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justmeinadaze · 1 year

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We're A Family Part 5 (Steddie X You)

A/N: This was the other chapter I mentioned finishing last night. I kid you not I have so many tiktoks saved of how I picture these two as fathers to a baby. Lol. Enjoy <3.

Warnings: Not smut just an ungodly amount of fluff with slight angst from Mr. Harrington causing a ruckus and being a dick to Steve and the reader. The boys talk about their trauma briefly with Dylan. I think that's it.

Word Count: 3439

“Who’s this?” The doctor smiles at the young boy being held in Steve’s arms.

“This is my son, Dylan. He’s anxious like they are to find out what it is.”, you chuckle as he prepares you for the ultrasound.

“Ah, I see and what are the bets at?”

“Split 50/50.”, Eddie grins as he holds your hand.

The doctor laughs as he runs the wand along your belly. “How have you been feeling, Y/N?”

“Exhausted. She kind of started moving around a couple of weeks ago and loves cupcakes but there never seems to be enough in the house.” You playfully scowl at every member in your little family.

“Ay, dads. You two really need to shape up if you want mom to have a happy, peaceful pregnancy.” His eyes meet your wide ones as he glances at the other two men in the room. “Honey, we don’t judge here. As long as you and your baby are safe…that’s all I care about.”

Eddie caresses your hand comfortingly with his thumb as he smiles.

“And as always, it seems like the mama knows everything. Congratulations.”, he grins. “Meet your daughter.”

####################

You look down at Wayne from your place on the step stool as he giggles to himself. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, sweetheart. I’m just picturing my nephew as a girl dad. I can absolutely see it but it’s a funny image.”

Smiling, you focus back on the wall in front of you. Eddie’s uncle had come over to see the ultrasound and offered to help you guys paint the spare bedroom. The guys had already moved out all the instruments and cleared the room while Dylan helped place the tap along the base boards. While the boys went to go grab some food, you took advantage of the time to help Wayne.

The further along you got in in your pregnancy the more protective they became.

“Baby! Get down from there. Wayne, don’t let her do that.” Eddie quickly shuffled to you, gripping your forearm as he guided you down the two-step ladder.

“Edward, she’s two feet off the ground! She’s fine.”, his uncle laughed.

“We’ve been calling you for a few minutes. We brought back some burgers.”

“Oh, thank God. I’m starving!” He grins at you as you three descend the stairs.

“She was on the stepstool painting.” Steve turned from Eddie to you with a playfully frustrated look on his face.

“Tattletale.” You throw a napkin at him as Dylan laughs.

“Have you guys thought of a name yet?”, Wayne asks.

“I like Arwen.” You and the metalhead smile at your son as the other man looks around confused.

“The pointy eared girl in Lord of the Rings.”, Eddie explains as Steve nods. “We, honestly, haven’t really talked about it. What were you going to name him if he was a girl?”

Your grin grows already knowing where Dylan will take this. “I swear this is a coincidence but I always liked the name Lily.”

“Like Harry Potter’s mom!”

“Yes, weirdo BUT like I said. Coincidence.”, you laugh. “What about you guys?”

“His mom wanted to name him Leanne, if he was a girl.” Wayne smirks at Eddie’s scrunched face.

“I’ve always liked Aurora.” Steve looked up from his plate to realize everyone was looking at him. “What? My mom showed me that Disney movie when I was a kid where the girl gets cursed if she pokes her finger on the wheel thing.”

“On the wheel thing…”

“Shut up, Eddie. You mean Sleeping Beauty.”

“Yeah! Thank you, baby. Anyway, she dances to that song “Once Upon a Dream”. When I was in school, I always wanted to be the prince dancing with the girl but…no. Munson will laugh at me.”

“Steven, I promise if he does, I’ll throw him out.” Eddie stuck his tongue out at his uncle who responded with a joking stern stare.

Steve sighs as he looks over at you. “Since I found out you were pregnant, I started picturing me singing it to her.”

“No…you can’t do this to me. I have all the hormones.” You smile as you hold back your tears, walking over to give him a hug.

“I like Aurora.” Eddie smiles as he winks at you both.

“Me to.”, Dylan adds as Steve reaches over to ruffle his hair.

The doorbell suddenly rings causing both boys to begin getting out of their seats.

“Oh my god. I’m pregnant not broken. I’m standing! Let me answer the door.” Shaking your head at their antics, you head to see who it is. Your smile fades as you breathe a sigh, opening the front door, and stepping outside. “What can I do for you, Mr. Harrington?”

“Is my son here?”

“Why? What do you need from him?”

“Just get my son, please.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I said no. I’m not going to let you hurt him. He’s been doing so much better without you constantly belittling him.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? He was doing just fine before you stuck your claws in him, you gold digging whore!”

“Really? Is that best you got? I love your son and I have never once asked him for a dime.”

Mr. Harrington scoffed as he pushed past you into the house, marching towards the kitchen.

“Dad? What are you—”

“Steven, we need to talk.”

“Uh, Dylan. Why don’t you come help me finish painting the wall upstairs?” Wayne reached for the boy’s hand who immediately pulled it away, placing himself at Steve’s side.

“No! You’re rude and we don’t talk to family the way you talk to him.”

Steve’s dad turns to glare at you. “Definitely your kid.”

“He actually picked up that protectiveness from your son.”

Steve lifts Dylan in his arms and passes him to Eddie’s uncle. “I got this, little man. Thank you for standing up for me.” The little boy’s eyes stay on his as Wayne carries him up the stairs. “Why don’t you help them, honey.”

“Steve Harrington, your insane if you think I’m leaving you down here.”

His head cranes to find Eddie, who nods in affirmation as he leans against the counter.

“So… she’s pregnant? Who’s the father?”

“We are.”

Mr. Harrington laughs like his son had just said the stupidest thing he had ever heard. “Steven, come on. That’s just not reality.”

“Oh, thanks for that. Her mom already beat you to that lecture though.”

“Ah, yes. It seems your mother has become closer with hers. They spend almost every evening at the country club racking up my credit card bill. Like mother like daughter.”, he rolls his eyes.

“Dad, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Apparently, I’m a gold-digging whore according to your father.” You walked past him to stand by Eddie, seeing his palms clench against counter.

Fire ignited in Steve’s eyes as he took a step forward. “You called her that?”

“I call it like a see it. Look at her. She could barely afford to take care of a child by herself. That’s why she was living in those god awful apartments. Thankfully, she landed in the lap of a Harrington and got pregnant!”

“So…what am I to her then? A consolation prize?”, Eddie asks sarcastically. “Because I definitely don’t come from money. I mean I am sexier than him but...”

“Eddie…”, you chided.

“I’m making a point here, sweetheart.”

“If I were you…I would leave now and get a paternity test before she takes your last name.” Your eyes widen as both boys look at him with confusion. Mr. Harrington turns to face you. “You haven’t told him?”

“Please… don’t do this. I was going to surprise them.”

“That’s why I came over. To warn and protect my son.” He fishes into his jacket pocket and pulls out some photocopied papers as he tosses them towards Steve. “Thankfully, I have friends in some pretty high places.”

You hang your head as you feel yourself start to cry.

“What is this, Y/N?”

“I…I was doing research into if I could put both your last names on the baby’s birth certificate and…and I found out that in Indiana I can change my last name if I file some paperwork. I put in a request last week to get that started…to change my last name to Munson-Harrington.” Your eyes find theirs as you shrug. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Steve’s arms wrapped around you as he pulled you to his chest. “Honey, I love it. You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

“I know. I just thought it would make it more official, I guess.”

Eddie kissed your temple as he placed his hand on your hip, tugging you closer to his side. Steve turned to face his father. “Get out of my house.”

“Steven—”

“Get. Out. You insulted the woman I love and were disrespectful to me and my family. I won’t tolerate it.”

“Look at you still playing the family man. Fine. Have it your way but don’t you dare come begging me for a handout when you realize handling TWO children, especially a baby, is too hard and expensive. You are NOT ready for this, son.”

“Not even a little but that’s what being a parent is. The only things I do know are that I love her so fucking much and I’m never going to let her grow up the way I did.”

His father shot him one last dirty look before spinning on his heels and slamming the front door as he left.

“Well look at you, you sexy bastard.” Eddie clapped as Steve turned back to you two. “Good job, Harrington.”

The man smiled till he noticed you were making a funny face. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…just weird. I forgot what that felt like.” You reached for his palm and placed it on the side of your belly. Steve eyebrows raised when felt something push against it. “She started moving when you told your dad to leave. I think she’s proud of you to.”

His face lights up as he descends to his knees in front of you. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”, Steve whisper, grinning from ear to ear as she pushes against him again. “Eddie, feel this.” He tugs the boy’s wrist, placing it where his head at been.

“I don’t feel anything.” As he spoke, the baby kicked again making you giggle.

“Well, she likes you two.”

#############

“Hey, dude. I’m going to try something. You want to come help me?”, Eddie asked.

Dylan nodded excitedly as he bounced on your bed closer to where he was sitting at with his guitar. The metalhead grabbed your hands and dramatically pulled you to a sitting position making you smile.

“Ok, I know mom will like this but let’s see how little Ro feels.” He reached for the little boy’s palms and placed them in a random spot on your stomach. Steve rounded the corner, leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom as Eddie began to strum the instrument and softly sing.

“Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes But it's the only thing that I know When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes It is the only thing makes us feel alive.”

You feel movement in your tummy but it’s not enough for Dylan to feel it to. Gently, you slide his hands across your skin to where she was, hoping she’d do it again.

“We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken And time's forever frozen, still…”

His wide eyes meet yours as the baby kicks against his palm. “Eddie! She likes it!”, Dylan exclaimed as he put his other hand down to feel more.

“So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home”

“Wow. Does it hurt?”

“No. It just feels weird.”

“It looks like that scene from Alien.”, Eddie grins as he places his guitar to the side.

Dylan flashes you a confused face and you immediately cut him off before he can ask. “It’s a movie and NO you can’t watch it.” You turn to jokingly glare at Steve. “And don’t you dare show it to him. I don’t care what Robin says.”

He holds up his hands defensively as he jumps into the bed, sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Steve, why is your dad so mean?”

“Whoa, where did that come from?”, you ask.

“I’m just…curious. He shouts loud like my dad. Maybe YOU should take time away from him too!”

Steve chuckles under his breath. “I think that’s a good idea, kid. I…I have no idea why he’s like that. Maybe because his dad wasn’t so great either.”

His tiny face scrunches together as Dylan looks at you before addressing the man again. “I don’t get it. If his dad was mean to him…and your dad is mean to you…you’re not mean.”

“Jesus Christ, dude, you have a big brain.”, Eddie reaches over and lightly hits the boy’s knee making him smile.

“I was mean for a while. Then my senior year I decided I didn’t want to be like that anymore.”

“Oh.”, he nodded as he turned to sit in Steve’s lap. “What about you, Eddie? I haven’t met your dad. Is he mean?”

“Oh, baby. I don’t think we should—”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. He’s actually never really asked before. I don’t mind.”, Eddie grinned comfortingly at you before face Dylan. “Yeah, kid. My dad was…a total butthead. But I moved in with Wayne when I was a couple of years older than you and he’s the best dad I could have asked for.”

“Why did you move in with him?”

“Um…” He glances at you making sure it’s ok to tell him and you slightly nod as you reach for his hand. “My dad…did something he shouldn’t have…and went to jail.”

Dylan focuses his eyes in front of him, pouting out his lips as he thinks. You reach out and run your fingers through his hair. “What’s running through your mind, weirdo?”

“Sirius.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone as he points to Eddie and Steve.

You can’t help but giggle, loving the way your son chooses to understand things. “Go get it.”

He smiles as he slides off the man’s lap and runs to his bedroom. “What is he doing?”

Dylan comes back into your room and hops back onto the bed, flipping through the pages of the Harry Potter book he had grabbed. You look over it with him, pointing when you find what he’s looking for. He clears his throat as he begins to read out loud.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry. You're not a bad person. You're a very good person, who bad things have happened to. Besides, the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are.”

Eddie chuckles as he tugs on the boy’s arm, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

Steve’s phone vibrates and he leans over to grab it from the nightstand. You notice his face fall before he sighs. “I’ll, um…I’ll be right back.”

The metalhead follows him with his eyes before glancing at you and gesturing for you to follow him. “Come on, dude. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

############

“No, mom. I’m not going to let him…Mom, you don’t understand…”

You found Steve outside on the back patio, pacing as he talked on his phone. He seemed so flustered as he spoke and it broke your heart. He deserved better.

“Because I’m not going to let him come into MY house and disrespect me and my family… I don’t fucking care! Let him cut me off. He keeps threatening to do it. Let him fucking follow through!” He paused when saw you watching him and you immediately fell into his arms, wrapping your own tightly around his waist. His hand pressed you closer to his chest as he rested his cheek in your hair.

“Mom, look, I don’t know what you want from me. It is what it is. I love Y/N and Eddie. I’m not leaving them to make dad happy so he’ll give me an inheritance. He should want to that anyway so his grandson and granddaughter are taken care of.”

Steve sighed as you heard silence on the other end. “Yeah…we’re having a girl by the way. Her name is Aurora. Congratulations.” With that he hung up and placed the phone on the banister.

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“Naw, baby. I’m not.” He backed into one of the patio chairs and pulled you onto his lap. “If they want to be that way that’s fine. I have you guys.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He smiled as you kissed his forehead.

“Hey, um, I wanted to talk to you and Ed about something—”

“Talk to Ed about what?”, Eddie asks.

“Geez, like fucking Beetlejuice. Say his name three times and he’ll appear.” The metalhead flashed the boy a cheesy grin as he stepped off the patio into the grass. “Where are you going?”

“I need a smoke and you need to talk so I’m getting away from our pregnant wife so both tasks can be completed.” He lights his cigarette and gestures towards Steve. “Go on.”

“So, I was thinking, my dad is an asshole but he is right. My salary isn’t enough to really do much when it comes to supporting us. I mean out of the three of us I make the least.”

“Baby, you know that doesn’t matter to us.”

“I know, honey, but I want to do more. Not just financially but in life. I was thinking, maybe, I could try applying to school again.”

You and Eddie smile at each other run your fingers through his hair. “What were you thinking about getting a degree in?”

“I don’t know. I mean I’m good with kids. I was thinking about possibly teaching.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Harrington.”

“Yeah? I figure I can go part time and—”

“Don’t overload yourself, Steve. Of course, I want this for you but I don’t want your burn out either.”

“We’ll figure it out, princess. Just one thing at a time. He said it’s something he wanted to do. He hasn’t even applied yet.”

You nod as you lean against Steve’s shoulder.

“Can we talk about one more thing that we haven’t really gotten to focus on since Harrington’s dad did his little emotional drive by?” You both laugh as he continues. “What did you find out, Y/N, about putting our names on the baby’s birth certificate?”

“I found out that I can give her your last names…” You sit up and rise to your feet. “But only me and one of you can be put on the document itself.”

“So we DO need to get a paternity test.” Eddie stomped out his cigarette before picking it up and bringing it to the ashtray.

“I’m sorry.” The metalhead came up and pulled you to his chest. “It feels wrong. I wish I hadn’t fucked up so we could have done this the right way.”

“Define ‘right way’ in our dynamic.”, Steve chuckles as he stands and encircles you in his arms as well. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Like we said, she’s OUR daughter.”

Eddie kisses your forehead as he moves to open the backdoor for you. “That paperwork that you filed for your last name? How long does that take?”

“A few months they said. There are a few things they need to go over and some more papers I need to fill out. It doesn’t entitle me to anything and I’m not sure why your father thinks it does but”, you shrug.

“Honey, even without our last names you’re definitely entitled to everything. You and Eddie…Anything that’s mine is yours.” You smile as Steve winks.

“Aw. How sweet it is to be loved by you, Harrington.” The man hangs his arm around the boy’s neck. “I’d say dido but I don’t have much. The guitar would go to the kid as well as my D & D set. Hm… Oh! Babe, you can have my leather jacket and Steve can take my stash.”

“Oh my god! You both are a mess.”

#############

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training4theapocalypse · 1 month

Text

Finders Keepers Ch 18. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (no smut in this particular chapter)

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Summary: Hogwarts has changed.

A/N: This took a hot minute but on the plus side I have the next three chapters written and ready to post! Next chapter coming next Sunday <3

Masterlist

Chapter 18: Calling

Your heart pounds as you make your way through the secret passageway from the Hog’s Head to Hogwarts. This must be how some people feel walking out of the dark tent of the Quidditch changing rooms and onto the roaring pitch. But not you - never you. The feeling of the broom handle slipping from your clutch so often you have to swap hands is an unexpected departure from the norm - something experienced by lesser players.

But this is no game.

Because if your side doesn’t win, you’ll be sent straight back to Azkaban. And you’re not letting that happen. They won’t take you alive. You’d rather die - you’d rather take a killing curse straight to the chest than go back to Azkaban. You can’t do it again. You’re not as brave or resilient as McLaggen.

Though you’ve not yet told him this worry that has been playing on your mind as the two of you, Cho, Marietta, Carmichael, Leanne, Katie, Davies and Krum walk down the winding passageway in silent anticipation, each of you with your brooms in hand.

After what seems like an extremely long time, you hear noise coming from behind a door at the end of the passageway. It’s easy to pretend it’s a crowd of excited Quidditch fans anticipating your walk-out. It steadies you and makes it easier for you to hold onto your slipping broom. As you approach the sounds of chatter and laughter, you can’t imagine what there is to be happy about - the D.A. coins just said that you were supposed to be fighting. Neville Longbottom will be on the receiving end of your fist if you’re here on a fool’s errand.

Cho pushes open the door and you appear to have stepped into some kind of makeshift camp. Around twenty students are milling around underneath a mishmash of hammocks and banners depicting Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house hangings. A Muggle storybook that your dad used to read to you comes to mind. Peter Pan. You look at the students and realise how young they all look in their school uniforms. This is a hideout for lost children. It makes you notice how much taller and older you are since the last time you were in the castle.

The old stone walls look like the ones in Hogwarts but you certainly don’t remember a room like this. “Are we - is this Hogwarts?” you ask McLaggen when you, Krum and Davies, are the only ones who look puzzled.

“Room of Requirement,” McLaggen says, squeezing your much smaller, slightly damp hand. His touch is reassuring. You’d wipe your hand on your fresh pair of jeans first if it was anyone else reaching for it. But McLaggen would never be disgusted by your nerves. It only makes him hold on tighter and rub the back of your hand with his thumb.

The arrival of your noticeably older group seems to have interrupted something important. There’s a split second of silence when everyone turns to look at you all. “I got the message,” says Cho, holding up her fake galleon sheepishly. And that’s when you clock him.

Harry Potter.

Cho’s ex-boyfriend and Undesirable Number One stares open-mouthed at her. Marietta’s smirk paints a picture of her blatant enjoyment of Potter’s shock even in the face of a battle. Cho smiles diplomatically and links her arm through Krum’s.

You wonder if Potter has been hiding here all this time. In the school itself. If he has, Potterwatch certainly never reported that.

As the rest of you follow her towards a small group of Ravenclaws sitting on a bench near the back of the room, there’s a mixture of exclamations and mutterings. There’s a spotlight on you. To be observed from all sides like this is suffocating. The last time you were around this many people was when you were marched through the Ministry atrium by Mr McLaggen after you’d just been sentenced to another two years in Azkaban.

“Is that - ?”

“Krum! It’s Viktor Krum!”

“They’re the ones that broke all the Muggleborns out of Azkaban, right?”

“Oh my gosh, Marietta!” The Patil twins and Lavender Brown greet Marietta with squeals and air kisses. You try not to frown. They’re acting like you’re at a high school reunion instead of battle preparations.

Just then, the crowd parts and you see two familiar faces from the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. Although you recognise them, their faces are significantly different from when you last saw them.

“Alright, Captain? Azkaban not exciting enough or something?” asks Terry Boot. You gape at him when he shakes your hand. He looks, frankly, dreadful. His lip is bloody and several of his teeth are missing. There are gouges on his forearms that look as though they’ve been made by a blade. Michael Corner, who shakes your hand next doesn’t look much better. His half-closed, swollen, bruised eye resembles McLaggen’s after his fight with Marcus Flint and Cerys Thicknesse.

“Terry! Michael! Has - has the fighting started then?” you ask.

“This?” asks Terry, examining his own forearms in surprise, like he’s forgotten he’s sporting half-healed wounds. “Nah, this was the Carrows.”

“The Carrows?” you ask, thinking about what you’ve read in the Daily Prophet. “Those Death Eaters who’re teaching here now?”

“Yeah,” replies Terry. “It’s not the same here, Captain. I mean, Muggle Studies turned into Alecto Carrow lecturing us on how Muggleborns are just Muggles who stole magic from unsuspecting wizards.”

“I know a thing or two about that,” you say sourly. “I don’t know how much you heard about why I was sent to Azkaban but -”

“‘Course we know. What, you think we haven’t been keeping up with the player who ‘hoodwinked the Harpies’? That’s how I got this.” Terry rolls up his shirt to reveal a long, healed scar on his torso. “Back in October, Alecto was using you and Carmichael as examples of what happens to Muggles who steal magic. So I asked her who stole her magic since she was so bloody useless.”

“Terry…” You’re too stunned to even finish your sentence.

“Bloody hell, mate. And they did that to you?” asks Carmichael.

“That’s not the worst of it, I mean, Michael got tortured pretty badly for trying to set some first years free from the dungeons.”

Michael shrugs his shoulders and glances at his ex-girlfriend, Cho, expectantly. Perhaps hoping she’ll be impressed.

“The dungeons? They’re locking students up?” Cho asks.

“Yeah! By their ankles and everything. Hogwarts has changed.” Michael pauses before giving you a funny kind of grin. “They’ve even cancelled Quidditch.”

Before you can open your mouth to reply, Harry Potter gets the room’s attention.

“Okay,” Potter calls to the room at large. Everyone shuts up. You feel alert. Not quite the same cheery excitement as everyone else but something is stirring inside you. Maybe your body is relieved that win or lose, this is all about to be over. Potter continues. “We’re back because there’s something we need to find. Something… something that will help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It’s here at Hogwarts but we don’t know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?”

You, Cho, Marietta and the other Ravenclaws exchange significant looks. There’s only one object like that. When you were at Hogwarts, you passed by the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing it every day.

But Luna Lovegood pipes up before any of you can. “Well, there’s her lost diadem,” she says in a dreamy voice. “The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. Daddy’s trying to duplicate it.”

“Yeah, but the lost diadem is lost, Luna. That’s sort of the point,” says Michael, rolling his eyes.

“When was it lost?” asks Potter.

Jesus Christ, pick up a history book. You pull a face and look at McLaggen but you rearrange your expression quickly when he’s just as perplexed as Potter.

“Centuries ago, they say,” says Cho, much more kindly than you would have. You can’t fathom how the diadem would help defeat You-Know-Who. You picture Potter wearing the tiara mid-duel, glittering above his scar. “Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked but -” She looks at you. “They’ve never found a trace of it, have they?” You shake your head.

“Sorry, but what is a diadem?” asks the worst keeper to have ever graced the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. It’s not a stupid question but you find yourself rolling your eyes. Even now, almost two years after Ron Weasley was chosen over McLaggen for the Gryffindor team, his presence annoys you.

“It’s kind of a crown,” says Terry. “Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical properties. Enhance the wisdom of the wearer.”

“And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?” asks Potter.

“If you’d like to see what the diadem is supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry?” Cho suggests. “Ravenclaw’s wearing it in her statue.”

Potter, Weasley and Granger huddle together to discuss this. Ugh, Granger. You didn’t even notice her at first but the sight of her makes you realise you’re holding a grudge. The scars from her curse still mark Marietta’s face. It’s been years since the entire Umbridge debacle and you can still make out the word ‘SNEAK’ across her nose and cheeks. You glance at Marietta to see if the same irritation you feel is mirrored on her face too but she doesn’t seem bothered. In spite of everything, she’s quicker to forgive than you are. And you think Carmichael has been a good influence on her.

But even though Carmichael might like Marietta’s scars because they give her an ‘edge’, you decide that after the battle you’ll repay Marietta for her part in getting you out of Azkaban by trying to reason with Granger - you’ll ask her to break the curse. If you win and Marietta is seen to be helping, surely Granger will at least do that for her.

“Listen, I know it’s not much of a lead but I’m going to go and look at this statue. At least find out what the diadem looks like,” announces Potter.

Cho gets to her feet but Ginny Weasley gets to hers too.

“No, Luna will take Harry! Won’t you, Luna?” Ginny says urgently.

“Calm down. Nobody wants your man,” Marietta mutters under her breath and even though you like Ginny, the unexpected jibe makes you snort a laugh.

“Ooh, yes, I’d like to,” says Luna and Cho sits down looking disappointed. You’ve all been trapped inside doing nothing for so long, you know she was desperate for the chance to be useful. Marietta touches her shoulder comfortingly as she sits.

“So what are we meant to do now?” McLaggen asks nobody in particular as the buzz of conversation resumes and Potter and Luna leave the Room of Requirement.

“Wait for the Chosen One, to return with an ancient magic relic that’s been lost for centuries?” you suggest, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should only take him ten or so minutes, I suppose.”

“Viktor!” Calls a voice. You all turn around to see Fleur Delacour entering the room through the passageway with more stragglers. “I ‘ave been worrying about you since I saw you in ze Daily Prophet!” Krum goes over to greet her and she throws her arms around him.

“Woah, steady on Cho,” says Carmichael, bracing Cho’s shoulders as if holding her back. You share her perplexed look when she frowns.

“Come on, she’s not jealous of old friends catching up,” says Marietta.

“Yeah, what are you on about, Eddie?” asks Cho, looking perplexed as she turns to look up at Carmichael standing behind her bench.

“I know you’re not jealous,” he grins. “It’s just that Fleur’s the only Triwizard Champion you haven’t gone out with yet. I thought you might need help restraining yourself.”

“Oh, shut up!” laughs Cho, slapping him away. You and McLaggen crack up at this.

“Katie!” Another group emerges from the Hog’s Head passageway. You all spin around again to see Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnston and Alicia Spinnet entering the room.

Everyone exchanges hugs and greetings and you keep an eye on the door - the parade of people coming through the passageway is getting thicker. Some you recognise, like students from the years above you, your old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin and the Aurors who patrolled Hogsmeade in your seventh year.

“So, McLaggen, is it true that Captain’s been holding you and Marietta hostage?” asks Michael, raising an eyebrow.

You and McLaggen catch up with Terry and Michael. They share more gruesome details of what’s been happening with Hogwarts and you tell them the truth of what happened in Azkaban - from the fight that led to your trial to Carmichael’s breakout as the room continues to fill up with more and more people.

Sometime later, the door at the top of the staircase opens and McLaggen stands up, looking over your shoulder. “Merlin’s beard, he’s done it. Potter’s got the diadem,” says McLaggen.

“What?!” You stand up, letting your broom fall out of your lap.

You look up just in time to see Harry Potter practically tumbling down the top few stairs in shock at the size of the crowd. Noticeably diadem-less.

“‘Course, he hasn’t. I just wanted to see the look on your face,” laughs McLaggen.

“Harry, what’s happening?” asks Professor Lupin, meeting Potter at the stairs as you all gaze up at him.

“Voldemort’s on his way. They’re barricading the school,” says Potter. You inhale sharply and McLaggen puts an arm around your shoulders instinctively. You-Know-Who is coming here. To Hogwarts. “We’re evacuating the younger kids. Everyone’s meeting in the Great Hall. We’re fighting.”

A chill runs through the room, palpable in the sudden stillness that follows Potter's words. You catch Cho's eye, the fear and determination mirrored in her gaze reflecting your own feelings. Marietta fixes the front of her cardigan nervously. McLaggen's grip around you tightens.

You’re fighting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire castle is alight with anticipation. The weight of the impending battle presses down on the atmosphere, darkening the night sky as you and McLaggen lead your group out of the Great Hall. As the most competent on brooms, you and your friends will be covering the sky, leading the aerial defence which suits you just fine.

Cool night air hits your face as the eleven of you make your way through the organised chaos and out, down the front steps of the castle. But just before you stop in the old stone courtyard and ready your brooms, Marietta and Carmichael jog to meet you and McLaggen at the front.

“Wait!” says Marietta, running to catch up. “Listen, Eddie and I are going to find McGonagall and help with her group. Neither of us is great on a broom.”

“What are you talking about? You’re miles better than you used to be -” You start but Marietta doesn’t let you finish.

“This isn’t like practising at home,” says Marietta seriously. “We need to play to our strengths here or else we’ll die.”

Your mind whirs and you know Marietta’s has already weighed it all up too. Head versus heart. As usual, your head wins. That Ravenclaw logic that you both have in common. Of course, you’d like Marietta and Carmichael by your side as you face certain death but you need to admit she’s right. Everyone needs to do what gives your side the best chance of winning.

“But we’ve been practising for a reason,” urges McLaggen, his heart elbowing its way into the conversation to try and win the argument. “This is the reason! We should stick together.”

“We shouldn’t stick together for the sake of it, mate. Worst case scenario, is that Maz and I hold you back and end up getting one of you killed,” says Carmichael.

All of a sudden, Cho lets out a choked sob and grabs Marietta. You throw your arms around her too and hold on tight. You get a face full of Marietta’s curly auburn hair as the three of you clutch onto each other.

“Eddie and I are better at Transfiguration -” she tells your shoulder.

“Way better than you lot,” calls Carmichael.

Marietta pulls back. “We’re going to help McGonagall with the battlements. She’s already transfigured the suits of armour but we think she’s forgotten about the gargoyle statues on the outside walls.” Her matter-of-fact voice grounds you.

You swallow thickly and try your best to nod. The jerk of your head makes the knot in your throat tighten. There’s no arguing with her reasoning.

“Don’t do anything reckless, alright?” Marietta’s question is directed at McLaggen specifically. He nods.

“We’ll see you when this is all over, innit?” says Carmichael with a cheeky grin that lights up his face. “This time tomorrow, we’ll be back at Seafarer’s having a party to celebrate.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, mucker,” you tell him before he and Marietta turn on their heels.

Nerves. Awful, gut-wrenching nerves rear their head again as you drag your eyes from Marietta and Carmichael’s silhouettes sprinting back through the open castle doors. Your hands shake as you grip your broom and get ready to kick off into the air.

At least when you were storming into Azkaban you knew what to expect. You were the ambushers. But tonight you’re sitting ducks. You look at McLaggen - his handsome face lit up by the glowing castle torches is so full of determination. His confidence helps you breathe a little easier.

Eleven brooms lift into the night sky, overlooking the ground from the courtyard below to those familiar old Quidditch stands in the distance. The mild summer night air sweeps through your hair. Your stomach settles immediately. You feel at home - just like your first flying lesson at Hogwarts. You were terrified of being launched into the air on nothing but a flimsy-looking piece of old wood. But as soon as you reached a height where you could see everything looking so small you became a giant on top of the world, ready to conquer anything.

You were made to do this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fire.

You’ve never seen flames so high or felt them so hot.

Your face burns, sweat drips down your back and your hands slip from your broom handle.

There’s a snapping and cracking of wood. You’ve never really appreciated just how tall the Quidditch stands are until two of them begin to topple over, burning across the width of the grass pitch in long, white-hot streaks.

Smoke floods your lungs - you’ve lost everyone in the opaque blackness. You can hear their shouting. You need to get higher. You could manage being out here yourself but keeping an eye on the others, worrying about them as they send jets of light through the smog, is distracting you.

More creaking and groaning from above you as you’re forced to double back on yourself to avoid the crashing down of another one of the stands.

Why is everything here made of wood?

When the Death Eaters set fire to the first stand, the rest of them caught in flames one after the other like toppling dominoes. It’s only right now that you realise how irresponsible it was of you to set McLaggen’s broomstick on fire last year in a fit of rage.

McGonagall really should have expelled you after all.

You see jets of light down below in the smoke and try not to panic. The smoke is even darker and thicker down where your friends are. They need to get higher too. So high that spells from Death Eaters on foot can’t reach any of you while you regroup.

“Formations!” you yell down into the billowing blackness. “Skyward! Skyward!” It’s useless. Fuck. They can’t hear you above the cracking of the flames and the screaming of curses. You point McLaggem’s dad’s wand at your throat and cast an amplifying charm. “Sonorus… SKYWARD!”

Your voice - magically amplified - booms across the pitch, slicing through the cacophony of flames and battle cries. Your team appears, rising through the smoke one by one: Krum. Wood. Cho. Katie. Alicia. Angelina. Leanne. Davies. Corner. Boot. And finally, McLaggen.

“What now Captain?” asks Cho.

You remove the amplifying charm. “Retreat. Back to the castle. The pitch is done for and we’re fighting one on one down there -”

“But that’s a good thing!” says McLaggen. “We’re keeping them away from the castle -”

“At what cost?” You snap over the roar of the fire. “We’re not sacrificing ourselves!”

“Listen, I know that you -”

But just what McLaggen knows about you is lost in chaos as a black swishing cloak in a stream of charcoal smoke flies through the middle of your group, sending you all scattering. You just about hang onto your broom. But then another one comes. And another one.

The Death Eaters can fly without brooms.

This is more than just apparition - they’re aiming themselves as you scatter, trying to purposefully knock you out of the air. And at this height, it means certain death.

Just as the thought crosses your mind - it happens. The world narrows to a single point of focus as you see a figure plummeting through the smoke-streaked sky, their descent uncontrolled and terrifying. All you know when you tilt your broom downwards and speed after them is that they’re one of your group.

If you make it quickly, you might be able to catch them.

“Arresto momentum!” bellows McLaggen’s voice behind you and the speeding body of Alicia Spinnett comes to a cushioned stop just feet above the ground. You decelerate as quickly as you can, your feet touching the ground precisely before you collide with her.

McLaggen lands with a thud beside her and lowers his wand. Alicia gets to her feet clutching her heart, searching for her wand in her pocket.

“Fuck. Shit. Thanks, McLaggen.” Alicia’s stunned gratitude is genuine.

He nods. “Just stay alive, alright?”

The rhetorical question hangs between them for just a second until it's punctuated by a yell from the flames behind you.

“Aha! Stupe -”

“Protego!” You whip around, hoping you’ve sent it in the right direction. Your invisible barrier flies up separating you, Alicia and McLaggen from the Death Eater just in time to deflect a stunning spell which rebounds and knocks him onto his back, out cold.

"Nice one," says McLaggen.

“Thanks.” Your voice is as steady as your wand arm, still holding up the shield charm as the three of you scan the pitch for further threats.

There’s another roaring creak above you. A flaming stand sways in the air and the three of you gape momentarily in shock as the burning wood begins tumbling down.

You and McLaggen retreat backwards while Alicia stumbles the other way. The colossal stand smashes onto the grass between you, sending tremors across the pitch. For a moment, fear paralyses you, the sight of the divided pitch a stark representation of how quickly fate can turn.

“Alicia?!” your voice cracks as you call out, the fear of loss more suffocating than the smoke as you shield your face from the burning embers, looking for her in the darkness.

“I’m here!” You can’t see her. And you’ve got no idea where your brooms are. “I’m okay!” she calls.

“Alicia? Cormac? Captain?” It’s Katie Bell’s voice from the same side as Alicia.

“Yaxley! There’s more here!” says a man’s voice behind you.

You and McLaggen whirl around to see more Death Eaters on your side of the pitch.

“Get back to the castle! Tell the others!” yells McLaggen to Katie and you both start sprinting towards the entrance to the Quidditch pitch, in the direction of the castle, hearing the Death Eaters shouting spells at you as you run for your lives. With an awful pang of guilt, you realise you lost your broom in all of the confusion. By now it’s probably reduced to nothing but firewood.

You point McLaggen’s dad’s wand over your head at the stands above. “Bombarda!” With an echoing snap, more burning wood begins to crash and fall.

You run as fast as you can, each step a gamble as you weave through the deadly rain of debris. The screams behind you tell you at least some of the Death Eaters aren’t so lucky. A chunk of wood plummets into the sand at the edge of the pitch with such ferocity, it reminds you of a speeding bludger. Then with a start, a memory from a lifetime ago flashes to the surface of your mind. A memory of a game you watched long ago in these very stands, watching Potter being chased by a bludger around the pitch with such targeted ferocity it broke his arm.

An enchanted bludger.

Just as you and McLaggen run through the entrance to the pitch, you grab his hand and drag him sideways.

“This way!”

“Wha - where?!”

“Hooch’s office!”

McLaggen doesn’t ask any more questions as you race towards the office on the outskirts of the pitch.

You barge through the door and lock it behind you.

The room is undisturbed. It looks exactly how you remember with the cabinet full of spare brooms and cases upon cases of spare Quidditch equipment.

“What are we-?”

“Cormac, do you remember that game back in our third year when Potter had that bludger chasing him and only him? And it broke his arm?” you ask urgently, as you start opening crates, frantically looking for the ones with the training bludgers.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to recreate it.”

“We’re gonna get a bludger to attack the Death Eaters?”

“Not just one…” You find the heavy crate you’re looking for in the corner of the room and open it with a heaving grunt. Twenty bludgers strain against their straps. “And they need to be enchanted so they only attack the Death Eaters. Just like that time with Potter. They’ll be damn near impossible to stop with a wand. They’re too fast to get a good aim at.”

“You - you know how to do it?”

“Not me. You.” You look up from the crate. McLaggen’s face is smeared with soot and there are holes burned by embers on his t-shirt. His hair is wilder than you’ve ever seen it. He runs two hands through it in that stressed-out way he does sometimes.

“I don’t know how either!”

“You worked out how to extend the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm on your own,” you remind him.

“That took almost a week. And Carmichael helped.”

“Now’s not the time for your newfound modesty to make an appearance, McLaggen.” You throw open the broom cabinet and grab one of the spare school brooms. “I can buy you ten minutes.”

“No -” He tries to take the broom from you but you grasp it tight. “No way. You’re not holding them off. I’ll do it. I’m better at duelling -”

Of course, he wants to. But it’s time for you to take a leaf out of McLaggen’s book. It’s time to be brave.

“You’re better at duelling but I’m better at flying,” you say firmly, not quite believing you’re about to go back out there and face the Death Eaters on your own. “I’ll distract them and if I’m quick I might be able to stop them following the others back to the castle.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

You drop your broom and put both hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes.

“McLaggen, you’re ten times the wizard any of those Death Eaters are. But if you can’t -” You pause thinking about the last time you gave him a pep talk before Gryffindor played Hufflepuff. “If you can’t do this - that’s okay too. Just get back to the castle. Alive. Please.”

“And you?”

“I’m not going back to Azkaban, Cormac!” The words fly out more hysterically than you’d intended. “I either do this or die trying. I won’t let them take me. I’d rather die than go back.”

“Okay,” he says simply, taking your face in his hands. You don’t even realise you’re crying until McLaggen wipes away a tear from your cheekbone. “Okay.”

Cormac pulls you close and kisses you.

Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Ten minutes.”

Chapter 19: Quidditch

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana, @evabellasworld, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @xyzstar, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma #deathly hallows #harry potter and the deathly hallows #cormac mclaggen fic #cormac mclaggen fanfic #mclaggen x reader #mclaggen x female reader

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dhr-ao3 · 2 months

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The Dark Little Gryffindor

The Dark Little Gryffindor https://ift.tt/xdJ4ZBM by Princess_slytherin22 Hermione didn't expect her whole life to be a lie. But it is. When she's told that not only was she adopted when she was a baby, by the two people she always called mum and dad but the fact that she was a pureblood witch this entire time. And Harry knew along with the others who she really was and who her true family was. That angers her to no end and she turns her back on them when she finds out she's secretly the twin sister to no one other than Theodore Nott. But she can't tell them yet. Not until she fulfills her vow to Narcissa Malfoy to protect Draco and help him with his task in secret. Draco discovers someone has been helping him with the vanishing cabinet and he thinks he's losing his mind that the cabinet is getting fixed a little faster than he anticipated. Until he sees her one day in the R.O.R fixing it. Just like he was doing. Words: 3875, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Lavender Brown, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Horace Slughorn, Minerva McGonagall, Katie Bell, Leanne (Harry Potter), Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Nott Sr. (Harry Potter) Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Astoria Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass/Ernie Macmillan Additional Tags: Pureblood Hermione Granger, Character Death, Dark Hermione Granger, POV Draco Malfoy, Lies, Fluff and Smut, Slow Burn, POV Hermione Granger, POV Theodore Nott, BAMF Hermione Granger, Protective Draco Malfoy, Top Draco Malfoy, Falling In Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst and Feels, Family Secrets, Secrets, Enemies to Lovers, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, Mentor Severus Snape, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Sex, Oral Sex, Dark Magic, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter), Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eater Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger is So Done, Hermione Granger is Not Okay, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy is Good at Sex, Virgin Hermione Granger, Brother-Sister Relationships, Community: Dramione FanFiction Forum, Facebook: Dramione Fanfiction Writers via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/nAYeVlW March 21, 2024 at 10:15PM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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aletterinthenameofsanity · 1 year

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when we are loved we are afraid (we were never meant to survive) (Room of Requirement as sanctuary)

The effects of trauma are tricky to navigate. Relationships fall apart, old beliefs are turned over, secrets are shoved deep behind lips, habits are formed, silences are developed.

The thing is: if anyone had been looking, truly looking, they would have noticed. The bruises were decently hidden, but the psychological scars significantly less so. Comments were made on a regular basis that gave away what was happening. (My letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. There were bars on my window.) The victim showed up to school every year skinnier than he'd left.

The signs were there. They were easily seen.

But who ever would have suspected the Boy Who Lived to be the victim of child abuse? Who ever would have expected that the Golden Boy, who won Quidditch matches and defeated Voldemort and shoveled down pumpkin juice and laughed in Hogsmeade, could possibly have anything but the most loving of homes?

The only people who ever notice are the victims of similar kinds of abuse, similar kinds of trauma- the only ones who realize that it doesn't matter how happy a person pretends to be, that the most perfect of facades can be hiding the most broken of people.

An envelope shows up on Harry's bed the second Thursday evening of his third year, right after Harry's gotten back from dinner. He's always a bit more tried the first couple of weeks back from the Dursleys than he is the rest of the school year.

After reading, Harry follows the instructions laid out on the letter, heading up to the seventh floor that Thursday evening and pacing in front of the wall. He steps through the door and enters into a room that doesn't seem too magical or fancy. There are beanbags laying over the floor and mats sitting on mats and blankets, magical lights dangling from the ceiling illuminating a room filled with laughter and games and easy gossip.

Harry hadn't believed it when he'd read the letter, but here in front of him he finds a variety of faces he never would have expected to be willing to hang out together. Draco Malfoy. Percy Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Pansy Parkinson. Lisa Turpin. Terry Boot. Leanne Rosenthal. A pair of Slytherin girls in their fifth or sixth years and some Ravenclaw firstie that Harry doesn't know the name of but that won't meet anyone's eyes. Cedric fucking Diggory.

"Merlin's balls," he swears quietly under his breath as Pansy, Draco, and Percy look up when he enters the room. "I didn't expect this many people."

"To what?" Draco drawls casually, though his suspicious gaze flicks over Harry as Draco stands up to greet him. Draco's wearing pjs that make him look far more vulnerable than Harry ever could have imagined the Malfoy heir was capable of. "This many people to what, Potter?"

"Be here," Harry says, and swallows. "Your letter said that this place was for victims of..." He can barely think the word 'abuse,' because that wasn't what happened to him. The Dursleys were just afraid of him and his freakishness and were just trying to keep him normal.

His conflict must show on his face, as Percy gives him a sympathetic look. "There are many different kinds of abuse, Harry. Not everything is physical. It can be psychological, verbal, emotional, sexual, financial, neglect, all kinds. You know my parents never beat me, after all, but that doesn't mean that they didn't emotionally isolate me from my siblings and neglect me on a systematic basis."

"This is a safe space, Potter," Pansy says, voice softer than he's ever heard it before. "No one gets in here without our permission."

"C'mon, Potter," Draco says, gesturing to the seat next to him as he squats back down onto the beanbag he had been sitting on when Harry entered the room. "Join us over here."

Harry looks at the boy who has bullied him for years, the boy who says my father will hear about this with the same shake in his voice that Harry has when he talks about going "home" to the Dursleys, and he sits down on a pillow next to Draco Malfoy of all people, causing the last of the kids Draco, Percy, and Pansy were sitting with- Cedric Diggory- to glance up at him.

"I don't get why I was invited," Harry says, trying to regain his voice, trying to make sense of things. "I'm not that. I was never beaten or anything."

"Didn't you listen to Weasley, Potter?" Draco says, "You didn't have to be beaten to end up here." His gaze falls to Harry's neck, to a long-faded scar that wasn't caused by the blowback of a Killing Curse but rather by more mundane means. His voice is surprisingly sympathetic as he adds: "Though, to be honest, I don't think you got out entirely unscathed, did you?"

Harry swallows, gaze dropping to the floor between the four students' legs. He thinks about bars on windows and thrown plates and burning his hands on the stove when he was told to cook for the Dursleys at age five and getting locked in his room and starving because he'd fucked up and being forced to do every chore in the house and the garden. "No," he admits quietly, "I don't think I did."

"Welcome to the Sanctuary, Potter," Cedric says with a welcoming smile. "I think you'll fit in here just fine."

Over the course of regular Thursday night meetings, Harry learns everyone's stories slowly, though rarely through direct questions. The stories come slowly during the courses of games and gossip, casual discussions over midnight snacks and in the aftermath of nightmares.

He learns that Terry's parents often employed starvation as a punishment technique for him after a conversation devolves over snacks. He learns that Leanne's mother locks her in closets as punishment after Draco makes a joke about Seven Minutes in Heaven. He learns about how Lisa and Cedric's fathers both pushed them into careers or betrothals that they didn't want to go in, using threats of disowning them from the family if Lisa and Cedric didn't do exactly what they were told.

He learns that abuse is not just families. He learns about how Professor Snape's verbal and psychological abuse has utterly destroyed the mental health (a word he learned from Terry, a muggleborn whose best friend's mother was a social worker) of Neville and that Ravenclaw firstie, who it turns out is named Georgie.

And, of course, there are the kids who are physically abused by their families.

"My father's trying to force me into following after him into the Dark Arts," Draco admits one evening in the middle of a game of Monopoly- a game that Harry foolishly introduced to the Slytherins without thinking through the consequences. Now the game gets played at least once a week, with the Slytherins trying their best to destroy everyone, with only Harry and Lisa really putting up a good fight against them. "When I refuse, he uses the Cruciatus Curse on me to try to get me to fold to his whims."

Neville puts a comforting hand on Draco's crossed knee while Pansy whistles in sympathy. "Same here with my Aunt, Dray," she says, rolling the dice with her other hand. "Fuck yeah, a three!" she crows, moving her piece- the top hat- the spaces forward to land on Park Place. She gleefully hands the required money over to the banker, Percy, as everyone else groans. "I've got a fucking Monopoly, bitches!"

And that's something else that Harry gets out of this, too. These meetings aren't just the most horrible show-and-tell that Harry's ever been a part of. They're also safe spaces where Harry knows he is among people who understand why he flinches when people move too fast or why he doesn't eat as much as anyone else right after they get back from summer break. They're places where he can let down his guard for the first time since he can remember, make jokes about trauma with people who understand what he went through. They're times where there are pranks and games and gossip sessions or magical practice and all of it feels normal because it's with people who don't judge him, who are willing to just sit with him and understand him.

For the first time in Harry's life his bones feel settled in his own skin. The process of filling out his body again, going from starving to eating enough, from being afraid to be alone with people to feeling at home again, doesn't take as long as usual. These people- they understand him. They understand how hard it is for his brain to settle in the feeling of safety. They don't judge him for his mental issues and so he feels okay here with them, being who he is, in a way that he's never gotten before.

Through all of these reveals, as these broken kids learn to trust him as they have come to trust each other, Harry learns how to help other people through the after effects of all of these kinds of abuse. Percy teaches him how to help kids through panic attacks after Lisa has a minor breakdown after someone accidentally uses one of her trigger words. He learns first aid from Terry and Leanne, both of whom have had to learn it themselves to take care of injuries both for the others and for themselves.

Sure, all of this isn't stopping the abuse. There's no way for a bunch of kids to stand up to their families and professors and hope to survive.

But this is comfort. This is understanding.

And for now, for Harry, age thirteen, finding a home for the first time in his life- this is enough.

Ron asks Harry where he keeps disappearing to when he gets back from his fourth meeting.

"I've just made a few new mates, that's all," Harry says, not lying one bit. "People who I share some interests with." He winks at Ron and Hermione, feeling a newborn confidence that he never did before. "Don't worry, I'm not abandoning you two as my best mates, don't worry."

Ron snorts. "Not bloody likely, mate." Then he smiles at Harry, and he seems genuinely happy for Harry. "I'm glad for you, anyway. You look a lot happier than you used to. A lot more content."

Hermione nods, a similar smile on her lips. "Is it because of Professor Lupin? I'm sure that that would plenty distracting from the whole Sirius Black thing."

Shit, the whole Sirius Black thing- Harry had nearly forgotten over the course of the past few weeks. "Nah," he says, "I think it's because of these new mates."

"Can we meet them sometime?" Ron asks, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe get to know you a little better through them?"

"Someday soon, I promise," Harry says, "Whenever they're ready."

"Cool," Ron says, "Now, wanna play Exploding Snap?"

"We've got a Potions Essay to finish, Ronald!" Hermione admonishes, and Ron shrugs.

"We've got plenty of time to finish that later, 'Mione," Ron says as Harry slumps back into the couch behind him, a smile spreading over his lips. Ron and Hermione are just as much of a comfort in their normality as the Sanctuary kids are in the abnormality- he knows he couldn't have survived the past few years without his best friends, nor would he have wanted to.

Harry understands rather well why no one has changed how they interact with him outside of meetings. He understands punishment and consequences and doing anything possible to avoid risks all too well. He understands why Draco still spits scarhead without flinching, despite the nights where Harry has gleefully duelled Draco in Monopoly, understands Pansy's outer disdain despite the nights he's braided her hair for her, understands why Erika and Kendall, the fifth year Slytherin girls, still make fun of him despite the time he let them practice their nail-polish techniques on him.

They're all just children. They don't have the power to stand up for themselves. They are subject to the wills of family members and teachers and authority figures, helpless to do anything to defend themselves save trying to prevent the abuse in the first place. They are being made to fight in wars they don't understand, don't really know enough about to make educated decisions in.

For now, this is the world that they are left with, and this is what they have to do to survive. So they continue on with what they are given, and they make their sanctuary together on Thursday nights.

"Is there something wrong with me for liking boys?" Harry asks one Thursday night when his head is laying on Draco's thigh. Tonight several people are feeling worn out by various papers and tests that are assigned for the week, as well as some rather intense Quidditch practices leading up to the Slytherin/Gryffindor game as well as the increased presence of Dementors (never a good thing for people with memories as bad as theirs), and so they're not playing games. Instead the floor of the Room has turned into a giant fucking mattress, pillows and sheets and stuffed animals scattered around the room. Harry's pretty sure that several of these stuffed animals and blankets are comfort items for the students around him, considering how hard people are clinging to them.

"Of course not, Harry," Erika says with a snort. "If there was, half of us would be in trouble."

"Really?" Harry asks, and Cedric nods.

"I'm bisexual- that means I'm into girls and guys. Pansy's gay. So's Draco. Terry is asexual- he isn't into anyone- and Erika and Kendall are dating."

"My parents will never know about me until I'm graduated and have taken control of the family vaults, though," Erika says, and Kendall nods.

"You don't even want to know what my parents are threatening if I ever come out," Kendall says with a shudder.

"But just because our families will react badly doesn't mean that it's wrong," Draco says, running his fingers through Harry's hair in a caring sort of way that Harry's never had anyone treat him like before.

The first time Harry interacts with someone outside of the Room meetings that he doesn't normally is when he bumps into Pansy in the hallway right before Halloween. There's no one else here in the hallway outside of the Astronomy Tower, and thus she gives him a small smile. "You ready for the Samhain party we're having next week?"

"We're having a party next week?" He asks, and she nods.

"No plus ones allowed," she says, expression almost apologetic. "Can't violate the sanctuary of the group. But Leanne, Erika, Terry, and I are in charge and so it's gonna be fucking awesome anyway."

Harry lets out a soft snort. "Malfoy not in charge?"

Something passes over Pansy's expression. "He's got some other shit that his father's making him do right now, so he's a bit busy. But you're in, right?"

"Fuck yeah," Harry says. "Just gotta cross our fingers that things don't go to shit this Halloween."

Pansy snorts. "That's the dream, Potter."

The party goes off without a hitch and then, the week after Halloween, Professor Lupin drags out the Boggart and Neville, Draco, and Pansy are in Harry's DADA class and he is so fucking scared of what might get exposed during class, not just on his behalf but on theirs too.

And he's right to- when Neville's Boggart turns into Professor Snape, Professor Lupin's face goes white. He Riddikuluses the Boggart, turning it into a moon and then into a leaking balloon, before turning to the kids with a smile that Harry is all too familiar with, a smile that is clearly hiding some sort of sadness.

Professor Lupin then proceeds to hold Neville back after class, claiming to need to speak to him, and Harry makes excuses to Hermione and Ron as to why he has to hang back, too. Harry's not surprised to find Pansy and Draco staying by their desks, either, apathetic expressions on their faces but spines straight as rods. All three of them know why Neville's Boggart is Professor Snape, and they want to make sure that he has support by his side while Professor Lupin questions him.

Thankfully, though, when Professor Lupin sees Harry, Draco, and Pansy hanging by Neville's side as he enters the office, he doesn't ask any questions of them. Instead, he offers them all chocolate- which all of them save Draco take.

"Why was your boggart one of your professors, Neville?" the Professor then asks, and his expression is sympathetic but none of the four children in front of him can entirely trust him. Their entire lives have been spent either being ignored by adults who promised to help or being outright accused of lying by adults who they thought cared.

Neville, despite being the most easily trusting of the four of them, is still somewhat suspicious of Professor Lupin. They've all been screwed over by supposedly trustworthy adults in the past and they're not easy to trust Professor Lupin just because he's been fun and informative in class.

But Neville was not sorted into Gryffindor for no reason. "Because he's verbally abusive, sir," he says, spine straighter than the others have ever seen it before despite his fear of Professor Snape.

"Yeah," Harry adds, jumping in, ready to fall next to Neville if Professor Lupin lets them down. "He's constantly insulting all of us and calling Neville useless and telling us that we'll never be able to amount to anything in life."

"Dear Lord," Professor Lupin says, voice a bit worried. "Have you told the Headmaster about this?"

"Dumbledore doesn't care, Professor," Draco spits, posture far less at ease than it is during meetings, when he lets others slump over him and use his lap as a pillow. "Plenty of us have let him know about shit like this."

Harry nods. "We've complained about Snape for years and he hasn't done anything about it."

Professor Lupin, to Harry's surprise, doesn't flinch at the curse word, his expression only growing more concerned. "He hasn't?"

They all shake their heads and Professor Lupin's expression hardens. "I know I can't do much, considering how new I am," Professor Lupin says, "But I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall and a few others and see if I can't do something about this. Severus should never have been allowed to terrify children to the point of making him their Boggarts."

Harry blinks and glances at the other three students, all of which have bewildered expressions on their faces. None of them expected this. Professor Lupin, right now, is doing the impossible, something Harry never thought he'd ever see- he's being an adult who's actually willing to listen, an adult who promises to try and make a change, who thinks that there is something wrong with children getting hurt.

"When you talk to Professor McGonagall," Harry dares to venture, feeling some of that Gryffindor courage that he's always been told he's supposed to have, "Can you also tell her about some other stuff, too?"

"Like what, Harry?" Professor Lupin asks, and Neville jumps in.

"Like the fact that Professor Dumbledore let all of this go by," he says.

"That Dumbledore's been endangering kids for years," Pansy adds, having heard all of Harry's stories of the past two years.

"That Lockhart nearly obliviated two kids and Dumbledore did jackshit about it," Draco adds, and though Professor Lupin raises an eyebrow at Draco's profanity he doesn't comment on it, instead just nodding.

"I'll tell her about all of this," Professor Lupin says, then gestures to the door. "I will definitely keep you kids updated, but it will take some time and I do believe that you four need to go to Charms next?"

They all nod, grabbing for their books and heading for the door, eager to be out of this awkward and emotion conversation, but Pansy halts at the door.

"Professor?" Pansy asks, and her tone is curious but soft in a way that it never gets outside of the Room.

"Yes, Miss Parkinson?"

"How did you know that there was something wrong when Professor Snape was Longbottom's Boggart?"

Professor Lupin gives Pansy a smile that speaks to something sad and pained and achingly familiar to the four kids. "Because years ago I had a Professor like that," he says, "A man who took issue with who I was and refused to treat me like a human- much less a child- because of it. I had friends, thankfully, who took care of me, just like you four, but it wasn't easy." He looks to each of them, some measure of pride in his gaze. "You four- you're rather lucky to have such good friends to protect each other like that."

"We know, Professor," Harry says, giving Neville, Draco, and Pansy each a smile that they return with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Good," Professor Lupin says, then grins at them as he gestures again. "Now, get to your next class! Can't have you late on my behalf!"

So this is how a war begins to end before it starts, by kindness and care being planted in the smallest of places, in the smallest of ways: an adult refusing to overlook abuse and standing his ground to make things better.

Dumbledore gets fired by the Board and replaced by Professor McGonagall, who fires Severus Snape and replaces him with Andromeda Tonks. Professor Tonks is a decently strict teacher but still treats all houses with fairness and respect, not tolerating shenanigans in her classroom but being patient with questions and helping those lagging behind rather than yelling at them. Despite not being the most entertaining of Professors, she still finds herself ranked rather highly by students by the end of the term.

When Sirius Black shows up, there is no Snape to fuck things up. Professor Lupin has taken his wolfsbane and thus when Peter Pettigrew is captured, no time turner needs to be used. Peter Pettigrew goes to trial and Sirius is cleared of all bogus charges, proceeding to then take his place as Lord of the House of Black.

Harry gets to go to live with Sirius at the end of the year, Sirius uses his power as the Head of the House of Black to name Draco his heir- a move which supercedes Draco's title as Heir Malfoy and necessitates Draco move to the Black Family Manor in order to "complete the necessary preparations to become heir." Draco arrives at the Manor with a sob of thanks for Sirius, dropping his perfect Malfoy facade long enough to gasp his gratitude.

Sirius then proceeds to adopt Georgie, Leanne, and Terry from their muggle homes, thus giving Draco a set of cousins and Harry some adoptive siblings. The five of them spend the summer running wild over the Black estate, alternating politics and etiquette lessons with therapy sessions and the best prank wars that have been seen since the days of the Marauders themselves.

As for the children still stuck in the Wizarding World- Sirius uses the Black family's considerable political and economic power to help nudge the Ministry into opening investigations against the families of the Sanctuary kids. Some of them work quicker than others, such as the one against Erika's parents, who only had the flimsiest of excuses as to their involvement with Voldemort in the First Wizarding War, while others drag on. Whatever the results, though, at least the investigations have been opened and thus the Sanctuary kids have some measure of protection and safety for the first time in their lives.

Over the course of the summer, plenty of friends visit. Hermione and Ron visit and get along well with everyone, even Draco. Blaise Zabini arrives and instantly becomes plenty of Sanctuary kids' new best friend as he brings Italian chocolates with him.

And, of course, there's the fact that the kids' favorite Professor visits on a regular basis, rekindling an old romance with Sirius- a fact that all of the kids cheer on (and tease Sirius for the way he blushes like a teenager whenever Remus sends an owl).

When Hogwarts starts back up that September, several of the members of the Sanctuary have found themselves a new family with adults that they, for the first time in their lives, actually trust.

Mad-Eye Moody hasn't been hired to be the DADA professor- Remus is still there, with a kind eye on the Sanctuary kids and a wise smile for everyone. The Triwizard Tournament goes off without a hitch, with the newest ward of the Black family, Cedric Diggory, as Hogwarts' champion. All of the Sanctuary kids are in the audience to cheer him on and they're also there to tease him as he practices dancing for the Yule Ball in the Room, all of the Sanctuary kids dancing with him.

When it comes to the Yule Ball and who goes with who, Cedric takes his long-term crush in Cho Chang. Erika takes Kendall, Neville asks Ginny, Pansy takes Daphne Greengrass, Terry takes Georgie just so the second year can experience the Yule Ball, Percy arrives from his new Ministry job with Auror Tonks as his date, Leanne goes to the Ball with Fred Weasley, and, well-

Draco Black, Heir to the Noble House of Black, shows up with the Boy Who Lived on his arm, and by the end of the night the press have caught a photo of Draco giving Harry a kiss on the cheek on his way to grabbing the two of them refreshments. The press catch further photos of Draco laughing with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, of him dancing with Harry in the middle of the dance floor, of him with the biggest smile on his face as he talks to Erika, Percy, and Kendall.

The world gets to see Draco Black genuinely happy in public for the first time in his life and it is wonderful.

Things aren't perfect. There are still nightmares and trauma and there will be probably for the rest of their lives. The Sanctuary kids, even after getting out of the households they were stuck in, still need therapy for years afterward and sometimes find themselves falling into old, toxic patterns and habits.

But to this day, the Room still operates for kids who have need of it. Sirius Black still pours Black family funds into investigating abuse and eventually opening up a Home for Abused Children.

And the Sanctuary kids, even long after they're no longer children anymore, will still be a home for those who need one.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23022976