wee hours. Which is not to say it was spectacular; although it was a VERY rich world, sometimes it was too much... this felt like 6 stories in one. Ik she was young when she wrote this but it is my humble opinion that SJM needs a better editor & I personally think Rowan is a grade A asshole / straight up abusive (& personally think the ACOTAR Tamlin plot was born from that?). It’s good but not as good as ACOTAR. Skip-read the last book.

Grishaverse (Shadow and Bone) by Leigh Bardugo (3) - This is essential to read before SOC but was very much simply a YA fantasy book, although the world was cool and the way the love plot played out was, imo, a subtle middle finger to the fantasy trope. Felt very much aimed at younger readers though? Really liked the sandwhich structure of the Proluge and Epilogue, especially in #2

Six of Crows series by Leigh Bardugo (2) - INCREDIBLE continuation of Grishaverse, better than the original series by a mile. It has the range, the diversity, the representation (the male lead is a disabled asexual and still the most cunning of the entire cast of characters), the plot is phenomenal, and it manages such a well rounded plot in only two books which means nothing is stretched out or squeezed in more than need be. Deserves all the praise it gets.

King of Scars series by Leigh Bardugo (0.5/1) - Personally I don’t consider this book canon, and while it’s nice to see the rest of Nina’s journey & the world again & everyone else, I don't like it. I will, however, be reading book 2 when it comes out, so shame on me, I suppose.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (1/1) - this was incredibly cool although it went off in a completely different direction than I thought it would based off the first few chapters? One of my favourite YA-author-debuts-New-Adult novels in 2020 though!

Crescent City by Sarah J Maas (1/1) - This was supposed to be SJM/s New Adult debut, although personally I would put her other series in New Adult, and I can’t say a remarkable amount was different with this except they said “fuck” and “ass” a lot. WHY is the romantic interest 500 years old AGAIN. I just... don’t... I just don’t think it was necessary... the world was cool though, and the last half of the book was riveting, but the beginning was quite slow and I thought the sword thing was predictable. I am interested to see where this goes though.

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab (3) - This world is so fucking cool... four Londons aka parallel universes & the one in ‘our’ world is set in industrial era London. Magic, girls dressing up as boys, thieves, pirates, royalty... it all just slaps. Schwab is an incredible writer & I was completely immersed.

Midnight Sun by SMeyer - I didn’t think anything could possibly detract even further from the Twilight story but I was sorely mistaken... seeing the stalking from Edward’s POV - and it was worse than depicted in Twilight, for the record - completely obliterated any sort of romance the first half of the original book may have portrayed. I still hold the opinion that the entire series would have been better if some kind of vampire lore had been abided by, if only to see all of the villains thwarted by someone dropping a bag of rice on the ground, forcing them to have to count them all.

An ember in the Ash by Sabaa Tahir (3/4) - This was just a very stereotypical ya fantasy series, emphasis on the YOUNG... it wasn’t anything to write home about but I remember quite enjoying it at the time.

The Power by Naomi Alderman - This book is FUCKING incredible and EXCEPTIONALLY thought provoking... essentially women alone develop a power of electric shock etc. and then take over the world from men, and it explores feminism and the balance between equality & tipping the scales in the other direction. Written by a friend of M.Atwood in a similar tone to handmaids tale, I would say? Content warning; there are some exceptionally graphic scenes in the latter half of the novel.

Hamlet by Wllm Shksp - I can’t believe it took me this long to finally read it but Ophelia is my favourite name in the entire world & we love to see a woman go batshit (although she didn’t deserve that).

Catherine House by Elisabeth Thomas - this was unsettling in the best sense of the word... it was a little slow & honestly more of a concept than a big reveal, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I finished it? A Secret History vibes but make it blurry like the memory of all those dystopian novels you read when you were young?

The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue by V.E. Schwab - This is without a doubt my book of the year, and probably the best book I read in 2020? I stayed up all night on a friend’s couch reading it, got a book hangover and reread the ending, and then thrust it upon my mother who doesn’t usually read but read this, and loved it just as much. HIGHLY recommend and you HAVE to read it, it’s beautiful and endearing and just plain wonderful.

Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat (3/3) - I went into this knowing it was going to be terrible, because I had received a blow by blow telling me as much; although I must say that it did learn a remarkable amount of new words, the books did get better as the series went on, and it did have a rather charming ending? BIG content warning for almost everything.

Sapiens by Yuval Harari - mind-expanding & must recommend for everyone, there is everything in this and I daresay everyone should posses this kind of knowledge? I listened to it as an audiobook (which I recommend because it’s rather hearty) but will be buying this in hardcopy & rereading it with annotations.

Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - Without a doubt, one of the most beautiful novels I have ever read, and certainly the most beautiful portrayal of the story of Achilles and the battle of Troy I have ever seen. Patroclus deserved the justice that was given to him in this book; indeed, all of the characters were written with justice and grace. Highly recommend.

Trials of Apollo by Rick Riordan (3/5) - Apollo is my favourite Greek God, and the sexiest greek god, and Rick Riordan’s writing slaps, as always. It did pain me to see Apollo, the sexy immortal, have to be forced back into a 16 year old’s body but everything else? Whimsical & wonderful, as expected.

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong - a retelling of Romeo and Juliette, except it’s set in Shanghai in the 1920′s, and the protagonists already have a history. Very well done, characters are incredibly diverse in race, sexual orientation, gender, and ability / disability (and honestly, representation has never appeared so effortless and elegant). Also it includes a monster and possible magic. Incredibly underrated and highly recommend.

The Once and Future Witches by Alix. E Harrow - this was such a unique concept, and truly captivating, the story was charming, and felt like the kind of beautiful fairytale you would read as children but with more grit? ABSOLUTELY recommend this one

The Pisces by Melissa Broder - I hated this so much, not my vibe at all. Mermaid smut x therapy but make it cynical and judgemental (I know there was a moral in there but that’s not my point) also the dog dies.

Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith (1/2) - really interesting & unique concept (all unwritten novels / ideas reside in a special library that is part of Hell and then sometimes the books can come to life) however, my first thought upon reading this was “this reads as if it’s stemmed from one of those writing prompt tumblr posts” bc of the tone and whatever and as it turns out I was somewhat correct, it did stem from a short story (not bad just obvious). It did kind of settle down as it went on but I found reading it kind of a drag, and I don’t think I will read the second one.

Abandon by Meg Cabot - 1. Meg Cabot’s writing always fucking slaps 2. Hades and Persephone but make it modern & very 2000′s & somehow kind of unique 3. I literally loved this, sue me

Medusa Girls (Sweet Venom) by Tera Childs - Like Percy Jackson except they are descendants of Medusa so they are Gorgons and have fangs & venom (hence the title). Gave me very 2000′s vibes? Quite cool but tbh I found the books quite short (like two hours each, if that)? Do NOT read the GoodReads description of the book before you read it, you will spoil it for yourself.

Bring me their Hearts by Sara Wolf - In my opinion, this is one of the most underrated YA series I read in 2020. The heroine is endearing, self aware, witty, and loves to look pretty even while kicking ass which in my opinion is an incredibly underrated trait. Also, immortality without being hundreds of years old? VERY sexy. HIGHLY recommend.

A Deal with the Elf King by Elise Kova - High commendation to be given for the fact that it is a standalone and yet manages to fit in the plot of what would usually be a full fantasy trilogy without cutting corners or being a million miles long? Also sweet storyline & beautiful ending? If you liked ACOTAR you should read this as a “what would have / could have been had SJM had a different editor” (No shade I promise).

The Iron Fae by Julie Kagawa (4/4 + novellas) - Incredibly detailed faerie set around the modern world & our current use of technology & iron in it. Very neat adventure-style series, by the time I read the last novella I was well and truly done with the world (aka provided enough content to be fulfilling). Was definitely aimed at a younger audience though, NO smut / smut was brushed over.

The Modern Faerie Tales by Holly Black (3/3 SS) - This is technically the prequel to Cruel prince, set in the modern world, but with the fae world inside it as it traditional? All I have to say is that it is excellent & I highly recommend it.

Bridgerton series (The Duke and I) by Julia Quinn (9/9) - I read this after watching the Netflix show twice through and I am obsessed, although the books were not quite as elegant as the show, and some parts that made me cringe either by their portrayal (it is very firmly set in the 19th century and thus some things are not handled with tact or grace), the characters were exceptionally loveable and I am so excited to see where the show takes them! Lovely language & an abundance of words I had never seen before (always a plus).

#the number of these which I hate with a passion now #fuck my life #HATE SJM #MAD about grishaverse #ASHAMED of bridgerton and the feminism leeched from my soul after reading this

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 4.8}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.6k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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It was the middle of April when Robin finished the very last of Snape's book collection. The day she returned the very last book to him was both a sad and an exciting one, for Robin wasn't entirely sure what he would give her to do next. To her disappointment, he merely remarked that she had read everything he could give her at the present time, and then continued with his work as if it was nothing special. Maybe it wasn't… but somehow Robin had hoped for a little praise at least, if not a prospect of what to do next. Thus she stuck to doing class assignments and readings for a while (she managed half a week, which was already more than anticipated), until at last she just couldn't handle the lack of private studies anymore.

She had already finished most of the library books about potions, herbology, and magical creatures, which is why she decided to find a new topic to read up on rather than trying to find more books on the topics she already had studied profoundly. Thus she started reading all the books about the dark arts the library had to offer, but more out of interest in the mysteries that hid behind the generic title than out of preference for the correlating class. And really, it was a weirdly broad topic. Everything that wasn't allowed or was dangerous to use fell into this category, but more often than not Robin wondered why exactly something was considered 'forbidden' or at least unappreciated to use. Sure, most of the things described in her newest reads were potentially harmful for someone involved, but honestly, so were kitchen knives, or golf clubs, or cars. And nobody bothered forbidding them either.

That's the only revelation she's had by the time exams rolled around, and the exact point where she found herself stuck at now as she sat in the potions classroom like always, on a Friday evening in the second week of June. Not even a week before she would have to go back to her parents' house for the summer.

"Do you have a minute?" Robin asked as she looked over at Snape to her right with an inquiring expression. Some time in March she had started sitting at the side table next to his desk rather than at her usual seat in the students' rows when she came here for coffee and work at night. Admittedly, she'd occasionally been sitting there way before March already, whenever students were in the classroom for detention, but somehow after one particularly detention-heavy week in March, she hadn't bothered going back to her original seat, and he hadn't bothered asking her to. That's how she came to sit at the table next to his desk permanently now, in the evenings at least.

"Of course. I wanted to talk to you about a certain issue anyway, but feel free to start." He replied and closed the book he'd been reading for the last hour to meet Robin's gaze.

"You probably noticed that I've been reading up on the whole 'dark arts' thing over the last weeks, except for the week studying for my exams that is, and well… I just don't understand why there is such a thing as dark arts in the first place." Robin shrugged and closed her own book as well. "It's just more spells that happen to be a tad more dangerous than others. But the danger is just a potential, isn't it? I mean… the magic isn't good or bad in itself, it's the person using it who determines that. And calling it 'dark magic' is kind of taking the responsibility of making this choice from the witch or wizard who makes it."

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I mean…" She sighed and paused for a second to think of a good example. "Take a kitchen knife, for example. It's just a tool in itself, and only because some people use it to stab others doesn't make it inherently bad, nor do the people who use it to chop vegetables make it an inherently good thing. It has the potential to be both, and if one isn't aware of that, there always is a danger in its use."

"I agree."

"So why do we learn in school that there is good magic and bad magic? Why don't we learn to work with the responsibility of dealing with a neutral magic that leaves it entirely up to us how to use it?" That was the actual question Robin had been meaning to ask, but it had taken a while to find a way to phrase it.

"Because it is easier to keep people on a predetermined path if you map it out in front of them. Tell them what you think is good by giving them something that is bad in contrast, and the majority will let it guide them according to your very wish. That is how politics work, and as despicable as it is, the school is a political issue no matter what the headmaster says. Also, the dunderheads we teach couldn't deal with such a responsibility."

"That doesn't sound like an answer a professor would normally give." Robin smiled in amusement at his last comment.

"Your questions aren't something a student would normally ask." He returned with a shrug and an expression that made Robin chuckle.

"I guess you're right about that. And I do see your point. Thanks for the honest answer." She sighed and felt like he was probably right. What is taught and what isn't was all politics… and that meant it didn't always make sense. Huh, what a sad end for her private studies of the mysterious dark arts.

"Of course I'm honest with you, there would be no point in anything else."

"So… what issue did you want to talk about?" Robin inquired a few seconds later and tried not to showcase her curiosity all too much.

"There have been rumors for a while now…" He started, and Robin grew nervous immediately. Rumors were always bad, and somehow she always seemed to be entirely oblivious to them. Most of them at least.

"If it's that one that I failed transfiguration, that is entirely made up! I got an 'Exceeds Expectations' on this year's exam, and McGonagall was merely making a joke when she said she would give me a 'Dreadful' if I kept going over the maximum essay length!" Robin blurted out before Snape even had a chance to continue with what he meant to say.

"That is a rumor I have been entirely unaware of, but seeing as I know of your grades, it is also entirely irrelevant." He replied with a doubtful expression. "Is that the only rumor you have heard of?"

"Well, yeah…" Robin shrugged and looked down at her table as she bit her bottom lip. "Recently, yes." Maybe she shouldn't be so exclusively concerned about her own issues and actually start taking notice of the real world more often.

"There has been talk for a good two weeks about an unofficial end of term celebration. A party, hosted by a group of sixth years for the entire house and whoever is invited. Obviously the professors are not to know of this happening, but I like to pay attention to the ongoings within the student community. You don't happen to know anything more about the issue, do you?" His eyebrows rose in question, and for some reason Robin felt as if he seriously expected her to know what he was talking about.

A Slytherin party everyone was invited to… well, everyone except for Robin as it seemed. She didn't usually care about these things, but somehow it hurt a little nonetheless that absolutely nobody had bothered inviting her. Did her roommates know about this? Or were the first years generally excluded? She had absolutely no idea, she hadn't even heard of it at all. Hell, even Snape knew more about it than she did! A burning shame with a hollowing tail of pathetic sadness crept from the pit of her stomach up to her heart and wrapped it in a veil of unwanted shadows.

"I… didn't even know there was a party at all. This is the first time I hear about it." She finally managed to reply, but her voice was way too quiet for her own liking. Really, this shouldn't even be bothering her! "I would tell you if I knew anything about it, I promise. I'm sorry…"

For a moment, Snape actually looked fairly uncomfortable upon her words, and Robin wondered if she had said anything stupid yet again. But she had no idea what it could be, and therefore she simply looked down at her book in silence. She would like to help him, really… but there was little she could do now.

"Do you even speak to the people in your year at all?" He asked after a moment, honestly inquiring rather than scolding her.

"I do talk to Theresa usually…" Robin shrugged. "Only about class issues though. Some other people outside of my own house too. But the only students in Slytherins I talk to are Cas and Jorien, and while they're both extraordinarily bright and truly lovely girls, they're far from being familiars to me. Maybe they know more about the party than I do though. I could ask them, if you would like."

"There will be no need for that. I was hoping you knew about it, but otherwise I have no intention to intervene."

"You don't?" Robin looked up with a frown. "But aren't they breaking a bunch of rules?"

"I would assume so. However as long as they stay within the castle and do not wander… I usually ignore occurrences like this."

"Why?"

"Because there isn't even half a week of term left, and I would rather spend that in peace and quiet than with fifty students in detention. As long as they do not cause or suffer any harm, I let them proceed and get it over with."

"Then why did you ask me about it in the first place?"

"I was wondering what kept you from attending, seeing as you still were here and not on your way. And I was curious about the specifics of the event, which I unfortunately have not had the luck to overhear."

"Even if I had known about this stupid party, I probably wouldn't have gone anyway." Robin shrugged with a badly feigned indifference. "I'm no fan of those events, nor would I have been appreciated there as it seems."

"Then why does it upset you that you were previously unaware of it?"

"I'm not upset." Robin shot right back, but upon his 'who are you kidding' expression, she rolled her eyes and gave a truthful response. "I mean… yes, I'm inattentive to these things sometimes, as I don't particularly care about the students' world, but if even the professors know about this stupid party… I just can't imagine that I merely missed the talk about it, which obviously has been going on if you could overhear it. Which in return means that I was intentionally excluded. That's just… I don't know. I shouldn't be upset about it, I don't even like these people. It's unreasonable to be sad about it."

"Emotions usually are unreasonable." He mused in return and Robin found herself nodding on instinct. Emotions are unreasonable, but they are an unavoidable pain in the butt nonetheless.

"So… that party is tonight?" Robin asked then, for she didn't know what else to say.

"It should be happening right now, however I am unaware of the specific location. You are intelligent though, certainly you could find out where it takes place."

"Oh, I wasn't asking because of that. I know when I'm not welcome. And as I said, I don't care about parties. Or crowds. Or other people. I'm quite happy with the company I have." She stated and hoped that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable again, but he just listened to her words with the usual undivided attention, which brought a small smile to Robin's lips as she added, "The only thing I miss is the-..."

"Music?"

"Yes!" Her smile widened to a visible degree where it reached her eyes as well. "How did you know?"

He didn't reply, and only kept looking at Robin for a moment in silence accompanied by an expression of contemplation. Finally he turned away, and stood up. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Robin frowned as she complied though and followed Snape out of the classroom, which he locked behind them before heading down the hallway.

"You will see." Was the only and very much cryptic reply he gave, and somehow Robin didn't feel as much nervous about the situation as purely excited. She didn't bother hiding her smirk, and only ignored the renewing waves of pleasant tingles on her skin as she followed him up the stairs and through the empty castle.

They passed by any location Robin could've imagined Snape to lead her to, and only moved from one story up to the next until they arrived on the seventh floor. What the hell was he up to? Robin didn't have an inkling, and only grew even more confused when he told her to stay standing in the middle of a random crossing of hallways. But she obeyed without questioning him (he wouldn't have given an answer anyway) and stood frozen to the spot as she watched with a humored frown on her face how he paced up and down the hallway in front of her. Upon her chuckles however, she received a small glare that made her bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from straight out laughing. Whatever he was doing, it was both irritating and amusing.

Both sentiments faded from Robin's mind in a moment's notice however once a large door started materializing in the very wall she stood facing. It was almost as large as the one leading to the great hall, but undoubtedly more ornamented, and Robin's lips parted as she stared at the unusual occurrence in awe.

"After you." He said in manner that for him was unusually smug, and Robin's heart skipped a beat as she moved to open the door indeed.

What lay beyond it was undoubtedly the most peculiar and yet the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. A room larger than she could fathom currently, larger than she ever would've imagined to be found inside this castle, filled with mountains upon mountains of various objects stacked upon each other in complete randomness. The things found in here were absolutely overwhelming in their incredible amount and diversity, and Robin didn't even know where to look first as she stood helplessly frozen in the doorway. It was rather overwhelming indeed.

"Welcome to the room of requirement, or in this instance, the room of hidden things." Snape said in a more quiet tone now, as he steered Robin further into the room by her shoulders so that he could close the door behind them.

"What on earth is this?" Robin wondered as she let her eyes travel over the mountains of objects. There was one of everything in existence in here, she was absolutely sure of that. Maybe she was just dreaming all of this. She didn't care to wake up though.

"A mystery, and a secret. The room of requirement is a peculiar piece of magic, as it turns into whatever someone needs the most in the instant. It can be made to appear in the way you just witnessed, by having a clear picture of what it is one needs in mind. The room of hidden things is one of the countless forms the room of requirement can take on, and it has been used to hide and store any kind of thing for centuries."

"It's absolutely incredible, it's…" Robin replied quietly, too awestruck to even bother hiding the sentiment, and finally unfroze enough to saunter through the mountains of things. "Something so entirely impossible that it just has to exist."

"Indeed. It is almost impossible to find by accident, and the vast majority of people is unaware of the existence of this room in the first place. I would like for it to remain that way."

"I won't lose a word about it. I promise." Robin finally could tear her eyes off the room to look at Snape once more. "Why did you bring me here though? If it's such a secret, why take the risk?"

"You are no risk, I am well aware of that." He replied easily, and Robin felt an immediate sense of pride in that. "I brought you here because in a place where there is everything, there is always what you are looking for."

Before Robin could ask what exactly he meant by that, he spoke a few more muttered words and then the deep silence of the huge hall was replaced by a crackle, and finally by the sound of music. Robin looked around to find a possible origin of it, but the source remained hidden from her sight. The sound alone sufficed to brighten her smile though, and she closed her eyes to simply listen in contentment. It had been so long since she had gotten to enjoy music without the disturbing sounds of people talking or dancing or moving… and music at Hogwarts generally was scarce anyway. So now, for a long while, she simply stood there in between the mountains of fascinating things with her eyes closed and let the sound wrap around her senses. She breathed in the music like the cold air of the night that didn't exist in here, for time wasn't a dimension of relevance in this place. Everything about this room was timeless, ancient and modern at once, and Robin felt like she had entered a different reality beyond the limits of imagination. An impossible reality indeed.

It was one of those rare moments where she felt flooded and filled up by an infinite number of highly intense emotions that blended together like colors to form a blinding white light. A moment where an unimaginable intensity of feeling didn't cause her to implode into darkness but to explode into blissful light. A moment she wouldn't forget. At last she opened her eyes again, and found that Snape was looking at her with a doubtful expression yet again.

"What?" She asked with a smile, frowning at him in return.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you concerned?"

"Yes."

"Wow… good to know that me being happy is such a scary sight." Robin let out a laugh she couldn't help and shook her head to herself. "Sorry, sarcasm isn't an appropriate answer to honesty. I'm very alright, actually. As close to perfect as I could be, I believe. Thank you for that."

"Get over it already, will you... It was merely music and a dusty old room, hardly something to be so very delighted about."

"You cannot seriously deny that you did something nice by bringing me here. It's not even possible to deny!" Robin laughed again and didn't even care if he scolded her for it.

"I can try." He replied with a glare and a scowl, and Robin smiled to herself as she looked down at the ground in a defeat as feigned as his distaste. Maybe she should help him with the trying.

"So, if you didn't bring me here to be nice, what did you hope to find in here then? Maybe I could help looking for it." She suggested with an innocent smile she actually could convey for once, even if only due to the fact that she would seriously love to have a look around.

"I shall see to that myself. Go ahead and look around if you wish to though, but I ask you to be careful and not to touch anything. Many of the objects in here are more harmful than they look."

"Well, if something happens to me, you could just leave my body in here and nobody will ever find it. Problem solved." Robin shrugged with a nonchalant expression, but a smirk came onto her lips nonetheless as Snape rolled his eyes in return.

"If you keep sassing me, I might actually consider that." He replied and turned to walk off without another glance, and Robin's jaw dropped in sheer amusement. Then, with the biggest grin on her face, she went to take a look around at last.

… … …

It was after almost an hour of searching through stuff by herself that Robin found something that made her stop and stare. Not because it was particularly noticeable or interesting in itself, but because it existed in the first place. That was odd enough to give Robin some serious chills. Maybe she should tell Snape about it… or better yet, show him. Because nobody would believe it otherwise.

"Uh, professor?" She called into the open room in the hopes that he would hear her, wherever he might be. "I… found something you should take a look at."

"Is it urgent or merely interesting?" He asked from somewhere off to the left, and Robin thought for a second.

"Well, urgent is the wrong word, but I don't think I want to leave this room without you seeing this. It's… remarkable." She finally replied with an insecure frown to herself, and at the object in question.

"Could you be even more imprecise than that?" He sounded annoyed, but was getting closer at least.

"It's no threat, if that's what you mean. Just… eerie." She finished the statement in a tone too quiet to be heard far, but a mere few seconds later he was standing next to her already.

"Now, what is so remarkable that I needed to see it?" He sighed with a look at Robin instead of the pile she stood in front of, but his eyes followed her line of sight even before she could answer his question and he froze at the sight just like Robin had. "That… is remarkable indeed."

"Told you so." She replied before she could decide better not to, but he let it slip anyway.

What they were both looking at now was a large, framed, but unmoving portrait. A portrait of a young woman who looked exactly like Robin, only perhaps a few years older. But the similarity was undeniable.

"Did you touch it?"

"Of course not!" Robin protested immediately. "I actually do take advice when I deem it useful!"

"Did anything else happen that might be considered unusual?"

"No… I was just looking at all the things, and then I saw this. Nothing moved, or glowed, or changed or whatever it could have done. A perfectly ordinary painting." She shrugged and finally averted her eyes from the image.

"Perhaps it is only a coincidence. Over the course of the centuries there surely have been a few people who look like you." He tried to reason, but also didn't sound too convinced about what he was saying.

"That would explain the similarity between her and me. But then how do you explain this?" Robin asked quietly, and pulled her necklace with the locket on it over the collar of her shirt into the open. "Look what she's wearing around her neck… A different necklace, admittedly, but the locket is the very same as mine."

For another two seconds he inspected the painting, then stepped so close to Robin that he could take the small piece of jewelry out of her hand and study it with the same intense gaze. Bloody hell… she would've taken the necklace off if he had just given her a moment longer to do so. Instead, he now stood so close that every single sense of hers was heightened to the unbearable. Hopefully he couldn't hear the ridiculous pace of her heart as it almost leapt out of her chest with every beat… if he did, she might just have to blame it on her scary similarity to the painting.

Somehow, the more she tried to ignore these things, the feelings and tingles and thoughts, the stronger they came lashing back at her in the end. It really was unfair. She didn't want to like him so much… and she didn't want to enjoy it. Hopefully this stupid teenage-crush thing would be over soon; she's had enough after a full year of repressing it.

"You have had this for a while, haven't you?" He finally spoke up again before he looked Robin in the eye for a few silent seconds, then dropped the locket and took a few steps backwards.

"What?" Robin's mind was in a minor haze, and she needed a second to remember how to breathe. Gods, this was ridiculous. It was torture and bliss at the same time. Maybe she could blame it on hormones, or something likely unlikely.

"The locket has been in your possession for how long?" He repeated, but without the feigned annoyance Robin had expected.

"I… bought it in an antiquity shop in Diagon Alley during the Christmas break of my first year here. That would be three and a half years ago." She finally got her brain to work again, and shook the unnecessary feelings out of her otherwise functioning system.

"And you have been wearing it ever since?"

"Yes."

"Anything unusual?"

"No. Not at all. I put the same charm on it as on my backpack though, but it has never caused me any problems." Robin shrugged with a calm expression. "Do you think this portrait is anything more than just a big coincidence?"

"I have no idea. But I have seen coincidences far stranger than this one, so it is very much possible that it is nothing more."

"I mean… last year, when we made that potion to see which spells had affected me, there was no influence of another kind on me other than that prank thing, right? So this shouldn't be affecting me, seeing as I've had the locket for far longer than that."

"I hadn't considered that, but I do agree. Perhaps it is merely a coincidence. Still, I-..."

"You expect me to tell you immediately when or if something odd occurs." Robin added before he could.

"Indeed." He replied with a small glare in return, but Robin didn't let it fool her at all as they left the portrait where it was and made their way back towards the doorway back into the real world.

"Did you find what you were looking for, by the way? The reason we came here?" She asked with a new smile, looking up at Snape once they stepped through the doors and into the dark hallway.

For a moment he simply returned her gaze in silence, giving her one of those enigmatic looks that said everything and nothing at once, until he finally replied with words once they started making their way back towards the dungeons. "Yes, I believe I did."

And yet, he hadn't taken a single thing out of the room he hadn't brought there himself in the first place; it was only Robin, and the very smile on her lips.

______________________________

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missjosie27 · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, My Love

Hey, everyone! It’s that time of year again and here is my gift that I wish to bestow. Merry Christmas, @lins-hogwarts-mystery I hope I did your MC justice.

A big thank you to @hphmsecretsanta2020 for organizing this again. I will always participate! Without further ado!

Clara Lin loved snow. The white powder of frozen ice crystals always held a special place in her heart since she was little playing in the fields of Oxford. At Hogwarts, Christmas time became that much more special. Even with the underlying horror cursed vaults, there was always time to celebrate the holidays in a merry fashion. This year in particular she and her friends agreed to stay behind and spend time together over the course of winter break.

And what better way to celebrate that than a snowball fight on Christmas Eve?

“I got you! HAHA-” WHAM!

Charlie Weasley’s momentary triumph was silenced by Tulip’s double decker snowball smashing him in the side of the face, causing everyone else to laugh.

Staying behind were also Rowan, Penny, Barnaby, and Tonks who were all participating in the battle of winter circa 1989. Even Merula had skipped out on going home and though she and Clara would never be best friends, the two were amicable enough to have a snowball fight without getting too intense...mostly. They were on different teams after all.

The contest played out within the training grounds, so there wasn’t much cover to be had as far as trees or underbrush but then again magic could make up for lack of natural cover. On one side was something akin to a medieval castle, complete with five foot high walls, a drawbridge, and a flag. The other was a giant circular wall, good for combating attacks from all sides but vulnerable to a possible sir attack. In any case, standing up even for the slightest moment was unwise as Charlie found out first hand.

“She’s got good aim,” he muttered rubbing his cheek while dodging another projectile.

Clara couldn’t help but giggle. Even the person with the best reflexes amongst their Gryffindor brethren could be sniped by the cleverest Ravenclaw.

“Bombs away!” Penny yelled out hucking up a snowball into the cloudy winds of nowhere.

“Best to aim a bit first,” Rowan chided kindly as she adjusted her glasses while gathering more snow in her vicinity for the purpose of more ammunition.

“Merula’s team is eating our lunch,” Charlie lamented. “We need a new strategy.”

“Ooo!! I can help!” squealed out the tiny voice of Clara’s little sister, Emily, otherwise known as ‘Em’. She was five years younger but often associated herself with her big sister’s friends and refused to not be included in the festivities. A first year Hufflepuff, she was eager to help but lacked imagination.

“Keep firing as many snowballs as you can,” Rowan assured her again in an understanding tone that placated the little girl. “I think I have an idea.”

The teams were equally divided- Clara, Charlie, Penny, and Rowan on side while Merula, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby were on the other. Em was considered young enough (and insignificant enough to the female Slytherin) that her presence was not decisive enough to affect the outcome. But any competition featuring Merula Snyde guaranteed to be intense. After all a rivalry did not subside just because the two girls had formally agreed to work together in finding the cursed vaults.

“What would that be? Now would actually be a good time,” Clara observed as more snowballs skimmed the top of their fort. Charlie had to chuck a few more of his own to prevent Tonks from getting any closer.

“Simple. We use a freezing charm to turn one of our snowballs into a giant ice ball. I’ll use a propulsion charm to send it forward. With any luck their castle should come crumbling down and victory ours!”

“What the heck? I’m in!” Penny said excitedly over the noise, her rosy cheeks becoming apparent in the winter weather which was fast becoming colder in the later afternoon. Pink contrasted her light blue outfit (she was also the only one still wearing a skirt). Charlie’s Quidditch reflexes served him well but even he couldn’t overcome the odds of beating four other teengers surrounded by a full blown fort.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to use magic. Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Em asked, naive to the fact that no one adhered to that rule during a wizard snowball fight.

“Em, they’re using magic already,” Clara said bluntly, her practical nature coming into play already. She adjusted her glasses (being practically blind without them) and peeked out over the top and sure enough, saw the evidence needed to prove her accusation.

“Merula...I knew it,” she breathed out, frost emanating from her lips. “A banishing charm.”

“So that’s why those snowballs keep coming in so hot,” Rowan said, rubbing a gloved hand underneath her chin.

“And Tonks is using her metamorphagus ability to turn her nose into a trunk!” Charlie added, tossing another snowball back the other way and ducking down. “Bloody, cheater.”

“Then I say we hold nothing back,” Clara suggested.

“Sure that won’t be a problem with Barnaby?” Penny teased.

“He’s six foot three and can eat three turkeys in one setting, he’ll be fine,” the Gryffindor girl responded with a small blush trying to ignore feeling the pang of guilt at the idea of pelting him with snowballs. But there was no time to waste and when it came to December battles amongst the powdery, ice cream hills of Hogwarts all bets were off.

“Let’s do this,” Rowan remarked. Taking out her wand and removing one of her gloves, she summoned one of the snowballs while the rest their magic to summon snow from the ground to steadily grow it to the size of a grapefruit, spinning like the back wheel of a car, glistening in the glowing pink light of the evening sky.

“Now it’s really time for bombs away,” Penny giggled fond of muggle sayings.

“Oh I’d say so,” Rowan grinned mischievously. “Once that thing blows open their fort wall, Clara you and Charlie charge forth and win the battle.”

“What should I do?” little Em asked, still eager to help.

“Just keep throwing snowballs with Penny and Rowan, okay?” Clara ordered. She was quite protective of her sister even in light hearted situations such as these. Besides, despite being the most practical of the group the sixteen year old carried a competitive streak of her own.

“Three...two...one...NOW!”

At Clara’s command, Rowan muttered the necessary incantation and sent the massive ice ball at top speed towards their adversaries. Such was the speed, it had no trouble bursting through their castle with such force that it did exactly as Rowan foretold.

“CHARGE!” Charlie howled above the din as he and Clara rushed forward dodging strikes issued by their opponents, weaving and somersaulting in and out before performing an attack of their own.

“Eat snow! Take this!” Clara laughed as she struck Tulip and then fired another shot at Merula which caught her straight in the face (she never tired of one upping the Slytherin girl). But when wheeling around to do the same to Barnaby she came upon a strange sight. Her boyfriend didn’t seem to have his heart in the friendly competition at all. On the contrary, handsome, chiseled features were flat and carried a degree of melancholy unusual especially on Christmas.

My love, what’s the matter?

But before Clara could drop her snowballs and inquire further, someone beat her to the punch as a powerful burst of white exploded in the face of the burly Slytherin.

“Yes!” Charlie Weasley yelled out triumphantly. But Clara was not out of danger just yet, in her hesitation a projectile just missed the back of her head and only because Barnaby moved her out of the way just in time.

“Merula!” he said crossly. “Come on, don’t cheat.”

“Speak for yourself,” the Slytherin witch said with equal disdain. “We said no magic and yet here we are.”

“You broke the rule first,” Charlie argued.

“Right like you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Enough,” Clara cut across the cacophony of argument which was reaching a boiling point. “It’s getting dark. Let’s go back inside.”

Her insistence, as well as her leadership qualities over the group won over as the magically flying snowballs ceased and even Merula despite her snarling, gave in to logic though it was apparent from the look on her face she would have continued given the opportunity.

“Fine, Lin,” she said with a shrug that failed to hide its competitiveness.

Whistling over, Clara signaled to Rowan, Penny, and her sister that the fight was over but that was not the end of the drama. Looking back towards Barnaby, the sadness etched on his face had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Are you okay?” she asked kindly, mittened hands interjoing for a brief moment before Barnaby pulled away.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure don’t look fine.”

Barnaby was much better at hiding his emotions than a certain other Slytherin and gave a smile that would have seemed natural were it not for the previous circumstances.

“Don’t worry about me, Clara. We have a whole Christmas ahead of us. And pudding!” he added excitedly.

The childlike enthusiasm that normally enraptured her would have normally worked, but being the sensible Gryffindor she was (a rarity in the house of the brave) could tell this was not the entire story. Nevertheless, she did not press further...for now.

“Alright.”

She was given an affectionate kiss before the group trudged back to the castle as the light decreased and the day drew to a close. Even holding hands walking to the entrance felt oddly out of place.

“Good match, Clara Lin,” Tulip said with a wink. “See ya tomorrow for the feast.”

“Bye, Clara!” Penny waved cheerfully as she descended towards the basement and thereby the kitchens.

With the exception of her housemates and sister with whom she shared a common room, everyone waved a hearty goodbye but her boyfriend did not say anything other than giving a quick kiss on the forehead before lumbering off quickly behind Merula. How ironic it should be that the youngest among them should voice aloud her suspicions.

“Barnaby seemed sad,” Em mentioned as they approached the fat lady.

“Hm?” Clara asked, not expecting such a comment from her eleven year old sister.

“He kissed you but not the usual way,” came the innocent response. “Maybe he’s homesick.”

“Barnaby’s fine, I’m sure of it. If he says so, I believe him.”

“Do you believe everything I’ve told you.”

Clara rolled her eyes at her little sister.

“It’s different with siblings, Em. You’re just lucky mum told me to let you tag along.”

“I didn’t need to tag along to know your boyfriend didn’t wanna throw snowballs.”

At this conjecture, Rowan gave the password (Festum Maximus) but not before the remark caused Clara to pause for a brief second before continuing into the common room. She knew Barnaby and would be aware of any personal problem or grief he had within his psyche.

Right?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clara briefly forgot about the snowball fight after sharing some hot cocoa with Charlie and then some brief but good natured gossip with Rowan. The two girls discussed all manner of things as they usually did- presents, family, relationships, and what they would wear to the feast the next day however fancy or casual. But soon the warm and coziness of their dormitory overtook them and without fuss or fanfare fell asleep into the soft snows into the night, falling down silently within the December darkness.

By morning, however, the same excitement came upon them both as light permeated through the stained glass windows. The snow had since ceased, but a fresh layer of powder brought more excitement to an otherwise extremely white Christmas. And presents were waiting.

“Race you down!” Rowan said with a laugh as she bounded out of her bed, blue robe flying behind her.

“No you don’t!” Clara shouted back.

It wasn’t long until they were opening presents of which there were many laying under the tree. Charlie was already one step ahead of them, a blue Weasley sweater with a large ‘W’ inscribed on the front courtesy of the kindly Mrs. Weasley whom Clara had acquainted with by now.

“Happy Christmas, Clara!” the redhead said cheerfully.

“Happy Christmas to you too, Charlie.”

“You two seem to have quite a few gifts. Don’t hold back on my account,” Charlie said with a good natured chuckle and waggle of the eyebrows.

Neither of the girls did. Trying to be sensitive to the fact that her best male friend (aside from her boyfriend) did not come from wealth, Clara and Rowan opened their presents slowly and with a degree of caution. The latter came from a naturally wealthy family due to the success of their tree farm while the former, not rich by any stretch of the imagination, still accrued enough gifts to acquire a sizeable load- treacle fudge from Hagrid, a Gryffindor Quidditch scarf from Charlie, a cookbook from Em (‘haha’ she thought sardonically given her lack of skill in making cuisine of any type), a red dress from Penny hand stitched, a new mug from Rowan, further sweets from Mrs. Weasley, and a book on Chinese Mandarin from her parents, no doubt to further education as a potential ambassador like they wanted. Annoying, but even so Clara knew her parents loved her all the same despite their flaws.

After an hour or so she thought that all of her presents had been opened until Rowan flipped her one last gift, missed originally from the large pile.

“It’s from Barnaby,” she explained.

Of course! How could I have forgotten?

Clara hoped he had enjoyed his gift down in the dungeons (Newt Scamander’s latest book on creatures) but had not yet detected his own token of gratitude. It was actually quite small- a little rectangular box no bigger than ten centimeters wrapped in red and green paper with sparkles topped with a golden bow. All in all the decoration by itself was impressive.

Opening up, her jaw almost dropped.

It was a moving photo of Clara and her family before Jacob disappeared. Everyone appeared radiantly happy but there was reason for it. Right away she discerned that this was the photo she’d given Barnaby three years at the end of their third year before parting ways. A wave of nostalgia hit her as she witnessed her parents smiling and waving, Jacob’s tepid nervousness at what he was about to face, his younger sister giving a gigantic hug, while little Emily sucked on a pacifier, blissfully content in doing so. The meaning was not lost on the sixth year Gryffindor: a time when her family had been happy and unspoiled by the loss of a child. The photo was framed in silver and carried a heartfelt note.

May your family always guide you even in the darkest of times.

-Love, Barnaby

Wiping her eyes, Clara looked up towards Rowan and Charlie who had also noticed the scene.

“This was so beautiful,” she spoke quietly.

“Aw, hun,” Rowan comforted sitting beside her, embracing the fireside. “You know he’d do anything for you.”

“I’m wondering...maybe Em wasn’t so crazy. What if he really was struggling with something and I ignored him?”

“You’ll see him at the feast,” Charlie reasoned, playing with a dragon toy Bill had given him from Gringotts. “And I’m sure he’ll love how much you appreciated the gift.”

Clara supposed that might be true but she couldn’t help but feel something was amiss. Either way, her cursebreaker instincts would be put to the test in finding out the truth. Barnaby never held back from her. He was always jolly and upbeat, why should this holiday season be any different?

I just hope I’m not too late….

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The Hogwarts feast was as grand as it always was- twelve enormous fir trees decorated with an array of colorful ornaments decked the halls, wreaths, mistletoe, and holly hung from the ceiling in a wide array of patterns. Along the tables belonging to each house lay a smorgasbord of dishes- roast turkey, mashed potatoes, sprouts, chicken, green beans, pudding, treacle tart, and so much more. The kitchen pulled out all the stops and Professor Dumbledore sitting at the head of the staff table gave his stamp approval, his blue eyes twinkling with holiday joy.

“To the many few who opted to stay behind for our voluptuous feast I say- tuck in.”

Charlie roared with approval as he ravenously delved into the goodies with Clara and Rowan not far behind. It didn’t take long for the rest of the group to show up- Penny, Tulip, Tonks, etc. They were the only one among the sixth years that had stayed behind with a mere handful of younger students hanging around awkwardly by themselves. The teenage Gryffindor would have given more thought to them were it not for the fact that she was anticipating a certain someone.

“Have you seen, Barnaby?” she would ask every time a new guest sat down at the Gryffindor table (it didn’t matter who sat where at this point). No one knew. Her sister remained blissfully unaware of course by the time she arrived, bragging about how many presents received that year.

Though trying to enjoy the scrumptious feast at hand, Clara couldn’t but look up every so often or so for her boyfriend...which by Rowan’s calculations was every five minutes.

“You’re not even eating,” came her best friend’s admonishment. “Relax, he’ll be here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“He can eat more than the rest of us combined. Why would he miss the opportunity?” Charlie reasoned.

“The feast is his favorite part of Christmas,” Penny said, reaching across and squeezing Clara’s hand.

Despite the kindly reassuring of her friends, it wasn’t until Clara caught a flash of green that she truly began to seek out answers. Unfortunately, the green sweater did not belong to a burly man of about 190 centimeters but of a Slytherin girl recognized as her greatest rival (and pest at times). Merula joined their table without fanfare but right away everyone could tell there was something amiss. Far from being a ‘friendly’ person you could always count on a sarcastic or snarky remark from Merula Snyde. Not so this time around.

“Lin. I think you need to go see Barnaby,” she stated bluntly, getting straight to the point.

The table immediately ceased eating at this development, not that Clara had consumed much beforehand.

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Are you deaf, Lin? The bighead isn’t even interested in eating and that’s saying something…” she huffed in frustration knowing sensitivity wasn’t her strong suit and tried to deliver the news more amicably. “Just see him, okay? He doesn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

Were this their first year, the amount of trust in Merula would have been below that of a snake. But five years later, she would not have informed Clara of something that delicate were it not of serious importance. They were collaborative rivals after all...not bitter enemies. At least not anymore.

“Where is he?” came the simple question.

“In the courtyard freezing his arse off. Just...don’t let him do anything stupid. More than he already does.”

Clara wasted no time in getting up from the table. She didn’t even bother to look back at the reactions her friends may or may not have had. The hunch of the previous day had been right...but she’d fail to recognize it. For Merlin’s sake even little Em could tell. What was so deficient within herself that her own boyfriend stood out on Christmas alone in the cold?”

“Sis?” Em called out but it was no use. She was out of the Great Hall before anyone could say so much as ‘Doris Crockford.’

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It didn’t take long for Clara to reach the desired destination. So frantic was her pace, there was barely time to button up her jacket, pull on her black knit gloves and hat, while also adjusting her hair into its usual long ponytail. But none of that mattered. Personal comfort could be foregone in the face of a significant other suffering needlessly. Numerous anxious thoughts raced through the brain upon the approach, seeing that he was dressed in a dark brown jacket, jeans, a blue and red hat with a puffball on top complete with calf level brown boots.

Something was wrong...something was wrong and I didn’t bother to ask. I just assumed. What if I made him upset? What if he wants to break up?

“Calm yourself, Clara,” she admonished herself. “Barnaby wouldn’t hold back anything from you.”

Despite that attempt at reassurance, it didn’t do much for her nerves. That being said, a Gryffindor did what was necessary in spite of fear. For better or worse, this Christmas conversation had to occur. For Merlin’s sake, even Merula knew when something was off. But the analytical mind wouldn’t let the issue go until she found out what plagued him so.

“Barnaby!” the cursebreaker said in a tone that fully betrayed her anxiety. “Merula told me you were out here. Is everything okay?”

“Did you like your present?”

The simple reply, a question to a question. In fact she was so taken aback by it, words failed her for a brief moment.

“I-uh….yes. Of course I did, but that’s not the reason I came out here.”

She took both his hands in hers, noting just how much taller he was in situations like these. It took quite the effort to kiss him but the primary concern lay with the heart- underneath the archway of the west aqueduct in the courtyard, twinkling white crystals winking in the late early morning sun. Both of their breaths resonated but only one had trouble looking the other in the eye.

“Was my present not what you wanted? I know you’re interested in being a Magizoolist but if there was something else I could get you instead…”

A finger pressed against her rosy, red lips.

“But did you like mine?”

The question, being repeated twice became a source of puzzlement now.

“Barnaby I already told you I loved it. It’s not often I get to see a picture of my family whole like that…” she paused, narrowing her eyes but not unkindly. “Why?”

“If you’re happy that’s all I care about on this special day.”

“But if you’re not, how can this day be special?” Clara countered. “Please...don’t keep me out. What’s wrong. Merula sees it and so can I.”

There could be so many explanations as to why her boyfriend was upset. But this wasn’t a cursed vault where a keen, undiluted mind could be put to the task in finding it. It didn’t require analytics, but empathy.

Barnaby stuffed mittened hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning his head to the side.

“I...I thought if you could realize how important your family is to you maybe it might help...with mine,” he breathed out.

“What do you-oh…” Clara said, letting out a soft sigh of realization. “Your dad.”

“Yes.”

“He yelled at you again in a letter.”

“No.”

“He disowned you?”

“No.”

“He said something-”

“Clara,” the sixteen year old Slytherin said sharply though the aim of his emotions was not directed towards her. “He didn’t send me anything this year. Nothing.”

It took a second for the Gryffindor to sink that in her brain.

“Nothing?”

“Our relationship has been bad for awhile. But at least he sent me presents. Heck, he liked that I was good at fighting and eating. I love both those things.”

“You’re more than just a fighter and an eater,” she soothed in a soft tone, rubbing his arm. “You know that.”

“I do,” he said, still not looking directly at her. “But with me constantly disobeying his wishes and taking my own path in life...it makes me realize my family has always been rubbish. Those presents were only under the three if I did what he said...and the wrapping paper was always lousy!” he added.

Clara had an inkling of what her boyfriend’s life was like but not much beyond a few short stories and traumatizing incidents he never liked to discuss. But to be cut off completely well that was news to her. And it wasn’t fair.

“Sweetie, listen,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his strong neck. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. If I had just…” his voice cut off now unable to say anything more beyond potential crying and Clara could see tears welling up in his eyes. “I-If I can’t have my family, you should at least appreciate how amazing yours is.”

“Shhh,” she said, rocking him in a tone she used whenever he became upset. Being a member of the frog choir and an excellent singer, it helped calm her boyfriend. And now was the perfect time.

Silent night, holy night

All is calm, all is bright

The muggle tune was one she knew growing up and read from one of her mother’s books at university. Given that it was Christmas time, the moment felt quite appropriate. Slowly, she grabbed his left hand and led him around the courtyard as if they were dancing, feet crunching in the snow in a soft ballad until they stopped below a string of mistletoe that hung in one of the archways.

Sleep in heavenly peace

Upon the ending of the song, she wiped the stream of tears from his cheeks.

“You always have a family in me,” Clara said, adjusting his scruffy, brown hair underneath his hat. “And you’re the greatest gift a girl could ask for.”

Slowly and with such tenderness that the loving couple melted into each other like a marshmallow into a cup of hot chocolate, they kissed.

“Merry Christmas, Barnaby Lee.”

The Slytherin grinned back, picking her up by her waist and swinging around and dipping her forward as if she were a princess. All tears were gone and regret washed away by the spirit of the season.

“Merry Christmas, Clara Lin.”

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kob131 · 3 years

Text

True Name: Uther Pendragon Class: Saber Gender: Male Alignment: Lawful Good (believes he is Lawful Neutral) Parameter: Strength: B Endurance: A Agility: C Mana: E Luck: C NP: B+

History: Uther was born as the youngest of three brothers, himself, the Black Dragon Vortigern and the Paranoid Prince Ambrousis. After their father Constantine was died, the eldest son Ambrousis took the throne at the young age of 14. Due to an innate paranoia, the treachery of royal politics and persistent rumors of his father having been poisoned, Ambrousis sought to weed out all potential traitors and dangers to himself In his madness, he killed civilians for speaking unfavorably and nobles for dealing with other nations.

Unable to tolerate his eldest brother’s actions, Uther, alongside the middle child Vortigern, staged a rebellion against Ambrousis, uniting several lords and knights across Britan to wage war against his enthroned and madden kin. Through numerous bloody battles, he forced Ambrousis to met his demise by his own hand, with no small amount of grief and sadness. Soon after, the lords of the land agreed to name him King, something that would come to frustrate his last living brother.

Throughout his reign, he came into conflict with his neighbors/arch enemies the Saxxons. The two kingdoms went to war with each other many, many times, almost always with Uther just barely managing to edge a victory. During these many wars, he was always noted to be seen wandering near lakeside, gazing wistfully out upon the water. One night, on the last of his many walks to the lakes of the land, returned with two twin newborns in hand, girls who he would name Morgan and Morgause and claim as his children. No one is quite certain who the mother of these two was...

Later in life, as the strain of his life came to haunt him, he began to seek an heir to which take his throne upon his increasingly likely death. However, due to lacking a wife and having only daughters who could not be accepted by his kingdom, he looked to his old and trusted friend Merlin. Together, they hatched a plan for Uther to impregnate the lovely Lady Igraine with the king impersonating her lover through Merlin’s magic. Alas, though the child was blessed with the blood of a dragon, it was also yet another daughter, named Arturia. Distraught and despondent, Uther gave up his quest for a successor and left the child in Merlin’s care.

This turn of events alongside the death of his legitimate child Morgause left Uther in the worst of health. His body deteriorated day after day, for years on end until one day, seven years after those events, he died due to a combination of sickness and poison by his lifelong enemies....*

Personality: Quite unlike his successor, Uther is open and friendly man who ruled through trust and familiarity, while not being the best at administration. He warms the hearts of both his retainers and his people with his honesty and openness. Alas, this warmth also lends itself to a certain...fiery temperament in battle.

A man tried to uphold honor and dignity during his life, helping define the code of honor that many among the succeeding generation would uphold as their standard. That said, he could not always uphold it as the conception of his youngest child will tell you.

Below his surface though, he holds a great many regrets. He laments his killing of his brother, his inability to stop the tyranny of his other sibling, his failure to properly raise the children under his care, his shame at the manipulation of Igraine born from a moment’s weakness and lust and his perceived abandonment of his youngest child. Because of this, he feels rather uncomfortable around most British servants, especially those from his era as it reminds him of his failures. Though, he still trusts and respects Merlin (even holding the distinction of being one of the few people able to catch the flower magus off guard).

He also regrets not having tried to defy the laws of inheritness during his time, as he sees this inaction having caused the many conflicts and pain of his successors.

Noble Phantasm:

Flame Sword of the Dragon King: Caliburn Classification: Anti-Personnel Rank: B+

Born from the legends that he himself wielded Caliburn before lodging it in it’s infamous stone as well as the misconception that he himself had dragon blood- Uther wields an altered version of Caliburn of similar quality to it’s true self. In battle, he can ignite the sword with dragonfire and enhance it’s power before releasing it in an inferno the swallows the opponent. The Noble Phantasm itself is not the sword but rather the technique and skill that Uther uses when swinging the ignited sword.

Relationships:

Merlin

Still views him as a trusted advisor and friend. Wishes he would not inform him of his daughters’ sex life. Holds the distinction of being one of the few people to catch Merlin off guard.

“Ah, Merlin. My old friend! You are truly a sight for these sore eyes... Would I like to hear about my child? ... I know you better than to answer yes.”

Arturia Pendragon

A father in name only, he believes. He feels nothing but shame and remorse upon seeing her, believing he does not deserve to be considered among her family. This despite Arturia’s admiration of his own rule.

“... Of course, she is here. The noble King of Knights who did what I could not... No Master, I do not wish to speak with her. I had that chance long ago...”

Arthur Pendragon

Is VERY confused why he has a look alike calling him ‘Father.’ While accepting of the man, Uther can’t help but feel bitter about how things seemed to have worked out for his other self.

“Master? Why is that lad giving me such a strange look? ... Arthur Pendragon? My son from another world? ... *sigh* Of course I find an heir I could truly pass on to NOW of all times...”

Lancelot

Is quite confused (then amused) that his daughter’s greatest knight is a Frenchman. Uther shares a kinship with him as a fellow knight ashamed of his past. Helps that Lancelot is the first Servant he meets upon arriving at Chaldea.

“Ah sir Lancelot! I was wondering if you and I could partake in a friendly spar sometime soon! Yes yes, I shall try to keep from getting too excited like last time.”

The Orkney Siblings (Gawain, Agravain, Gareth, Garehis)

Uther feels deeply conflicted with the siblings, knowing that they are the children of his one surviving child and yet his own failings as father caused them harm indirectly. He is, however, forced to put these feelings aside as the knights all deeply admire and adore him, having been raised on stories of his heroics. Especially the eldest Gawain.

(Gawain) “Oh, you are...yes, Gawain. Morgan’s eldest son. I shall take my leave. ... Wait, You want me to stay? You want to know about my battles? Haha, I-I don’t know what to say.”

(Gareth) “Oh, young Gareth. What a surprise, what brings you to me? ... A jousting battle? Young lady, do I appear to be of the Lancer Class in any manner? ... Now it’s a sparring match?!”

Vortigern

The mere sight of his elder brother deeply enrages Uther. The pain of his brother Ambrousis’ death dredged up at the sight of the sibling he believes he should have slain, there is no chance that Uther will ever cooperate with Vortigern.

“VORTIGERN! Damn you to hell, you inhuman tyrant!”

Morgan Le Fay Pendragon

To say the sight of his eldest daughter brings Uther pain would be nothing if not an understatement. Pressured by the constant wars and responsibilities as king, along with no partner to help him in raising a family, he could never truly invest himself into Morgan’s life as he wished to. Because of this, the death of her sister and even his own, Morgan walked a path of sacrifice and failure, transforming her into the brutal witch she is known as. All because, in Uther’s eyes, he could not comfort her.

“Morgan, oh Morgan. You have suffered so much, despite never wishing for the throne yourself. Seeking it out for Morgause and myself... Forgive your fool of a father, for he could not save you from this.”

Mordred

He did not recognize her as his kin at first but greatly enjoyed her company. Upon learning of her full heritage, Uther resolved himself to make up for his failures with her parents and help guide her to a better life.

“Ah, Mordred. Come, come. We have much to talk about. Yes yes, I know you feel as though my talks are long winded and boring. But I ask of you: will you allow this old man to indulge talking to his grandchild? Ha ha, no need to blush, I should be thanking you after all.”

*Sorry to any Arthurian myth fans but holy fuck, not only is Fate’s iteration of the Round Table Myth really hard to faithfully adapt the original myth- The myth ITSELF gets really patchy when not directly concerning Arthur.

Like, the actual villain of early Uther’s life was VORTIGERN, who was NOT his brother. That doesn’t line up with Fate so I had to make the good guy Ambrousis a bad guy. And THEN it turns out that Uther fucked and married Igraine BEFORE Arthur which again doesn’t match up to Fate. So had to change the mother of Morgan and Morgause to someone else just for this to make sense.

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aros001 · 3 years

Text

Read through light novel vol. 16. Random thoughts.

"Who is this OC looking f**kboy?"

Those were genuinely my first thoughts upon seeing the art of Takt on the throne. And it would seem my immediate dislike was not unfounded.

Seriously though, everything about him is like someone's self-insert original character for their shitty power fantasy Shield Hero fanfic.

"He dresses really cool, like all modern with jeans and pockets, and he can use all the holy weapons and vassal weapons, and his level is above 300, and he has a harem of totally hot powerful women, and he's the king of his own country, and he can counter everything that people use against him, and he can steal powers he doesn't have, and he can beat Naofumi and all the other heroes with, like, no sweat at all!"

I want All For One to come in and kick this little twerp's ass. Show him what a real OP villain who can steal powers is like.

This isn't a critique of the writing by the way. It feels like Takt is supposed to feel like that kind of character who plays to those tropes and is REALLY easy to hate.

I both do and don't like how Naofumi is acting in the prologue. Obviously I don't like specifically what he's doing because it's creepy and uncomfortable, but I really like the reasons for why. The dude is fried from everything that's happened and unlike Itsuki it's not because of a curse. He's grieving from a heavy loss, easily the biggest he's had since coming to this world, and unlike with Ost's death he has no one he can yet focus his anger on, so he's feeling completely lost and mixed up. Another great moment from Sadeena in helping him regain at least some of his sanity. Sex is a common way people try to find comfort after a terrible loss and if that had been the case I think she would have slept with him or even encouraged Raphtalia to be the one for that. But she could see pretty clearly that wasn't the case. Naofumi wasn't looking for comfort. He was practically a zombie, just going through the motions.

“It seems that from among the four holy heroes, the Shield and Bow have been most active over there. Based on their level of activity, there’s also a bias in the legends about the seven star heroes. They mainly talk about the Hammer, Claws, and Whip.” A bias. The Shield and Bow did complement each other well, that was true.

F**k that! Sword and Shield, BroTP!

“Putting that together with what we learned in Kizuna’s world, it sounds like the effects of the fusing of worlds,” I pondered. There was a wave that had combined the Shield world with the Bow world, and then the Shield and Bow world had been fused with the Sword and Spear world to create the current one. It was only natural that a bias in the legends would arise.

"Worlds lived, worlds died. And nothing will ever be the same."

I've talked before that I'm a big fan of the concept of a Multiverse in fiction, especially in superhero comics. Right away I liked that the four Holy Heroes came from different parallel universes and then getting Glass and L'Arc showed that there were also parallel fantasy universes also fighting the waves. And now we get this theory from the characters that Raphtalia's universe is an amalgam, made up of other previous universes that fused through the waves. It's very Crisis on Infinite Earths and JLA/Avengers.

Reading Queen Melromarc describe the king of Faubrey and I'm just remember a scene that I and many Overlord fans love to the depths of our hearts, of Sebas the butler encountering a naked little fat man who got his sexual thrills off beating the women the brothel provided him. Sebas, like any true gentleman, kicked him in the dick so hard he exploded. Is there some to hope that a similar fate befell the king whom apparently married and killed (and probably even worse than that) 9,999 women? Not even Witch deserves that. Nobody deserves that.

Even though it'd probably take him to a dark place he shouldn't go, part of me was hoping for some karma to occur when Witch revealed herself as Takt's ally to Naofumi. He no longer had the shield, meaning he could attack her like he never could before, meaning he could kill her with his bare hands. I'm glad he used the defense rating attack on Takt, because there's been great long-time set-up for that, but yeah, I wanted Naofumi to at least get to break Witch's nose after everything he's been through. And if Witch wasn't irredemable before, she most certainly is now, proving she has no loyalty to anyone other than herself. She used Naofumi and the other heroes from the beginning for her own goals. Her mother had enough control that she couldn't just do whatever she wanted. And Melty was standing in the way of her getting the throne. She's still a terrible person but there were at least reasons for her to be against these people. But Trash? Her father, who has been loyal and on her side since the beginning, who doted and spoiled her from a young age because of how much he loved her? She had no hesitation in ordering him killed along with everyone else. There was no reason behind it. It was just pure cruelly, greed, and self-satisfaction.

And then...there's the Queen. ...F**k. Y'all bastards were really good at keeping that spoiler hidden. I was accidentally spoiled that Alta was going to die but not through this site. I had no idea the Queen was going to die. Of course Naofumi couldn't have the Shield during that part. If he made Mirellia into a shield like he did Ost and Alta he probably would be unstoppable, because she was just that f**king awesome.

We're pouring one out for you, your majesty. May your youngest daughter inherit your great wisdom and unbelievably hilarious slapping ability.

I'm really glad with Trash's development in this book. Like I've said in past posts, I can feel basic empathy for him given his backstory, but feeling sorry for him was not enough to actually put me on his side, because he was not putting in any work to actually be better or redeem himself. He was just acting angry and crazy and then just sad and withered. Here? While he had to be shaken and roused into it (can't blame him for that as he just lost the love of his life), he puts in the effort to make use of himself and holds himself accountable for his past actions. I really like that he wants to continue being called Trash. That is his penance. Not more feeling sorry for himself or blaming the rest of the world. It's time for him to be the man he knows he's supposed to be.

With all that though, Melty was definitely the person I felt the worst for after the death. Of all the younger characters, despite being royalty and mature for her age, she is the person who feels the most like a real kid, and her crying her eyes out while clinging to Naofumi hurt just like it should, because this little girl just lost her mom. No idea what the expectation is in Melromarc for when Melty should take the throne but for her it's always going to feel too soon, because how could it not?

“Daddy . . . thank you for approving my marriage. You’ve finally agreed to let me marry Ollie,” she said dreamily.

“I’ll make you forget this ‘Ollie’ soon enough, although his keeping you a virgin for so long is something to be thankful for!” Takt cackled. It was clear that he was using some kind of illusion to make her think he was her beloved. “Those who don’t give proper thought to their daughters’ happiness have no right to live!”

Oh good! He's a rapist too!

So Naofumi was the Shield's first choice and the other three were the Bow, Sword, and Spear's third choices. I like the credit that's given that the first choice is not guaranteed to be the best, as they can become just as corrupt or egotistical, or the third choices are not guaranteed to be the worst, as they can grow into real heroes. I'm just wondering how the selection process worked and why they all couldn't get their first choices. The Holy Weapons apparently have some sway over the universes they pulled them from, given the promise of granting wishes if they want to return to them. My immediate theory is that the weapons all set up paths that'd lead their choices to being summoned but just through sheer coincidence and randomness all the first choices, save for Naofumi, kept missing the path. Going down the list, the weapons become more desperate and thus are more willing to use more extremes to get their choices, thus why Ren, Motoyasu, and Itsuki had to be killed in order to be summoned. They missed their window with their first and second choices so now they absolutely have to guarantee they get their third, even if the methods are less than ethical.

With the big final boss, the World Eater as Naofumi called it, I'm theorizing that he/she/it is using the waves to fuse multiple universes into one so that he/she/it can eat it all in one go.

I only have two issues with this volume and they're both kind of nitpicks. The first is with Trash's plan, specifically with the Glawick ore. I don't remember it ever being established before in the series. I really liked the Rucolu fruit being used in the Cal Mira wave battle because it was set up way beforehand, so it feels like a lot less of a Deus ex Machina. Same with Naofumi using defense rating attacks after his battle with Glass. That's good set-up. The ore doesn't break the story, it just feels very convenient that such a thing happened to exist. If I'm mistaken and it was set-up before and I just forgot, please let me know.

The second is Naofumi and Raphtalia being separated again after a trip into another universe. The story next volume seems like it'll be very different from last time but that part does feel like a repeat of what we've already seen. Plus, with the new status quo of Naofumi knowing how she feels about him, I want to see their interactions now that he's recovered a bit from the loss of Alta. Again, it's a nitpick, since I'm certain they'll find each other again, but I don't like feeling like I'm being deliberately kept away from what I want to see.

“The source of your power, the one true hero, now orders you. Reconsider the state of all things once more and bring down a storm of flame upon my target! Drifa Firestorm!” Takt completed the spell.

...

“The source of your power, just a hero, now orders you. Reconsider the state of all things once more and scatter the storm that would burn its target! Anti Drifa Firestorm!” I read the magic Takt had incanted and activated magic to nullify it. With that, the fire tornado scattered into nothing, as though it had never existed.

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch!

“I’m here to destroy everything you possess,” I menaced quietly. “Your pride, your dignity, everything you treasure. I’ve already half-destroyed your composure and your arrogance. Now it’s time for the other half. False hero, possessing six of the seven star weapons and the shield from the four holy weapons! Now face the reality of being defeated by a regular guy who holds none of the legendary weapons!”

No wonder Raphtalia couldn't be in this part. After hearing that line I don't think she'd be able to hold herself back and would have tackled him like a wild Albedo in heat right then and there.

I am so looking forward to when this volume's final battle is animated, especially the part where Naofumi gets his shield back. That is going to feel like such an epic, heroic moment.

So Rishia unlocked Pay-to-Win. ...I don't really know what to say to that. What do ancient magical relics care about money? ("What does God need with a starship?")

So the person Malty had Ren give a sword lesson to back in vol. 11, was that Takt, King Faubrey, or someone we don't know yet, like the mastermind behind everything?

Is Kizuna marked for death now? From how Fitora made it sound to Naofumi, when a Holy Hero dies a new one can't be summoned if the others are still around. If Kizuna's world works similarly, she might have to die or there'll be no Holy Heroes other than her.

Naofumi really likes his Dragon Ball Z, doesn't he? Which is appropriate given I just realized that the Energy Blast from the Spirit Tortoise Shield is almost literally the Kamehameha. Seriously, Kamehameha translates to "Turtle Destruction Wave".

So...what the heck do I do now? I've spent about a month reading through 16 volumes of Naofumi's rise and I know there are at least 6 other volumes that haven't been translated to english yet. I'll probably go find another LN series to read until vol. 17 comes out in July. Though I am curious if RoTSH has a fan translation site like Overlord and Konosuba do.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/shieldbro/comments/fot3tj/read_through_light_novel_vol_16_random_thoughts/

#rising of the shield hero #random thoughts #reddit repost

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jettingtothemoon · 4 years

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Rescue You; chapter 1

➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader ➳ genre: fantasy, angst ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3. ➳ word count: 2505 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ a/n: this is just a little alternate sequence of events i decided to concoct based around Hector because his sweet little heart went through so much in season 3 ➳ summary: In which y/n, a witch from Dracula's court, tries to save the forgemaster from his fate.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

The Witch

Three. There were three humans in Dracula's court. The forgemasters, Hector and Isaac, and the magician, y/n. Well, most just called you a witch but you preferred magician, it made you sound less evil.

You were not evil, far from it, but you knew better than to stand in the way of an angry vampire. Dracula was mourning, he was angry at the human race because they had killed his wife. You thought, you hoped, that he would kill a few and stop. You never thought it would have gotten so out of hand. The worst part about it was the way Hector believed everything he was told. He actually believed the humans wouldn't suffer.

Hector had no compassion for the human race. In fact, he hated them. But still, he didn't want them to suffer, he just wanted them to end. He believed Dracula when he said he was going to thin the population and keep whoever was left alive and well. He believed that the survivors would live in peace and be used as cattle by the vampires. He believed that they would not suffer, that they would allow the vampires to feed on them as payment for a peaceful life. He was so easily deceived, so easily manipulated.

Despite everything, Hector was a gentle soul. He loved his animals and he cared for you and Isaac to some extent. He even cared for Dracula. That was why it surprised you that he was the one to betray him. Now it was all over. Dracula was dead by the hand of his own son and what was left of his council had scattered.

You and Hector were friends, nothing more. That was how it was supposed to be but there was always something about him that had you wishing for more. He could never feel the same about you though, you knew that.

What surprised you the most was that he had joined forces with Carmilla, the one bitch that you couldn't stand. You knew Dracula needed to be stopped but you were too afraid to do anything back then. Carmilla tried to overthrow him but in the end, even she was left fleeing with what was left of her army all thanks to a speaker magician who had moved Dracula's castle and ruined her plan.

It had been months and the last you knew, Hector was still with her. Though you soon came to hear that he wasn't with her voluntarily.

You were in a tavern when you heard the news; that a vampire army had been marching their way across Wallachia. Carmilla's Army. Now, you were not surprised that she had fled home with her men. No, not at all. What did surprise you was that you had heard they had a forgemaster in tow. A forgemaster with long silver hair. Hector. He wasn't with them willingly though. No, he was in chains. His body said to be broken, bloody and bruised as they dragged him along behind.

He was not in league with Carmilla, that was certain, but if he was still alive then she was not finished. She had need for a forgemaster which only meant one thing, she wanted an undead army of her own.

It was in the tavern, when you retired to your room, that you thought of seeing where Hector was. It was an old spell but all you needed was a mirror. You sat in front of it and took in a deep breath as you prepared yourself for what you were going to see.

The image that appeared in the mirror was worse than you had been expecting but there he was. Hector. His naked form lying in the corner of a cell, his body only moving to shiver amongst the cold. His hair was a mess, dirt tangled between the silver waves. He was covered head to toe in small cuts and bruises, his purpling eye standing out against his sunken face. He was much thinner than he was before and his blue eyes were more of a void than anything else.

You gasped, a hand covering your mouth as your eyes welled up. Seeing him in such a state, seeing him so broken, it made you sad at first. A cold tear ran down your cheek before your fists began to clenched as the anger came, blowing past like a hurricane.

Hector was a child in a man's body; you were not the first to describe him in this way. He was sweet and caring but naive and easy to manipulate. He was compassionate about those he cared about, though they were few. He didn't deserve it, any of it. Just seeing him that way made you want to wrap your arms around him, to cradle him and run your fingers through his hair. You wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay, that you were going to save him.

You looked to your side, down at the dog you had grabbed as you fled Dracula's castle. Cezar tilted his head to the side and whined as he looked into the mirror. His one blue eye looked upon his master and he whined some more.

There was one thing Hector loved in this world and it was his animals, his night creatures. In particular, Cezar. The little, undead pug nudged his nose against you, licking your hand in comfort when you reached out to him.

You picked him up, glancing back into the mirror one last time before turning your attention back to the dog and scratching his head.

"I know, I know. We'll rescue him, you and me. He... he'll be okay." You tried to hide the way your voice broke as you put the mirror away and turned your attention to the sad, little dog in your arms.

You smiled slightly, though it was a sad smile. Hector was alive and, for now, that would have to be enough. He just has to hold out until you get there.

Every day that passed you were travelling. Fighting any night creatures you came across on the road. You camped in the woods with little Cezar, hugging him to your chest as you tried to get some rest. On rare occasions, you had managed to spend the night in a proper bed but you couldn't enjoy it, not while you knew he was still there lying in that dark, damp cell.

It had been weeks since the day you looked into the mirror. Weeks since you set off on your rescue mission and you were finally almost there. Styria. You had only visited once before. Not much had changed, Carmilla still ruled over the land with the rest of the council of sisters by her side.

You could see the castle in the distance, Carmilla's castle. You knew it was suicide to go up against the council of sisters alone, even with your magic. That was why you had thought of a plan. A plan that you were not particularly fond of but if it would help you save Hector then so be it.

You sat in your camp, the last stop before arriving at your destination, and sighed. Were you really ready for this? To face them? To see him? You were not sure. What you were sure of, was that you had left Hector waiting for far too long.

He was your friend, more than that, and he needed you now. He never knew about your feelings for him. He was always oblivious to such things. You were his friend and only you wished to be more. Isaac knew. He knew how you felt about Hector; he'd asked you about it once. Isaac cared for Hector too once, before he betrayed Dracula. Now, if Isaac was even searching for him you knew it would only be to kill him.

The three of you were friends once, just about. You respected each other, cared for one another to some extent but now... Now, you were not so sure. Isaac would kill Hector for his betrayal and probably you too as you were trying to rescue him. Maybe he still had some of that respect for him but maybe he despised him too much to care. Whatever it was, Isaac was long gone. Sent into the desert by Dracula, the vampire who saved his one friend before his inevitable demise. He was a madman but he was a madman who, in his last moments, saved the one person he still considered his friend. You supposed that counted for something.

By the time morning came, you were already at the foot of the castle. Cezar was by your side and you prepared yourself for what was to come.

"You. Stop!" One of Carmilla's soldiers stopped you, readying his weapon as you approached.

You sighed and held your arms up to show you meant no harm.

"You know who I am, yes?", slowly the soldier nodded his head, "Good, I'm here to see Carmilla."

When the soldier showed no signs of moving, you rolled up your sleeves. "Come on now, I don't want to make a mess. Just go inform her that I'm here. I'll wait out here."

Sensing your seriousness, the soldier nodded and turned around. He clearly had no desire to become a scorch on the ground and ran off to do what you had asked.

You turned your back to the castle, sitting on the ground beside Cezar as you waited to be collected. The council of sisters did not scare you but you knew that you would need to resort to more complicated measures if you wanted to even have a chance at freeing Hector.

A few moments passed until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"y/n. How lovely to have you here, I see you brought Cezar with you." Carmilla's voice was as monotonous as usual and showed how she was really feeling about your presence at her castle.

You climbed to your feet, smiling at the woman whom you detested as you greeted her, "Long time no see. I wasn't sure what happened to you and Hector after Braila but when I heard about your army marching back home I set out right away."

Her icy blue eyes showed you that she had little trust in your motives for being here. You knew that Carmilla saw all humans as beneath her, yourself included, but you also knew that she would value someone with your capabilities.

Not long after that, you found yourself being brought into the castle and before long you were standing before the entire council of sisters.

"What is it you want, witch?" Carmilla sighed, crossing her arms as she waited for you to explain to her and her sisters.

You had been carrying Cezar this entire time and scratched behind his ear as you set your plan in motion. "Dracula is dead, abandoned night creatures roam the wilderness and ordinary humans continue to slaughter my kind in the name of God. I wish to help you conquer them in place of Dracula."

At your words, Carmilla raised an eyebrow.

"You want to aid us?" Your head snapped in another direction as one of the other sisters spoke up. She was smaller than the rest with bright ginger hair and accompanying red eyes.

"I do." You nodded, ignoring the anger building up inside you.

You had to make them believe you. You had to trick them into trusting you if you were ever to free Hector.

The vampires exchanged glances before turning back to you. Carmilla had come to a decision. "Very well but if you so much as step an inch out of line it will be your head, witch."

You nodded, hoping to at least seem sincere. The red-haired vampire stood from her chair and approached you. "Come with me, I'll see you to a room."

She placed a hand on your back and guided you out of the room. As soon as you were outside, she began to speak again, "I'm Lenore by the way."

He voice was soft, unlike what you had heard from most vampires. She seemed somewhat gentle but you knew she could kill you in the blink of an eye had she wanted to.

After a couple of moments of silence, you spoke up again, "Lenore," she hummed and turned her head to you, "Where is Hector? He was with Carmilla, was he not?"

You knew it was probably not the best of times to start asking about him but the thought of him still rotting in that cell made you sick.

At the mention of his name, the aura around Lenore seemed to shift slightly. "Hector? He's probably working at his forge."

Hector? Willingly making night creatures for the people who treated him like a slave? I don't think so. You thought, remembering the state he was in when you last looked into that mirror.

"Would it be possible to see him? I have something of his," you asked, gesturing to the little dog in your arms.

She hummed through pursed lips in thought for a moment before speaking, "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm."

Something about Lenore gave you a feeling that maybe she wasn't a bad person, that maybe she wasn't like Carmilla at all. Something else, however, had you shuddering every time she spoke but you couldn't put your finger on the reason why.

A few more halls and you were standing in front of a closed door. Lenore stepped in front of you, reaching out to the handle and you felt your heart tensing in your chest. He was in there, right through those doors. The broken man you had come to rescue, the broken man whom you couldn't bear see any more harm come to. That or she had figured you out and was just bringing you here to kill you.

When the door opened and you stepped inside, Cezar was jumping out of your arms and running across the room.

"Cezar?"

There he was, Hector. His voice almost sounded as it did the last time you heard it but there was something different about it, like an empty pit residing in the depths of his soul. He picked the dog up with a faint smile, allowing Cezar to lick at his face for a moment before lifting his gaze to the door.

His cold blue eyes landed on you first and they widened in shock. "y/n?"

Then, he glanced over to Lenore and it seemed as though every inch of his body tensed. You could feel the energy between the two of them. Lenore was hard to read but Hector, he hated her though he seemed somewhat conflicted.

Something happened between the two of them, something that had you clenching your fists. She hurt him, that was evident, but you were unsure of how. What you were sure of, was that Hector didn't seem overly pleased to see you.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10

#netflix castlevania #castlevania #hector #hector x reader

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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“I know you -- I walked with you once upon a dream... I know you: That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam...”

~“Once Upon a Dream (cover),” by Lana Del Rey

When he was growing up, Atticus Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier was something of a teacher’s pet. Thanks to the influence of his father who put such stock in the Grimsley family’s reputation and legacy, Atticus grew up with a hyper-focus on his studies and so ended up having a rather solitary and lonely time at Hogwarts. Therefore when he met Bartholomew “Bat” Varney as an adult, Atticus wasn’t incredibly well-practiced in the art of making or maintaining friendships. Fortunately, despite his and Bat’s obvious differences in attitude and life experience, the two men ended up slowly building a bridge of understanding and camaraderie between them. The big turning point was Atticus agreeing to help Bat track down and capture a vampire who had stolen Bat’s identity and used it to target and murder a wizard just outside Hogsmeade, even if it put Atticus at considerable risk not just with that vampire, but with the Ministry, since Bat was still considered a suspect at the time. After this, Bat finally accepted Atticus into his heart enough to start calling him by the nickname “Grim,” rather than the more detached and nondescript “Professor” -- in essence, seeing Atticus as an individual and allowing himself to “get attached,” even if Bat would no doubt out-live Atticus and mourn him when he died. Bat opened up, showing a genuine warmth and a love of life’s trappings that encouraged a youthful sense of fun out of Atticus he’d never really experienced before.

As the two friends got to know each other better, Atticus -- like Adelia Selwyn @that-ravenpuff-witch before him -- started to notice certain inconsistencies and interesting word choices in his conversations with Bat. Bat was very evasive about how he became a vampire, but he’d also make weird off-the-cuff comments about his condition, like that "his body didn’t truly belong to him.” He could give a full history lecture about the War for American Independence and describe multiple battles in great detail, and yet would immediately go quiet and disinterested as soon as any mention of the Battle of Yorktown propped up. He’d sometimes even compare Atticus to his best friend at school, telling full, exciting stories about their exploits and laughing at the memories, but seemed oddly tight-lipped when Atticus asked him his friend’s name. After a while, the man the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would go to whenever they had a case they had trouble solving found himself way too curious about all this to let it lie, and so set about tackling the mystery of Bat Varney’s past on his own.

Through his investigation, Atticus found out more and more things that just didn’t add up. Bat always seemed pleased whenever Ravenclaw was in the running for the Quidditch Cup, but an enchanted portrait of Bartholomew Varney in his Hogwarts robes that was commissioned by his family featured him wearing a red and gold Gryffindor tie. Bat was well-versed in Muggle society and culture, and yet the Varneys had been a prominent wizarding family who had shares in a large assortment of businesses in Diagon Alley back in the day. Then there was the story Atticus had collected from the merpeople about the three students who had helped save their queen a hundred years ago -- Robert Harker, Cecelia Crouch, and Bartholomew Varney. “Robert” had to be the mysterious best friend that Bat had mentioned, Atticus thought -- after all, he and Bartholomew had gone to war together as if they were Muggles despite both being wizards, so they were clearly incredibly close. But why had Bat never mentioned his other best friend, Cecelia Crouch? Particularly since, according to letters, she and he grew up together, and according to Ministry records, she’d eventually become his wife.

At long, long last, Atticus conjured up a terrible theory -- that Bat, in fact, was not the real Bartholomew Varney. His suspicions were confirmed when he tracked down a shady contact in Knockturn Alley who explained the unforgivable Dark process of creating a vampire, which requires not just a person feeding their subject a potion containing both their own and the caster’s blood, but also the caster cursing the soul of the person upon death to be forcibly chained to a body against their will. Atticus realized that his friend -- the vampire called Bat Varney -- was in truth the soul of Bartholomew Varney’s best friend Robert Harker, chained to the first’s reanimated corpse by Bartholomew’s wife and Robert’s once-friend, Cecelia.

The knowledge shocked Atticus -- he hadn’t known such a thing was even possible, and if it were true, it’d be a horrific thing for anyone to go through. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor took some time to himself to get a handle on what he’d discovered, only to be surprised one evening by the sight of a familiar Irish Wolfhound sitting in his office chair. Bat had noticed Atticus wasn’t in Hogsmeade at all for more than a week after having come to visit nearly every evening prior, so he thought he’d pop up to the castle to see what was going on. So Atticus took the opportunity to tell Bat everything he’d found out.

Whatever reaction Atticus had been expecting, it was not Bat looking hurt.

“Robert?”

“Don’t -- ”

The word came out in an oddly sharp, barking voice. Bat gave a very painful-looking swallow to try to restrain himself, even as his red eyes pulsed with pain.

“ -- don’t call me that.”

Atticus was confused. “What? But...it’s your name, isn’t it? Your real -- ”

“Shut up,” Bat said very harshly.

He turned his back on the professor, his fist absently clenching at his side.

Atticus’s skin prickled with an emotion he couldn’t yet place. It made him suddenly feel like the ground he was on was very unstable.

“Bat, what’s wr -- ?”

“I don’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to talk about this. And yet now you’ve forced my hand and are now trying to make me talk about this. Well, I don’t want to talk about this with you! I know time is different for you than it is for me, but do you truly have no patience at all? Do you truly have so little respect for me, that I wasn’t allowed a choice in whether or not you knew? I...”

The vampire’s eyes were going redder, as was often the case when his heart was beating painfully fast or his lungs were breathing heavily. Although Bat’s voice never got incredibly loud, there was a very low, growl-like aspect -- something oddly raw.

Atticus knew what the emotion he was feeling now was -- it was guilt. Remorse.

“Bat -- ”

“I have to go,” Bat cut him off lowly without skipping a beat or turning around.

And in a blur of motion, he’d become a dog again and darted out the open door.

Bat didn’t reappear in Hogsmeade. Nights went by, and no one Atticus spoke to had seen him. The Honeydukes family even said he hadn’t returned to roost in their attic in the daytime like he always did. And Atticus knew why -- he knew that Bat’s sudden disappearance was all his fault.

In the nights following the argument, insomniac Atticus had even more trouble sleeping than usual. Once he ended up fitfully nodding off in the armchair of his bedchambers around 3 AM -- and there in his dreams, he was confronted by a vision of Robert Harker, looking just as dark-haired and handsome as he did in the enchanted portrait Atticus had found of him and Bartholomew in their army uniforms, signed with Cecelia Crouch-Varney’s name. Robert was smiling just as he did in the picture, and his brown eyes shone with the same sharp, bright gleam Atticus knew so well from Bat’s eyes. He even spoke in Bat’s voice.

Robert Harker bent down over Atticus sitting in the armchair, his handsome face mere inches from his. The proximity immediately startled Atticus, not just because he wasn’t used to people being in his personal bubble, but because Bat in particular so carefully avoided getting too close to him due to his blood lust. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor shakily brought up a hand against the taller man’s chest as if to try to push him back, but his limbs lacked strength.

“W-wha -- what are you -- ?”

“Now, now, Grim...you were looking for me, weren’t you? It feels good to have solved the mystery, doesn’t it -- to know all those terrible things your mysterious associate was keeping under wraps?”

“Th-that...”

“Well, really, how else were you going to find out? I certainly wasn’t going to tell you. Why would I want to revisit the time when one of my dearest friends stabbed me in the back and turned me into a bloodthirsty animal? Made it so I could never be a professor like you, the way you know I wish I could?”

“You’re not an animal, you’re my -- ”

“Your what? Your friend? Oh, now, that is a cute sentiment.”

“What...?”

“You don’t have any friends, Grim, old boy. You never have. What I was, who knows...a pet, perhaps -- someone to talk to, to pass the time -- but a friend? I don’t believe friends go behind each other’s backs and betray their trust. Oh...but I suppose mine already did. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, that you’re just the same...”

“Robert -- Bat, I’m...I didn’t mean to -- ”

“At least now, things can go back to the way they were before. You’re all on your own again. All alone with your books, just like before. Just like you’ve always been...”

The nightmare was really rather short, but it was still enough to make Atticus wake up in a icy cold sweat.

Two weeks later, Atticus caught wind from his students that Bat had returned to Hogsmeade. Despite the anxiety and shame he felt, Atticus dropped everything that night to go find him, catching up with the vampire just outside the Three Broomsticks, not far from where they’d first met. Atticus immediately launched into an extensive apology, as Bat listened with a rather blank, placid expression on his face. It was only when Atticus started getting really emotional that Bat actually reached out and took hold of the man’s shoulder. The vampire immediately had to use his free hand to take out his flask and take a long drink of blood, and then he had to bury his face in his winter scarf and turn his focus onto the closest chimney to try to ignore Atticus’s scent and blood pulsing through his skin and clothes -- but he held Atticus’s shoulder anyway, his voice very low and soft in his throat when he spoke.

“I’ve...already forgiven you, Grim.”

Atticus’s guilt lingered somewhat even after that, but the whole affair ended up strengthening the two men’s relationship even more than before. Since this point, Atticus has become the only person who knows Bat’s real name and will, on occasion, use it in private conversation.

#atticus grimsley #bartholomew varney #cecelia crouch varney #my art #my writing #hphl #hogwarts legacy #guuuuh I love these two and their relationship so much I can't even #also yes robert harker was gorgeous okay #his face claim is josh groban so of course he was LOL #I loved drawing his uniform X3

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alolowrites · 4 years

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Masterlist

© All rights reserved—please do not repost, redistribute, or use any of my stories in any other format or medium (i.e. ASMR) or other platforms (youtube, tiktok, etc). Most importantly, please do NOT plagiarize any of my stories.

I will only post my stories here on Tumblr and AO3. If you see my stories anywhere else, please let me know! Thank you!

-alolowrites.

AO3 Account

Kofi (Tips welcome, but not necessary!)

Updated: 7.22.2021

Recent Stories: Thinking of You (AOT); Gymtleman (BNHA);

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Small Donation: The holiday season is a time for giving, especially for those most in need. All month long, Shouto watches you collect donations for a local children’s hospital. One day, he finally musters up the courage to do the same and surprises you with his own small donation.

Tamaki Amajiki

Snow Globe Wonderland: On his way home from work, Tamaki stumbles upon a two things—a mysterious snow globe and you, a dancer who shows him a magical time.

Stolen Glances: Tamaki constantly steals glances at you, his crush, since he is too shy to speak with you. However, this changes one night at a bonfire party.

Heroes

Enji Todoroki/Endeavor

Vete: After feeling miserable in your relationship with Enji, you decide to kick him out of your life.

Keigo Takami/Hawks

Free Sample: You take great pride in handing out some free samples of tempura chicken. They’re a great way to meet new people—including a certain wing hero who happens to enjoy your free sample.

Late Night Visitor: A mysterious stranger visits your balcony and accidentally leaves behind a priceless jewelry that they stole from a museum. [Crime AU]

Drabbles

Crowded Bird Cage: Hawks enjoys having you around. Your pet bird, Sora, is still a work in progress.

Rumi Usagiyama/Miruko

Drabbles

Flying Snowball: One crispy afternoon, you’re minding your own business when a jerk hits you with a snowball. Stupidly, you throw one back only to accidentally hit the fierce pro hero Miruko (also your number one crush).

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pocky: You offer a pocky stick to your husband, Shouta Aizawa.

Three in the Morning: Shouta returns home to find you wide awake at three in the morning.

Drabbles

A Cry for Help: A hero finds a little girl crying and helps find her parents.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum

Cuddling Through the Seasons: Fatgum’s cuddles never go out of season.

Drabbles

A Cry for Help: A hero finds a little girl crying and helps find her parents.

Toshinori Yagi/All Might

After All These Years: After being apart for six years, you wonder if you are ready to see Toshinori again. [Sequel to The Point of No Return]

Need A Hand?: Toshinori thought visiting the park would bring him some peace of mind. Instead, he ends up chasing after your dog who stole his bony hand.

Sneezing Through Time: When you’re sick, you end up sneezing to random points in time.

The Point of No Return: Your relationship with Toshinori is put to the test after he refuses to back down from his responsibility for being the Symbol of Peace. [Warning: Heavy Angst]

Drabbles

A Cry for Help: A hero finds a little girl crying and helps find her parents.

Villains

Dabi

Outlaws and Freaks: Dabi breaks you out of jail on Halloween night.

Regret: You thought sleeping with a stranger would help you cope with your heartbreak. You come to regret this decision months later.

Sweet Delivery: Dabi decides to surprise you with a sweet gift on Halloween night.

Kurogiri

Creeps, Freaks, and Milkshakes: Google Maps is usually pretty good with their directions. One night, you stumble upon a place where monsters exist beyond the imaginary folktale pages and movie screens. You’re a little scared, but at least the handsome bartender makes some delicious milkshakes.

Tomura Shigaraki

Drabbles

Losing You: Shigaraki laments on his lost love.

Others

Natsuo Todoroki

Drabbles

2:05 Gingerbread Man Cookies: Finals week is in fully swing and you are stuck writing a paper at the library. At least it’s not so bad when Natsuo shares his gingerbread man cookies with you.

Rei Todoroki

Ring Off: Rei finds her happiness again during an afternoon walk.

Yo Shindou

Get Out of the Water: It’s late and you come across a stranger swimming in the water. [Mermaid AU]

Mr. Seat Stealer: There’s an unspoken rule in college about seats—once it’s claimed, no other person can sit in it. Too bad Shindou doesn’t care when it comes to your seat. [College AU]

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

Spooky Season 2020 Masterlist

FicMas Fest 2020 Masterlist

#bnha masterlist #bnha fandom #bnha fanfiction #mha masterlist #mha fandom #mha fanfiction #bnha #mha

173 notes · View notes

a-forgotten-spirit · 4 years

Text

Love Isn’t An Illusion (5)

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou, VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Studying, exams and lead up to the practical exam

Words: +-6600

Warnings: Anxiety, stress, overthinking, feelings of pressure, over working, unhealthy habits, over studying, not eating, not sleeping, getting thinner, (aggressive) caring Bakugou, Monoma, angy boom boom boy, fear of failure, swearing

Tagged: @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma @aurorahoneybuns @imjusttireddudes @misconceptualised @ochabby @katsukisuwus @gayverlinq @star-witchs-blog @fallbb123

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader. Please comment, makes me happy. Ask if you wish to be tagged. I’m thinking of making a patreon for exclusive fanfics and commissions, comment/ask/message your thoughts.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

_______________________________________________________________

Chapter 5 Y/N P.O.V

Once Aizawa left the room Kaminari and Mina were yelling within seconds “It’s true we haven’t had much free time” Tokoyami but in. I’ve had heaps of free time, you just cut out sleep and boom like 9 hours of studying ready for you. I had come first in the midterms so I couldn’t fall behind now.

“As someone who ranked in the top ten I'm not that concerned” Mineta smiled spinning in his chair. It was quite often my brain ignored that he was athletic and semi-decently smart. Though his personality ranked quite low in the class so overall he wasn’t doing exceptionally well.

“What you’re tenth in the midterms” both Kaminari and Mina yelled out in unison. They were the bottom two, I couldn’t imagine the stress of that. I can’t deal with being first not to mention being last. I think I was going to faint, just thinking about it sent shivers down my spine.

“Ashido, Kaminari. We still have time to study and we’ll all get to go to the training camp together” he had ranked fifth I had completely forgotten about the camp far too focused on not failing I must have excused that from my memory. I was glad Midoriya brought it up, now I was forced to converse with my parents at a later date. “Right” he questioned with a smile, hands clenched and happy.

“Yes, as class rep, I have hopes we will make UA proud” Iida was in third place in the class. How was he holding it together, I wanted to ask him for his secrets. To give me guidance. I needed the help, I needed to train. I had so little time.

“It’s pretty hard to fail if you just pay attention in class, isn’t it” Todoroki’s voice was so bland and he spoke, his words were true. Like there was no way I could fail, right, right? I could feel my heart beating so quickly. Todoroki had ranked sixth in the class, how was he being so calm. I was stressing beyond belief.

“Why you gotta cut me down like that” Kaminari was holding his chest, kneeling on the floor. I nodded, I felt the same. Everyone in the top ten seemed to calm and here I was in first place having a small crisis. I thought I had gotten over my nerves but not at least not for my education.

“Hey don’t worry you two, I can catch you up to speed on certain topics if you want” Yaoyorozu was so nice, maybe I would ask if I too could join. She ranked second, I needed to ask her as well as how she wasn’t stressing. Was it the fact she wasn’t number one? Was it something else? Did she not care? Anyone give me an answer. I had study sessions but they slowly died down with the class. I was collapsing and I needed support. Mina and Kaminari took her up on the offer. “I’m afraid I won’t be any help when it comes to the practical though” she sulked, an aura radiating off her from the corner of the room as she sat down in her chair.

“I’ve been studying but can you help me out too, I’m having some trouble understanding quadratic functions,” Jirou asked holding up her book. I too had struggled with them, a whole night of rewriting them, listening to a youtube video about them and then reading about them had solved that issue. Jirou ranked eighth in the class.

“Tutor me please, classical Japanese is killing me” Sero had his hands above his hand in a ‘praying’ formation, he ranked eighteenth. Classical Japanese was a lot of work but again some videos and all-nighter. I think I had got it to a T, though what if I had missed something… My lord what if I had missed something.

Ojiro walked over his shoulders slouched and hand in the air like he was volunteering “Is their room for one more, I’m falling behind a little” at least he was honest. Ojiro ranked ninth so he was still in the top ten but I could see his stress. I was listening in from my desk as my hands shook.

They all asked in unison for help and Yoayarozu looked stunned for a moment, her hands coming to her lips as her eyes sparkled “This is wonderful” she shouted, her seat moving back as she jumped up, hands in the air happily. How could she be happy at a time like this? “Yes let’s do it, ok we can hold a study session at my residence over the weekend” she smiled hands clasped together.

“Seriously, I can’t wait to see your fancy digs” Mina smiled as she bounced over. Yaoyarozu looked so happy, a blush forming along her cheeks, hands fisted near her face. Her smile was beautiful, she was beautiful. How could she be smart and pretty?

“I must call mother and ask to set up the great hall, it’ll be the perfect spot” Did she just say great hall, she was joking right. She didn’t have that kinda space just laying around. “What kind of tea does everyone like, I'll make sure we are stocked” everyone looked about as shocked as I was, sure I knew she was rich but this was just wow. She continued to go on about what her family drank and that if it wasn’t to your liking she would buy some. Such a good host and we were still at school.

“Sounds like I should be studying with her” Kirishima smiled at the group forming at the back of the room, he was ranked sixteenth. I couldn’t blame him, she seemed so confident and wise. How was she so happy, how was she able to make time for other people when she too had to study. Sure I could do it a few weeks ago but right now? A week before the exam, how was she doing it?

“Think I don’t know enough, maybe I should beat the lessons into your skull” Bakugou growled out, he ranked fourth. He was another I forgot was smart. He was always so loud and angry but he did care dearly for his education and becoming the best so it made sense why he was like that. Bakugou looked so angry teeth grit and eyes wide, was he mad that Kirishima even suggested going with someone else.

“I'm counting on it,” Kirishima smiled and nodded happily to the seething Bakugou. I don’t often see Kirishima without a smile, he was always so happy. Give me tips, please. I was on the verge of passing out, whether it be from stress, sleep deprivation or the four cups of coffee wearing off I wasn’t sure. “God I wish I was Y/N. Not a care in the world” Kirishima sighed and I watched as everyone turned their attention to me shaking at my desk.

“Yeah I know right” Sero agreed his head down, I heard a few more agree. Lord if only they knew how fast my heart was beating at the thought. “I don’t know how you can even get 100%” there was so much pressure, my head was spinning as I felt faint.

My hand rose, shaking as I shook my head “I am very stressed” I stuttered and everyone stopped turning to my shaking figure as I went to stand and my legs wobbled. “I think I’m about to have a heart attack,” I said calmly and sighed out unevenly.

“What, why, you’re so smart. Our study sessions were like you were a teacher. I don’t know how you find the time” Mina jumped to my desk as I stood up straight, my hands coming to rub my cheeks the end of my sleeves dragging along my skin.

“Yeah, you are incredibly smart” Kaminari agreed. “I could never come first” he sighed and everyone slowly walked over. I was rubbing my face still, slowly and shakily. They all thought I was so smart, I had so much pressure. “How do you have time?” he asked.

“I don’t sleep” I looked up, my eyes baggy and black. I might as well have been a walking corpse. “I studied over 300 hours for the last test. I can’t even imagine the time I’ve put into this one” I shivered and saw wide eyes and feared looks. “Am I allowed to the study sessions as well?” I asked slowly.

“I think you need some sleep” Yaoyarozu spoke and came to rub my back calmly. I could fall asleep to this, I could fall asleep standing I was so tired. “But if you want to come you are more than welcome” she smiled nodding. “I’ll make you some nice calming tea”

I grabbed her hands bowing my head “Thank you” I whispered and looked up seeing her happy face smiling, she was pretty “If I could marry you, I would” I whispered and she flushed as I heard some laughter. “I’m not joking, the idea of studying with calming tea is marriage material and no one can tell me otherwise” I bowed again. She blushed more and bowed back.

Then came lunch, we all walked to the lunchroom and sat down. We all sat at one big table and when I sat down I brought out my notes books and pens. This was half an hour I got to study, the lords are truly smiling upon me. As I began to write I could feel eyes on me.

“Are you not eating?” Mina asked slowly pointing down to my book “You can take a half an hour break to eat Y/N” I looked down to my book, I was hungry. When had I eaten last? I wasn’t sure yesterday, maybe. The day before. I was far too stressed and busy to eat.

“Well it’s an extra half an hour” I answered and saw the looks I was getting. “I have to do my best you know” I clicked the lid of my pen to the bottom of it and began to write again.

“When was the last time you ate,” Bakugou asked and I turned, we were sitting next to each other. He had asked me last time as well. He took a lot of care for his body, his athleticism was proof of that. Why was everyone so worried for me?

“Um,” I paused and tried to think about it “I had some rice, Saturday” I questioned and shook my head “I’m fine though, really” I smiled but even that was using energy my body didn’t have.

“Are you kidding?” Kirishima asked and I looked down shaking my head “I could never” he whispered and looked over my body. I too looked down, was I getting smaller? I pulled on my UA jumper and then flattened it to my body. There was a lot of excess fabric but I liked my jumpers bigger.

I saw a bowl placed in front of me as books were moved out of the way “Eat” Bakugou demanded and I looked down to the bowl of rice with soup and noodles, odd but it looked good. I shook my head and smiled about talking when I was handed some chopsticks. “I said to eat” he growled.

My stomach growled loudly, I hadn’t noticed just how hungry I was “Thank you” I whispered and placed my hands together in a thank you for the food. Picking up the bowel I began to eat and saw him eating something else he had brought. A few mouthfuls and I placed it down. “Thank you again” I went to grab my book but my hand was stopped.

“Eat it all” he ordered and moved the bowl back “You look dead” he added and took another bite of his food. I touched my face, did I look that bad. The noodles had a nice spice to it and were about to shake my head once more when I was glared at. Giving up I continued to eat until a loud banging was heard.

“Oh sorry, your head is so big that it’s hard to miss” it was the preppy boy from 1-B, the one who was a real jerk ward. I lowered Bakugous’ bowl and watched how this would play out. He was rude and had a grudge against 1-A. Maybe he hadn’t gotten in or maybe he just didn’t like us.

“You’re the kid from class 1-B. Um. Monomo right?” Midoriya asked rubbing the back of his head with wide eyes. Had he hit him, from the sound I thought it was the table, it was quite loud? Why was he talking to our class again? “That hurt” Midoriya yelled as he continued to rub the tender area at the back of his head.

“You guys stumbled across the Hero Killer” Now I was more interested in the conversation, the whole table was. “Just like in the sports festival, class 1-A isn’t happy unless they are the centre of attention but you know you aren’t in the spotlight because people think you’re good heroes, right?” even his voice was annoying. Did he only come here to make fun of us, was that it? “It’s just that you keep getting into so much trouble. Here’s food for thought someday the rest of us might get caught up in your mess and then we will all become victims as well” his smile was wide and menacing. He did have it out for us. “What kind of horrible villain will you bring down upon us?” he continued.

“Are you done?” I asked my eyes slowly looking over to him, too slowly to not be creepy. He seemed to sense it too. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your insecurities right now” I continued and he looked offended. Wait, did I say that out loud?

“Excuse me” his eyes widened and he huffed turning his eyes towards my own, trying to explode my head, or maybe he was constipated. I rose and eyebrow in confusion as some of my fellow class chuckled. “Say that aga-” he was cut off.

I watched as the redhead walked up, slapping him upside the head within a second he was on the floor holding the spot, now he knows how Midoriya felt. “That’s not funny Monoma, you heard what happened to Iida, chill out”

“Kendo” Iida called out his hand up about to respond again. She seemed to be everywhere the little rascal blonde went. I was about two seconds away from sticking him in an endless cube for twenty minutes.

“I apologise for him. I’m pretty sure there’s a hole where his heart should be'' she began, he should apologise for himself. Though when I looked down I should see him dangling in her grasp, did she knock him out? “So I was listening about what’s going to be on the big final practical. I heard it’s going to be combat against robots like the entrance exam” everyone straightened up now far more intrigued with the new information “One of my friends who is a few grades up filled me in. You know, cheating but oh well” I could beat them, right. I got in on recommendation so I didn’t know but I fought them in the festival and they seemed pretty easy.

Midoriya began to mumble to himself as I picked the food back up and looked down to my notes, the book was closed seconds later. Bakugous’ hand retreating as he pointed to the food in my bowl. I continued to eat, he did care about people in strange ways but still cared nonetheless.

“What kind of idiot are you Kendo” so the preppy boy was awake again. My eyes rolled by themselves this time. “You just gave away our whole strategic advantage” he whispered angrily his head rising, eyes wide as his smile. Was he ok? “This was our chance to finally pull ahead of that class full of idiots” another slap to the back of the head and he was out, being pulled out by Kendo who was calling him an idiot. A true saviour to class 1-A. Before lunch ended I made sure to give Bakugou his bowl and chopsticks back, thanking him again and asking if I could come to his study session. He agreed, a shrug but still agreed.

After lunch, everyone was talking about how the practical would be easy. It was only the exam they were now worried about. I was still stressing about every second but that was my problem. “It shouldn’t matter whether it’s robots or actual people, why are you morons so excited” the question was directed to Kaminari and Mina, they were offended by what he said but their words died down when he began to shout “Shut up” he got angry so quickly, I don’t know how he did it. “You need to learn how to control your quirk, you got it” I had to admit he had a point, they did need better control and out of everyone in the class, I think he was in the top for harnessing his quirk. “Hey Deku” his voice growled, this was the most I had heard him talk in a while. “I wanna know what’s going on with your power. I saw the way you’re using it now and I want you to know it’s seriously pissing me off” his eyes were narrowed and hands in his pockets. The training exercise, just like how he moved, had he been bottling this up for a few weeks? “I won’t have another half-ass fight, like the festival, we will be getting individual scores in the upcoming finals. New rankings” his teeth grit and his hand rose quickly pointing to the scared looking male “So we will all know exactly where we are standing. I’ll show you how much better I am and Todoroki, I’ll kill you too” with that he walked from the room, the door slamming shut.

My hands came to my cheeks once more “Am I not seen as a threat” I whispered and saw a few faces at my stress. “Oh my, does he not see me as a threat” I whispered “I was the one who beat him” I added and sighed “Although not through physical strength” Bakugou didn’t see me as a threat. I fell into my seat, my head on the desk. “Oh no,” I sighed my forehead against the wood.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him that worked up,” Kirishima told the class then walked over and I felt a hand on my back “I’m sure he sees you as a threat, the other two are just” he paused and I rose my head slowly “people he doesn’t like” my head came crashing back to the table.

When the weekend rolled around, a group of us met at Yaoyarozus’ place, it was massive. Sure, I knew my house was big but this was something else entirely. We stood in awe, I had managed to get some sleep the night prior, regretted it in the morning but I had a bit more energy for the day ahead which I didn’t regret.

“I knew her family had cash but I didn’t know she was this rich” Kaminari voiced all our thoughts, we all nodded in unison. It looked like her house went on for acres, and I didn’t doubt it did.

Moving forward to press the bell a voice came through and the gates were open. All six of us walked to her house, large and beautiful. I didn’t understand the need for space but I could appreciate it. We were moved into the ‘great hall’ and we all sat down. Jirou, Kaminari and Sero on one side and Mina, Ojiro and I on the other books ready and awaiting our host.

It was strange seeing the others in normal clothing and I looked down seeing the baggy jumper, black ripped jeans and boots I wore on my days off. Though the boots I had to imagine, taking off our shoes before entering the house. I wouldn’t want dirt in here either.

“I could not feel any more out of place right now” Ojiro voiced and I nodded and Sero agreed verbally. It was a beautiful house and well taken care of. I couldn’t believe this is what Yaoyarozu came home to every day.

She walked in pushing a tray of tea, she was wearing a red shirt and white shorts. Even though they were ‘normal’ clothes she still looked proper in every way. She was so nice to let us over to study, honestly a gift to my week. Hours of studying went by and I got ahold of everything, I needed to do more. I was given calming tea as I shook and stressed.

“Marry me” I turned my eyes wide and hopeful. Yaoyarozu was a goddess in the body of a human. She had laughed and continued with the lesson. Over the weekend I met with that group of a day and Bakugou and Kirishima at night. A little over twelve hours of study with other people a day and then my study at home.

“How are your notes so neat?” Kirishima asked leaning over to look at my notes in the booth, having met in a cafe. I looked down, my notes were mostly colour coded for different things, having many pens and highlighters.

“I have a fear of failure” I stated and he nodded. I helped the two organise by colour coded and it seemed to help Kirishima get the hang of a few things “Look, cover, write, check” I wrote down on a posted note for him, sticking the paper to his book neatly. “The motto I live by, or just keep doing it until it’s engraved in your brain for eternity” I smiled and Bakugou nodded in agreement.

“So manly” he nodded and started my technique, this went on for a few hours until we parted ways and I let him borrow one of the study books I was done with having memorized it. He looked about ready to cry “I owe you my life” he bowed and I laughed.

Going home, eating something and then back up to my room to continue studying. Every day this week I had worked on my quirk. Expanding my area, how long I could do it for, how many things I could create, size, density. Everything had to be perfect. I worked night and day to be the best. I was going to stay in the top spot. I could do this. I hoped, begged.

The weekend went quickly but the night before the exam I slept more hours then I did the whole week, waking up I felt ‘refreshed’ and ready. I practically sprinted to school my head high and my mind ready. I had an illusion of the answers beside me, to make sure I didn’t forget anything. Answers I had studied and worked my ass off. The first exam was long and I powered through the answers, seeming to know every single one. I didn’t stop writing for the entire time, I was proud of myself.

The third day was finally over, I felt my heartbeat again “Alright pencils down, the last person of each row bring the answers to me” My page was collected and I felt a weight off my shoulders. I was breathing again, was oxygen always this good?

Yaoyarozu was then bombarded with Kaminari and Mina thanking her, I said it but I wouldn’t bet she could hear me over them. They had answered every question which was good to hear. They gave it a go. Later that day Kirishima had asked why I thanked Yaoyorozu and then the class was surprised to know I went to both sessions with the groups and then studied more at home.

The practical was still to come, I looked down at my hands. Was I ready? I had trained so hard every day, was I ready for this? I shook my head then nodded, yes, I was. I had gone up against villains, murders, Nomus and won. I can beat a few robots… There were no robots.

We were all in our hero costumes standing in front of the teachers. I was shitting bricks, to say the least. “Now then, let’s begin the last test, remember it’s possible to fail this final. If you want to go camping, don’t make any stupid mistakes” Aizawa warned. I was petrified, were all the teachers going to watch us?

“Why are all the teachers here?” Jirou questioned, good now I didn’t have to talk, a small sigh left my lips in relief. I thought it would only be Aizawa, maybe All Might if we were lucky not all of them.

“I expect many of you have gathered information and believe you have some idea of what you’ll be faced with today” I froze, we weren’t fighting robots were we? Of course, it would change for our year, why wouldn’t it?

“We’ll be fighting those big metal robots” Kaminari shouted leaning back as if to allow as much sound from his body as possible… he most likely did do that. His hands were out and Mina joined in happily smiling.

I watched as Aizawa’s scarf ruffled then Principal Nezu popped out “This year's test has been changed for various reasons” he smiled, I felt my heart sink. I was right, I was too right. Why was I right, why couldn’t we just fight the robots? “The test now has a new focus” he lowered himself with Aizawa's’ scarf and the help of No.13 “It’ll be hero work of course but also teamwork and combat against actual people. So what does that mean for you, your students will be in pairs and your opponents will be one of our esteemed UA teachers. Isn’t that fabulous” I was going to throw up. My hands were shaking as I put my hand over my mouth to try and get myself together.

“Additionally your partners and opponents have already been chosen” I was mad at that. If I lost because of my partner I was not going to be impressed. “They were determined under my discretion based on various factors including fighting style, grades and interpersonal relationships” this wasn’t going to end well. I was so sure, I was going to win but the idea of having to not only watch myself but someone else was a lot of work. “First Yaoyorozu and Todoroki are a team” he smiled pulling his scarf up “Against me. Then we have Midoriya paired with Bakugou” they turned to each other and I could feel the tension circle our group. “And their opponent is”

A loud bang and there was All Might in all his glory suited up and ready to fight “I am here” his fist was out and my heart fluttered in fear. I was so glad I wasn’t them. It was good to know I wasn’t going to be fighting the top hero and a little insulting knowing I was the first by grades and in the festival. I tried not to take it personally… I took it personally. “To fight” first Bakugou and now the teachers. “You’re going to have to work together boys, if you want to win” his smile only grew with a chuckle.

Teachers P.O.V (third person)

The teachers began to talk about the exam, explaining why it needed to be changed and how. Some teachers were against the idea but the topic of the league of villains attacking once more quickly changed their minds, why wouldn’t it? The heroes in training need to be ready if anything ever happens. Hero Killer Stain may be gone, but for how long, how long until someone takes his place? Everyone was now on the same page about the students fighting the teachers.

“Right, now let’s talk about the teams” Aizawa held a pile of papers in his hand, looking down at the first team “First, Todoroki, he’s doing quite well generally speaking but relies too much on brute force. Yaoyorozu is an all-rounder but lacks the ability to make spur of the moment decisions and apply them. Therefore I’ll erase their quirks and take advantage of their weaknesses” with the simple explanation all the teachers had agreed happily. It was fair, one liked to take control while the other feared to make decisions by erasing their quirks they would have to work together. “Next for Midoriya and Bakugou I’m leaving them to you All Might,” said male looked confused a little taken back by the conclusion of his pair. “In this case, I didn’t pair the two based on ability or classwork, I went with relationships. I know you’ve got a soft spot for Midoriya, please ensure that they learn something” Aizawa pointed out and.

“I will do my best” All Might nod in affirmative. It would be hard for the number one Hero, he did have a soft spot for the green-headed successor but he also had a soft spot for the explosive teen who loved to cause damage. He was nervous but would do what he needed.

“The next group is Anyama and Uraraka, I picked this pair based on relationships as well. I have never seen them talk and in the hero world you will need to pair with random heroes, they need to learn to pair with whoever” Aizawa explained then looked to No. 13 “I have paired them with you, both their quirks will be easy to fend off with your own and they will need to think outside the box”

“I see” No 13 pondered then nodded “I look forward to facing them, I hope they can work well together” she concluded with the other teachers agreeing. As she was given the papers to learn more about them and how their quirks worked.

“Forwarding on, Ashido and Kaminari this pair is based purely on grades. They are the lowest in class but seem to work well together. They both need work on their quirks so this is why I'm pairing them with Nezu. They need to think outside the box and quickly as well as together” Aizawas’ eyes turned to Neku who was smiling and quite happy to take the pages of the two students' information.

“Very good thinking” Nezu nodded his eyes growing narrowed and smirking “I am quite excited to face these two in the exam” everyone knew Nezus’ past and his slight dislike for the human race.

“Moving onto Tsu and Tokoyami both strong quirks but both are long-distance fighters, preferring to stay back. Relying heavily on their quirks. So Ectoplasm” Aizawa’s eyes moved to the Pro who nodded indicating he was listening. “Your clones will provide close combat as well as distance. They need to work on thinking quickly as well and not relying on their quirks”

“Understood” his creepy voice spoke out into the room, a man of few words as many knew him. The pages were handed over easily and his eyes began to scan the information. Sure all the teachers had taught them but any extra information was useful.

“The next pair is based purely on fighting style and speed, Ojiro and Iida. They work well in teams and can talk to anyone, they rely on speed and technique. This is why I'm pairing them with Power Loader because they will have to move faster, think as one and make sure they watch what is going on around them all at once” another explanation down.

“This will be interesting” Power Loaded nodded and Aizawa knew he had a smile on his face even though this headgear was stopping most from seeing. Aizawa had spent a lot of thought and time working on these pairs.

“Kirishima and Sato are with Cementoss, I paired them on strength and they have close grades as well as their quirks are both short term. Both friendly and enjoy working in teams. Let’s see how they fare against Cementoss who can change the location outlook in a matter of seconds” Aizawa smirked to the fellow Pro who thought for a moment and then nodded.

“I wouldn’t hurt them as much as the other students if I go for a hit and they need to work on speed and agility. A very good pairing Eraserhead” Cementoss nodded and took the papers. He too began to look through the information provided, he had taught them and only saw Kirishima at the festival using his quirk.

“Koda and Jirou are with Mic as they both rely on sound to use their quirk, it’ll be hard to use sound when someone is yelling over the top of them” this pair was easy to see the potential for a fight. “Koji will be required to talk more and build teamwork, Jirou will be tasked with helping him”

“Yo yo that sounds awesome Eraserhead. Perfect pair for me indeed” the loud hero smiled and nodded bobbing to music that wasn’t playing as he grabbed the papers and put them down in front of him with ease.

“Shoji and Toru will be placed with Snipe. Their quirks are stealth-based and with someone shooting at them it will be hard to stay quiet and move in silence” Aizawa conducted putting the two pages together and hitting them against the table to make them even before handing them over to the hero who only nodded.

“That leaves just me” Midnight smiled and placed her head atop her hands, her smile turning into a smirk “With Mineta and Sero am I correct,” she asked licking her lips.

“Correct. I put them with you as Mineta can get” he paused shaking his head “Distracted while Sero is mostly speeding. Both with different fighting styles and outlooks on being a hero plus I found out they both look up to you” Aizawa answered with ease handing over the last pair of pages.

“I do look forward to breaking them” licking her lips again she nodded and sighed out. Placing the pages down “Are we done? So soon” she questioned, that was a short meeting but if the pairs were decided it was to be expected.

“No, there is one more student” Aizawa sighed and everyone was paying full attention “Y/N” he breathed out and everyone nodded. “Her quirk can be used in any situation and against any quirk, plus they can become physical. She could simply put an illusion of herself and no one would know the difference” he looked down to the paper seeing her face in the picture “I don’t know what to do” he answered honestly “She was first in the festival and first grade-wise, I heard the other students. She hadn’t slept in days to study for the test” the teachers all nodded.

“Her quirk is a problem, she could easily get past any of us” Cementoss nodded adding his input into the conversation. Everyone sat in silence as Aizawa looked down to the paper with all her details. She was a perfect student for UA.

“She athletic as well” everyone turned to Snipe, the teacher who had taken her as a sidekick for a week. “She beat me in hand to hand” that stopped the teachers. “Her quirk works on thinking, she showed me something that” he paused and shook his head and licking his lips behind his mask “She had a conversation with me while also talking to a coworker at the same time. Her mind was doing two different things simultaneously while also keeping up the illusion”

Midnight shook her head “That takes extreme power, in the festival her illusion looked so real. I believed it” She added nodding her head, a hand coming to her chin to think. Cementoss agreed.

“She doesn’t rely purely on her quirk but also does. No matter who she went against, if it was a formal and acknowledged physical fight, if someone managed to beat her, I would be quite impressed” Snipe nodded as the other teachers agreed. Snipe was the only one who knew of her ‘weakness’ but he would never tell and even if he did it wouldn’t matter she knew everyone here.

“I have an idea” Principal Nezu spoke up thoughtfully and all the teachers were open ears for the suggestion “What if we all went against her at once. It would prove she’s been working on her quirk, how many things she can create at one given moment. How quickly she can think and act” it was a good idea but the idea of it was unfair. “It may seem unfair to the child but we don’t have another option” all the teachers agreed, though some not looking as determined as others. “Though she has one rule” why would she have a rule and no one else, her test was already quite unfair. “She must show at least one teacher her true self during the exercise, she needs a challenge” the teachers felt bad but it was for her good. They had to test her as hard as they could. Even if she took down two maybe three teachers they would be impressed.

“Then it’s decided, Y/N goes against all of us, at once”

Y/N P.O.V

Once all the names were called out with their pairs I looked around and was confused. I was guessing they put a group of three, had they forgotten about me? Was I not seen as a threat that much that they just excluded me? “Um” I put my hand up and the class stopped talking turning to me. “I wasn’t paired,” I said slowly smiling as I did, an awkward smile and I could see the confusion of my peers.

“You’re a special case Y/N” Aizawa looked me dead in the eyes and I nodded slowly, my eyebrows drawn in confusion as I waited for an answer pursing my lips. “You will be fighting” I nodded and smiled, OK, so I wasn’t getting kicked out or something.

“OK” I nodded slowly and looked around “Am I joining a pair or something” I looked around and saw pleading faces for me to join groups. I had to be joining a group, there was no other way to complete the test or was someone going to have to do it twice, would I do it alone?

“You will be competing alone” Aizawa added carefully and I felt my hands shake slightly, I could beat them. I nodded still confused. All the teachers were taken. What weren’t they telling me?

“Am I getting a teacher brought in or something or is a teacher doubling up?” I asked looking over everyone before landing back on Aizawa for the answer. Everyone was silent as the teachers waited for the answer and my peers listened in.

“You are very strong” Aizawa began, this didn’t sound good. Bakugou and Midoriya already had All Might who was the top hero. Was I going to be fighting Endeavor or something, Best Jeaniest maybe? I felt my heart begin to race “After some talk and decision making we decided that you” he paused and then looked straight at me with a smirk “Will be fighting us all at once” I felt my eyes grow wide and gasps were heard behind me as my heart sank.

I was going to be fighting them all… at once. Alone. Someone catch me. ________________________________________________________________

Chapter 6

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