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7s3ven · 4 months

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LAST CHRISTMAS. tom riddle

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t be able to fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

Minor warnings : Not proof-read, kind of long, dark Tom Riddle, somewhat yandere

—

“It may be hard to believe, but there was a time where Voldemort loved someone. He was young… barely eighteen. He loved her so much… that he would kill for her. So he did. He killed every boy interested in her and every girl who tormented her. And then he turned on her. Nobody knows what happened to sweet Y/N L/N. Maybe he killed her, maybe she got away… or maybe she stayed with him and let him taint her heart.

He was a boy who knew nothing of real love while she was a girl who wanted nothing but that.”

Tom couldn’t fall in love. He physically shouldn’t be able to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself to fall in love. He would not allow himself that wretched moment of weakness his peers all seemed to suffer from.

Every day it was always, “Riddle, will you go out with me?” His answer was always no yet these lovesick girls never learned. They all flocked to him like annoying seagulls to a single, lonely chip.

“Excuse me,” A hand suddenly tapped Tom’s shoulder. He turned around, almost glowering at the girl in front of him. Before he could reject her, she spoke up. “You, uh, left this, Riddle.”

Of course, she knew his name but he didn’t know her’s.

She held out Tom’s precious diary and he was quick to snatch it out of her grip. He observed it, narrowing his eyes slightly before he subtly nodded. “Thank… you…” The words felt strange rolling off his tongue. He had never thanked anybody. He hesitated because he didn’t know her name.

“Y/N L/N.” She uttered, smiling.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N L/N. You seemed confused… so I thought you didn’t know me.”

Tom’s eyes flickered to the prefect badge pinned proudly to her robe. He arched an eyebrow. “You… you’re a prefect?” He questioned. He had never seen her at the meetings, which was strange because he noticed everyone.

“Yeah. Head girl.” Y/N beamed again, hardly offended by the fact that Tom didn’t know her despite them being counterparts.

Tom found it strange how he didn’t know her. He was supposed to considering she was the head girl. Tom observed her, staring at Y/N’s Hufflepuff uniform and the yellow ribbons intertwined with her braided hair.

“Right.” Tom muttered, clearing his throat.

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Riddle. I’ll see you around.” Y/N was the first to walk away. Tom wasn’t used to that because normally, he did that. He stared at Y/N’s back, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Everybody was frightened by Tom’s cold demeanour, but not Y/N. She had approached him so casually without a second thought.

Tom shook his head, sighing under his breath. “Hufflepuffs.”

The next time Tom stumbled upon Y/N was when she had been cornered by three Slytherin girls. He recognized the ringleader as the girl he had rejected last week.

“Stay away from Tom.” The silver-haired girl grumbled, invading Y/N’s personal space. Y/N didn’t seem at all phased. She just smiled as she stared into the girl’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Y/N questioned, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Just stay away from Tom, got it?” The Slytherin girl repeated, her glare hardening.

Tom cleared his throat from behind the trio, making his presence known. “Is there a problem here?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

The trio of Slytherin girls instantly recognized his voice. “Riddle!” The ringleader exclaimed, jumping. She nervously smiled. “We were just helping L/N here. She needed help with… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes wildly darting around.

“Her makeup!” One of her friends piped up, “She likes a boy and wanted our help!”

The third girl quickly nodded and grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, pushing her forward. “Isn’t she pretty? Imagine how pretty she would be with makeup!”

Tom’s stare hardened. He glanced down at Y/N, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s pretty enough as is.” He spoke, reaching out to grasp a strand of Y/N’s hair. “Well, I’ll be needing her. Prefect business, you understand?” Tom ripped Y/N from the girl’s grasp and led her down the long, winding hallway.

“Do you always have to deal with those pests?” Tom questioned, looking at Y/N once more.

“They aren’t that bad. They were worse in first year.” She smiled but that didn’t comfort Tom.

“You shouldn’t let them push you around. I’ll talk to them and make sure they never bother you again.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N uttered, but Tom didn’t hear her. He was already walking off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Y/N frowned. “I hope he doesn’t kill them… he looks like the type.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t murder anybody. He’s the head boy.” She walked off in the opposite direction, quietly humming under her breath, unknown to the horrors Tom was committing with his damn pet snake.

Y/N strutted into the Great Hall, ready to eat dinner and gossip about useless things with her friends. But when she approached her companions, she was overwhelmed with their questions.

“Y/N, did you hear about the attacks?”

“I heard those three Slytherin bullies were targeted.”

“Well, they kind of deserved it. It’s not like they’re fully dead. They’re just stone.”

Y/N sat down, confused. “What happened?” And asked, tilting her head to the side.

Bella was the first to explain. “You know those three Slytherin girls who are always picking on you? They were all found turned to stone.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening before she leaned forward and whispered, “The professors say it wasn’t a hex so they don’t really know what to do.”

“Oh… that’s…” Y/N couldn’t muster up any words. She glanced over at Tom, who was drinking out of his golden goblet. He locked eyes with her and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Did they find the perpetrator?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bella.

“No. I heard a few students talking about some sort of chamber but I wasn’t close enough to hear anything else.”

For the rest of dinner, Y/N was distracted by the way Tom kept glancing over at her. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that Tom played no part in this whole mess.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Y/N stiffly smiled as she drank the last of her water from her cup.

Y/N quickly stood up, speed-walking out of hall. She heard someone following her and she spun around, hoping it wasn’t Tom. Luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a Gryffindor boy with messy black hair and stunning blue eyes. He grinned at her. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Listen, I’ve been interested in you for a while and I don’t want you to feel inclined to accepting my offer, but I would love if you would come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Ah, sorry, I’m a little busy. Maybe next time?” She suggested, trying to brush past the boy. But he grasped her wrist

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“You heard her the first time. She’s busy.” Tom had walked to stand behind the boy, towering over him with a mean glare.

“Right.” The Gryffindor thickly swallowed, “I’ll be on my way, then.” He scurried off, almost tripping over his robes.

“You didn’t have to scare him off.” Y/N murmured as she spared Tom a look before resuming her walk to the Hufflepuff common room. Tom followed after her, which unsettled Y/N.

She should have been placed in Gryffindor with how brave she was to eventually confront Tom. “What did you do with those Slytherin girls?” She softly inquired.

She heard Tom chuckle. “I didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

“It’s a bit hard to trust you when you smirked at me like that.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I never touched those girls. I merely gave them a warning before leaving them. And next thing I know, they were turned to stone. Some Ravenclaw first year found them.”

Y/N stared into Tom’s eyes, looking for any indication that he was lying. It was a bit hard to read him considering he barely had any emotions. But there was a gleam in his usually blank eyes.

“Okay.” She whispered, despite not fully believing him.

Tom had ended up walking Y/N to her common room and she politely nodded. “Good night, Riddle.”

“Call me Tom. Good night, Y/N.”

Rowan, the poor Gryffindor boy who had asked Y/N out, was the next target. Though, he wasn’t found turned to stone. His body was entirely mutilated and Y/N took pity on the third year girl who had discovered his body in the bathroom.

Y/N sat with Bella, pushing her food around on her silver plate. On instinct, she glanced at Tom. He had that same infuriating smirk and this time, he slightly raised his goblet. His actions made his friends laugh.

“I’m leaving for class early. See you at lunch, Bella.”

Her friend hummed, too busy staring at a boy from across the room to notice Y/N’s uneasiness.

Y/N stiffened as she saw Tom stand up out of the corner of her eye. She tried to speed walk away but he easily caught up to her.

“What did you do do him?” She asked, referring to Rowan. He had no enemies and Tom was the only person Y/N could think of. After all, the head boy hadn’t seemed too pleased to see Y/N talking with Rowan.

“Accusing me again? There’s an actual murderer on the loose and instead, you’re pointing fingers at me?” Tom let out a small scoff while Y/N silently stared up at him. “I’m head boy. Do you really think I would decapitate a body?”

“Nobody said anything about the body being decapitated.”

“I saw it. As head boy, I was at the scene.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes while Tom mentally cursed at his mistake. Hufflepuffs were usually easy to gaslight, but not Y/N. And that annoyed Tom.

“They’re still observing the body but I wouldn’t be walking alone if I were you. This attacker seems to be targeting people who are,” Tom took a step closer to Y/N, “All alone.”

Tom cunningly grinned as he shrugged. “Enjoy your walk, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t want to take any chances with Tom since he was her prime suspect. But if he was the murderer, why wasn’t she his next victim? She was alone and the castle was deserted. Now would be the perfect time.

Tom chuckled as the cogs in Y/N’s head started moving. He was going to strut away from the Hufflepuff but Y/N was quick to grab his sleeve.

“Walk me to class.” She demanded. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt his cheeks heat up. And strange enough, he felt a jolt of lightning pass through his body when Y/N’s grasped him.

He concealed those odd emotions. “With pleasure.”

Potions was their first class. Usually, Gryffindors and Slytherins were put together but this year the school decided to mix it up. Classes were now decided on a student’s academic record. And lucky for Tom, all of his courses were with Y/N. Never had he been so glad that one of his peers had almost beaten him for the spot of top student.

Y/N tried to sit away from Tom but he dragged her to a table near his friends. She nervously sat down, tapping her foot against the floor.

She could feel someone burning holes into her back with their glare and Y/N looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with a Ravenclaw girl. She sneered at Y/N.

The H/C-haired teenager slowly turned her head to look at her textbook, but her peace was short lived when a cauldron came crashing down on her head.

It hit her with such force that her head jolted forward and slammed against the wooden table. A sickening crack was heard and the class went silent.

Tom and his friends were the first to react. Avery lifted Y/N and helped her sit up. Her nose was heavily bleeding and the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin, staining the pages of her new and crisp book.

Malfoy held his hands underneath her chin to catch most of the blood while Avery dapped at Y/N’s nose with the sleeve of his robe.

Rosier grabbed the cauldron, slamming it back down in front of the Ravenclaw. At that very moment, Professor Slughorn entered.

He observed the bizarre scene, effortlessly piecing everything together. “Tom, my boy, please escort Miss L/N to the hospital wing. You may bring Mr Avery and Mr Malfoy with you. Rosier, Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, I want a full explanation of what happened.” Slughorn turned to the Ravenclaw, “Miss Li, I will also require your explanation.”

Hyehi Li, the girl who had thrown the cauldron at Y/N’s head, was gone. She was found by the Ravenclaw Quidditch up on the roof, impaled onto a sharp spear. The students of Hogwarts were growing restless. Parents wanted to collect their kids but the murderer could be anybody, staff or student. Therefore, it was imperative that the professors worked fast to track the attacker down.

Y/N sat in her dorm, thinking to herself. All of the people attacked were connected to her. The three Slytherin girls had bullied her, Rowan had somewhat flirted with her, and Hyehi had injured Y/N. And Tom was there to witness all three incidents.

There wasn’t anybody else who could be doing these things. Y/N was also aware of Tom’s fascination with the dark arts.

It was Christmas Eve and since the school couldn’t technically hold the students in the castle over the holiday, they had no choice but to let them go.

Y/N’s parents were on a trip right now, so she had to stay behind. Not many students wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but Y/N knew Tom and his posse would be roaming the halls.

She was nervous to walk out of the common room, but she was hungry, even at this time when it was close to midnight, and the kitchen was so close.

“L/N!” A voice Y/N didn’t recognize suddenly called out. She turned around, watching a Slytherin boy jog towards her. She recognized him as a year below her.

“Ah… you shouldn’t be talking to me, it’s not safe.” Y/N had come to the conclusion that any boy or girl who teased or flirted with her was in serious trouble if Tom ever found in.

“Why? I just wanted to say happy Christmas Eve. And thanks for helping me with my homework this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Y/N stiffly smiled and nodded her head. “You’re welcome. Good bye.” Y/N wanted to leave but the boy blocked her path.

“Do you have anybody to celebrate Christmas with? You’re always welcome in the Slytherin common room. Riddle seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Speak of the devil, Y/N could hear Avery’s loud laughs from just around the corner. And where Avery was, Tom and his friends were sure to follow.

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened. “Please leave me alone… for your sake.” She whispered, trying to brush past him. But the boy didn’t seem to sense the urgency in Y/N’s voice as he grabbed her shoulder just as Tom came into sight.

A feeling of dread overcame Y/N as Tom approached the pair. “Onyx.” He greeted the boy by the last name. “What business do you have with Y/N?”

Onyx, as oblivious as ever, smiled. “I was just thanking her for helping me. And I was going to invite her to spend Christmas in the Slytherin chamber.”

Tom narrowed his eyes as he slowly nodded. “… I see. We’ll have to finish decorating the tree then. Come on.” Tom guided Onyx with a firm hand on his back. Y/N’s breath trembled and finally having had enough of being connected to all the murders, she silently followed Tom and his friends and Onyx.

There was a loud bang and as Y/N peeked around the corner, she almost gasped. Avery, the supposed sweet boy who had helped her with her bloody nose, had just knocked Onyx out cold.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have some matters to attend to.” Tom pulled out his wand, pointing the tip at Onyx. “Avada Kedavra.” There was a blinding flash of green light and then all was still.

Y/N stumbled back. She quickly sprinted off, making sure to be quiet and not leave anything behind. She burst into the Hufflepuff common room and began to wildly knock on every door.

“Why is no one here?!” She exclaimed, pounding her fist against the wall. “The headmaster and Slughorn are gone too! And Dumbledore- Wait, I can tell Dumbledore!”

She rushed to the exit but crashed into a tall figure. She fell back, hitting her head.

“You didn’t think you would actually get away, did you?” It was just Tom this time. His friends were nowhere to be seen.

Y/N scrambled back but Tom easily outstretched a hand, grabbing her collar and pulling her up. “I got you a gift.” He said, handing Y/N a narrowly wrapped present as soon as the clock struck midnight.

“If it’s part of a body, I don’t want it.”

Tom merely smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Y/N opened the lid a tiny bit, jumping when she saw a pure white snake inside. It hissed and bared it’s sharp fangs at her.

“Sweet dreams, amour.” Tom uttered, stepping forward and knocking the present out of Y/N’s grasp. The box fell and the snake swiftly slithered over to Y/N’s ankle. “I love you.”

He harshly pressed his lips to Y/N’s just as the snake opened its mouth and sank its fangs into her flesh.

“Is this really the best way to do it?” Avery questioned as him and Lestrange pulled a wooden plank from their dorm floor. “We could just hide her dead body in a closet. Though, eventually, her corpse is going to rot and stink.”

Tom, from his position on his bed, tilted his head to the side. “Who said anything about her being dead?”

Nott arched an eyebrow and laughed. “She’s not actually alive, is she? Because stuffing her in there would be cruel.”

“Since when did you care about being cruel?” Tom retorted, “To be honest, I’m not actually sure whether she’s dead or not. I checked her pulse and there was none but her heart is still beating. It’s… strange. And fascinating.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smirk.

Y/N was shoved beneath the floor boards right next to Tom’s bed. He lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the dull thumping beat of Y/N’s heart.

All that happened last year. Y/N’s body was never found and Hogwarts lost a bright student. Tom’s friends could never hear Y/N’s heartbeat but Tom could.

He heard it at night when he was cramming in some late night study.

He heard it when he was kissing another girl in his bed and it reminded him of who his heart belonged to.

He heard it as he descended into a dark madness that not even Dumbledore could stop.

And he heard it as he yelled the very same spell he had yelled at Onyx on that fateful night at Harry Potter. Up in the castle, Y/N’s body still lay shoved deep under.

As Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, faded into nothing, he could hear Y/N’s heartbeat get louder and louder and he was reminded of what he had done to the sweet Hufflepuff.

That was her last Christmas and she had spent it under the floor, dead but not fully, never to be found or seen or heard from again.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… but the very next day you stuffed it underneath the floorboards with the rest of my corpse until the sound of my heartbeat intensified your descent into madness.”

#tom riddle #harry potter x reader #hogwarts houses #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #tom riddle x reader #voldemort #lord voldemort #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #xreader #malfoy manor #draco malfoy #ron weasley #harry potter fanfiction

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shanastoryteller · 20 days

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omgomg happy birthday I hope I get this in on time ummm time travel drarry? ooh or Slytherin harry?

set in Snakelet universe

“It’s my last year,” Agnesa says, hands on her hips and a gold Head Girl badge pinned to her chest. He had a growth spurt over the summer and now she can’t really loom over him anymore, but the effect is still roughly the same. “Please just have a quiet year. I have Newts.”

Harry considers getting offended about this, because first year really hadn’t been his fault at all, but last year was, sort of, his fault.

Was he supposed to find a giant, ancient snake living under the castle and not try and befriend it? Besides, now Hagrid is cleared of all charges and he’s their professor! Last year was a net positive, really. “I’ll do my best.”

Draco walks in, letter in hand his eyebrows pushed together. He looks up, blinks at Agnesa, and says, “So you heard, then?”

“Heard what?” she asks warily.

Draco winces, then shifts his focus to Harry as he says, “Sirius Black’s escaped.”

Agnesa pinches the bridge of her nose.

“That’s not my fault!” he says hotly. Couldn’t Draco have waited five more minutes?

“No,” Agnesa says, voice muffled from the hand covering her face, “but it is going to end up being my responsibility.”

Well.

Probably, yeah.

#went back and forth between linking the fic or the og slytherin harry prompts series #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #harry potter

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pasukiyo · 28 days

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Hey!! Idk if you are taking requests but can I ask for a Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff reader imagine where they are academic rivals and are fighting over a book in the library and Tom pins the reader to a bookshelf and it turns into something heated, the book long forgotten.

Bonus if when they have finished with their make out session, the reader sneakily grabs the book and leaves while childishly smirking at Tom who just stands there with a small smile.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you write it?

THE DISPLEASURE IS ALL MINE

tom riddle x f!hufflepuff!head girl!reader word count; 1,473 warnings; arousal mentioned lol summary; in all your years at hogwarts, you'd been competing against tom riddle. you were always at one another's throats, and today wasn't any different...

She blinked at the hand covering hers, her fingers curled around the leather spine of the book she’d been searching high and low for in the Hogwarts Library. With a wrinkle in her brow, her gaze trailed up the black sleeve of the hand’s robes until it reached the person’s chest, a shining, silver ‘Head Boy’ badge pinned above the Slytherin House crest.

The furrow in her brow deepened and her lips curved down into a frown at the realization of whose hand was atop of hers, eyes narrowed as she peered up into the dark gaze of Tom Riddle.

“Tom,” she deadpanned. “How unlovely it is to see you here.”

A corner of Tom Riddle full, pink lips curled into a sneer as he stepped in closer, fingers slithering over the back of her hand until they curled around the edge of the book she held a firm grip on.

“The displeasure is all mine,” Tom replied, glimpsing over to the Charms textbook they both held. “Forgive me for not wishing to stay for small talk,” he said, tugging the book forward and she fumbled to keep her grip on the spine, pushing it back into the wooden shelf.

“And forgive me, Tom, but I believe I had this book first,” she replied, anger already beginning to swell in her chest and bubble like magma at the pit of her throat. Tom already seemed to have this effect on her anyways, but why, why of all days did he have to have this book now, when she needed it so desperately?

Tom’s eyelids narrowed and her glare hardened right back in challenge— he must’ve somehow already known that she’d be needing this book. Oh, she wouldn’t put it past him— perhaps he’d eavesdropped in on the conversation she’d had with her fellow Hufflepuff, Clara Wingrave, earlier when she said she’d be spending her night studying for her Charms N.E.W.T. She had every intention of finishing off her seventh year at Hogwarts as top of her year— there was no way in hell she’d allow Tom to best her this time.

“I’m not so sure,” Tom straightened, his displeasure evident in the coal black of his eyes and she puffed out her chest, the ‘Head Girl’ badge above the Hufflepuff crest on her breast glistening even in the dimly-lit library. Tom’s eyes flickered there and oh— he was doing it again.

He’d always do this to her, always give her those eyes, that look like for a moment, he wanted her. He’d done it ever since they were fifth years when they’d both been named prefects and nearly toppled into one another trying to be the first ones into the prefect compartment on the train ride to Hogwarts. He’d done it every time they had debates in the middle of Transfiguration, every time they practiced charms in class, even when they had been assigned to a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He’d do it almost every chance he got, and this time certainly was no different. She knew he knew what he was doing and what was worse— sometimes, she feared it was working.

Tom was trying to weaken her, to expose a weakness within her and exploit it, use it against her. She’d admit that warmth would flood in pools at her cheeks when his gaze lingered on her lips a moment far too long, just as it did now. But when Tom’s own mouth began to curl into a smirk, she knew that she had had enough.

Years of competing against one another, of trying to outdo the other, of trying to prove her worth over his, of repressed tension, and outright frustration was beginning to prove to be rather exhausting. To say she’d had enough was the understatement of the century— so when her gaze flickered down to his lips and she could feel the tips of his fingers ghost over her knuckles where they still stayed splayed on the spine of the Charms book, she snapped.

She was like a rubber band pulled past its limit, the way she threw herself into Tom Riddle, the boy she loathed, or at least, spent all these years convincing herself she hated. Her lips were like a meteor crashing into his like he was the earth and Tom nearly recoiled from the surprise. With her hand not on the spine of the book, she grabbed a fistful of his robes, drawing herself in closer to him to deepen their kiss, her tongue swiping over his.

Her heart was pounding against the inside of her chest— what was she doing? What was she even thinking? Was she even thinking at all?

She didn’t know the answer. Her mind focused solely on Tom Riddle and his lips, his tongue pirouetting around hers once he’d gotten over the initial shock that she was, indeed, kissing him. One of his hands slithered around her waist, palm pressed against the small of her back, while the other cupped the side of her neck, drawing her in even closer. She hummed into his mouth as her hand not fisted in the chest of his robes snaked its way around his neck until her fingers reached his nape, ringlets of his perfectly-tamed dark hair woven between them.

For a moment, nothing mattered. For a moment, it was like there was no bad blood between them, nor had there ever been. She kissed Tom Riddle like she’d been pining for this for forever, like she’d been waiting for this moment since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if she always had, if there were a part of her that always dreamed she’d be given the opportunity to kiss him, to have him in such a way. She wondered if a part of her was giddy, while the other half of her wondered if she was just stupid.

Their lips broke for a moment so air could be ushered back into either of their lungs and her eyelids fluttered open to find that Tom was already staring down at her, gaze so dark, she wasn’t sure where his pupils began and his irises ended. A string of saliva bridged between their lips and she looked between it and back up at Tom, already hungry for more.

“You’re a lousy kisser,” she managed between breaths, attempting to rekindle at least some of the animosity between them, for normalcy’s sake. Tom’s eyes flickered back down to her mouth, eyeing the thread of saliva stringing their lips together. His head shook, head bowed as he leaned in closer.

“Be quiet,” he murmured before his lips were on hers again, using the hand he had on the side of her neck to push her up against the bookshelf, her hands darting for the elbows of his robes for balance.

His opposite hand palmed at the flesh of her hips through her own robes and she mewled into his mouth as their muscles wrestled against one another. Trying to overpower Tom was proven futile, and while for her dignity’s sake, she wanted to keep fighting, she couldn’t deny the pleasure she found in letting him take control, in letting him explore her mouth deeper, more freely. She could feel her core pulse with the ache of her growing arousal, feeling sweat begin to bead at her hairline from her face’s heat.

Merlin, what was she doing?

This was a boy she hated, a boy she’d been competing against for years now and here she was, snogging him in the library where anyone could catch them any moment now.

And she had N.E.W.T.s to study for.

She peeled her eyelids open, thankful Tom’s were closed as she removed her hand from one of his elbows, eyeing the Charms book from the corner of her eye. As carefully as she could, she stretched her arm until the tips of her fingers could hook around the top of the spine, her chest surging into his as she yanked it from the shelf, savoring the taste of Tom Riddle’s mouth before she pushed him away altogether.

Tom panted as his eyelids snapped open, reaching up to wipe their mix of saliva that had begun to slide down the side of his mouth. Although flushed and clearly out of breath, she held the Charms book proudly up for him to see, spit-covered lips curving into a mocking smile as she began to speed walk away.

“Thanks for the book, Riddle! Don't worry, perhaps you'll get your turn after N.E.W.T.s are over,” she called over her shoulder and just before she turned to face the right direction, she swore she could see the pearly whites flash behind Tom Riddle’s lips in a smile.

a/n; omg i'm so sorry, you literally sent this request in MONTHS ago and i've been so behind 😭 i do hope this is somewhat what you imagined, and i hope you enjoy it!

TAGLIST;

@orphicmortala (thank you for the request <3)

@your-nanas-house

@sallowsarchives

@michelle-26

@iamthejam

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #wizarding world #harry potter #harry potter fandom #tom riddle fic #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter imagine #hp fandom

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villain-crown · 24 days

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regret | @jegulus-microfic | words: 1,255

critical care, part 4 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

Despite his conviction, James did not end up mustering the courage to ask Regulus out that day. He almost managed to get there a few times, but then Sirius would just pop out of nowhere with some meaningless side quest for him to work on. Each time James had finished doing what was asked of him, Regulus had moved on to busy himself with something else.

The next morning, James finally accepted that he had been left with no choice.

He would have to physically visit the “dungeons” himself.

Standing in front of the doors to the Slytherin cardiovascular intensive care unit two floors below Gryffindor, James took a few slow, steadying breaths. It was his lunch break and he was determined to finally speak with Regulus without Sirius running constant interference.

Do you want to go out sometime? he rehearsed in his head, swiping his badge to gain admission through the doors. No… more assertive. Let's go out sometime. Yeah, yeah that’s good—

“Who the hell are you?”

James pulled his gaze to find a Slytherin with platinum blond hair looking him over from behind the nurses’ station counter. She was perfectly put together in designer forest-green scrubs with a matching stethoscope clipped to her waist and her badge was decorated with multiple pins outlining her various professional awards and accomplishments.

James rolled his eyes upon recognizing her. “Oh come on Narcissa, we’ve worked together for five years!”

“Fine. What do you want, Potter?”

“To talk to Regulus,” he declared bravely.

Narcissa lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He’s busy.”

“I know,” James replied quickly. “I just need like thirty seconds to—“

“Did they finish up the chest tube?” Narcissa interrupted him to address her sister, Andromeda, who had just exited the patient room right behind him.

“Yeah, Slughorn’s fellow finally gave up on the resident and just shoved it in himself. This whole river of nasty yellow pus shot out of her left lung. It was wild. Hey, James. What are you doing here?”

James blinked as the conversation suddenly twisted back around to include him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Narcissa cut him off.

“He’s here for Regulus, apparently.”

Suddenly, both of them were sizing him up. Their critical gaze made him wish he’d thought to iron his burgundy scrubs or something. “Have you told him what happened to the last guy who was ‘here for Regulus?’”

“C’mon guys, I just want to talk to him.”

“Talk to him or sleep with him?”

James jumped as Bellatrix, the third Black sister, appeared from fucking thin air right at his elbow.

“Bloody hell, Bellatrix, where did you even come from!?”

“Excuse you, you’re the one barging onto my unit trying to filch our baby cousin.”

“You just snuck—“

“Potter,” Narcissa interrupted impatiently, tapping her wristwatch. “We have a fresh heart coming in. You’ve got till then to convince us we won’t regret this.”

“Lunch,” James replied quickly, straightening up. “I just want to take him to lunch, I swear.”

“Are you single?”

James flinched. “W-what?”

Bellatrix snapped her fingers in his face. “You’ve got sixty seconds. Don’t waste our time. Are. You. Single?”

“Yes!”

“You like our little cousin?”

“Yes… ma’am.”

“Are you fucking anyone at the moment?”

“Bella!”

“Are you?”

“No!”

Bellatrix’s dark navy eyes bored into him like she wanted to crawl into his head and take a good long look around. “Hm. To the cafeteria and back only—and keep your hands to yourself or I’ll snap them off and use them to hold pressure on room 18’s hematoma. You’d better buy his lunch.”

James had just enough time to gape at the Black sisters before the double doors to the unit opened and a procession of operating room staff came inching through, a heavily sedated heart transplant patient transported among them.

Seizing the distraction, James backed away quickly to locate Regulus, who he found resetting his workspace after a procedure, preparing an incredibly unstable older man for the next rocky hour of hanging onto life. Partially-clotted blood stained the floor, hastily covered by surgical towels from when they’d inserted an emergency dialysis line in the patient’s neck. A machine to filter his blood had been set up near the ventilator.

Regulus looked very cute in his Slytherin-green jogger scrubs and soft fleece zip-up. The loose coal curls atop his head shifted with each turn of his neck and his slight frame just made James want to scoop him up and put him on his lap.

“What, Potter?” Regulus finally asked when he’d hovered in the hallway for over a minute, depositing the last of the capped needles into the sharps container.

Let's go out sometime, he coached himself. C’mon, Potter, you’ve got this! Let’s go out some—

“Lunch!” he blurted out. “Er, Bellatrix said you can take your lunch now.”

“What?” Regulus frowned, glancing at the clock. “It’s barely noon.”

“We should go,” James said quickly. “At the same time, I mean. Together.”

Regulus quirked a dark brow, his silver eyes sizing James up in the bright hospital lighting as he paused in changing his dialysis machine’s filter. “Together?”

“To the same place.”

“I’m not a bloody idiot. I know what ‘together’ means.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

Regulus tilted his head in amusement. “Listen, Potter… you’re a bit of an idiot so I’m going to spell this out for you.”

Oh please spell out “take me, I’m yours.”

“I don’t get any nicer than this and some of my needs aren’t easily met.”

James felt his heart rate pick up. Fuuuck, he was in trouble. Sirius was going to kill him. Bellatrix was going to throw him off the roof of the critical care tower. He really did just mean to ask Regulus to lunch; maybe get to know each other a bit, make plans for the weekend.

But the mouth on him!

“I’m very good at meeting needs.”

Regulus didn’t seem to buy that. “Really?” he drawled, looking James up and down with obvious doubt, making the Gryffindor bristle.

“What makes you think I can’t?”

“You strike me as a bit too… sweet; people please-y. You’re aware that my stupid brother has forbidden everyone in this hospital from making anything resembling a pass at me?”

“It’s just lunch.”

“Is it?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Regulus smirked, taking the three slow steps necessary to close the distance between them, pushing himself up on his toes to breathe in James’s ear.

“The things I like might be a bit much for you.”

“I think you’re really underestimating the things we’ve already done in my head.”

Coming back down on his heels, Regulus ran his tongue over his teeth before biting down on his lower lip. “Hm. I’m intrigued. Fine, I’ll get Snape to cover my patients. You’d better have more to offer than that dazed look on your face, Potter.”

With that, Regulus walked away.

…Holy shit.

HOLY SHIT!

He had a lunch date with Regulus Black!

Left alone with his raging thoughts and a sedated patient, James fumbled with his phone to send a frantic text.

To ‼️📣Marlene📣‼️:

If he meets my parents on Friday, I can propose on Saturday, and spend all of Sunday absolutely railing him.

Looks like I have weekend plans ❤️❤️❤️

From ‼️📣Marlene📣‼️:

There’s no saving you anymore, Potter. You have a death wish, and at this point, you frankly deserve it.

RIP when Sirius finds out what you’re doing ☠️

#jegulus microfic #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #james loves regulus #sunseeker #marauders nurse!au #villain-crown microfics

129 notes · View notes

novelizt · 5 months

Text

EXPECTO PATRONUM II ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ HOGWARTS AU [slytherin! lockwood x fem! ravenclaw! reader]. rivals to lovers (and a dash of 'everyone knows but them'). fluff and angst.

WC ➺ 17.4k

SYNOPSIS ➺ after a six year rivalry with lockwood, your patronus suddenly matches his when it didn't before.

DISCLAIMER ➺ reader is implied to be shorter than lockwood. appearance of harry potter next gen characters and a few ocs. lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'dearest vexation', (+'my girl). prefect! lockwood. jessica lockwood lives!! (i also headcanon him being a cunning-flirt, so lockwood might read slightly ooc.)

WARNINGS ➺ strained family dynamics (for reader). boggarts, and a lot of unpolished dialogue. QUILL KIPPS. blood and injuries (tending to wounds). mentions of kids and marriage at the end.

⚜ PART 1 | SERIES MASTERLIST

In true Slytherin and Gryffindor fashion, neither of the boys hesitated. Lockwood swung a hex at you. You deflected with a basic protego. He advanced, closing the distance to aim better.

On the other side, Daria flung offensive spells at James. She managed to cast levicorpus on him. He hung upside down, chained in the air. That didn't dampen the flames of his spirit. He threw more charms and jinxes at her. She responded just as quickly.

You almost lost sight of Lockwood before he casted an impressive disillusionment charm on himself. He melted into the background as your blood rushed. You opened your senses and spun revelios in attempt to unveil him.

James's feet found the floor thanks to Lockwood, and the Potter striked a petrificus totalus back at Daria. Instead of turning his attention on you, James nodded to the air and sat like his part was done. He was heaving but smirking.

The hairs on your neck rose and you turned to dodge a stupefy the still disillusioned Lockwood slung at you. You could only hear your breathing and your shoes tapping.

Every hair on your body stood as paranoia sunk in. You're tempted to give up, but you remembered who you were up against and regained your resolve.

You backed against one side of the cage, leaving three directions he could come at you from. In that position, he couldn't catch you from behind.

You'd obviously underestimated Lockwood's growth. The last time you saw him cast a spell as impressive as his disillusionment was the sleeping trance charm he used on the dragon. He used your lack of knowledge against you and you were both impressed and frightened by it.

You remind yourself that you were a Ravenclaw, one of the most highly acclaimed students under Professor Flitwick and the brightest witch of your age.

Everytime you won against Lockwood, it was because you were using your head. Then, it finally clicked for you.

You held out your wand and went on a limb as you spoke, "Accio Prefect Badge."

You heard a gasp to your left and spun your wand to cast revelio. Lockwood's face appeared, speeding towards you, left hand trying to remove the badge he often boasted about. You couldn't help but smile, raising your wand, ready to cast.

His wand rose to rival yours. You heard the beginnings of an explosion spell before adjusting yourself.

Your hand was furious and your lips moved at a speed you didn't know was possible. The beginnings of his firework charm surged towards you before the sound was cut off by the crippling noise akin to metal meeting metal.

The explosion was engulfed by silvery light. It swallowed the flames until all that remained was your patronus.

They say the devil's in the details, and you forgot about one in particular detail. Your smile faded as a silence befell the room.

Your patronus had stayed a crane. Its wings, pearlescent and broad as it hovered, a carbon copy of Lockwood's.

There was static in your ears. Your face drained of colour and your heart plummeted to your stomach.

The patronus's glow casted a faint veil between you and Lockwood. He looked back at you with a shocked but not surprised expression. Neither of you expected James to raise his wand and stupefy you.

—

Everything was all black for a while. You had no dreams. Yet, somewhere in the void, you began to hear giggles, familiar and chilling.

"Come on now," one spoke.

"Stumped by a stupefy!" another added, this one more energetic.

"And by Jamesie, no less."

"Potters are trouble," the other tutted.

The first gasped. "I saw her lids twitch!"

"We know you're awake already."

You cracked your eyes open, and, sure enough, you're greeted by two golden-haired rascals; Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

Three years your juniors, they were Ravenclaw's notorious twins who were known to be as caring as they were mischievous.

Your throat dried, your neck stiffened, and you wished the duel was all a dream. You tried to sit up, to no avail.

Lorcan jumped into action, helping you up by propping a pillow behind you whilst Lysander passed you a cup of water. It wasn't spiked with anything, you pleasantly discovered. You finished the whole glass in one fell swoop.

When you shifted to return the glass to the bedside table, you felt a tug on your opposite arm and nearly jumped when you spotted curls of brown crushing your hand. He was slouched but there was no mistaking that resting sad face.

No wonder the twins were so smiley.

You turned to them. "How long has he been here?"

"Asking about him first?" Lorcan grinned.

Lysander cupped his chin. "That's awfully un-rival-like of you."

"Hush. Just tell me."

"Since you asked," Lorcan said with an attitude.

"Tony's been here since lunch," Lysander answered. You laxed. That wasn't so bad, it couldn't have been too long.

"Lunchtime yesterday," Lorcan corrected.

Your soul departed from your body.

"He would have come sooner if Madame Pomfrey didn't keep you under intensive care," Lysander continued, as if that was any better. "No visitors until she deemed you stable enough."

"He's very stubborn, you know."

"I think she knows, Lorcan."

"And you let him?" You kept your voice down but your tone was a borderline shriek.

"He wouldn't let up." Lorcan shrugged.

"Professor Flitwick said the best we could do is bring you two food and drink," Lysander backed up.

Your jaw loosened at the news. "The professors allowed this?"

The pressure on your hand lightened. Your lips smacked shut as Lockwood said, "I'm their best student, they let me do anything."

Say something smart, you told yourself. It's the only right reaction to an egoistic comment like that, but your mental function ceased at the rasp in his voice. His very, very groggy voice that made you feel like you've been hit by lightning.

One hand rested on yours while his other arm lazily held up his head. He looked like he was about to fall asleep again, yet, he looked like he hadn't slept at the same time. Gray swooped under his eyes, he turned more gaunt than the last time you saw him...

Goodness, the last time you saw him. Heat crawled up your neck.

The patronus. The crane, his crane. Now yours, too.

He knows.

The Scamander twins were on the same wavelength because Lorcan hopped onto an empty square of your bed and asked, "So... is it true?"

Lysander crossed his arms and placed them on the bed. "Did your patronus really change?"

"Did it?" Lockwood asked, just to drive the fact home. Though tired, he did that smirk-smile that you've committed to memory.

You blamed your near internal decapitation for your unaligned state of mind. You answered quietly, "It did."

Lorcan and Lysander exchanged looks. Bright-eyed, like they had just discovered a Fantastic Beast of their own. They both leaned toward you, forcing you to lean toward Lockwood to retain some of your personal bubble. He didn't mind, he even squeezed your hand to reassure you.

"How did it happen?"

"What was it before?"

"Did it happen consciously?"

"Did someone cause it to change?"

You didn't know which twin was speaking, their lips were moving at the same time. You processed their words before answering. "It just did. It was a giraffe. No, I didn't expect it to change at all. And I don't know."

The last answer wasn't really a lie. Lockwood didn't do anything special, but your patronus was now miraculously connected to his. He was involved somehow. You would be grasping at straws if you didn't consider your earlier adventures to be the catalyst.

Lorcan and Lysander had a whispery discussion while you drowned in your reverie. When they decided that they were sated with your answers, they waved you goodbye. You faintly hear a muttering of George's name and it all made sense.

George had sent the twins to gather intel because he knew you could never say no to them. That, or he was still upset at you over being dragged into the anti-Amortentia scheme. The bugger.

You sat up despite your aching head, but surrendered the moment Lockwood brushed a finger over your knuckles. It's odd to give in so quickly, but it was too late to go back on it.

Your eyes shifted to him and, just like before, his were already on you. A smile formed on his lips but it wasn't your favourite one. He gave you a tight-lipped grin that matched the ashen grey under his eyes.

"You were stupefied," he said.

You rolled your eyes and pretended not to see his smile grow. The weirdo missed seeing it.

"Unfortunately," he continued. "You had backed yourself too close to Professor's cage. The stupefy basically bludgeoned your skull against the cage and the protective spells sent you in the opposite direction."

Just hearing the technicalities made you grimace. You remained grateful he didn't mention Madam Pomfrey's methods of fixing you up. If you had broken your skull, you wanted to be ignorant of it. Lockwood understood your dread and kept the rest of the details to himself.

That still didn't answer the question that's been at the forefront of your mind. "Why are you here?"

He sucked in an audible breath, eyes wandering. Classic evasive Lockwood move. You already knew he was going to respond with a lie.

"Because I owe you one," he said.

You mastered the art of stoicism, but that didn't take away from the fact that it was harder to practise that time around.

"You don't owe me a thing," you replied, coughing away the dejection that bled into your voice. "We're even. The Romanian Longhorn incident, remember?"

"How could I forget?" He smiled at the floor. Another swipe over your knuckles that sent you into orbit. "But I would have been spell-bound for the rest of my life if you hadn't intervened."

Years—That's how long you'd been avoiding his eyes and how his emotions swam in them, but now, you couldn't convince your angel and devil to look away. Honey in a bottle eyes pried open so raw you physically felt the weight of his words, and then the shackles of your own guilt.

It clawed at your throat, coiling its gangly fingers around your windpipe and choking you until your fears were forced out. "You were spell-bound because of me."

He responded with a frigid laugh. "Are you kidding me?"

Your brows furrowed. "No? Why would I kid about something like this? You were under the influence of Amortentia. It's not the first time a tragedy had come from its misuse. Have we not learned from the story of Vol—"

The cold bit at you as he disentangled his hand from yours, pushing himself back to see you in full. "This is not about the moral of the story or what could've happened. Why are you blaming yourself?" He scoffed. "Sweetheart, you're not the one who tricked me. Some nutter did."

"Listen here," you gave a despondent sigh, crossing your arms and distancing yourself by pressing your back into the pillow. "She wouldn't have done that if you hadn't... been so fixed on me."

"Sorry, is that a sin?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Fancying someone that isn't her isn't a crime. You didn't do anything to hurt me. What she did was the making of her own evils."

"Fancying? Lockwood– Nevermind that. She said—"

"You value her word over mine?"

"No!" Your heart clenched, your mind raced. "Merlin, no. I just mean that you would be better off without me."

Lockwood never looked so frustrated before. Not at you, at least. He pressed his lips together, fists on his hips as he paced.

Your eyes followed in wait. There's not much else you could say. You'd let the biggest resident of your mind go in that one exchange. You didn't take into account how anxious it would make you to see him react.

He stopped, as did your heart. You sat up straighter when he let his arms fall to his sides.

"You are the most despicable woman I have ever met," he said in one breath.

You had a lot to say about that. You were offended, humiliated, and humbled all at once. Yet, he didn't let you say a thing until he finished.

"And I could easily choose some other lovely lady who doesn't give me a migraine every time I speak to them, but I can't. Because I've been taken by you the moment you called me a twat for mistaking a llama and camel even though I am the raised as a muggle between us." He stole a breath to replenish his air. "And I try to make you understand that there is no getting rid of me, but your lack of awareness is equivalent of my lack of failure—"

You rolled your eyes at that and he cracked a smile.

"And if I had to guess, it would take about a million years and triple that of worshipping before I get you to understand that I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you; But I'm already aware, and I'm going to spend all of my mortal years trying, and then spend the rest of our reincarnations doing that over and over just so I can be yours. Don't even try to stop me, sweetheart. You know I never give up."

Your cheeks hurt from trying to repress a smile.

"Come on," Lockwood coaxed. "No need to be shy. You can smile, sweetheart."

And so, you did. But you didn't expect the waterworks to begin.

Salty tears slid down your cheeks and into your mouth. You tried to wipe them away to preserve the rest of your dignity in the face of Anthony Lockwood but it was for naught.

Your breath hitched as your chest constricted, but it's the first time you cried tears of joy. You couldn't help but laugh amidst the pain.

Years of trying to prove yourself to your family. Years trying to meet ungodly expectations just to earn your place at their table—they return to you at the same moment. You cried for every minute you fought for a modicum of love from people who preferred pride, all while Lockwood was right there. You didn't see it until he spelled it out for you.

Lockwood washed away the shattering memories with every swipe that dried your tears, then quelled the rest of your fears as his arms came around you.

He held you fast against him. "I hate to say it, but I love the way you keep my feet on the ground. Snarky attitude and all," he said.

Your head hurt from both the injury and the crying, but you'd never felt so seen, so loved.

It was pure instinct to try and hit him. That time, he let you. Your fist met his chest with a dull thud.

"Would you look at that," he chuckled against your hair. "You got me."

He earned a soft laugh from you, and you didn't see it, but he smiled your favourite smile.

You got him in more ways than one.

—

If you admonished one thing, it was whispering behind your back. The likelihood for people to do just that tripled since the patronus business got out.

You and Lockwood, renowned for butting heads at any given opportunity, had the same patronus. They were studying magic. Of course they knew what that meant.

In the recent days, you'd taken to hiding in the confines of the library. If not, you'd be tucking yourself in your room behind a good novel.

Lockwood had taken up the same hobbies.

You pulled a book out of its space to examine the cover, just to double take and peer between the space it left behind. You'd recognise that smirk anywhere. Only Lockwood would pose all suave against a shelf like that.

He smirked. "Like what you see?"

"I don't know. An ogre is covering a pretty, rebound version of Hogwarts, A History."

He laughed all dashingly then closed the book he pretended to read. He came closer, setting his forearm on the shelf.

"I open my heart to you and you wound me. You are a cruel, cruel woman."

"If you didn't like that about me, you would have handed your heart to someone else."

"Have I told you how much I love your feistiness?"

You cheeks strained from holding back a smile. "Bugger off."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then duly decided to drop the act. "I don't feel like being obedient today. Come with me?"

You squinted at him. "Where?"

"It's a secret. Why, you scared, smart girl?"

You pursed your lips, miffed. "Please. You're the bigger pansy between the two of us."

His smile stretched. "Prove it."

"I will."

You returned the book to its place, locking Lockwood out of view. You heard his laugh and stifled yours as he was reprimanded by Madam Pince.

—

Calling Lockwood a danger magnet was putting it lightly. The man actively sought out danger like it was weaved into his state of being.

Somebody had to keep him in check, and some Higher Being had chosen you to be his keeper. So, there you found yourself, at the margins of the Forbidden Forest in the belly of the night.

"If I die, I want a special coffin in the likely event that my corpse leaps out and strangles yours."

"Sweetheart," Lockwood set his hand between your shoulders, easing you forward. "I'd be torn to bits before I ever let anything touch a hair on your head."

"Very reassuring."

He poked his head over your shoulder just to flash you a smile. "I know."

He chuckled as you shoved his face away.

Even if you were braced in your warmest cloak, the chill of being at the thresh of such a foreboding precinct of Hogwarts was overwhelming. It was like being face to face with a Roman Longhorn, except there were more than two eyes on you. You could already see their glowing irises peering at you behind the foliage.

They scrambled for the dark when Lockwood had casted lumos, lighting up the dirt path ahead. He eased his arm over your shoulder, squeezing you to him, before trudging on.

"What are we looking for?" you whispered. In your mind, the less creatures that knew you were ever in the Forbidden Forest, the better.

Students were punished to walk through the very path you were on, and here you and Lockwood stood, walking it on your own volition. Your reason for being there was to prove an arrogant Slytherin wrong, but you were walking the path regardless.

It took a moment for Lockwood to answer. He was already looking between the branches. "Promise you won't behead me if I tell you."

"I would behead you even if I did promise."

His lip quirked. "A spitfire as always."

You feigned politeness. "May I know now, please?"

"Since I'm doomed either way, I won't tell you that we're on the hunt for a unicorn."

Your feet dug into the dirt, halting Lockwood in his path. Disbelief written on your face. "A unicorn?!"

"Well, 'hunt' is an abrasive word. I suppose 'find' is a more apt verb—"

You slapped his chest, and he turned to you with a grin so blinding it outdid the lumos.

You motioned to the vast forest ahead. "Spotting one is as likely as becoming friends with a centaur."

"It isn't impossible," he quipped, as if that would inspire you.

"Lockwood," You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled, expelling all your murder ideations in the same breath. "You are as reckless as a Gryffindor."

"I take full offence. Gryffindors rush in with no clear goal. I, on the contrary, have a remarkable one."

You gave him the benefit of the doubt. "What would this 'remarkable' goal be?"

He was the picture of youth as he smiled. "To fulfil a childhood dream."

The nuance was lost on you. You trusted him to not have done something so particularly stupid.

He tapped your chin. "Why the face? You're the one who drew them all over your notebook."

You reeled. "Me? When?"

He looked dumbfounded. "When we met. You threw the whole notebook at me, remember?"

It dawned on you slowly. The cogs finally clicked into place, and you shoved him, just for him to catch your hand and grin.

"You remember it now?" he mused.

He let your hands fall between you, refusing to let you go.

Your cheeks warmed. "That was six years ago. Rowena knows where that notebook is now! I haven't drawn a unicorn since third-year Care of Magical Creatures."

He reclaimed his spot by your side, throwing his arm around you once more. "It's a testament to my impeccable memory."

"Your memory won't help if we're torn apart by rogue beasts," you chastised.

You expected a response. A real, apologetic response. But you watched as his eyes fell over your shoulder and simply stared instead.

You scoffed at him. "You are terrible—"

He cupped a hand over your mouth. "Shh!"

"Woat aye you loofing at?" You shook your head, freeing your mouth. "What are you looking at?"

A smile teased at his lips as he pointed over your shoulder. The glow at the end of his wand died, making the presence of the very real, very majestic unicorn prominent. Its coat shined like it was made of moonlight. You almost forgot to breathe as you watched it with the intrigue of a tyke.

Lockwood was much closer than before. His whispers loud in your ears. "Breathe, sweetheart. Can't have you fainting on me now."

You breathed a laugh then snapped to cover your own mouth. The creature craned its head around, allowing you to glimpse midnight blue eyes before it galloped into the trees. A short but worthwhile encounter.

Lockwood tugged on your arm, bringing you back to the present and leading you out of the forest.

You're still at a loss of words when you glimpsed his triumphant smile. "Not impossible," he reiterated.

You're on the brink of a laugh as you agreed, "Not impossible."

As you broke into safer forest, you realised that night wasn't over. Not for Lockwood, at least. His hand slipped down your arm before he twined his fingers with yours.

His smile brightened when you adjusted your grip to hold him tighter.

"We have one more stop before we succumb to sleep," he told you, leading you through the clearing.

Your curiosity grew as you passed Hagrid's hut. "Somewhere within Hogwarts, I hope. At this point, I find it plausible that you're scheming to sneak out to Hogsmeade."

A metaphorical lightbulb blinked above him. "Not yet, but that is a brilliant idea."

"There isn't a moment of peace when you're involved."

His fingers ghosted over your knuckles. It affected you more than you cared to show.

"Sweetheart, we both know we're susceptible to boredom when it's too quiet."

"I suppose," you hummed.

You did enjoy the cracks in the silence being filled by intelligent squabble or nonsensical arguments. But only if they involved one audacious Slytherin.

Your thoughts turned to static as torchlight began to cast a golden glow in the grass. This clearing was the opposite of empty. Torches and cages inflated where the air should have been. What fit in the cages were what stole the air from your lungs.

Lockwood was absolutely joyed that your first reaction was the dropping of your jaw.

The cages were filled by dragons. Luckily, asleep. The same ones that were supposed to be there for educational purposes.

You heard that they were on the loom for being transported back to Romania, but you never thought that they were being kept this close to the castle.

Lockwood led you by the hand, further between the cages. They shrunk in size until you were at the end of the line, facing a chillingly familiar face.

You laid a hand against the grainy bars, close but not too close to admire the sleeping beast. "The juvenile Romanian..."

Lockwood stared down at the nameplate welded against the bars. "Her name's Gorgonzola."

"She's named after a cheese?"

Lockwood chuckled. You felt the shake of his shoulder through your linked hands. "We were almost wiped out by aged dairy."

"It's a good thing we quelled her then." You nudged his side, and he nudged you right back. "Now, we're able to admire her without the impending threat of death."

"If that incident hadn't occurred, you would still hate me," he chuckled. It came out soulless.

You were taken aback. You weren't his biggest fan, but it would be too dire to say you hated him.

"Lockwood, I wouldn't hate you."

"Well," he downplayed the frown in his tone. "we wouldn't be friends."

You turned to face him. The toes of your shoes bumping his. He looked up, surprise evident in his eyes. You were so close, he could see his own reflection in your eyes.

His eyes followed every movement of your mouth. "Sulking over a version of us that doesn't even exist, snake boy?"

The edges of his lips upturned. "Just considering the possibilities, sweetheart."

You recognised that spark of mischief anywhere. You only had yourself to blame when he'd closed the distance even more.

"Besides," He cupped your cheek, drawing you closer. His fingers tickled the underside of your ear while his thumb brushed your cheek. "I like this reality better."

I do, too, you intended to say, but the words died on your tongue. Your lips parted as he inched closer and closer. Honesty lulling you together.

You felt his lips land on the corner of yours, teasing. You hummed in dismay before he drew away, leaning in to finally—

"Hey! What are you two doing here?" The dragon's caretaker, most likely. By the sound of it, he wasn't happy to see two miscreant students skulking around.

Lockwood bit his tongue, holding back the urge to call out and tell them to shove off just so he had a moment to kiss you—but the look on your face sobered him quickly.

You didn't have the luxury of being involved in trouble as he did. Your family would know if you got into trouble. The dominos would fall, and a sad you was the kind of thing Lockwood casted spells to avoid.

He tightened his hold on your hand. "We'll get back to this," he promised.

You nodded firmly, holding onto him with the same intensity.

Though the moment was left behind, Lockwood clung to the vision of your eyes fluttering shut. Your lovelorn face seared into the back of his mind, keeping him up all night.

—

You didn't know where you and Lockwood stood at that moment in time. You were walking the line between more than friends, less than lovers. Wherever your feet were, you realised you had a lot to make up for.

If he caught you at the right time, you might just blurt out that you loved him, too. You'd been fortunate enough to have the restraint to keep your confession contained.

The thought of telling him felt like bearing your soul. You were unprepared for it. But there were new ambitions that stirred in your thawing heart. They all centred around one, Anthony Lockwood.

You tried to be subtle, but in Lockwood's eyes, you were as subtle as a gun.

You remained your verbally abrasive self (how he found it enamoring eluded you), but you picked up the habit of awarding him with a kiss on the cheek when he drapes an arm over your shoulders. He's yet to brace himself and melts every time.

In the same time frame, you magically found a way to duplicate your notes so he didn't have to hurt his hands to write them.

His hands were perfectly fine. Lockwood said you're insane for it, but you replied with, "have I ever been sane?"

To that he'd shake his head and smile a smile that encompasses a million confessions.

On another morning, a gaggle of first-years delivered a gift box of his favourite knacks from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and Honeydukes sweets. They told him it was from an anonymous benefactor but one look up and his eagle eyes spotted your poorly done disillusionment charm.

He thanked the kids with a smile and sent them off just so he could tap your disillusioned arse as he passed, then had the gall to chuckle at your yelp.

The rest of Hogwarts progressively became aware of the development. Professor McGonagall purposely seated you apart. Professor Flitwick did the opposite. Professor Longbottom occasionally tipped off ideas like hiding spots and locations with a view.

Even Peeves seemed to be aware that you were unofficially an item. To your utmost surprise, the poltergeist took it easy on you.

Your shenanigans began to pay back Lockwood's six years of unnoticed pining. The man of the hour appreciated them but his heart could not take that much affection. Realistically, it could, but he never passed up an opportunity to be dramatic about it. Especially when he caught sight of you in his colours.

It was the last Quidditch match of the year—his final match as a student of Hogwarts; Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

He wholly expected to see you among your housemates, sporting the deep blue you looked so good in or even in red, just to spite him, but his heart stalled when he spotted you in steal-his-heart green.

He knew it was you even from miles away because you were sporting his number and wearing his jersey. The very jersey you said you'd never wear, you wore with a smile so bright it makes the cloudy skies part just for you.

He was just about ready to abandon his broom when you blew a cheeky kiss his way.

"Lockwood!" his teammate called urgently.

Lockwood begrudgingly looked away. He leaned into his broom to chase the Snitch, but he couldn't pry his eyes away from you for too long.

At the tail end of the game, the Snitch hovered right in front of you. You stared at it while Lockwood lunged for it, catching it in his palm and (un)covertly planting a kiss on your cheek.

It sent the stands into uproar and secured another win for Slytherin. He pointed to you as his team threw him up on their shoulders.

—

"You–" He snatched you from your path, beguiling you behind a fluted column. "–are unbelievable."

You smirked when you whirled to face him, resting an arm over his shoulder. The other against his forearm—and you chuckled when you felt him flex his arm to impress you. He couldn't help but smile.

His nose bumped yours, taunting. Judging by the way you raised your head to follow, you wanted the same thing he did.

Unfortunately for you, he was still Lockwood. He pulled his head back to coax that scowl from you. It sent him back to the first time he'd seen that look on your face. The weight of the world lightened every time he saw it.

You're not one to sulk, or beg, or admit you want something. Of course, you changed the topic. "Congratulations on the win, Captain."

"Captain? I like the sound of that." He did his best to remain chivalrous, but the thought of slipping his hands under your—his—jersey to caress your bare waist was meddlesome. It was tempting, and he barely fought the urge by drawing circles over the shirt instead. "Call me captain again, sweetheart."

You must be getting back at him. He had no other explanation for the rapturous grin on your face. "You're being too kind . . . I'm never going to call you that again."

"You are cruel, have I told you that before?"

You laughed, and he felt your breath on his neck. He found it reasonable to assume you're experienced in torturing boys who are in love with you. He clamped his lips when you graced him with a kiss on his chin. So close yet so far. "You love that about me though."

His fingers dug into your sides, keeping you to him even when you tried to pull away. Your fox grin only grew, confirming that you were torturing him on purpose.

He was immediately pardoned from guilt. He slid his hands down, and then up; touching your skin with chilled fingers. His smile reached his eyes as your mouth parted for a gasp.

"I do," he said, playing along and kissing the corner of your lip. "I'm forever harrowed by the very thought of you."

His form of play is quickly dispatched once his eyes meet yours. The mischief died away, leaving something deeper. More amorous. Yearning.

"Anthony..." It's but a whisper, but his fingers grappled to feel more of your skin. You felt them at the curve of your ribs, holding you with the prudence reserved for a fragile thing.

He drew you closer, as if the proximity of your mouths weren't enough to sate his cravings. "Say my name like that again."

"Anthony," you mused.

You're flush to him. If you were any closer, you'd feel his smirk against you, on your lips or your skin. You weren't picky.

His voice dropped to a lower register. "Yes, sweetheart?"

You lifted yourself on your toes. You met his eyes, but they travelled to his lips with intent. His eyes fluttered shut, transfixed on your smell, your hand tangling into his hair, your breath fanning his lip—everything. You drew closer and closer. He almost tasted the satisfaction of finally kissing–

"You better not be snogging behind there!" Kat Godwin, the dementor in disguise. Now, the person you wished to throw into the Black Lake.

You groaned and rocked back. Lockwood held on to your waist, closing the distance and allowing himself the reprieve of pressing his forehead against yours.

"We'll come back to this."

"Third time's the charm," you hoped.

His pulse raced as you snaked your hands up his torso, bracing your hands on his chest. If he didn't love you so much, he would have felt betrayed for the way you shoved him into the open.

"Anthony Lockwood," Godwin tutted. "I should have known..."

He glanced back at you, glimpsed your smile, and decided that he liked you too much to be mad.

He turned back to Godwin with a smirk. "I'm positive I saw a roach run through here." His lip twitched when her eyes darted down the hall.

Lockwood watched you book it for the opposite hall, ducking out of sight and escaping trouble. You blew a kiss before you turned the corner and he found that he didn't mind being your scapegoat.

—

Lockwood was aware that your beauty and brains could charm even the deadest of hearts. Some days, he wished you didn't have the magnetism you did. He dreaded every second watching that Gryffindor boy scamper up to you, a rose in hand.

Lockwood wasn't one to be mean up close, but he found glaring from a distance to be fair game.

You looked up from your book, innocent and unknowing, with a smile made for a princess. You turned the lion boy away, of course. You didn't even glance at the Gryffindor boy's love offering. The sad chap went off to wallow on his own.

Your head turned at the sound of Lockwood's footsteps. A smile coming to you before he even reached you.

"Hello, snake boy."

Lockwood didn't dawdle. "He was chatting you up."

"You were watching?"

"It's hard to miss trollop."

Amusement danced in your eyes. He forgot how gracious you were when he was caught up in his own mind-matter.

You shifted to the side and patted the spot next to you. Like a puppet on a string, he sat. Leaving no space between you, his arm flushed against yours.

"You're jealous," you said, with a lot more merriment than he expected from you.

His brows furrowed. "He's a twat. I'm just glad you had the sense to turn him away."

You crossed your legs and set your hands on your lap, exuding confidence that made him forget his own name. "So, you are jealous."

"Indefinitely," he said mindlessly.

"My poor serpent boy," you cooed sympathetically.

Your hands found his cheeks, and he had no reason to complain. He even nuzzled into your hold.

"You're never this touchy in public," he muttered, appreciating the closeness. He dipped his head to plant a gracious kiss on your palm.

You spoke like the action didn't rile you up. "I know someone adores me enough to be jealous of a boy I don't even know."

You felt his smile against your hand. Yours grew.

He planted one more kiss on your other palm before he drew himself away. He fought the urge to lean down and steal your first kiss right then and there because he had something much more fitting planned for you.

"I know you hate breaking rules but this is the last time I'm coaxing you to, I promise."

"I don't believe that for a second, but if you're so convinced, I don't see why I shouldn't be involved."

He turned your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckle. "The Astronomy Tower, after hours."

"Are you mad? The Astronomy Tower has special protection charms on it's doors."

Lockwood was mischief personified with a grin like that. "Have you no faith in me? I swear by Merlin's name, by the time you sneak out, I'll have the door open for you. I am a gentleman, after all."

It was glaringly obvious that you lost your ability to say 'no' to him.

—

You'd become acquainted with the darkest halls in your recent trysts with Lockwood. You would be lying if you said you weren't sceptical this time around.

The Astronomy Tower, a heavily guarded place following the murder of the previous Headmaster, was Lockwood's idea of a good time.

It was no easy feat to get in, especially when it was dark out and the charms were upped for maximum protection.

You let the glow from your wand guide you through the halls. Once you made it to the base of the stairs, you're greeted by the sight of Lockwood. Suave and plucked from your dreams, he kicked off the wall and pushed the door open with ease. All while wearing your favourite smile. You could have kissed him senseless.

He bowed at the waist, flourishing a hand at the open walkway. "Ladies first."

"You are... unbelievable. You actually did it."

He held his palm out towards you, like an invitation to dance. "Did you ever have a doubt?"

"For a moment," you admitted, placing your hand in his.

"Anything is possible, if you have enough nerve." He punctuated his statement by kissing your knuckle, his eyes never leaving yours. He was luring you in, and it was working. "Shall we?"

You nodded, allowing him to guide you up the stairs, passed the landing before you set foot on the observation deck. The gold accents of the room shone, even in moonlight. The books that filled the shelves vibrated, like they were dying to open themselves and unleash the knowledge they held, and the skyline ceiling was so brilliant, you could reach up and feel it against your skin.

If you spoke the want to touch a star, you had no doubt Lockwood would take a shot in the dark just to make it happen.

"Don't look at the books, sweetheart. Look at me."

"But the books are so pretty."

He grinned, holding back the urge to say something cliché. You could guess what it was.

Instead, he said, "Plenty of time for them later. I have to show you something."

He guided you to the balcony, the night's chill amplifying the feel of his warm hands on yours. It was getting hard to act like your heart wasn't jumping for joy.

The wind tousled your hair, the stars dotted the sky, and Anthony Lockwood made everything look so much brighter.

He rounded until your back was against his chest, pulling you in until you felt the thrum of his heart against your shoulder. Arms wound around you to shield you from the bite of frost than rolled in now that winter was one step through the door.

You found that his pulse was just as eratic as yours. Fervent in every sense of the word.

You'd never been in this position with anyone. The proximity was jarring, but it was welcomed nonetheless. You laxed into him, and he eased into you.

You weren't paying attention to the view as you hummed. "This is nice."

"I know... I was waiting until you didn't want to decapitate me to bring you here."

You turned your body to rest your cheek on his shoulder. "It's not my fault you're insufferable."

"Is that truly your favourite word to describe me? I hear it plenty."

"You tell me, serpent boy. I don't remember every little thing about myself."

"Remembering the little things about you is my job, thank you very much."

You felt the rumble of his laugh through his chest, reminiscent of a cat's purr of contentment. It took everything in you not to bring it up.

All whilst Lockwood was trying to keep himself together. Anything that involved you took a lot of restraint on his part.

Unexpectedly, you broke the silence. Your voice, the song of a lark in the night. "Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?"

"No, I don't think you have." He hated to put a distance between you but he wanted to see your lips make the words as you said it. "Go on and tell me."

He memorised the way your smile reached your eyes and the softness of your brightened cheeks as the stars reflected in your eyes. You'd always been beautiful, but you were vibrant now. He liked to think he had something to do with it.

"I don't hate the way you know me better than I know myself."

He cracked a smile, cupping your cheek with the tenderness one reserves for their most precious thing. "Come on, you're more eloquent than that, sweetheart."

Your smile widened, and you melted into his palm. "If the world allowed it, I'd like to go back and return every stolen glance, every missed confession, and every chance we lost to be friends sooner."

His cheeks hurt from withholding a smile. "We can move past our regrets. Besides, aspirations have changed. I don't just want to be friends anymore, sweetheart." His thumb swiped against your cheek, printing the image of you into his memory. "I want to be your life's confidant, your harbinger of hope, your worst nightmare, and the object of your dreams. I want to be everything to you, because you are already everything to me."

Of course, he had to outdo you in words.

“Cheesy...” you teased.

His thumb travelled down the curve of your cheek, flitting over the plush of your lips. It took everything not to steal you away as you pressed your delicate lips against the pad of his thumb, like his confession didn't have to be returned in words.

And you didn't seem to be looking for words at all. Your hands found his lapels. With a sharp tug, you finally connect your lips to his. Years fell away as he grasped your neck, holding you to him as your fingers slid into his hair.

You exchanged breaths. A mess of clashing teeth and rushing emotions. Judging by the fervency in his grappling for skin, you got an idea of how long he'd been waiting for this, for you.

Yet, he wasn't savage about it. His movements were eager but equally as careful, savouring every stolen second he had you all to himself.

Even as the air ran short, he couldn't fathom the idea of being too far from you. You broke the kiss, chasing oxygen. He rested his forehead against yours, heaving with a smile that could brave you through your worst times.

His thumb swiped over your lips once more, already missing you. "Would you find it pathetic if I said I've dreamt of doing that?"

"I'd be more flattered, really. What girl wouldn't want to be wanted like this?"

You disarmed him as you cupped his chin.

"Can't imagine," he replied. He bumped his nose to yours, and you leaned into him even more.

Should have known that the world wasn't kind enough to give you much time to yourselves. Both of you jumped into action the second you heard the clicking of shoes coming up the stairs.

Anthony refused to release your hand, even as you rushed for cover. Your whispered urgencies fell on deaf ears. You didn't get far enough to hide fully.

Your back was against the wall, hidden from sight. Anthony was not. You were whispering for him to just duck beside you when he clamped a hand over your mouth and posed for whoever appeared inside the Tower.

"Lockwood?" Lucy Carlyle.

You sighed in relief. You weren't in inescapable trouble after all.

"Hey, Luce! Fancy seeing you here."

"What are you doing?" A few more steps.

Anthony panicked. "No! Sorry–" He cleared his throat. "I... made a mess of a hex. It's a disaster."

You bit his palm, offended. The way he sputtered was victory enough.

"Really?" Lucy questioned, deep in disbelief. "You look completely fine... Except your hair."

"Terrible winds, really. The mess is off to the side." His smile was so unconvincing you could laugh.

Instead, you started a trail of pecks across his palm, travelling down to his wrist until he choked on air. Your heart swelled and mischief bubbled to the surface. You grew audacious enough to nip at his skin.

Lucy's voice rang out. "I can help—"

"Absolutely not!" Anthony winced at the crack in his voice. "I mean, I have it handled."

You heard a few more steps. Anthony laxed. You assumed Lucy was walking away. "If you say so..."

"Haha. I appreciate the concern, Luce. Let's keep this between us, hm?"

"Sure..." Her steps echoed as she toed down the steps. Before she shut the door, she added, "Say 'hi' to the Ravenclaw for me."

Anthony slumped himself against you, sulking as you laughed. "Not as sly as we thought, hm?"

"I've had better days..."

You ran your hands through his hair, attempting to right the mess you made of it earlier. "Then you're blaming the night?"

He raised his head from your shoulder. "Don't tell me you're about to side with the moon again. I'll start to think I'm competing with it."

"Well, the moon is beautiful."

"Oh, come off it. I'm so much better."

He took it upon himself to prove it, pressing your hips into the wall as he stole another ground-shattering kiss from. You surrendered, musing his hair to your heart's content.

—

Anthony thought that the perfect way to start off a relationship was to demonstrate how you two truly clicked in terms of cruelty. Not that you'd call it that outright. You'd crossed out Lockwood's 'revenge' and wrote 'comeuppance' in its place.

He eyed the plans from over your shoulder. "Does it make a difference?"

"Comeuppance is just karmic debt being repaid. Revenge sounds like it could be a crime."

"It's only a crime if we get caught."

That could very well be Anthony's life motto.

You rolled the scroll up and casted a hasty concealment charm on it, packing it away in the bag of supplies before you looked down the hallway.

"You go cause a distraction."

He guffawed, clutching his cloak like he'd been stabbed. "I came up with the plan. Why do I get distraction duty?"

"Because," you drawled, fixing his tie. "You're a sweet boyfriend who does anything to pacify his vengeful girlfriend."

"Defence is a pivotal subject in the field I'm aiming for. I could lose my career if this goes wrong."

"I can cover all our future living expenses, and we won't get caught. Swish away the pessimism, captain."

"I'm not being pessimistic. I just want to be the one flinging oobleck balloons."

You smiled faultlessly. "We'll miss our chance if we don't time this correctly."

His shoulders sunk, a grumble shaking his chest before he righted himself. "Do what you please. Just... don't turn me into a ferret. I heard a terrible rumour about some other Slytherin being turned into one."

"You have my word."

An enchantment here and a flick of a wand there, and a baby eagle stood in the place of your lover. You cupped him in your hands, cooing cordially as he nipped at your fingers.

If a bird could blush, you assumed he would have. You set him on the window sill.

A ways down, Professor Loathes-Your-Guts strolled by. Unassuming and grumpy as ever.

"As good as I am, it won't last forever. Off you go, Cinderbird."

Anthony squawked indignantly before you shoved him off the sill. He stretched his wings, working out the complexities of flight right before he hit the pavement.

His odd way of flying seized the Professor's attention right away. She caught him in her hands, stopping right where you wanted her.

Anthony freed himself as the first balloon careened down and splat against her head, drenching her in watered starch. You muffled a laugh as she screamed bloody murder. She had yet to get the sludge out of her hair before you dropped three more.

Blood pumping, Anthony flew right up, turning human right as he shot through the window.

"Save some for me!"

You kicked the box of balloons toward him, absolutely riveted by the scene you'd caused below. You looked far too good doing evil, and he was the Slytherin.

He dropped five balloons before Peeves uncovered the plot and took matters into his hands.

The poltergeist bombarded the Professor with the remaining ammunition and left the basket over her head as a consolation prize. While she shrieked at him, you and Anthony booked it—hands connected, boasting matching smiles.

Operation: DADA Comeuppance — Success!

And thanks to the spirit of mischief, you were never caught.

—

Anthony found it ironic that your favourite views were of crepuscular rays; those beams of light that slice through dense foliage or part the clouds to shine on dreary ground, because it's how he often described you—rarely letting the light in but always magnificent when you do.

You were standing under one of those rays as you bowed to a Hippogriff, once again setting an example for the class. It's to nobody's surprise, he's the first to burst into applause.

You glared at him. He mimicked your deep bow in response. The twitch of your lip was reward enough for him.

It wasn't long until the party was assigned to pairs. It was an easy guess as to who leeched to your side the second people broke off into their groups.

You waved your finger at him, as if that would keep him from you. "If you keep tailing me, we'll end up on the Bulletin'."

"I love a good word in. About us, specifically," he replied.

You shook your head, more endeared than disappointed. "Of course, you would."

"If I were you, I'd be showing off my new boyfriend."

"You say 'boyfriend' with so much conviction, you would think we've been going out for years."

"My apologies, m'lady. Would 'husband' suit your tastes more?"

"Lockwood!"

He withheld a smile. "You can call me Anthony, sweetheart. In fact, you can keep my last name for yourself."

Your mouth dropped into an 'o'. "I cannot believe what I'm hearing."

He took a more tentative step towards you, closing distance. "What are you hearing?"

"Nonsense. I hear nonsense," you replied. You were doomed the second your back hit a tree. Anthony wasted no time to trap you against it. "You are..."

He leaned down, bumping your nose with his. It was inertia that drew him close enough to touch lips. "I'm what– Oof!"

He clutched his chest after you pushed him away, smiling like you were faultless. "I'd like a ring if you are seriously talking about stealing surnames. A nice, awe-inspiring ring. Not a common one. Something privy to us."

He rubbed his shirt as he spoke, a smile teasing his lips. "How's about a house to start?"

Your visage changed. Genuine surprise marred your features. "You're serious?"

"It's a big house, and it could use a magical touch."

The way your lips quirked into a smile made him forget himself. A mistake he'll try not to make in the future.

Under the spell of your gaze, he hadn't seen your Hippogriff friend rush for him. He received a headbutt to the side and crashed into a tree. If that weren't bad enough, a fat fruit thumped him right on the head.

For a fleeting moment, everything went blurry. He saw you as a smudge in his vision. When he tried to talk, all that came out was gibberish.

"He's a friend," you explained to the Hippogriff. It gave a ninny and nudged its snout against Lockwood's side as a form of apology.

When he came to, he got a faceful of Hippogriff cheek. You waved the gentle beast out of the way before cradling Anthony's head.

His foul sentiments dissipated. Perhaps he should get bodied by a Hippogriff more often if that meant he got to see you this doting again.

"Merlin, Lockwood... I forgot she was protective."

"That's 'Anthony' to you, sweetheart, and 's alright," he slurred, blinking his vision back to clarity. He smacked his lips, luckily not tasting blood. "I get protective of you, too."

"Not the time to flirt, serpent boy."

"You're holding me. There is no better time to flirt."

"Alright, Casanova."

Your hands travelled to his wrist, assessing his pulse, then pressing into his side to check the extent of the damage. If this was a glimpse of how you'd be as a healer, he was already jealous of the patients you'd be caring for.

The second his brain fog cleared, he patted his pockets in search of his gifts.

You sat back on your calves, staring him down like the wind could blow him over. "Looks like minor damage."

"Excellent news," he rasped. He took your hand and placed a solid metal something in your palm. "This is for, if you choose to accept my invitation." He fished in his pocket for a second object. He placed that into your closed palm as well. "And this is for you in general."

The first object was a heavy silver key. The ornamental kind of key you loved to hold as a child. You stared at it with so much intensity, he was convinced you were trying to set it on fire with your eyes.

"You're just... giving this to me?"

Worry crossed his face. "Yes. If you'd like it, of course."

"I like it," you said urgently. "How could I not? I just... Don't I have to do something to earn this? Like, giving up a handful of galleons or marrying–"

He let go of the breath he was holding.

"Hold it there, sweetheart," he grasped your hands the second he saw your mind going in all different directions. "I want us to live together, no conditions. I want to be close to you." Of course, he had to add, “I know, I couldn't believe it myself.”

Your hands tightened around his. He'd let you squeeze his fingers bloodless if it quelled your worries.

He cracked a smile, relieved to see you giving the effort to return it. He carefully unravelled your hands to show you the second object.

You gasped. As would any girl when they're presented with a ring. It was the metal that complimented your skin best. A solid band detailed in engravings and decadent carvings. Your worry morphed into panic. With tense shoulders, your eyes flit to Anthony's.

"Relax," he mused, turning the ring in his hands and sliding it on your third finger. "It's not an engagement ring. It's a passion project of mine..."

Your shoulders laxed. "Thank Merlin... Hogwarts is not a place to propose."

"Agreed, and I'd never disrespect you by proposing so drably." He chuckled, examining the ring on your finger before brandishing his matching one. "They're a pair, loaded with protective charms and a trace. It functions as a handy portkey, too."

You raised your hand to the light, examining the engravings in full. "Why turn it into a portkey?"

"The trace tells me if you're in trouble. The portkey will take me to you the second you are."

Only a witch like you would fall in love with intricate spell work. It made you susceptible to melting for gestures as thoughtful as Anthony's.

He admired you as you admired the ring. His heart jumped as you quickly turned your head to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you," you whispered. The raw, unfiltered gratitude in your voice made him fall for you all over again.

His smile reached his eyes. "Anytime, sweetheart."

—

Waiting on the last train out of Hogwarts felt like some kind of catharsis. A journey that spanned seven years felt like a short car ride home. There was happiness doled by sadness, and sadness doled by happiness.

It was in Anthony's nature to look on the bright side, but it was difficult when he hadn't seen you since the awarding ceremony. You outdid him, of course. Bringing home one medal more than him.

His initial plan was to sulk, maybe play kicked puppy and finesse himself a kiss, but his anticipation blurred into worry as the train entered view, but you didn't.

He broke from the crowd, leaving his things with Lucy and George before going off to find you.

He didn't peg you as the type to take a last walk to your favourite spots, but he found you in the dingy Defence classroom. As much as you loathed the lingering stench, you exalted the memories in that very room. The only subject of concern was a boy toying with an empty cage on the far side of the room. Anthony turned a blind eye to the stranger, for how could he look away from you?

Your eyes, that were peering ruefully out the window, snapped to Anthony's. He felt the beginnings of a smile creep up.

Without warning, a wardrobe wove open, the hinges holding it together rasped as a black form ballooned out of it. Your gaze fell on it, and horror replaced the nostalgia instantaneously.

He'd never heard you scream so loud.

Blood rushed to his head. He found his wand.

You fell to the floor, clamping your hands over your ears with your eyes shut tight.

Vision in red, he turned his attention to the boggart that crushed the air in the room. It took the form of four figures; A horrific scene sampled from the many tormented stories plucked from the war...

He paused, finding his own tortured face staring back at him and your anguished one shackled, unable to help. The two remaining figures must have been members of your family, looming over you and watching you without compassion. They were your boggart.

He didn't hesitate to mutter the counter-charm.

The illusion burst. The boggart whirled back into the closet with the wardrobe doors crashing shut.

The boy Anthony hadn't paid attention to stood to reopen it but Anthony threw a stupefy right at him. The boy nearly dented the wall with how hard he rammed into it.

Anthony advanced, fury heavy in his steps. It only heightened as he realised who the boy was. It was the Gryffindor boy you'd rejected all those weeks ago.

"You have got to be kidding me." Anthony scoffed.

The lion boy's nose flared, turning him twice as ugly. Anthony might have felt bad if he wasn't furious.

He didn't give the Gryffindor time to recuperate before he drew him up by the collar and cracked his back against the wall. "You bastard. You couldn't take the 'L', could you?"

The boy's head lulled. Anthony had to give it to him, he thought he'd be out cold with how solid the spell hit him, but the tosser had the resolve to spit at him.

There was no guilt in the way Anthony threw him to the floor. He could have done worse if you hadn't called for him.

"Anthony."

He turned his head, relieved to find that you'd returned to normal. Save the red that rimmed your eyes, you were fine. You were the one thing that kept him from bludgeoning the roach on the floor.

No words were needed.

The Gryffindor laughed, repulsed. "So, you were with him this whole time? Godric... you're a bitch—"

"Quite the mouth for someone who'd stoop low enough to unleash a boggart on a lady," Lockwood said dismally. "I suggest you scat. Before I show you what each of my accolades mean."

Courageous as the Gryffindor was, he was brainless. "Did you hand a few to her for 'favours'? Hm?"

Oh, the number of jinxes the human body could handle before breaking. The boy was lucky you were there. Anthony was gentleman enough not to hex in front of a lady.

He sufficed with carving crescents into his own palms to restrain himself. "Serpents don't concern themselves with the opinions of sheep. I suggest you stitch your mouth. There is a lady present, if you aren't too blind to see her."

"Kiss up," the Gryffindor simpered.

Patient as Anthony was, you weren't. You hurled a spell at the Gryffindor. After a twitch, his head hit the ground.

You showed Anthony your palms when you were met with inquisition.

"What? Was I supposed to let him speak to you like that?"

Holding back a smile was futile. He was proud. "You're cute."

You stepped over the Gryffindor and returned his smile. "I know." You brushed the imaginary dust off Anthony's shoulders and righted the orientation of his medals before you took his hand. "As I remember, we have a train to catch."

He twined your fingers, bringing your hand to his lips to worship your knuckles. "Shall we, m'lady?"

"We shall."

You exited the classroom, hands intertwined, leaving behind an incapacitated moron. If the rest of your lives were going to be spent like that, you had no qualms with it.

"Have I told you how gorgeous you look today?"

"No." You looked at him expectantly. "Tell me."

He pressed a kiss to your temple and gave your hand a squeeze as he said, "My dearest vexation, you are a vision. Aphrodite herself would be green with envy."

Definitely no qualms there.

—

"Why is it that you travel by this rather than apparating?"

You were always a sponge for knowledge, but your eyes were particularly bright once the train had delivered you to Platform 9¾. It spat you right out into the muggle world.

Anthony realised that he had never seen you in all-muggle clothes, and he wasn't shy of staring. He was rightfully in a daze until you'd asked the question.

"Cabs take us directly to where we want without raising suspicion from muggles."

"So, they willingly spend their sickles on simply getting home? How impractical, and expensive."

He hid a laugh. "It is the way it is, sweetheart. Nothing we can do to change that. It's best you avoid saying 'sickles' though. It'll confuse them."

"Noted."

Anthony loathed the silence, but he made due with it. He had you for a view, after all. He recounted all of your details, down to the flutter of your lashes as the breeze caressed your face.

Weirdly enough, the ride to Portland Row was much shorter than he remembered.

He slipped out first, flattening a hand at the top of the cab's door and taking the brunt of the impact when you expectedly bumped your head on the way out.

"Sorry."

"Don't mention it. I did the same as a kid."

You kissed his cheek anyway, and he turned his head to the side to make the warmth of his cheeks discreet.

As he unloaded the trunks, you absorbed the Lockwood family estate as it stood: A tall, classical home with wrought-iron fencing leading to the bricked door arch and its charming knocker... the picture of a fine London home.

The only thing out of place was the irritating, freckled face of a neighbour Anthony hoped disappeared.

"Tony! Done with community service?"

You turned to Quill Kipps with a frown. Anthony withheld a laugh. You had never met the man but you obviously disliked him already.

Kipps straightened, realising that you were present. "You have a dame with you... Quite the looker, too."

"I have a name, if you had the mind to ask." You crossed your arms. Anthony found that to be a sign to look away. You had yourself handled. "I suppose the oaf with room temperature IQ has a name, too?"

Quill Kipps's smirk faltered. "He does." His eyes shifted to Anthony before he clicked his tongue. "Just trying to rile up Tony. Hope you stick around though, sweetheart. He could use a backbone."

Anthony soured at the nickname.

You didn't let up your glare until Kipps vanished from sight.

You shifted your heated gaze to Anthony. "Did you hear what he called me? How have you not jinxed him?"

"Trust me, I'm not a fan of him either, but he's a muggle. Trying to fight him would be bullying."

"The lack of justice!"

He snorted. "It's bearable. Now, come on. There's someone who's been dying to meet you."

"I can stupefy the freckled redhead double quick."

"Sweetheart, no."

He seized your hand to make sure you didn't run off and break a law, no matter how entertaining that would be for the both of you.

—

"I'm Jessica Lockwood! Jess is preferable. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Your arm almost fell off from the intensity of her handshake. The older girl was twice as energetic as Anthony and triple times as smiley.

Your boyfriend was the one who saved your hand by taking it into his. "Jess, I like my girl with both her hands intact, please."

"Don't kid. You'd still be smitten if she was cursed into a worm." She slapped her brother's shoulder. You kept in a laugh as he struggled to remain upright. She didn't forget you for a second. "Once Anthony starts talking about you, it never truly ends. I didn't believe he hated you for a second. When he 'complained' about you, he'd use phrases like *'annoyingly distracting'* and *'unfairly attractive'*."

"Jess..."

"The truth was bound to come out." She shot you a knowing look. "You can tell in the smile. He does it without knowing"

"He is terribly obvious," you doubled, holding his hand in both of yours in a pacifying manner.

His mouth fell open. "My word . . . It's been five minutes and the pair of you are already cornering me."

"This is the beginning of something beautiful," Jessica sang. She winked at you before meandering to the door next to the steps. "Now show her your room and unpack before dinner. We're having potato soup. Are you allergic, sweets?"

You smiled until both of your cheeks hurt. "Not at all. I like the sound of potato soup. Before that, I'd like to formally introduce myself–"

"There's no need for it, really. Anthony blabbed about you enough. I'll call you two down when it's ready."

Anthony lead you to the stairs by the shoulders. "Up we go, sweetheart. Before Jess says more than she should."

"I think she's a treat, Anthony. I wish I had a sister like her."

"She kicked me into a lake once. You wouldn't find her very nice if she did that to you, would you?"

"I would kick you into a lake, too, if you were my brother."

"Let's not open that can of worms, sweetheart. I want to be your husband. Obliviate this conversation from my memory."

You laughed, patting his knuckles sympathetically. "Torturing you is just as fun as laughing about it."

"You and Jess get along like a house on fire. That said, I'm not sure how long I'll stay sane."

"I'll save you a room at St. Mungo's." He fought a smile as you stalled on the taller steps. He was a goner the second you turned to wrap your arms around him. "You love it though. And you love me."

He sighed into your hair. "Unfortunately."

His arms wound around you, pulling you close enough for your heartbeats to sync. He nuzzled into your shoulder, and you did the worst thing you could possibly do: you played with his hair. He melted.

The prospect of you being in his forever home made a strange feeling bubble in his stomach. He figured it was what he had been looking for—a sense of fulfilment, or maybe he just needed someone to play with his hair the way you did.

Jessica's voice speared through the tranquillity. "No funny business, both of you!"

"Yes, ma'am," Anthony responded. He stole a chaste kiss from you before leading you to the first door on the second floor.

—

He should have known you'd go straight for the bed. You were always lounging or reclining if you weren't working. Anthony developed a disease that entailed observing you every time you did. He could probably paint a portrait of you, if he only had the artistic talent.

You stretched like a starfish, relishing the softness of the sheets that still smelt of him.

"I could die here, happily."

Anthony kneeled in the space next you to fix the blanket over you. "Sweet as that is, I like you better alive."

"I'll live and die here," you cooed, pulling him down beside you. "So much better than my room... well, my old room. My parents decorated the house like it was a prison. Seeing your mess can make any place feel like home."

"Should I be offended? You just called my interior decorating skills a mess."

"You're ugly enough to distract them from the mess."

"Thank you, sweetheart. Much appreciated."

"You're welcome."

He lowered his body next to yours, throwing an arm over your waist. The brush of his fingers on your stomach did not go unnoticed.

You took the liberty to rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling deeper into the blanket as you did. The perfect plot to hide your warming cheeks.

"Getting cosy, already? In my room?"

"We can share, can't we?" The way you looked at him made the temptation of a cosy cuddle difficult to resist.

"Jess would behead me, and I don't mean metaphorically. We have a collection of axes from pivotal historic events downstairs."

"Just a nap then. We have some time before dinner."

You made a good bargain. There was only so much saying 'no' Anthony could do to you before he bent.

"Just this once."

"Just this once," you confirm with an unconvincing smile.

"I am a gentleman, you understand that? We can't stay here for too long."

"I know."

"Then why are you smiling like that?"

Your smile only grew. "Cause I'll be the barbarian this time. I demand to stay here."

"Sweetheart—"

"My mind's already made up. Sleep, Anthony."

“My sister—"

"Sleep."

He tapped your side in surrender. He dragged the blanket higher to cover your shoulders. "If I am putting my neck out for a cuddle, might as well ask for your input. Though, the idea itself might be absurd."

"Anthony, 'absurd' means 'innovative' in your language. Spill."

"Is it possible to shrink a patronus? I was thinking about the practicality of a smaller patronus after I signed up for the auror training programme."

"It'd be more covert."

"My thought exactly." His expression turned pensive. "I might use it to get into the specialised auror squadron."

"Well," You sat up and wiggled your wand out of your pocket. "Only one way to find out."

He couldn't leave it alone. "First person to do it gets a tick on the Tally."

"You're just bitter I got one more medallion than you."

"What can I say?" He tapped your nose, bringing the smile back to your face. "I love the competition."

—

The spellcasting didn't cease, even after dinner had passed.

You found yourselves under the covers, using the space between you as an arena for your patronuses. So far, every cast came out a regular-sized patronus.

Anthony's eyes drifted to the glint of your ring every time it was your turn. The engravings came to life every time it came into contact with magic. He felt the pulse of it through his own ring. He shouldn't have felt as thrilled as he did, but he couldn't help it.

"Anthony. Are you sleeping with your eyes open?"

"No. Just looking at you."

Your lip curled. "Cheesy."

"You love it."

"No comment."

He laughed before picking up his wand. He concentrated as best as he could, but one glimpse at your face, and it slipped. His patronus emerged as it usually did.

Magnificent, iridescent, and face-slapping. Its silvery sands dissipated as Anthony received a well-placed smack to the cheek.

"That was worse than the last one," you snorted.

Anthony nudged your knee. "I'd like to see you do better."

Even if a million failed attempts already plagued you, you went through the motions. This time, the swishes of your wand were smaller and more slurred—like your wrist was limp as you cast.

Your patronus burst forth. Beautiful and respectable, and the size of a mouse.

"Aha!" You threw your hands up, sending the blanket flying and letting the cold air rush in. "I win! Get the Tally, give me my point."

"Merlin, sweetheart. Careful." Anthony chuckled, gathering the blanket and quickly chucking it over your head before getting up from the bed to fetch the notebook.

Your head poked out of the swaths of fabric, just to prop your chin on his shoulder and watch as he drew another line under your column. Two points more than his.

He leaned his head on yours. "Happy?"

"Very," you quipped.

The patronus trounced over his hand, soaring over your head like a halo before perching on his nose.

"Try it." You coaxed. "Smaller shapes, dramatic flicks."

"You're going to laugh if it fails, aren't you?"

"When do I not?"

The crane flew over to the nightstand, preening it's feathers before cocking its head at Anthony. Urging him to go on.

With a sigh, he gave in and gave it another go. The first attempt was as bad as the last. The second one worked like a charm.

His patronus skipped the usual fly around the room, preferring to head straight for yours, landing next to it and dancing around it before they took off like butterflies in the wind.

Your lips parted for a yawn. Anthony felt your weight press against his side, his arm instinctively finding home around your waist.

"How late is it?" Your eyes were too bleary to read the time.

Anthony found the clock. "A quarter to midnight." He hauled you closer, settling you against the pillows before dimming the lights. "I think we're due for some shut-eye."

"A Slytherin who values a proper sleep schedule . . . Boo!"

He didn't even try to fight you. You were already swaying.

You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. "We can stay up then."

"Your idea, not mine."

Your head rested against him, the steady lub-dub of his heart pounding against your cheek. He felt yours against your ribs as he rubbed circles under your shirt. Even then, he couldn't tear his eyes away from your miniature patronuses.

They lit up the room like restless twin flames. Your eyes followed them, too, but not for long.

The combination of the patronuses' light and Lockwood's gentle massaging proved to be an effective sleeping pill. It wasn't long 'till your earlier words were void and your breath evened out.

"Thought we were staying up," Anthony whispered, more endeared than anything. He couldn't help but place a kiss on your forehead.

The curious thing was... your patronus hadn't disappeared, even as you slept.

The pair of tiny cranes danced in flight. Nipping playfully before beautifully looping around one another.

He observed them for a while more before the drowse began to creep in. He dispelled his patronus, and only then did both of them disappear. Never leaving one without the other.

He cracked a smile as he slipped the blanket tighter around you, blessing your head with another kiss before he, himself, succumbed to the symphonies of sleep.

—

When life spun from essays and practicals to work and elbow grease, Anthony often found himself thinking of the future, of the past and where the two met in the middle.

He wondered if you ever missed the opulence of living in a pureblood home: The fluted columns, the glistening chandeliers, and the sunlight that streamed through ceiling-length windows.

He'd stare at the back of your head, feeling the doubt creep in. Then, you'd turn and chide him about some miscellaneous argument you refused to let rest, then all would be right in the world.

On a particularly gruelling day, he traipsed straight to bed without breakfast, too tuckered out to even lift a finger.

He heard you and Jessica chattering while you cleaned downstairs—moving furniture and kicking the ol' vacuum back to life. Sometime after dusting the bookshelves, you carefully opened the door to your (Lockwood's) room—mindful not to wake him with its creaking. He watched you through lidded eyes. You didn't notice his blinking.

Your hands glided a cloth over the nightstand pictures. When you'd reached the family portrait, you smiled. He found himself holding his breath.

"Your son is a dolt, you know," you snitched as if they'd be ready to gossip with you. You brought the picture to the light and rubbed away a stain on the glass. "Can't even take care of himself these days. He's lucky Jess and I are here to scold him . . . But he is a good man. A polite, romantic, and utterly chaotic one," You took a breath to calm yourself. "but I can't bring myself to hate him more than I... Well, I can't get the word out, but I will eventually. I've only been here for a while but living seems so much easier now. Not to alarm you, but it may have something to do with your son."

It was complete agony to continue feigning sleep after that. You cleaned the other night table, then adjusted the blanket so he was fully covered.

You left the room like you hadn't taken his heart with you.

—

On the dreaded eve of his parents' death, you approached him as he scrutinised the chipping paint and the stick-on stars on the ceiling.

Detached wasn't an apt word to describe how he had been acting all day. He was somewhere else mentally. Not even Jessica could break through to him.

"Jess told me to check on you," you said quietly, trying not to startle him.

All he did was hum in return.

You filled the empty space on the bed. "Anthony . . . Grief is just love with nowhere to go." You set your hand on his cheek, carefully swiping over his cheek, catching tears that have yet to fall. "No need to repress anything in front of me, serpent boy."

He took a shuddering breath. The first time he truly took a breath all day. It shattered you as his eyes glazed over. Even then, he refused to look at you. Refused to show you how torn up he was.

"I just... I miss them, but it's been so many years since they left. I thought–" He sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose just to cover his eyes. "I thought it would be easier. It's supposed to be easier."

You shifted closer, the bed dipping at your weight and bringing him closer to you. He thought he'd seen it all, but he'd never seen that kind of softness on your face. You pried his fingers away and wiped his tears yourself.

He was reduced to a little boy, and you were still sticking around. No barbs, no sharp sarcasm. Just your caring eyes and even more careful hands grasping his cheeks.

"Grief never really leaves, Anthony. They're your parents, of course you'd miss them." You mustered a smile, but it only revealed the tears gathering at your eyeline. "But you don't have to feel it alone. Jessica is here, and she loves you more than anything. It hurts her to see you so distant." He reached up to hold your hand in his. Your melancholic smile stretched. "And I'm here, too. You'd have to be pretty daft to forget your roommate."

He managed a smile, squeezing your hand in silent thanks — just before he had felt his façade fracture.

Anthony sat up, pulling you onto his thighs and wrapping you in a hug that was all-encompassing. He hid his face in your shoulder, and you rubbed his back as he finally let the tears free.

Sobs racked his body, his heart picked itself apart once more, but at least he could breath. Keeping all of the heartache to himself was like holding his breath. There was only so much he could hold before he needed air.

He didn't know how long Jessica had stood at the door before you beckoned her closer. Another pair of arms came around you two, washing away all the misplaced guilt he'd been stewing in since morning.

It didn't make him miss his parents less, but it reminded him that there were still people he got to hold hands with. And you were right, it was easier than doing it alone.

—

The conversation at dinner was a calm one. Less on banter and more on planning what to do in the morning.

The general consensus was to pick up flowers and bring some things to picnic with before visiting the Lockwoods' graves.

Jessica hugged Lockwood extra tight before letting him turn in for the night.

You glued yourself to his side the second he slid into bed. The responsibility of initiating skinship usually was on him, so, the change of pace was heavily appreciated.

He wrapped an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your head in unspoken gratitude.

You fought your nature to fall asleep first, just to stay up with him, but your resolve crumbled after your third yawn. You drifted off. Your arms didn't budge, and he was relishing the closeness for what it was.

Though, his mind wouldn't stop turning.

He never heard his parents' story, but he knew his mother had been a half-blood. He wanted to know how they met, if his mother's patronus ever changed, if his father had fashioned something from muggle magic to impress her.

So many questions that would remain unanswered forever.

He reached for his wand when insomnia had stolen enough hours of sleep from him. In the darkness, he whispered the enchantment.

His patronus burst forth, silvery and glorious... and not alone. Contrary to his previous casts, he summoned not just one crane, but two.

The pair of them remained quiet, for your sake. They perched on the armoire opposite of the bed and preened one another. He was entranced by their obvious affections, only breaking from focus when you shuffled in his arms.

The patronuses faded away, and you blinked into the darkness.

"What are you up to?" Your voice was heavy with drowse. Anthony fought the urge to pinch your cheek.

"Nothing, sweetheart." He glided a hand over your eyes, coaxing, "Go back to sleep."

You grumbled. "I saw something, you liar."

"Just a trick of the light."

You eyed him with sleepy uncertainty before your head went limp against his shoulder once more. "We'll come back to this," you swore.

Anthony pacified you by rubbing your back. "You bet, sweetheart. Now get your beauty sleep. I can't always be the prettier one."

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Not long after, his own eyes began to droop with the twin cranes still swimming in his mind.

—

The last time the sky had been this alive was the night Anthony had stolen you away to the Astronomy Tower. It felt like a lifetime ago.

You barely even noticed the extra luminescence of the moon or Anthony, who had been waiting for some form of acknowledgement all day.

Grunts were your definition of olive branches, and he wasn't having it. He stole the page from your hands and raised it above his head.

Your response was snap. "Anthony... I don't have time to dawdle."

"Why are you so worked up?"

You flailed your arms, gesturing wildly to the hulking stack of papers on your desk. "The warden at St. Mungo's wants to speak to me, personally. I need to be ready."

He read your scrawl on the paper, quickly giving up on trying to understand what it all meant.

What you dove into was far beyond the field of study in Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey clearly took her role as your mentor seriously. You were advancing quickly.

"My girl," he said with a laugh. "You're the only witch who can commit a twelve-foot scroll to heart in the span of two hours. You'll be fine."

He loosened his grip on the paper as you leapt up to snatch it back from him, sitting back down on your chair with your lips pursed. Stress lines forming where your smile lines were supposed to. He hated seeing you so... consumed.

He wondered if you'd been hiding that face behind the four walls of your bedroom before things had changed between you, back when medals were currency in your home rather than achievements.

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity... and it's being handed to me. I have to put my best foot forward." Your hold on the page turned sentimental. "I can't mess it up, Anthony."

He set his hands on your shoulders, and you surrendered to his touch. He took it as a good sign and cleared himself to kiss the top of your head.

"You are the best at what you do," he assured. "No one can compare. I'm not just saying that. You genuinely scare people with how much you know." He spun your chair to face him, tilting your chin to see you. "My dearest vexation... You've got this, and I've got you."

Your shoulders dropped with the intensity of your sigh. "I don't know what to do... I might forget something I'm supposed to know."

"You could never." He scrutinised your work desk before he made the decision. "What you need is a break. Dance with me?"

He drew you up by both hands, guiding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder. When your eyes drifted back to your stack of papers, he killed the lights so you wouldn't be able to see them.

You laxed as soon as the room plunged into the dark. That left you, Anthony, and the glow of the moon and streetlights.

Anthony returned his hand to yours and hummed a sentimental tune to lead the dance.

You leaned into the music, resting your head against his shoulder. He, in turn, rested his cheek against your head.

"This reminds me of our first dance," you mumbled.

"How could I forget?"

You concealed a smile in his shirt. "A lovely dance on the balcony after you kissed me senseless."

"It takes two to tango, sweetheart." He pulled closer, basking in the yelp you let out. "And my hair didn't stand a chance in your hands."

"In my defence, the tousled look suits you." You had the cheek to peck the juncture between his shoulder and neck. "Like the princes I used to read about."

"Charming."

"Don't be salty, captain. You'll always be my favourite." You rubbed his shoulder as a gesture of peace.

"As I should be."

You chuckled. "You're smirking. I feel it."

"You can't even see me."

"Don't have to," you chirped. "I know you."

"I've never met a woman so cumbersome."

Your head jerked back. Even in the limited lighting, he could see the scowl on your face. "You know other women?"

He couldn't hold back a grin. "Merlin, you are so jealous." He pressed a kiss to your temple, a gesture of truce. "You're my only and only vexation, spitfire. Everyone and everything pales in comparison."

You opened your mouth with the intent of giving a smart answer, but he shot you down before you even said it.

"Don't bring the moon into this."

You sealed your lips into a smile. Your worries slipped away, and you relished the few minutes you stole for a moonlight waltz with your lover.

—

In the two years you'd lived together, he'd picked up on your ticks. And you, his.

When you lightly bump your forehead against his cheek, Anthony knew it was your way of demanding a kiss. He never denied you one.

You learned to wear loose shirts to sleep because Anthony liked to slip his hand up your bare back and feel the up-and-down motions of your breathing as you slept.

He never forgot to bring home a little keepsake from work for you, accompanied by a single flower you got to add to a growing bouquet in the living room.

Anthony often got colds in the winter seasons, but he retains his reverent hate for the smell of Vix. So, you made your own impromptu mint remedy with lemongrass and ginger. To him, it was so much better.

Last but not least, a new chess board found home in the receiving room. The pieces only move when you and Anthony arrive home from your respective statutes of work.

Gist is, you had a routine, and you knew what to do for every boyfriend-shaped hurdle life had in store for you.

Imagine the panic that hit you the second your enchanted ring started to warm and shake.

The day was dark and ruthless. Rain pelting down like cats and dogs. Electricity had gone out as well.

You were wary to answer the door, since you were home alone, but you did so anyway because your ring had only grown more restless.

Your heart ceased in your chest as you took in the sight of Anthony. He couldn't even hold himself up. Lucy and James were doing that for him.

You choked on nothing. "Merlin..."

You reached out. Like a moth to a flame, Anthony gravitated to you. Falling into your arms and sighing into your shoulder like your presence alone could suture the injuries that marred his figure from head to toe.

"We took him to St. Mungo's," Lucy elaborated, clutching her own side. She was less beat, but she was still slouched in pain.

James had taken over when she wheezed for breath. "He fought every medi-witch that approached. Said he just wanted to come home and see you."

"You twat," you scolded in a whisper. It took most of your energy to keep Anthony upright. You schooled your expression, offering a mustered smile to his companions. "Thank you for bringing him home. See yourselves to St. Mungo's. I'll cover your tab when my shift rolls by."

James hooked his arm around a limping Lucy, offering you a grateful smile before producing his wand and apparating in the guise of the rain.

Anthony was tracking blood and mud wherever he walked. It was useless trying to get farther than the living room. You'd rather have a tarnished sofa than a bloodless boyfriend.

"What happened, Anthony?" Your tone was firm, but quiet—careful of a headache that could be blooming behind his ears.

You tore off his coat to get to the scratches on his arms. Repairing him one injury at a time. Even if the injuries were gone, his skin was still drenched in his own sweat and blood. It was a mess, and you'd be damned than leave him looking so trodden.

You accioed a basin of water and a handful of washcloths to your side. Swiping away grime as you healed him.

Only when you began to unbutton his shirt did he find his voice.

"We're moving a bit too fast, sweetheart. Where's your decorum?"

Your gaze held bite. He chuckled like his smile would save him.

"Where's your mind? You've been unresponsive for five minutes! I thought you were stewing in the after-effects of a psychological curse—" You drowned a blood-stained cloth in the basin of water, watching scarlet swirl into the clear water before moving back to his shirt. "—and I'd have to give you a permanent room at the ward, and then break the news to Jess—"

"I'm fine—"

"But I'm not!"

You sat back on your calves, taken aback by your own tone. The backs of your fists pressed into your eyes, forcing your tears back in before returning to assessing his wounds.

He was quiet as you examined the deeper gashes slashed across his torso. Your hands swiped at your cheeks before your lips moved, muttering cures and charms that stitched him up like new.

You wiped the blood away, but you wrung the cloth like you still saw blood. On the fabric, on your hands, on his skin.

Your voice was devoid of life as you asked, "May I see your back?"

He winced as he sat forward. At least the pain wasn't as unbearable as earlier. He saw some herbs swirling in the basin, so it was safe to assume you'd taken extra precautions to make things as painless for him as possible. His heart wrenched as you repaired him and dirtied the water with even more blood.

"I didn't mean things to get messy," Anthony told you slowly. He felt your hand pause on his back, then continue with more careful intent. "The suspect had an accomplice we didn't account for. Had us outnumbered... and they had a spell book full of vulgar spells. Nasty ones."

"So, you took the brunt of them?"

He chanced a smirk. "You know me too well."

"You're reckless."

"I couldn't let my subordinates get hurt," he rasped, sucking in a breath when you purposely pressed down on an open wound.

You magicked it away and cleaned the blood, but you refused to meet his eyes the whole time.

Finally, the insistent shaking of the linked rings faded. It calmed your pulse by a fraction, but nothing could cease the trembling of your hands.

Anthony took the liberty to take them in his, your matching rings clinking against one another.

"I'm here... I'm okay."

You hung your head, forehead meeting your twined hands. "I almost lost you... I couldn't find your pulse right away, and there was so much blood—all I could see was red. Anthony—"

"Shh." He closed the space, flattening himself against your side and drawing you into his chest so you could feel the familiar thrum of his heart. "We're okay. I'm so sorry, sweetheart... I didn't mean to scare you."

You sniffed, hiding your face in his neck. "Why didn't you accept help from St. Mungo's? They have blood banks to replenish what you lost, I can't do much about that here."

He held you tighter, rubbing your arm as he racked his mind. "I thought it was too late for me... I just wanted to see you. I wanted to come home."

You hit his chest once, seething as you sobbed. Your tears wet his shoulder, but he didn't stop you. He took your rage until you went boneless in his arms—clinging to him like it would calm the racing of your heart.

Eventually, you picked yourself up to gather another cloth to wipe away the bloodstains on his face. Hands still shaking but determined to restore him to full health.

As low as it was, he still heard you. "I love you, you know that? It's impossible for me to remember a time where you weren't around."

He searched your eyes, finding nothing but morose truth in them. It was the first time you'd said those three words to him. Explicitly, without sarcastic connotation.

He caught your wrist, lowering your hands so he could look at you. "I know... and I love you, too. I'm sorry."

"Then why put your neck out like that? You promised me a ring, Anthony Lockwood. You gave me your word. You can't do that if you're gone."

"I'd never forget," he promised, kissing apologies across your palms and wrists. "How could I when it comes to you?"

"Then tell me why you put yourself in so much danger— in so much pain."

He licked his chapped lips. Your eyes pleaded for explanation, and he'd be cruel not to suffice you with an answer.

Reluctantly, he retrieved the box in his pocket. It was the only thing untouched by blood. Your eyes snagged on it immediately.

Anthony chuckled, nervous, before popping the case open. Inside sat an ornate ring, embellished with your birthstones put together. An eagle held yours in its talons, and a snake held his in its mouth. Your identities intertwined.

Whatever words you wanted to get out died in your throat, mouth hinging but never uttering a word.

Anthony tried his best not to stutter. "They tried to take it from me... I didn't let them. You can imagine that they weren't happy with being deprived of such a beaut."

You sunk into yourself. "You almost died... to save a ring."

"Your ring," he said carefully. "If you still want to have me as your husband, of course."

"I have half a mind to say 'no'." You laughed bitterly, swiping at your cheeks. "Merlin, Anthony... You have terrible timing when it comes to presenting things like this."

"A lot of realisations happen when you walk the line with Death."

He readjusted his hold on the box, refusing to let go of your hand. You admired the craftsmanship of the ring before you leaned on his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll never do that again. I'd rather have a husband than some hunk of metal."

He let out a breath of relief, hugging you to him as you smiled into his shoulder. "Rude. I learned how to craft a ring just for you."

"You crafted this?"

He felt the world hold its breath as he slid the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit for his perfect match. He kissed your knuckle to further cement the notion.

"From scratch," he boasted. "I made a killing from the pen business. I used the money to take some lessons from a smith in Hatton Garden."

"I cannot believe you..."

"You didn't believe me when I said I cleaned your desks before you'd arrive to class."

"That's different," you said promptly. "You almost got yourself killed to preserve a ring."

"That ring brings me one step closer to marrying you," he tutted. He even leaned down to steal a kiss. "It was worth it."

"I would have brought you back from the dead just to strangle you if you did die on our new sofa."

"Good thing I didn't."

You cracked a smile. "Good thing you didn't," you agreed. "But I'm not forgiving you so easily. You gave me a scare, Mr. Lockwood. I hope you know that you're not allowed to hug me tonight."

"I thought near-death would warrant me extra hugs."

"I can give you everything else, just not hugs."

"How cruel..."

You waved your hand dismissively. "Take it or leave it. What do you want while you're not allowed to hug me?"

Anthony wanted a lot of things. The cheesy dynamics in the books you read, the happily ever after where the couple ends up married and in love with a kid or two. He wants your kids to look like him but act like you, so you two wouldn't spend half the time greying from stress. He wanted to be part of your story forevermore.

But holding your hand would do for now.

He tangled your fingers together and kissed your knuckles. "This is enough for me."

Disbelief was written all over your face. "Really? I thought you'd be more combative."

"We have all the time in the world, sweetheart. We can live in the moment."

"I can only hope you don't jump into some other death-defying scheme again. I'll be all grey before you."

"I think you'd look like the snarkiest grandmother ever."

"Thank you, my love."

His brows furrowed. "My love?"

"What's with that reaction?" Your arms crossed. "Fine. I won't call you that."

"No! I was playing. Say it again, please."

"You lost your chance, snake boy." You shook his hand off, standing from the couch.

You didn't get far. Anthony latched to your waist, smiling into your shirt. "I pledge to never approach a renowned criminal ever again. Just say it again. Please, Sweetheart? Spitfire? My dearest vexation? M'lady?"

You didn't even get close to picking up the basin before Anthony snatched it from you.

"When I get back," he said sternly. "I want to hear you say 'my love' again. Even just a whisper. Thank you."

If you were subject to his clownery for the rest of your life, it wasn't that bad of a price to pay. He was thoughtful when he used his brain.

Every Slytherin boy needed their Ravenclaw girl to keep their ambitions from getting them into trouble, after all.

It wasn't long 'till Lockwood crashed back into your arms. Spinning you in the air like he hadn't been on the verge of death minutes prior. His eyes were wide with expectation, and you didn't want to torture the boy for too long. Not after the lengths he went to to keep your ring safe.

You exaggerated the sweetness in your tone as you said, "My love."

Anthony was more than ready to hear those words for the rest of his life.

Neither of you noticed the pair of cranes that soared past the window, announcing the end of the rain and welcoming the beginnings of a wonderful season.

BONUS ANGST ➺ If I didn't include Jessica, Anthony would be able to see Thestrals. You would do some absurd things to distract him when you pass the carriages—even when you were rivals.

⚜ PART 1 | SERIES MASTERLIST

SWEETHEARTS ➺ @kiyasoup @toddandersondupe @locknco @onecojg @avdiobliss @mentallyillsodapop @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @bella-rose29 @wordsarelife

NOTE ➺ expecto patronus was the title because the initial idea was they always protect each other :>

i like to think mitski's 'my love mine all mine' was the song they danced to. so romantic~ i'm just baffled that i was able to write so many words XD all this was once just brain barf, crazy. it was a rollercoaster, but i hope you enjoyed 💙

as always, leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs, i love hearing feedback <3

love always 💙 until next time, my dearest vexations 😘

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄#lockwood hogwarts au #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood fanfiction

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deardoiloveyou · 5 months

Text

Softening angel

Draco x Fem!Ravenclaw!Prefect!Reader

Notes/CW: Angst, fluff, holding hands, romance in general, this is a decently experimental fic, in this AU draco isn't a prefect while you are,

Proofread: Yes

Prompt: Draco slowly falling in love with a genius yet outcasted reader

Part 1, Part 2

Draco's pastimes consisted of; teasing ickle hufflepuffs, in general bullying 'annoying arseholes', making snide remarks to Pottah, and mostly hanging out with his toxic filled friend group. Oh, and might I mention he has a knack for breaking rules (if you couldn't tell).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"You buffoons- quit being so loud"

Crabbe and Goyle were quick to shut themselves up at Draco's command. Sneaking into the restricted section of the library wasn't a usual for Draco, but he needed to know the secrets that resided in this part of the library. No matter what anyone told the cold slytherin prince, he most likely wouldn't listen.

You were doing your prefect duties as always, diligently walking around the corridors of a school that was built like a maze. Yet, you seemed to notice something was off, your instincts were always strong and being observant was what you were known for.

A loud thunk. And then the sound of a boy scolding another person. From what you could make out, he was saying,

"This is why I don't invite you when I'm about to break about a thousand rules!"

And then the sound of shushing, shuffling, and a bit more quiet scolding.

You finally decided to investigate, your shoes clacking against the floor. Draco noticed it immediately, the sound of your walking growing nearer and nearer until he couldn't do anything about it,

"Crabbe- do you see any-..."

Before Draco even had the chance to finish his sentence, he came to the realization they had literally ditched him. Oh, how badly he was going to scold his normally obedient goons was incomprehensible.

"Hm? What does he see...?"

Your voice filled the tense air, Draco knew he couldn't "My father will hear about this" out of this situation.

Draco immediately noticed your practically glimmering Prefects' badge, he decided to try and act innocent (to no avail).

"Ah- Ms. Prefect, I was just about to lea-"

Before Draco could finish his sentence, you cut him off. Deeply disturbing Draco as he was used to having the upper hand. But before you could even begin to scold this unfamiliar boy, Filch's rugged tip-tapping entered the cold library. You weren't sure what to do, but your gut directed the rest of your actions.

You gently pushed Draco against the shelf full of curious books, placing a finger over his mouth as a way to say "Shut up". But Draco never obeys.

"Quite the temptress I see."

Dracos whisper sent a cold shiver down your spine.

"Oh for Merlins sake, shut up..."

His lips curled into a charming smirk.

"Oh you like me, don't you?"

The tension grew between you two. The heat growing between both Draco and you was undeniable. You didn't even know this boy, so how was it that you felt your cheeks burning red?

You finally heard the library go quiet. So you immediately pushed Draco away from you, seemingly further into the bookcase.

Your usual competent demeanor returned, yet you still couldn't make eye contact with this platinum blonde boy.

"I can tell you'd like to know my name, so, the name's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

You took a mental note inside your head to give "Draco Malfoy" a detention. And with that, you turned on your heel and walked off from a mesmerized boy, known as Draco Malfoy.

A/N: this will eventually become a series but depending on my schedule and motivation it could take quite a while!! I truly appreciate your patience as well as the support for my recent fics♡

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco x you #draco fluff #draco malfoy fluff

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storiesfromafan · 1 year

Text

Confessions of the Heart

A/N: it's taken me a few days, but here is part 2 to Antisocial Bookworm. I am so grateful for all the note's it and my other Mattheo story has gotten =^^= I hope this is on the level of the 1st part haha.

I will also be fixing up this story and my other one, once I can get to my boyfriends laptop.

Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Summary: set after the Slytherin party. Mattheo finally confesses to you how he feels..

Confessions of the Heart

Time could be a funny thing, or it could be cruel. In the passing weeks since the Slytherin house party it was unkind to Mattheo. Those fleeting moments with you gave him a taste of something that he was now craving. He wanted more time with you, more moments that would suffice the part of him that craved your look, your presence. In the time since the party he hadn't gotten a chance to be close to you. Sure there had been classes and meal times, but never as close as he'd like.

Lounging by a tree in the courtyard, with a book in hand, Mattheo had taken some time in the afternoon for himself. He quite liked being on his own for a while. It gave him time to sort through his thoughts, or pass the time with a book. Books; a new habit he had taken too after the Slytherin party. Books reminded him of you. And he wanted to feel closer to you. So here he was, in a place you would frequent with a book. Part of him hoping, no wanting, you to cross paths.

You on the other hand had taken to doing your best to be invisible after the party. Though for the first week to two weeks that had been hard to do. The suck and blow game, and your kiss, with Mattheo was all the students were gossiping about. And with one piece of gossip, there were rumours that followed. Some were mild, while others were wild and greatly untrue. But it didn't take long for the rumours to be all gone, no doubt from Pansy and Mattheo.

If Pansy had heard anyone gossiping about you, she would shoot them down with her sharp words and fierce gaze. Maybe even bringing to light some rumors of the offenders own. Mattheo, as you knew, had gone up to anyone that spoke ill of you. He would have been calm and advised them to forget the rumors, but if they protested or he found out they had not stopped, he would end it with his fists. Which led to more detentions, as well as bruises and cuts to his face and knuckles. Including the prominent cut across the bridge of his nose he was currently sporting. But he would gladly wear any bruises and cuts, like badges, if it was to defend your honour.

You had obviously been avoiding Pansy, Mattheo and those from the party. Only dealing with them if necessary. In the classes you had with Pansy, the girl had taken to sitting with you if possible. And chatting to you about the class work, her friends, gossip, etc. You were polite and let her do as she wished. You didn't mind her company. And she had taken the time to seek you out and include you. Maybe Pansy was growing on you. Mattheo was an entirely other thing. Yes there were classes you shared with the curly brunet, but you kept to one side of the room, and he the other. There were times your gazes would meet, and hold for a few moments, before you'd look away. He had been nice to you, but did that mean he wanted to be friends? Surely it was a mistake, you told yourself.

Like you would have any afternoon, you were headed to the courtyard with a good book. But upon walking out of the castle doors, behind some other students, you spotted a familiar figure in your spot. Taking advantage that Mattheo hadn't seen you, you retreated back into the castle. What was he doing in your spot? Surprisingly alone, and with a book in hand? Has the world gone mad? With your favourite spot being commandeered, you headed for the library. Sure there were students coming and going there, but it was a cosy place to read. After all, the place was full of books.

Time had passed and dinner in the Great Hall was getting closer. Most students had packed up and left the library. The only few remaining were the serious studiers, and yourself. Marking the page of your book you thought it best to start getting ready for dinner. With your bag packed you left your little corner in the library and walked into a large foyer that had a beautiful mermaid fountain, which most students conjugated around at various times of the day. Upon passing the fountain you were greeted by Pansy and another Slytherin girl you hadn't really talked to. Pansy parted with her friend before focusing on you.

"Y/N/N! Feels like I haven't seen you all day" she said smiling fondly at you.

You gave her a small smile. "You saw me this morning in Potion's class".

You both fell into step with each other, heading for your common room. Pansy talked mostly during your walk, you gave some input at times. It felt more comfortable when you talked to the dark haired female at your side. You didn't feel as uncomfortable, or unsure with every interaction you both have.

"So I am going into Hogsmeade on Saturday to do a bit of supply shopping. Do you want to join me?" Pansy asked, smiling at you, hopeful you'd say yes.

You were unsure if it was wise. But you wouldn't mind a trip to Hogsmeade, you yourself were in need of a few things. Like a new book or two. "Sure Pansy, I wouldn't mind going to Hogsmeade with you".

Pansy had been surprised you had willingly agreed to join her, but nonetheless excited. Upon reaching your destination, you both agreed on the finer details for Saturday's trip into Hogsmeade before parting ways. You went to your dorm, dropping your bag by your bed before falling backwards onto the soft mattress with a deep sigh. Usually, at a time like this, you would have either school work or books on your mind. But of course you had one particular Slytherin male on your mind.

At the same time as you, Mattheo had made it back to his own dorm. Sitting at his desk he lightly tossed the book he had been reading on the surface before him. He had spent his afternoon in the courtyard with the hope of crossing paths with you, but it never happened. He felt deflated, for he had gotten his hopes up. Maybe you weren't interested in him like he was you. But if you weren't, why would he find you looking at him across a room?

Pulling at the curls upon his head, Mattheo let out a frustrated groan. Any other girl would have been putty in his hands by now. But you weren't like the other girls. And he liked that. Yet part of him wishes it wasn't this hard. He wished you had shown up today in the courtyard, taking a spot under the same tree as him, preferably close to him. At first there would have been silence, but eventually he would have started a conversation with you. The topic might have been the current book you would have been reading. From there the conversation would have, hopefully, flowed nicely. And before heading back into the castle he would have worked up the courage to ask you to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, not a date but hopefully something like one.

~~~

Saturday came around in no time. That morning you had gotten up and got ready for the day. Your roommates were also going to Hogsmeade, so the room was buzzing with plans. Dressing in jeans, a light turtleneck jumper and ankle boots, with your hair put up in a messy bun and bangs brushed down. One of your roommates commented on your outfit, suggesting some lip gloss. She received a slap to her arm from another girl in the room, which confused you. But part of you thought it might have been a comment on your kiss with Mattheo. The girls in your room at first after the party, had given you looks while whispering. But it stopped soon after, making you think Pansy had gotten to them. Since then they have been nice.

Heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, you walked alone enjoying the peace. Everyone from your year that you passed were discussing Hogsmeade and their plans. Upon reaching the Great Hall, Pansy was talking with Draco and Blaise by the giant doors. Seeing you, she called you over to the three. Reluctantly you walked over to them.

"Morning Y/N/N!" Pansy greeted me with a bright smile.

"Morning" you replied to her and the boys with her.

"Y/L/N" Draco nodded his head to you. "We'll talk to you later Pansy". With that Draco and Blaise took their leave, and headed to the Slytherin table.

Pansy invited you to join her and a few of her friends for breakfast, which you decided to accept. Usually at breakfast you'd sit alone and read, be it school work or one of your books. Pansy and her friends talked every moment you all sat at the Slytherin table. Just down from them sat Draco and Blaise, Mattheo nowhere in sight.

Mattheo had slept in, waking to find his room empty. Upon seeing the time he got up quickly and rushed to get ready, he didn't want to miss breakfast. Once dressed he grabbed his jacket and headed for The Great Hall. Just about every female student he passed gave him the goo-goo eyes and flirty smile. No doubt half, or all, had been hoping he'd ask them to Hogsmeade. If he had to ask any girl in the school, there was only one choice. You; his antisocial bookworm.

Reaching the Great Hall, Mattheo smiled seeing there was still a decent amount of time to have breakfast. With a spring in his step, the thought of what he would eat this morning running through his mind, he failed to notice you sitting with Pansy and her friends. He took a seat next to Draco, clapping the blonde on the back. Blaise poured Mattheo some juice, while he started to put food on the plate before him.

“Cutting it close” commented Draco stirring his tea.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Mattheo said with a sigh. “Thought I’d have been woken up”.

Blaise smirked. “You looked very comfy, with a silly grin on your face. Wonder what you had been dreaming about”.

Mattheo choked on the juice he had just sipped, then coughed. “Bullshit”.

Draco laughed. “He’s telling the truth. So who were you dreaming about, huh? Maybe the recluse, antisocial bookworm”. Draco looked down the table from where they sat, gesturing to the person he had just mentioned.

Mattheo’s gaze followed where Draco’s was, and there you sat. So close, but still to far away. He watched how Pansy and her friends were talking, all the while you looked bored, probably wishing you had a book right then. A small, goofy smile formed on his lips, that didn’t go unnoticed by Draco and Blaise. The pair had been watching their friend closely since you were mentioned. They weren’t stupid. They could see a change in Mattheo since the party. And they figured the time on his own was an attempt to get close to you. Though he never got a chance alone with you.

Feeling like you were being watched you looked around, only to find those familiar deep brown eyes on you. When Mattheo finally made it to the table escaped you, and you had been somewhat aware of your surroundings. A small smile formed on his lips as you stared at him, knowing he had your attention. When had the dynamic shift between you? You had always been solitary, choosing to be separate from everyone else. Books replacing friendships & love interests, for it was easier than reality. But here you were, sitting with Pansy and her friends, have the attention of the Slytherin heart throb. The world must have fallen off its axes, & gone crazy.

"Ready to go?" Pansy's sudden question ripping your focus from Mattheo.

Looking at the girl next to you, you blinked a few times processing what was going on. "Ah…yeah" you said breathlessly.

Pansy and you got up from your seats, Pansy saying a farewell to her friends, before the both of you headed back to your dorms to get your coats for the walk to Hogsmeade. All the whole time you moved from your seat till you left the Great Hall, you could feel his eyes on you.

Mattheo was cursing Pansy for taking you away from him. That eye connection was the most interaction with you he'd had in a day. He wanted it to last forever, or till he could get to you and talk to you. But it was lost now. And so he took to sulking.

"Cheer up" Draco said, clapping Mattheo on the back. "You'll have another chance at talking with Y/L/N. Her and Pansy will be in Hogsmeade. I've already invited Pansy to The Three Broomsticks, so she'll be with her".

Hearing those words cheered Mattheo up. He'd have another chance, and get to have a butterbeer with you. Not to mention the walk back to Hogwarts. Getting up with Draco and Blaise, all three boys put on their coats and decided to start making their way to Hogsmeade.

~~~

The walk to Hogsmeade with Pansy had been pleasant. Of course the dark haired girl had talked for most of the walk, but you learnt more about Pansy and who she is as a person. And you even engaged more in conversation with her, which surprised Pansy but also made her happy. The first place you were dragged was a small clothing store. Pansy was looking for new gloves and socks. After that you were dragged to a store to get some potion supplies, which suited you well as you needed a few items yourself. Pansy had made some jokes from different items, which you found entertaining and laughed at. The banter between you two was flowing nicely, not forced.

You briefly stopped for something to eat before continuing on shopping. You even got to pop into the small bookshop owned by a lovely lady named Doris. She was a sweet lady, who got muggle books in and would give you first pick. There was a good selection of stock that came in, but you decided to buy Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. You were feeling the need for something different, something with sadness, passion and romance. Though the two books were different, both would please your needs. Once finished their Pansy suggested having a butterbeer, and you agreed.

Reaching The Three Broomsticks you both entered with a smile, removing your coats Pansy headed in further before you. Then you heard Pansy’s name being called by a familiar voice. Walking to Pansy’s side you were greeted with the sight of Draco and Blaise. You felt a sigh of relief leave your lips that it was just the two Slytherin’s. But a small part felt disappointed not seeing the deep brown eyes of Mattheo. It was best he wasn't there. He was probably on a date with some girl, more fitted to be his main girl then you.

Both you and Pansy took a seat at the table that was closest to the fireplace. Pansy filled both boys in on your day. And in turn they had spoken a bit about their own. Your focus went from those at the table with you to the other students in the establishment. It was a buzz with chatter and laughter. There were a few couples that were quite cosy together, and one couple that looked to be on a first date. The group at the back were laughing and cheering over something you couldn't hear, but it was infectious nonetheless. Emerging from the group was a mop of brunet curls before seeing a warm smile on his face as he dusted off his sleeves. Another male clapped him on the back.

Mattheo had been pulled in by a group of students, a heated discussion on the current Quidditch season so far this year. He had tried to get away from there for the last ten minutes, and finally making his break, upon looking up he was greeted by the sight of you sitting at the table he’d left Draco and Blaise at. Oh how you looked cute right now. Pulling himself together, Mattheo headed over to the bar and ordered three butterbeers before heading to his friends with the drinks in hand.

"About time you got back" commented Draco as Mattheo put the butterbeers on the table, and slid one to Pansy, who thanked him.

"Yeah, once they get started it's hard to escape" retorted Mattheo, sliding over a butterbeer while looking you in the eyes.

"Thank you" you said softly, taking the offered drink, to which Mattheo gave you a wink.

Oh how that wink affected you. Your heart fluttered and your stomach turned. You had seen him wink before; to friends or other girls. But to be on the receiving end of it, it was going to do you in. Then those dark thoughts crossed your mind, telling you that you weren't worthy of him. That he deserves someone better, a female lead that was beautiful and smart. Looking at the butterbeer in your hands, you only half listened to the conversation going on at the table. Focusing more on your negative thoughts.

Mattheo couldn't help but look at you, watch you after giving you the butterbeer. He was sitting across from you, you were finally close to him again. He wondered what was going on in your mind. What were you thinking about, maybe him. He hoped it was him. A small silly smile formed on his lips at the thought of you thinking of him. Slowly you looked up, both your gazes meeting. He'd almost forgotten how clear your Y/E/C eyes were, all the while you could drown in his deep brown eyes. This could be like a moment from your books. The way he looked at you, paired with the cosy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks. How you both didn't notice anyone else around you when you looked at each other. Something flashed in his eyes, you noticed. But you were unsure what it was. Mattheo on the other hand; the longer he stared into your eyes the more he knew that his crush was growing. He knew he liked you, and had to tell you in hopes you feel the same.

“Have you had a good trip to Hogsmeade?” Mattheo asked, finally saying something to you.

You nodded your head, “yes I have...Pansy and I went shopping”.

He smiled a lopsided grin. “That’s good. Did you buy anything?”

Again you nodded. “Yes I got some ingredients for potions, very boring. And a few books” you replied with a smile, thinking of your new friends that lay in a bag by your feet.

“Oh? What books?” Mattheo asked, genuinely interested, which surprised you.

With a small look of shock on your face, you brought the bag up and took out the books. “I got Wuthering Heights, and Jane Eyre. Both Muggle books, but I find them fascinating...”

Mattheo took both books, looked them over & had a quick read of the blurb on the back. If he hadn’t known you were one for romance or love, these books gave a small indication you were. Though there was love, there was distance and longing, as well as revenge and anger, mixed with some tragedy.

“They’re silly, I know...” you said softly, as you put the books away. “But I find them interesting”.

“It’s not silly. You are allowed to like what you do” Mattheo said, smiling warmly at you when you looked his way. “I have begun to get into books myself, even a few Muggle ones” he stated, whispering about the Muggle books. Knowing Draco and Blaise would not let him live it down if they heard him.

That surprised you. You hadn’t taken him for a fan of Muggle literature. Or really one for reading. Mattheo was the bad boy. A list of girls that he had snogged or done more, as long as one of Snape’s lectures. Of course you’d seen him read but that was school books or magical world literature. The few times you’ve seen Mattheo in the library was occasionally to study, or rather getting answers to class homework, but mostly when he was finding a quiet corner to snog a girl.

Before your conversation could continue, Pansy said it was time to go. But before going back to Hogwarts, she suggested a trip to the Shrieking Shack. The boys said they’d come with, saying you girls would need protection. Which Pansy scoffed at. The walk to the abandoned house didn’t take long; Pansy, Draco and Blaise up front, while you and Mattheo walked behind them in silence.

By the time you made it to the Shrieking Shack the sun was starting to set. The boys stopped a fair distance from the building, while you and Pansy moved closer. Seeing the boys had stopped you both turned around and looked back at them.

“Seriously? I thought you were here to protect us?” Pansy asked in a baby voice. That made you giggle.

“We-we are” said Draco, clearing his voice. “Happy to wait here and if anything happens we’ll come to your aid”.

Mattheo laughed at his friend. Clapping both boys on the backs, he stepped forward. “I’ll join you ladies, happy to protect you” he winked at you.

“Our hero” Pansy said with a smug smile before looking back at Draco.

The three of you walked closer to the building, stopped at the fence of the property. Pansy and Mattheo talked about the building, the history and the rumours of the shack. You looked around, observing the abandoned building. You tried to picture what it might have looked like, if a family had lived there or was it a single person. Then you started to think of how it would be described in a book. One could describe it as a deserted, forsaken or unoccupied run down building that was boarded up in an attempt to conceal its insides from the world or to keep the outside world out. The wind rustled through the building causing the most haunting sound to hit one's ears.

While you seemed distracted Pansy moved closer to Mattheo and whispered, “if you are planning to make any kind of move you better do it soon”.

Mattheo’s eyes widened, nearly popping out of his head. “W-what!?”

Pansy slapped his arm, “keep your voice down”. She glanced at you and saw you were still oblivious. “I know you like her. And she is nice, sweet and shy...so don’t break her heart, or else I’ll break your nose”.

“I-I” he spluttered. Not sure what to say, but he decided he couldn’t hide it from the girl before him. “Okay...I like Y/N. Do you think she likes me?” He sounded like a scared child.

Pansy offered a small smile. “I believe she does, but she’s different. She’s not like the usual girls you ‘date’ Theo” Pansy said with air quotes.

“Oh I know she’s different” he said looking at you, a loving smile upon his face.

Pansy giggled, “then go for it!”

Mattheo looked back to Pansy and nodded his head. He had to confess to you that he likes you. Talking to Pansy seemed to give him a confidence boost. He felt he could just about take on the world. He just hoped you wouldn’t reject him. Pushing down the fear of rejection, Mattheo collected his thoughts and was ready to do this. Pansy had suggested along the walk back to the castle that he pulled you aside and you both talked. And he agreed. They had a plan.

“Lets head back before it gets too late” Mattheo’s words brought you back to reality. Pansy agreed with him.

Meeting back up with Draco and Blaise, the lot of you started the trek back to the castle. Once again you and Mattheo brought up the rear. It was quiet between you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The light in the sky was almost gone as you came to the turn off on the main path that would take you into the Dark Forest. Pansy gave Mattheo a look before suggesting you stay with Mattheo, and watched the last of the sunset and the first stars.

Draco and Blaise started to protest but Pansy put an end to it, before the three took off and left you two on your own. Now on your own, you stood there unsure what to do. Alone with Mattheo. You had been doing your best to avoid him, and within a day you were back to a close proximity with him. And it was nice. You took a few steps along the path, closer to school, Mattheo not far behind you.

“Looks like a clear night sky” Mattheo commented looking up at the slowly darkening sky, and a few stars littering the heavens.

You stopped and looked back at Mattheo, before looking up to where he was looking. “Yes, I think so...”

Mattheo watched you talk, taking you in as you looked to the sky above. He noted how the almost faded light outlined your face, and highlighted your H/C locks. He gulped. You were stunning right now, you looked like an unearthly creature. When you turned, and your eyes met for the third time today. He was so close, closer then he had been. When did he get close? With one step Mattheo’s body would be just touching you. You felt your breath hitch at the thought, and your stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of him touching you.

“You look lovely today...” Mattheo said, wishing to kick himself. “Not that you don’t any other day!” His nerves were starting to rise.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Ah...t-thank you?” you asked breathlessly, unsure what else to say.

Silence settled in after that, leaving you both unsure and uncomfortable. Deciding enough was enough, you told Mattheo you were going to head back to the castle and started to walk on. Seeing his chance starting to slip, Mattheo quickly moved and grabbed your wrist with his hand.

“Wait!” he exclaimed in a panic. “Y/N, please wait. I-I need to talk to you”.

You turned to look at Mattheo, confusion on your face. “W-what is it Mattheo...?”

Oh his name leaving your lips, hearing your voice speak his name. It was music to his ears. “I need to confess”.

“Confess?” you questioned in confusion.

Releasing your wrist Mattheo stood up straight, taking a deep breath. Now or never. “Y/N...I want you to know that you are different, different good! Not different bad. I like that you keep to yourself, that you read books whenever you can. I like that you don’t listen to all the bullshit students talk, and choose to live in your own world”.

You looked at Mattheo in a slight panic, you had an idea where this was going and you were undeserving of him and his affections. “Mattheo, stop please! This isn’t right, I’m not right...for you”.

With those words you turned and started to head back to Hogwarts at a faster pace. Mattheo, stunned for a moment, was quick to go after you, calling your name. You continued to keep walking, ignoring his cries. Then you felt your arm being grabbed and Mattheo pulling you to a stop and looking at him, though you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth be a liar;

But never Doubt I love” Mattheo recited from memory.

‘Hamlet by William Shakespeare’ you told yourself.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep. The more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite”

‘Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare’.

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you” Mattheo said, bringing his hand up to cup your face.

‘Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin’ you thought as his hand touched your skin.

Realising that Mattheo’s hand was holding your cheek, along with great literature confession’s of the heart. Your mind was at a loss. What was happening? Has the world finally lost it? Or were you dreaming? The later more possible. But your mind could never come up with how good it felt to have his skin touching yours. Mattheo searched your eyes, trying to gauge what you were thinking or feeling.

“And finally, my own confession; I like you Y/N. I like everything about you, my antisocial bookworm. Or should I say my main girl”.

You felt your face warm up. You were right, he was confessing to you. He had recited words from books that you had read, which means at some point Mattheo had read them. Another surprise that he would have taken the time to do so. And then to give you his own, Mattheo Riddle, confession. Which was the best out of all of them.

“Are you sure?” You asked unsure.

He blinked before laughing. “Am I sure? Yes I am! I know I like you, I adore you. But do you like me?”

You gulped. “I-I...I do like you” you finally spat out.

The smile that crossed Mattheo's face was bright, it met his eyes and they twinkled with the starlight. He decided it was now or never. Mattheo stepped closer, leaning down closer to your face. This was it, you knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it. As his lips lightly touched yours, soft and warm he noted, you both felt a small spark. Drawing back he looked at you, seeing if you disliked the kiss or did not want him. But there was joy, happiness.

Not wasting time Mattheo went in for another kiss. This time pressing his lips firmer to your own. That spark was there again, but stronger. He felt your hands come up to rest on his chest, he feared you would push him away. But your hands gripped at his coat. Taking that as a sign to continue Mattheo brushed his tongue along your bottom lip, and you gingerly opened your mouth. Mattheo then deepened the kiss, taking your breath away and sending your mind into overload. Slowing down the kiss, Mattheo pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and looking into your eyes.

“I take this as you will go out with me? Or should we just skip to boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

You went red again in the face, something Mattheo was loving. He decided he would do anything to get that reaction from you, it was just too cute.

“What do you want...?” You asked him softly.

“Be my girlfriend Y/N/N” he answered with a cocky smile.

So you agreed. Making Mattheo the happiest he has ever been. And with that you headed back to the castle, first holding hands before Mattheo moved to wrap his arm around you, making you blush yet again. And though you were embarrassed, you were the happiest you could be. Maybe you weren’t a background character after all. You were the main girl, who got the main boy.

A/N: Constructive feedback welcome. Hopefully you have enjoyed this story. Also, like to thank my boyfriend for reading my story before I post them, and putting up with my fangirl ways lol.

#mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo x y/n

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my-castles-crumbling · 6 months

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Harry Potter (Drarry's Version)

Draco Malfoy and the Time Potter Didn't Shake My Damn Hand (Rude)

Draco Malfoy and the Time Everyone Thought Saint Potter Was The Heir of Slytherin (Idiots)

Draco Malfoy and the Time I Did Tell My Father About This (Potter Was Mad)

Draco Malfoy and the Time I Made Really Cool Badges to Fuck With Potter (Also Hot Quidditch Players)

Draco Malfoy and the Time I Finally Got Potter in Trouble (Finally!)

Draco Malfoy and the Time Potter Stalked Me For a Year (and I Secretly Liked It)

Draco Malfoy and the Time Potter Saved Me From a Madman and a Sentient Fire (but I Saved Him First, the Prat)

#harry potter fanfiction #draco x harry #harry potter #harry x draco #harry james potter #draco malfoy #hpdm #drarry #drarry fanfic

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pockets-full-of-roses-writing · 2 months

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Can’t Talk Right Now — Babysitting

brief summary: tom riddle wants to be in your presence. you have babysitting duties. he forces you to bring him along. wonder how that'll go..

[(very changed) tom riddle x reader; little to no use of y/n]

divider credits !

Tom Riddle is, at most, the coldest Slytherin you've ever met. He was the House itself. He wore his uniform with pride and passion, striding down the halls in his silver Prefect badge. His favorite part was patrolling down the halls and scolding the younger years. He loved it.

Riddle was very talented with his studies, too. He'd spend every waking moment either in the Library, in his classes, the Great Hall, or his dorm and he'd study. Top marks were all his papers read.

In fact, that's exactly how he met you. Rather, how you met him.

You were perfect. Good grades, a high average, and a good grasp on your subjects. So when you began getting confused in class, you knew you needed a quick solution.

You sought out Tom's help. He, at first, shot you down immediately. He saw you as a lower class. He barely knew you as it was so he didn't know exactly why he wanted to turn you down. After seeing your eyes and your pleading gaze, he gave in.

The two of you were study buddies, until he realized he liked your presence a lot more than he should. So? He quite literally obsessed over you. Spent his time (instead of studying his classes) studying you. He quickly learned all your habits and interests, using that too woo you.

Let's be honest. When a conventionally attractive man likes all the things you do and is wiling to talk about it, it's pretty hard to say no. The two of you have been dating ever since.

Your current dilemma? His constant urge to be by your side. At first, you loved it. Now, you still love it, but its a lot to handle. Especially when you took on the responsibility of babysitting.

"Why can't someone else watch their kids? Why do you have to go?"

"Tom, we've been over this. I'm doing it for my great aunt, she needs it."

"That old hag can call another babysitter. Love, c'mon, just cancel it. Please?"

You gave him a look, nudging his leg with your own. Tom Riddle, the coldest boy known in Hogwarts, was clinging to you like a child. He demanded you cuddle with him before you had to watch your baby cousin.

She was getting older and older. Soon you couldn't even call her a baby.

“Don’t call her that! It’s just three hours, darling. I’m sure you can wait that long for me?”

Tom huffed, crossing his arms. He withdrew his grip on you, pouting childishly.

“Tom!”

He glanced at you, then tilted his head upward. He looked rather posh now, something he had mastered over the years.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him to your chest. Sighing, you found a solution. It was a horrible idea, for Tom hated babies.

“Will you stop sulking if I let you come with me?”

Tom grimaced.

“That’s the only way you’ll get to be near me. Just saying~”

He now pondered the thought. He knew that you would never let him go. Especially if there were children around. There was no telling what he’d do. He could seriously teach this kids some bad things.

“Fine,” he hissed, pulling you into his embrace again.

He kissed the top of your head, a slight smile tugging his lips. “You’re lucky I love you, y’know.”

Around 7:30 PM, the two of you politely knocked on your great aunt’s door. To your forceful request, he wore something comfortable and pleasing to the eye. He wore a bright yellow shirt with his choice of black pants. You wanted your baby cousin to feel comfortable around him, not be scared.

Rapid footsteps approached the door. “Who is it?” your great aunt’s voice came from the door.

“Your babysitters for the night!” you called back, smiling at the peephole. There was a sound of locks turning before the door creaked open.

“Oh! Dearie! Thank you so much for- Who’s this fine gentleman?”

Her gaze scanned over your boyfriend, looking at him as if he were a threat.

“This is Tom! He’ll be helping me out with Eliana.”

She kept her eye on him, “Alright then.”

She smiled sweetly over to you, motioning for the both of you to step inside. The house was a mess; toys littered everywhere, stains on all the blankets, and the sound of a baby crying.

“I’ll be back around eleven. Dinners thawing out for you and your.. er.. boyfriend. You know what she likes,” your great aunt smiled tiredly, grabbing her keys and her bag. “Ciao! See you later, loves!”

The door slammed and locked, leaving Tom and you with the messy home. You turned to your boyfriend.

“I’ll get El, can you try to clean this up?”

He nodded, the two of you going to your respective places.

Your baby cousin was adorable, but problematic. She didn’t like the dinner your great aunt had left, demanding dinosaur nuggets. You tried calming her down, but she was so persistent.

Eliana was afraid of your boyfriend, too. Every time she saw him lurking, she was burst into tears. Tom didn’t know whether to rock her or slap her. Of course, you stepped in to make her happy again.

Tom had taken the duty of getting and making things, the home of her great aunt’s already looking spectacular.

“El, honey, do you want sauce with it?”

“Noo~”

“Okay, okay. Just give Tom five more minutes.”

“He’s- he’s taking soooooo long!”

“Honey, patience.”

Tom stifled a scoff, clearing his throat instead. You shot him a look. You, out of all people, knew what that sound meant.

This went on for a while. After dinner, you and Eliana played together. Tom hid himself doing the dishes. Eliana wanted to watch a movie? Tom hastily muttered something about cleaning up.

Your boyfriend was avoiding this adorable child, who was in a way better mood after eating. As soon as Eliana asked to do something she was going to need help with, Tom fled. Oh, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Tom? Love?” you called out, Eliana curiously perking up.

You heard a slight groan, but he answered.

“Yeah?”

“Could you watch Eliana for a bit? I just need to use the bathroom.”

Well, you didn’t have to before. But now you did. This was your way of saying, ‘Your selfish decisions have consequences.’ You smiled mischievously at him, and he knew. He knew what you were doing.

“But-”

“Okay thanks bye!” you quickly yelped, running away. That gave you a laugh from Eliana.

Tom and the young girl stared at each other, the sound of her music faint in the background. Eliana was the first to speak.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Tom.”

“Tom? But that’s not your name.”

Tom quirked a brow. “What’s my name then?”

“Love, obviously.”

She thought his name was love because of you. He smiled, then sat down beside her standing figure.

“Which one do you like best? Tom or Love?”

The small girl thought for a moment, sitting down beside him. “Tom. Love sounds like a dog!”

The two of them laughed and quickly adapted the situation. Tom played with her for about a couple minutes.

Then you came back wearily. “I’m back~!”

The two of them looked up, smiling immediately when they saw you.

It had been a successful plan, you thought, seeing the look in his eyes afterward.

The three of you played till the clock struck 7. Eliana looked down the moment she heard the strikes.

“You know what that means.”

“No!”

“El.”

“No!”

You sighed, looking at her stubbornly. “C’mon.”

Eliana crossed her arms and moved toward Tom. “I want him to help me.”

Tom looked down at the girl in surprise. You looked at your boyfriend proudly. “Sure, show him what you need to do.”

He looked up at you, confused. You just smiled back.

While the two of them left, you tidied the room. Her bed was ready for her, books laid out along her sheets. You laid down in her bed, exhausted.

The little girl ran into her room with a fit of giggles, jumping on top of you. You groaned playfully, holding her in your arms with a grin.

Tom knew, then, that he wanted this life with you. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the two girls that made his day brighter.

“So.. which book is first?”

The three of you went through all ten books, making Eliana laugh and smile. She was very tired afterward, sleepily making you promise that you wouldn’t leave her room.

You smiled, ruffling her hair as her eyes closed. You said nothing in return except, “Good night my darling.”

Pressing a small kiss to her forehead, you climbed out of her room. Tom was laying on the couch, the rooms spotless.

You laid partially on top of him, partially to the side.

“I am exhausted. Do you think she’ll come back any time soon?”

You heard Tom chuckle.

“I hope so. This couch might be my bed in a couple minutes.”

The two of you laid in silence. Then Tom broke it.

“Darling?”

“Mm?”

“.. Do you think we’ll have kids? Like El?”

You smiled, burying your head in his chest.

“I hope so,” your voice came muffled, but he heard it. Then he heard your soft snoring.

He turned the TV volume lower, kissing your head. With a small hopeful smile, he replied softly.

“I hope so too.”

A/N: so sorry this took so long! i was looking for a one-shot just like this but couldn’t find it for the life of me. so i made it myself (i love being a writer)!! hope y’all like it. it’s more on the long side i apologize. so sorry for people who use military time, i’m not quite sure what the time would be for you. (7:30 PM)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter microfic #lord voldemort #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #babysitting au #babysitting microfic #babysitting oneshot

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arthenaa · 1 year

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Roots - S.S & O.G

SEBASTIAN SALLOW X READER X OMINIS GAUNT

PLOT SUMMARY: After an eventful fifth year, Ominis and Sebastian seems to be the people who know the hero of Hogwarts the best. Approached by an interested third year, the two best friends seem to realize they don’t know anything at all about Y/N beyond school.

DISCLAIMER: Hogwarts Legacy Spoilers, Canon divergent, can be read as platonic or romantic, Scamander brothers and Leta Lestrange is in this, mentions of Fantastic Beast plot, (i rewatched fantastic beasts ok and i love the scamander brothers so bad and I love these boys sm so I’m putting them in one fic), setting is set on FB era but with the the same teachers in HL, mentions of bad home environment on MC’s past, MC is a half blood, MC vents her feelings, im mostly spewing shit out of my ass in this one, she/her pronouns and feminine terms are used.

Out of the trio, Y/N has always received the most attention. Due to her great efforts and contribution to the defeat of Ranrok and saving the wizarding world, eyes are constantly on her and whispers of her achievements flutter around the halls of the castle. This had never bothered Ominis and Sebastian of course. They had always seen you as the flustered and clumsy fifth year walking up to the podium to be sorted. You had always been the center of their attention. They had been with you through most of your ups and downs during your first year as a 5th year in Hogwarts. Stuck with you through various situations and had defended you from those who had tried to harm you and so they had the honorary badge of being called your “best friends.” They took pride in being the people closest to you and it would sometimes be borderline possessive according to Imelda Reyes but Sebastian simply rolls his eyes and tells her to bugger off. That was what they thought, until recently.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know anything about her at all?” Yrma’s face forms a look of disappointment. Ominis cringes at her tone before Sebastian makes a noise of disagreement.

“So?”

Yrma Greenland glances between the two as they stand in silence. The third year had been an avid fan of the Hero of Hogwarts after witnessing her magical prowess against raiders and poachers during an eventful night of trying to rescue a niffler. It almost made her cry as Y/N approaches her with an angelic smile. She had been trying to get to know more about Y/N Y/L/N and given that she was part of the Hogwarts School Journalism Club, it would be beneficial to her job as a journalist (definitely as journalist ….. and not for herself …) to know about her subject’s background.

“W-we do know stuff about her! Besides, why should we tell you? Isn’t this invasion of privacy?” Sebastian retorts as he leans against the pillar. Yrma rolls her eyes at the idiocy.

“I’m a journalist, I have to get information one way or another. What’s this stuff you know then?” She presses on.

“She likes monochromatic colors.” Ominis starts. “Quite skilled in Defence against the Dark Arts.”

“Loathes the pumpkin juice at the Great Hall. Has a specific chair in the common room that nobody dares to touch for some reason.” Sebastian adds. Ominis nods in agreement.

“When she’s nervous, she wrings her hands to keep her grounded. Loves to twirl her wand like a pen for some odd reason. A beast magnet. She can sleep anywhere as well. Did you know she once slept standing very still—“

“I do not want to hear about your obsession with Y/N Y/L/N.” Yrma halts Ominis’s ramblings about the witch with a furious look. “I’m talking about her background. Where’d she come from? Is she a half-blood, pure or muggleborn. THAT’s what I’m looking for.”

The two Slytherins look at the Ravenclaw with a baffled look. Yrma can only stare at them with an amused look.

“Seriously? Two years and you two don’t know anything?”

“I mean she hasn’t talked about it!” Sebastian tries to defend himself. He turns to Ominis who looks like Salazar Slytherin had asked him to commit crimes worthy of Azkaban. “Ominis? Did she tell you anything at all?”

“…I always assumed that she was muggleborn.”

“So I take that you know nothing at all?” Yrma sighs. A chill runs down both of their backs at the revelation. “Some best friends you two must be.”

Yrma grumbles in disappointment on not being able to get information about the Hero of Hogwarts before leaving the pair. Ominis and Sebastian only wallow in their misery in silence.

“I can’t believe this Ominis.” Sebastian’s voice is weak. Ominis nods in agreement. It was never brought up throughout your stay in Hogwarts. Everyone was also quite open with their backgrounds so it was never an option to be brought up in a conversation. Your achievements have overshadowed your personal background as a young witch. No one had even questioned your blood status or where you had come from. Sure it was discussed when you had first entered as a late student but that too had been overshadowed by the dragon attack you and Professor Fig had endured. Somehow, you had become something they knew so well and knew nothing about at the same time.

“At this point, I’m just curious about it.” Ominis breaks the silence. Sebastian glances at his friend before nodding. Why would you not bring it up though? You had experienced Sebastian’s family situation, listened to Ominis’s complaints about his crazy family. It should’ve been an opportunity to bring up but you had always listened rather than talked. Surely, you would’ve talked about it if you felt comfortable enough with them right?

Right?

_______________________________________________________________

“Why do you two looked like someone pissed in your butterbeer and manipulated you into thinking that it’s not piss?” Imelda Reyes looks down at the two Slytherin boys lounging in the common room with frowns in their faces.

“Gross. You needn’t be so crass on your comparisons.” Ominis groans. Imelda rolls her eyes as she sets her broom down beside the couch before sitting in front of the fireplace.

“I hear people from the ministry are coming to visit.” Imelda starts as she looks back at the two. “Some sort of assessment, I suppose.”

“From the ministry?” This catches Sebastian’s attention. “Why?”

“Not sure.” Imelda shrugs. “I think it’s because of Professor Hecat and her assistant. What’s his name?”

“Dumbledore.” Ominis flatly replies from his seat on the couch.

Imelda furrows her eyebrows as she stares back and forth between the two. “Seriously? What is the problem with you both?”

Ominis sighs before properly sitting up. Sebastian on the other hand continues to flail in his seat. The young Gaunt feels his wand as he contemplates his thoughts before asking Imelda a question.

“Do you know anything about Y/N?”

Imelda tilts her head in confusion. “She’s a Slytherin and gifted with the broom—Wait, why are you asking me that question? Shouldn’t you two know the answer?”

“Not that, Imelda.” Sebastian chimes in as he sits up, elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “I meant about her as a person.”

Imelda falls silent for a few moments before she lets out a huff of amusement. “Merlin.”

“Right?!” Sebastian whines before slumping back on the couch. “I don’t understand how we both barely know anything about her despite knowing her for 2 years. I mean, I knew Ominis wet his bed when he was 9 within the first 3 months of my first year!”

“Sebastian!” Ominis flushes in embarrassment. Imelda chuckles at the information.

“Well, I mean. The gal’s a powerhouse. I doubt people would be focused about her roots rather than her achievements.” Imelda replies. “I thought you two would know more about her considering you two hover like a hawk.”

“I do not do that.” Ominis retorts. Imelda nudges his knee before laughing.

“Yeah, didn’t know you were quite humorous, Ominis.” Imelda teases. Ominis turns his head towards her, sending a glare to her direction.

“I’m just kind of concerned why she hasn’t told us anything…” Sebastian quietly responds as he watches the fire flicker in front of him.

“Well, guess you’ll just have to find out then.” Imelda grins as she notices a familiar figure walking over to them. The two sulking wizards were too busy with sulking, not noticing the subject of the conversation standing in front of them. Y/N looks at Imelda for context and the Quidditch player only shrugs before standing up and grabbing her broom. She pats Y/N’s shoulder as she passes by her before whispering a “good luck” as she’ll definitely need it. Y/N only looks at Imelda’s disappearing figure in confusion before turning to her dearest friends.

“Ominis? Sebastian?” Her voice shocks both boys as they flail around to sit properly.

“Merlin’s beard. You scared us.” Sebastian massages his pounding chest as you only chuckle in amusement. Sebastian’s not sure if it’s because you scared them with your arrival or it’s because seeing you that his heart seems to pound out of his chest. You sat in between them, squeezing Ominis’s arm to acknowledge his presence.

“Where were you? We didn’t see you at DADA.” Ominis says as he feels for your hand, grasping it in his palm before interlocking your fingers together. You can only lean your head back, eyes closing due to exhaustion.

“I was with Professor Black. Got called up for something important.” You sigh as you squeeze Ominis’s palm. A hand begins to pet your hair causing you to open your eyes and look at the culprit. The Sallow boy only smiles as he presses a soft kiss against your temple.

“The headmaster himself, huh? That’s the hero of Hogwarts for you. Always in for something important.” Sebastian teases. Y/N rolls her eyes, shoving him lightly.

“Stairs are a crime. If only I could just travel the castle on a broom.” You complain.

“Imelda’s been there, done that. Detention for a month, I recall.” Ominis leans his head on your shoulder, basking in your lovable scent.

“You battle trolls for breakfast and all it takes is a bit of stairs to rough you up?” Sebastian laughs as he continues to play with your hair.

“Oh, shut it, Sallow.” Soft laughter, escape your lips before a comfortable silence engulfs the three of you. It would’ve been comfortable had there not been a nudging thought banging against the heads of both boys. Sebastian feels a soft nudge against his shoulder, causing him to look over at the Slytherin descendant. An encouraging look is plastered on his face, and Sebastian internally groans at it.

“Hey, Y/N. We have something to ask you abou—“

“Is Y/N Y/L/N here? You’re needed by Professor Weasley!” A student had shouted out in the common room. The young witch groans before sitting up. The opportunity of asking leaves before Sebastian can even grasp it.

“I’ll see you both later in the Undercroft, okay?” Y/N smiles before placing a kiss on both of their foreheads. She then dashes off to Professor Weasley, leaving the two in silence.

“You should’ve asked faster.”

“How should I know?!”

______________________________________________________________

“She should be here by now.” Sebastian taps his foot against the marbled floor. Ominis can only lean against the pillar. The two had been out of their minds ever since the incident with Yrma Greenland. At this point, they just want to spend time with you. Having finally decided that you would eventually tell them on your own terms as they had done with theirs.

Humming distracts Ominis as he hears the tune from the DADA classroom. Leaving Sebastian grumbling on his own, he lets his wand guide him to the sound. The humming grows louder as he softly pushes the door open. He senses a person inside, unfamiliar to that of Professor Hecat and the new assistant. A gasp signals Ominis that the person has acknowledged his presence.

“The classrooms are restricted at this hour. You’d have to go to the Faculty area to talk to Professor Hecat.” He calmly talks as he senses his the person’s figure in front of him.

“I-I don’t mean to intrude. I was just looking around.”

“As I said, these rooms are restricted at this h—“

“It’s alright, she’s with me.” A new person enters the room. A man, Ominis thinks.

“Apologies for being rude, but who are you?” Ominis sighs. The man chuckles as he feels him walk towards the other person, a woman. About to introduce himself, another presence enters the room.

“Ominis! You left again without saying anything.” Sebastian grumbles annoyed. Ominis looks away from the direction of his voice, not responding to his sudden disappearance. The Sallow boy then glances to the other two people in the room. A man and a woman stood in the classroom, casually staring at the interaction between the two of them. They were dressed formally and seemed far different from how their teachers normally dressed. This must be the ministry visit Imelda was talking about, Sebastian thinks.

“I take that you’re from the ministry?” Ominis reads Sebastians' thoughts. The Sallow turns to him in amusement. “I notice that your presence is unfamiliar.”

“You’re correct.” The man answers. “We’re here for an important matter. We were once students like you and my fiancé wanted to roam the halls in nostalgia.”

The woman smiles at him. “I was also Slytherin, like you two.”

The man steps forward, moving closer to the two boys. “I assume Ominis here is a Gaunt? I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your father from time to time. It’s nice to see his son growing well here in Hogwarts.”

At the mention of his father, Ominis cringes to which Sebastian nudges his side. The man laughs at the look. “Understandable.”

Before the conversation could escalate further, two new voices were heard nearing towards the classroom.

“I’ve told you multiple times. We could’ve done this visit on a free day! Not during a day of classes, Newt!”

“You tell me as if I planned this whole thing.”

“Even if you didn’t, you probably instigated it. Everyone knows Theseus has a brother complex.”

“You know we can hear you right?” The man in the room yells before silence engulfs the halls. The door to the classroom opens and Sebastian looks back in shock to see Y/N with another man.

“Sebastian? Ominis? What are you two doing here?” You rush over to them. Ominis relaxes at your voice. You look back at the two other figures in the room. “This is an awkward sight.”

“Awkward? Really? We’re your family.”

“Soon to be. My sister still hasn’t married you.” You snorted. The two turn their heads fast as a Thestral towards you.

“Sister?!” The Slytherin boys exclaimed. The woman smiles at the interaction. You smile sheepishly before looking at the three other people in the room.

“I suppose introductions are in order.” You start as you stand in between the two. You point your hand towards the taller of the two. “The man you first met is Theseus Scamander, Head Auror of the British Ministry of Magic.”

Theseus waves his hand before saying a quick hello. Your hand then points to the shy male standing near them. “This is Newt Scamander. Magizoologist. The Scamander Wrote our material for Beasts class.”

Ominis gasps in recognition before bowing in respect. The magizoologist reaches over to pat his shoulder.

“This is Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt, my best friends.”

“And my sister, Leta Lestrange. Theseus’s fiancée. Works in the ministry as well.” Your eyes lock with Leta, who smiles proudly. You return an awkward smile.

"You're a Lestrange?" Sebastian whispers in shock.

"Well, half. We have different mothers. Mine's a muggle. Hence my different last name— but yes, essentially, I am a Lestrange." You reply quietly. Ominis and Sebastian acknowledge the new information in silence. You then turn towards the three and motion your hands to your friends.

“I-It’s nice to meet you all.” Sebastian smiles. The three smile at them.

“I suppose Y/N’s taken care of well then.” Leta moves closer to the two. Grasping both of their hands. “I’m grateful that my sister is in good hands.”

“Leta…” You flush at your sister’s words. Leta only pinches your cheeks.

“I suppose the two of you can join us tomorrow!” Leta turns to the Scamander brothers who nod in agreement. “We’ll be roaming around in Hogsmeade with Y/N. We’re hoping the two of you could join us. I want to learn more about you.”

Before the two could agree, Y/N intercepted the conversation. “I can talk to them about it. Don’t worry. Don’t you three have more important matters to discuss with Dumbledore and Hecat?”

She glances at Newt for help who moves quickly to grab his brother out of the room. The older protests but lets his brother drag him out. Leta laughs softly at the sight before walking over to Y/N and pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod in agreement before watching her leave the room. Once their footsteps fade away, you turn towards the two who stare at you for explanation.

“I know I haven’t talked much about my family—“

“You haven’t talked about it at all actually.” Ominis retorts. He sighs before moving close to you. “I didn’t mean to come off rude but I suppose we were kind of in the dumps earlier after realizing we knew nothing about who you were. It never even crossed our minds and I feel like we’re kind of bad friends because of that.”

“No! what are you talking about? You two are the greatest friends I’ve ever had.” You cup one side of their cheeks with your palms. “The fact that you two stuck beside me and treated me equally despite not knowing a thing is one of the many reasons why I hold you two dearly in my heart. It never really crossed my mind before about family because I had only just recently found out about Leta.”

Your hands slowly drop from their cheeks to hold their hands. You take a deep breath before looking up at them. You suppose after all that they’ve gone through and the fact that they fully confided themselves in you, the least you could do is tell them the truth.

“What do you mean?” Sebastian rubs his thumb against your knuckles. They comfort you in small gestures. Ominis in interlocking his fingers with you and Sebastian with his concerned gaze. They listen but don’t pry. It makes tears well in your eyes with how understanding they are.

“Before the start of my first year as a 5th year, before I met Fig. I originally lived in an orphanage. In the care of a muggle. I lived most of my life there, not caring where I had come from or who I was. People there said and did bad things.” You bit your lip as you recall the memories. Living there had been so bad. No one cared about you or the other children. The adults there only did their job and never took care of you. “Leta had been trying to find me for years with the help of Theseus and Newt. Luckily enough, an Auror who had been stationed near the orphanage had seen traces of magic. When Leta found me, I had been close to becoming an obscurial.”

Ominis and Sebastian huddle closer to you as you look down to the floor. “They had immediately taught me how to hone and express my magic despite being a late bloomer. Then they contacted Hogwarts and with the guidance of Professor Fig, I was agreed to be accepted as a 5th year.”

You look up at them with teary eyes. “I didn’t tell anyone because I wanted to start anew. I still had time processing everything and what happened during my 5th year didn’t really help either but I had you two.”

You hugged them tightly. “You two became a foundation that helped me become who I am today. So, I think that you two are the best people I could ever ask for.”

Sebastian laughs softly before hugging you back. Ominis leans his head towards yours before rubbing your back softly. “Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us this.”

You press a soft kiss to their cheeks as you pull back enough to look at them but still stay in their embrace. The two of you hug in comfortable silence before pulling back.

“Now that that’s out of the way. Why don’t we head to the Undercroft to hangout?” You smile mischievously. A bottle of fire whiskey appears on your hands. “I got this bad boy from Theseus.”

“I suppose having connections to the Head Auror has its perks huh?” Sebastian teases. Ominis shakes his head as he follows the two out of the room.

“Might as well go all out.”

________________________________________________________________

A/N: I hadn’t posted in a while so forgive any mistakes. I had just started playing HL (pirated it ofc) and had rewatched Fantastic Beasts so why not mush them all together HAHAHA. lmk your thoughts!

#ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis #ominis gaunt #fantastic beasts #harry potter #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader

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