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cutielando · 8 months

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cry me a river ~ harry potter

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Harry Potter.

Also known as the boy who lived.

Also known as the boy who broke your heart into a thousand pieces and stomped on it.

You had been together for 2 years, having been friends ever since you could walk. You did everything together, spend every moment with each other.

But it wasn't enough for him.

He needed more, felt like he was wasting time with you when he could have someone worthy of the chosen one.

What a hypocrite.

From the moment you broke up, you tried to act tough whenever you would catch his eye, try to show him that you weren't as affected by the break up as he had hoped.

But you were wrong.

You were broken, getting more and more tired every day from having to put on a fake smile every morning and pretend like you weren't dying on the inside.

Only one person could see through your charade. Hermione. The girl that you didn't know what you would do without.

She was always there for you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart, always there to make sure you didn't stop taking care of yourself, that you were eating and staying healthy.

Harry had negatively surprised her when he broke up with you, so she distanced herself from Harry and Ron and spent almost all of her free time, which admittedly wasn't much, with you.

"You know, I have a proposal for you" Hermione said to you one day when she appeared in your shared dormitory.

"What is it?" you put down your book and paid attention to the smiling girl.

"So, I know you're still hung up on Harry, and you're trying to put up this front that you don't care anymore. If you really want to move on and show him what he lost, I think you should consider starting dating again" she said all in one breath, which made it a little hard for you to follow her.

But you did. And you were surprised that it'd taken her so much to propose the idea to you.

"I was wondering when you were going to suggest that" you said in a small voice, staring at a spot on the wall.

"I figured I would wait a little more, let you get back on your feet a little" she explained, putting a hand on your thigh.

You looked at her and saw the sincerity in her eyes. She meant well, you knew that, but you just weren't sure dating was the right thing for you at the moment. Not after the whole fiasco with Harry.

"I don't know what to say"

"I'm not trying to pressure you into doing anything right now. I was just suggesting it" she quickly said, thinking that you misunderstood her.

"I know, Mione. Don't worry" you put your hand on top of hers and thought about it for a second. "You know what? You're right. I have to stop mopping around and feeling like hell all the time. I have to do something for myself"

"Yay!" she squealed and pounced on you, hugging you tightly.

You laughed and hugged her back just as tight, your thoughts drifting to different things.

You didn't know if you made the right choice, but you couldn't sit around all day and not even make an effort to move on from Harry.

You will get back to your old self and take care of your needs. No more putting yourself in second place. You're the priority.

♡♡♡♡♡

You didn't think things would work out the way they did.

It had only taken a month for you to get back on your feet. You had got back to your old self, you were taking care of yourself both physically and mentally, you hang out more with your friends who are just as happy to see you better.

You still weren't talking to Harry, but the tension that was between you had somewhat eased. You didn't avoid eye contact anymore, you greeted each other on the corridors and that was about it.

As for your love life, well that's another story. After much thought and consideration, after finally making the decision to open up your heart again, you began a relationship with Fred Weasley.

It was unexpected, to say the least, even for you. You had always been close to Fred, but something more developed after you began hanging out daily, laughing at his jokes and him helping you heal, on your own terms.

He helped you so much, not pressuring you into anything you weren't ready for, listening to you rant after having a bad day, helping you learn how to love yourself again. He was an angel, just the person that you needed.

You were finally happy and free of the negative thoughts that clouded your mind after Harry, and there was nothing that could ruin that.

Or so you thought.

♡♡♡♡♡

It was a warm Saturday night, the common room was deserted except for you and Fred. You were laying on the sofa, your chests pressed against each other as well as your foreheads. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck while his were wrapped around your waist.

"Um, sorry, I didn't know you were down here" you head a voice say from above you.

You turned your head to the side and were met with Harry. He was looking awkward as ever, which made you tense up.

Fred sensed it and began rubbing soothing circles on your waist, which helped calm you down.

"Can I talk to Y/N for a minute?" Harry said, breaking the thick silence.

Fred looked at you for a moment, waiting for your answer. You nodded, kissed his lips and watched him climb the stairs to his dormitory.

You got up and straightened your back, not looking into his direction.

"What did you want to talk about?" you asked, keeping your tone neutral and void of emotion.

"I, uh, I wanted to see how you were doing" he said, taking hesitant steps towards the sofa you were sitting on.

When he saw you weren't commenting, he took a seat at the far end of the couch.

"I'm fine" your response was short, which was something you were certain he was expecting.

"That's good. I'm glad you're doing better"

"Is that all?"

He didn't speak for a moment.

"Actually, no. I've been going over this in my head for a couple of days, and I think you deserve an explanation as to what happened between us"

His words made you freeze. This was the least thing you were expecting. Of course you wanted to know what happened, why he chose to break your heart and what changed in such a short while. But the timing just wasn't right. You finally got back on the right track and now this happened.

"I'm listening" you managed to say after realizing you had been quiet for some time.

"Okay" he cleared his throat before getting into the story. "I don't know how it started, but all the attention I was getting because of Voldemort sort of got to my head. I was feeling superior to everyone, thought I was too good to be hanging out with my friends, and I felt like our relationship was keeping me from reaching a further point into my stardom. I realize that what I did was completely wrong and you can't fathom how awful I feel for the way I treated you. You deserved none of it and I acted like a complete idiot. It wasn't fair, and I am sorry"

You finally looked him in the eyes and saw that they were full of tears. Seeing him crying made tears well up in your own eyes, but you didn't want to show emotion in front of him.

"Your timing sucks" you let out a little chuckle, which made the corner of his mouth move upwards. "You can't understand how you made me feel, what kind of pain you put me through. I didn't sleep for weeks, I was beating myself up for not being good enough for you. Nothing that you just told me justifies your behavior"

"I understand that and it was never my intention to hurt you. I love you, and I would do anything to see you happy. Even if that means letting you go forever"

"I'm happy, Harry. I'm finally happy after being in despair for so much time. I loved you, I really did, and I thought we had something special that would last. But it wasn't the case, and that's okay" you put your hand over his, feeling his soft skin.

"Yeah, maybe we're just not meant to be" he whispered, tears running freely down his cheeks.

"I'm willing to put the past behind us and try to be friends. But there is never going to be anything between us again. I just got back on the right track and I don't want to risk getting hurt again just for the sake of the memories we have together" your voice wasn't louder than a whisper, mainly because you didn't trust your voice.

"I'd like that"

No more words were exchanged between the two of you, and after a minute of silence, you got up and made your way up the stairs to Fred's dormitory.

You opened the door and saw that the other boys were asleep and Fred was waiting for you, his torso up and resting against the headboard.

You didn't say anything as you climbed into bed with him, burying your face into his chest and letting out quiet sobs.

Fred knew there was no need for talking. He just held you and let you cry, rubbing circles on your back.

You were crying a whole river, finally feeling relieved after closing that chapter of your life. You finally felt like you had some peace of mind, knowing the true reason why your life turned upside down.

But, on the brighter side, the whole situation made you realize how strong you actually were, how much you could actually swallow.

Your heart felt at peace, your mind was serene, everything was perfect.

And to think, all it took for you to be happy was get your heart broken.

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flauberries · 1 year

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home | sebastian sallow x f!player character

He’d very much like to savor the feeling of her body so close, in this room that he can only describe as home. It is, as they say, where the heart is. And this heart in his arms has stood by his side since the very beginning.

Of all the common rooms throughout the castle, the loungers in Slytherin’s must surely be among the most uncomfortable seatings. Remarkably, when one spends his time upon the emerald-green chaise whilst babbling with a classmate about the injustices of weekend assignments and scrolls – or perhaps whilst thumbing through a book plucked fresh from the deepest bowels of the restricted section – Sebastian Sallow finds the arrangement plenty plush and aptly accommodating to his needs for rest and respite. When lost in his mind and the thoughts confined within, which yearn to burst from his tongue during the frequent nights wherein sleep does not come to him, the lounger beneath him is a bed of nails; sharp, and twisting into the nerves of his spine.

In spite of the heaviness behind his eyes, his body positively throbs with an unspent energy that would have been welcomed greatly during this morning’s potion class. Sebastian counts the crackling of oak splinters in the fireplace. His face grows hotter with each passing moment spent before the blaze. A cacophony of girlish laughter reverberates from the dormitories up the stairs. A door opens moments thereafter, and a set of uneven footsteps echo from the tunnel-like walls, against the grating of the bridge. They do not belong to Imelda Reyes – she doesn’t wear those buckled heel shoes. It could be Nerida Roberts, Sebastian decides, or even Violet McDowell. Certainly not a first year. Whoever it is does not carry herself with such grace.

Oh, he had forgotten about Grace Pinch-Smedley.

“Sebastian?”

He turns quickly. While it goes against no rules nor prohibitions to invite members of the other houses into the common room (albeit a taboo to be sure), the sight of Daphne takes him by the upmost surprise. Her hair has, at some point during the night, fallen from its patented bun at the base of her neck; he never knew her mane was so long, so abundant. Parted down the center now – wild and creased from bondage – her blonde hair radiates in the fireplace’s glow and takes on a copper twinge. The red hue of her cheeks bleeds beneath the worn powder pressed upon her skin. Her white uniform blouse has been unbuttoned twice from the top and remains barely tucked into the belt of her pleated skirt – no necktie nor quilted vest to be seen. The buckles of her shoes are undone because she hastened to slip them on in making her escape from Imelda’s bed.

“Well, well,” Sebastian starts as he beckons her to join him. She takes the cushion without hesitation; she reeks heavily of wine, but not unpleasantly so.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She beams brightly and reaches to pull him beside her. A pocket of dried burgundy pools in the cracks of her lower lip. He could very well wipe it away with the flesh of his thumb. As if she can feel his stare, Daphne brings the back of her hand to her mouth.

“Imelda and the girls invited me to spend the evening with them,” she explains.

She is trying far too hard to sound straight.

“To . . .” she trails off in some sphere of contemplation, “alleviate our compatriotic stress, you know.”

“I see. And does this ‘alleviation of compatriotic stress,’ as you put it, involve some forbidden indulgences?”

Only then does she shy away.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I must look horrible, don’t I?”

“Not at all,” Sebastian insists. “You simply look like a young woman who has earned the right to some fun and frivolity.”

Satisfied with his answer, and a hum tickling her teeth, Daphne slackens against the backing of the lounger. There is a stain upon her bosom, and it matches the color of her lips. Her right knee bounces up and down, her heel abandoning its shoe underfoot; her skirt jostles and rides up her bloomer-clad thigh, inching closer and closer to the place where her legs meet. She must not realize what she is doing, and heavens, her garters are slipping. Beneath the odor of wine, there is an inkling of jasmine. She observes the fire and puffs her cheeks to stifle a belch. He knows he ought not marvel at her, and yet he finds that he cannot help himself. Never, Sebastian realizes, has he seen her in such a state. So pedestrian. So shambled.

So perfectly imperfect.

“I’ve not been sleeping,” she confesses suddenly, and her knee stills. There is a silence now, in the absence of her ruffling.

“I’ve counted sheep and paced my dormitory for hours. Tried to think myself into exhaustion, held my breath, gorged myself . . . At this point, the only thing I’ve yet to try is a sleeping draught. Professor Sharp cautioned me, but what have I left to lose?”

Sebastian frowns.

“That’s why I came here tonight,” Daphne continues. “Imelda assured me that a bottle of wine would do the trick. Lull me right to sleep, she said.”

“But you’re wide awake,” Sebastian counters.

“Absolutely wired.”

A string of deep voices sound from the central stairwell. Sebastian reaches to pull her skirt back over her knee; she doesn’t protest, though she jolts when his pinkie grazes the hot flesh of her knee (truly, however, she cannot feel his touch through her stockings). A group of older boys, who come about as seemingly unaware of the pair (or they simply care little to bother acknowledging them), descend and make their way to the dormitories.

“For what it’s worth,” he says once the boys are no longer within earshot, “I’ve not been sleeping either.”

“I’m sorry, Sebastian.” And she means it – else, she wouldn’t say otherwise. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“Don’t say that.”

It comes a bit terser than he intends. He takes a moment to collect himself as Daphne flinches; his belly falls, and suddenly, there are two fingers against his temples. Phantom limbs, but pressing all the same.

“You’ve likewise suffered demons,” Sebastian clarifies. “You needn’t make light of your situation. It isn’t good for the spirit.”

She nods.

Daphne has, for as long as he has known her, always been this sort of individual – the kind to toss her troubles beyond and below, as if nothing. Always the sort to drop anything, and quite possibly everything, if only to appease another. Why else would she delay her first sojourn beneath the clock tower for dueling practice (how restive he felt as he waited for her), if not to retrieve the tempestuous Zenobia Noke’s blasted gobstone collection? It had taken Imelda a fortnight to hide them all. What of the bells in the tower above the music classrooms? Or that damned over-sized tentacula leaf for Puffskein Dunskein? Yes, it was quite a clever nickname, thank you very much. There was the matter of that mermaid artifact for Nerida; the Slytherin girl was rather eager to present the necklace to her peers, and although not so keen on confessing her ineptitude for swimming, she spoke of Daphne’s altruistic propensity with the upmost regard. Never mind that the necklace would have looked much better draped around her neck, Sebastian thought, when Nerida dangled it before him. He shan’t forget the way the aquamarine pendant sparkled beneath the light.

He shan’t forget the time she dove into the lake to retrieve that wretched astrolabe for Grace, either. Daphne returned to the castle a soaking, shivering mess. And she hadn’t the decency to ask for a damned thing in return.

“Sebastian?” she calls, tearing her gaze from the fireplace and staring him down; intent, keen, and fully serious. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you. Or, somewhere, I should specify.”

There is a lump in his throat that he does not feel until he swallows.

“It’s getting late,” he says, atypically cautious and certainly unlike himself. “Wouldn’t want to get caught by a prefect in your current condition, would you?”

“In my current condition?” Daphne asks. “What about you? Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You sound a bit like Ominis, and it doesn’t suit you.”

The brunet boy gawks at her. Sounding like Ominis? Sebastian Sallow? Never.

“Besides . . .”

She pushes herself from the lounger, sways, and buckles forth into the tea table. Sebastian jumps to his feet as his arms move to brace her – one beneath the crook of her farthest, and the other falling upon the bent elbow that hovers above a ruined game of chess. The ceramic pieces knock against each other. Her blouse is soft and unpilled, and the flesh beneath blisters.

“There’s no time like the present.”

He must imagine the flash of green upon her eyes. A trick of the light, and nothing more. Daphne straightens herself and steps around the table.

“Give me your hand, will you?”

Wordless, Sebastian takes her waiting fingers, and his palm finds purchase with hers. The faintest of callouses mar the thickest parts of her hand (she wears her leather gloves for trysts of wand mastery); whatever balm she uses preserves her skin well, he thinks, for she is smooth like a fanciful of bed linens and lovely silk dresses. Their bearing is not quite enough until she traps his fingers with his own and tugs him forward. The stack of demitasses atop the table rattles.

Properly disillusioned, she leads him from the spiraling staircase of the Slytherin common room to the landing just below the highest peak of the astronomy tower, their hands only departing from the other when Sebastian hastened to flip his wand towards a poorly placed pile of books to distract a wayward prefect who was absolutely certain that he had caught a glimpse of blonde hair below the trickling of moonlight from the tower windows. Their excursion must have been sobering enough, if not for the practical drowning in the girls’ bathroom when Daphne insisted that she was simply too parched to carry on. Sebastian didn’t mind holding her hair back as she cupped her hands beneath the running faucets and lifted the spilled water to her stained lips. Her pomade smelled of bergamot and black tea. And, as always, jasmine.

Now, in the astronomy tower, Daphne ushers Sebastian to turn around to face the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, who proudly dons his robin’s egg ensemble and wields his ivory baton towards the trolls he means to teach ballet.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Sebastian asks. “It’s quite silly, I suppose, but impossible to miss on your way to astronomy. It’s hardly much of a secret.”

“No, I didn’t drag you here to show you a tapestry,” Daphne huffs. “Just stay there for a moment, and don’t turn around.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And so, arms crossed and admittedly feeling a bit indignant, he stares at the tapestry. He memorizes the pattern because there is not much else for him to do. First, the troll in the back left attempts what Sebastian imagines is a plie, and then the plie-esque troll’s neighbor throws his weight forwards and his arms above his head. Not quite graceful, though not quite gauche, either. The third troll, the closest to Barnabas, scratches his chest before bringing his club down atop the man. Barnabas rises, unphased and hardly discouraged; only a moment later, however, and the fourth troll likewise crushes him with a bone that must have come from a dragon’s femur. In the background, just beyond the tree line and the mountain ridge, is Hogwarts.

Barnabas stands, conducting away, and the first troll plies again.

Stone grinds behind Sebastian. He isn’t surprised in the least bit to learn that Daphne has discovered the Room. It’s nothing more than a hovel for bits and pieces, and the ordinary rubbish of a well-spent domesticated life. He had fooled himself once in believing he might happen upon a cure for Anne inside. No matter of wailing, browbeating, nor cursing could persuade the ceaseless Room to grant him the answer that he so tirelessly chased; or, rather, the solution to the utterly inconceivable problem that has rendered his sister a shell. There were no tomes filled with lost tonic recipes to dispel a curse derivative of the darkest arts, and certainly he found no vials filled to save him the trouble of reading – as if anything came so easily in life. At least there is comfort in knowing where to find a spare chair.

Sebastian turns. Daphne smiles at him, absolutely giddy and still under the influence of whatever cursed wine Imelda procured for the girls. Stolen from the kitchens, no doubt. He doesn’t mind looking after the Hufflepuff girl in this state, not really. Next time, he promises himself, he’ll join in her silly indulgence.

He could make a quip about the Room. However, when Daphne takes his hand for the hundredth time tonight and leads him to the door, he knows he won’t. He can’t bear to see that smile falter. Can’t bear to be the reason why.

“You and Ominis have your Undercroft,” she tells him, her fingers dancing just above the bronze door handle. “But this . . . This belongs to me.”

And it is nothing of a hovel at all, Sebastian realizes, as she pilots him into the moonlit aura of the great room. The floor is a brilliantly ornate marble – the walls a deep walnut and lacquered in gothic, emerald papering and filled with bookshelves and cabinets. The ceiling above is a glass dome and just beyond that is a reflection of the night sky – a perpetual full moon and its stars. White drapes cascade along the marble arches above their heads. He won’t ask her where those strange, illuminated doorways lead to; a coastal castle, or a swamp perhaps – they are but questions for another time.

“Well?” Daphne prompts. She falls upon a lounger tucked into a corner next to the entrance. Beneath the lounger is a botanical rug and above that, a tea table cluttered with a skull, a wayward tonic, and a set of quills.

“What do you think?”

“I think this reeks of favoritism,” Sebastian admits. “I had written this place off a while ago.”

He joins her now and finally, he has found somewhere to rest in earnest. The cushioning is soft and plush – well loved, unquestionably cared for, and tender.

“You’re probably right about that,” she acquiesces. “Professor Weasley thought the Room would be a fine place to catch up on my schoolwork. I suppose she didn’t approve of my extracurriculars.”

“I’m not surprised that this was her doing. She speaks fondly of you. Not to mention, we have her to thank for our foray into Hogsmeade at the start of the year.”

“Yes, and if not for her, you’d have been stuck in detention with Madam Scribner that day instead.”

It is Sebastian’s turn to grin.

“Despite the mess with those trolls and Rookwood, it was a grand trip,” he says. “Aside from Ominis or Anne, I can’t imagine that I’d take a lout’s bludgeoning for anyone else. If it were Leander with me, I’d probably take up arms with the trolls.”

He pauses.

“I think this room is wonderful, Daphne. Not becoming for a Hufflepuff, per se, and yet it fits you all the same.”

She cups her own cheeks to hide her blush. It could be that their journey has worn him into a proper weariness, or it may be that the lounger is commanding it of him, but Sebastian knows that if he only closes his eyes right now, he might doze off – next to his confidant and charge, who gazes upon him in such a way that inspires his want to pull her close and let her sleep in his arms.

He won’t do either.

“Will you stay here with me?” Daphne asks. “I know you’ve your own bed, and it’s selfish of me to say. I just don’t want you to go.”

She tugs on his arm, her bottom lip pouting just so. There isn’t much wine left in the crack of it.

“Now, now,” Sebastian begins, “who said I was leaving?”

“Stay with me. Please.”

Against his better judgment – and all semblance of self-control, for however much of it is left – he leans forward and brushes his lips against the crown of her head. He doesn’t catch the way her eyes flutter shut, nor the soft peak of her smile. Her fingers curl into her palm, perhaps to keep herself from tethering them against the lapels of his sleeping robe.

“I’ll stay here forever, if that’s what you want,” he mumbles against her hair. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

As you have been for me, in the brief time I’ve known you.

Sebastian decides that he could very well stay here forever. In this degree that can only be peace, pressed against the nook of the lounger with a lovely girl molded against his chest at last and her hair tickling the hair of his nose. Anne used to pester him ceaselessly about his snoring. If the universe is a fair maiden after all, then Daphne won’t mind. The truth is one that he knows all too well – he’ll just have to make sure she falls asleep first.

Amidst his thoughts, the Room begins the quake. Sebastian sits upright, his grip around Daphne growing tighter.

“What’s happening?” Sebastian asks, hiding his panic all too well. “Should we leave?”

“No,” Daphne insists, wide-eyed and alert. “The Room . . . It’s changing.”

The thunder comes from up the stairs, just past the windowed stretch of a reading nook.

“What do you mean, it’s ‘changing’?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she confesses. “Shall we go find out? I’m almost certain it’s nothing dangerous.”

Though Sebastian insists he ought to take the lead, Daphne marches ahead and ascends to the balcony; helpless to do nothing more, Sebastian clammers after whilst gripping his wand terribly close. In an alcove nestled between the peaks of the twin stairs is a hallway and within that passage appears a doorway bearing the same adornments, engravings, and talismans as the entry.

“Unless you were thinking about inflicting pain on either of us,” Daphne says, arms crossed, “you ought to put your wand away.”

“Why does it matter what I was thinking?” Sebastian questions.

“I can manipulate the Room and shape it into the very design I wish, just by anticipating it hard enough. I made a loo appear once when I nearly . . . Well, I won’t finish that, but just take my word for it.”

Sebastian slips his wand away.

“You should do the honors,” she tells him. “Go ahead. Open the door.”

And so, he does. Beyond the creaking door is an oaken floor laden with a threadbare rug decorated with embroidered flowers. There is a fireplace against the furthest wall, and its orange hue casts the only light upon the furniture in the new room – a dresser with bronze knobs, a pair of mismatched nightstands (one yew and the other painted green), a porcelain wash sink with a ceramic carafe, and lastly, a wrought-iron bed topped with thick pillows and a diamond-crossed quilt. The glass of the windows is frosted around the panes, and he can see the quidditch pitch in the distance where it stands out brilliantly against the beating snow. A clever illusion to cure the springtime blues; it hasn’t snowed in nearly three weeks. He has always loved winter.

Daphne looms over his shoulder, a strange grin upon her face; as for Sebastian, he feels utter mortification. Implications be damned – she must think him to be a wretched fiend of the highest perversions.

“I wasn’t expecting this, Sebastian.” He can feel her jaw pop against his shoulder. “Dare I ask why you’ve summoned a bedroom in myRoom?”

If ever there was a moment more opportune to be choked by his own tongue, now would be the time.

“I was just thinking about how tired I was,” he confesses. “How easily I could have fallen asleep on the lounger out there. I promise, I . . .”

He rubs his neck and prays that she cannot see the blush of his cheeks in the firelight, or the ring of perspiration at his hairline.

“It’s not that I don’t find you attractive –” slow down, “but I really am exhausted.”

He can feel Daphne her firm hands against his shoulder blades just as she pushes herself backwards. She is fidgeting with the beds of her fingernails, and she refuses to look at him.

“Well, go on then,” she says. “The Room knows what you need.”

Sebastian gazes around the bedroom again. There are a few paintings along the walls: an aged woman cradling a niffler, which bats about at the golden pendant draped about her neck; a landscape of a village, which can only be Feldcroft, turned golden with the kiss of autumn; and, to his chagrin, a shrunken version of the tapestry of Barnabas, although this one has taken the medium of a framed canvas. Sebastian detects the smell of tobacco and balsam from the fireplace, and the fragrance of vanilla and patchouli from the steadfast candle above the mantle.

He swears it is what his mother and his father smelled of – an unmerciful reminder of what has been stolen from the brevity of the life he has. He hardly remembers their faces. He won’t confess it.

As he approaches the bed, he notices a set of two teacups atop the closest nightstand. Steam rises from the cups, and a bowl of sugar with a silver spoon has been set down between them. Chamomile, he realizes, when he lifts the first cup to his face. He wasn’t meant to drink both.

Holding the second saucer out to the girl standing in the doorway, he speaks: “Will you join me?”

“In the bed?” she asks.

He nods.

“It wouldn’t be proper, Sebastian.”

“I’m not asking you to lie with me because I wish to spoil your virtue. I’m asking you to share the bed with me because I do not wish to sleep alone. You’ve asked me to stay tonight – this is where you’ll find me.”

Without another word, she steps forward to take the chamomile; too bashful to say yes, and too galvanized to say no. Sebastian has the bowl of sugar ready before she has the chance to ask for it. He knows how she takes it; two teaspoons and a rigorous stir. She drinks the sweetened hot tea, and the sentiment lingers in her brain. Her shoulders fall as she hurries to finish it. Satisfied, she sets the emptied saucer back down, and Sebastian’s is soon to follow.

“I feel overdressed,” Daphne admits. “Would you mind if I made myself a bit more comfortable?”

Her shoes have already been tossed across the floor.

“Not at all.”

She slips out of her pleated skirt and slips her loosened blouse from her arms. Her garments lay precisely where they fall. She unfastens her garters next and rolls her stockings down. With a few frustrated tugs, the metal clasps along the front of her corset come undone. She stands now only in her bloomers and her chemise.

“I haven’t a gown,” she says.

“Then sleep as you are,” Sebastian insists.

He drapes his sleeping robe over the foot of the iron bedframe. A few bruises in various stages of healing mar the bare skin of her arms and her legs – some of them a deep purple, one yellow, and others brown. Along her clavicle is the worst one; it looks to be the size of an outstretched hand, and it is the darkest of them all. Sebastian’s palm lingers above it.

“What happened here?” he asks.

She watches his hand.

“An Ashwinder,” she says.

“Did it hurt?”

What a stupid thing to ask.

“Yes.”

“Did you kill him?”

There’s that flash of green again.

“I did.”

His arm falls back to his side. Of course, the Ashwinder was dead. Otherwise, she’d not be here to speak of him. Sebastian ought to feel anger towards the one who inflicted such injury upon her, and yet he takes solace in knowing her capabilities. He knows better than to fear for her – one more trouble to keep him up at night.

He knows better, because he taught her how to be brave.

“It looks worse than it feels,” she insists, wincing, as she traces the outline of the nasty bruise. “It’s tender.”

Just when he believes she is sobering again, her knees buckle.

“Here, sit down,” Sebastian tells her as he pulls her towards the bed; he yanks back the quilt for her to slip beneath.

“I’m just a bit dizzy is all,” Daphne claims whilst settling against the pillow. “I think it’s the wine.”

“All the more reason for you to rest.”

He tries not to acknowledge the sudden warmth pooling in his belly as he slides in next to her and casts the blanket atop their bodies – hers considerably less clad. He has no right, he thinks, to see her in such a way. Satisfied on his back, Sebastian turns his head to look to the window just past Daphne. The conditions of the blizzard have shrouded the quidditch pitch now. In the next room, the windows portray an unclouded, starry night sky. The bedroom may as well exist in its own realm.

Daphne shifts beside him. Her head falls upon his chest, and her left arm drapes over his torso. Unprompted, but absolutely sure that it is the right move, Sebastian lifts the leg closest to her. She threads both of hers around the appendage and pulls him close. His tongue sticks to the roof of his dry mouth – his ears ring and crackle when he tries to swallow the nothingness at the back of his throat. The heat is almost unbearable now; perhaps he ought to clamber through the window and burrow himself in the snow just outside and hibernate away forever.

He'd much rather tuck his arm beneath her head and rest his hand on her bare shoulder. His other hand, he decides, feels better threaded with the one across his stomach. She squeezes his fingers and sighs.

“Thank you,” she mumbles against the linen of his nightshirt. “You smell nice.”

“Do I?”

“Mm-hmm. Like the forest.”

She closes her eyes now, willing herself to drift off. Sebastian will not follow – not until she has first, just as he promised to no one other than himself. Truly, though, he doesn’t mind the wait. He’d very much like to savor the feeling of her body so close, in this room that he can only describe as home. It is, as they say, where the heart is. And this heart in his arms stood by his side from the very beginning, even when he feared that he had surely lost her for good. Just as he lost his sister (the grave of his uncle can attest to that) and now Ominis is becoming nothing more than a scent on the breeze and an occasional salutation.

Perhaps he can chalk it up to the dramatism of youth and the perpetual exaggeration of a boy’s emotions, or perhaps it is the sincerity of his spirit – Sebastian is not sure which it is – but he can say with absolute certainty that a life without Daphne is simply no longer one that he has any interest in. As friends, as lovers, it matters not; so long as she is a part of him for the remainder of his days. And this bedroom will only feel like home so long as she shares it too.

She shudders. Her breathing grows heavy and her lips part. Her grasp of his hand slackens. She is asleep at last. Sebastian closes his eyes now, with something of a smile frozen upon his face.

If only such a moment could last forever.

part one of four

#sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x player character #slytherin x hufflepuff #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #harry potter

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reginaaxxwrites · 8 months

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How Long Will I Love You (Severus Snape)

Okay, first of all, I know some of you don't like Snape but as for me, I have mixed feelings about his character. It's because his character was portrayed differently from the books. He was not a villain but he was not a good person either. I won't justify the fact he bullied his students. I do like how flawed his character is. And that's why I created a one-shot about him to show my appreciation for his character.

Also, I wrote this because I was listening to 'How Long Will I Love You' by Ellie Goulding and I thought of Snape and Lily. And I think that this song just really suits Snape because of his love and loyalty for Lily.

*****

Severus Snape x Fem!Reader

Warning: none just fluff and angst (i know angst again)

*****

I didn't mean to.

I never meant to.

Everyone, I, myself included wondered why I fell in love with Severus Snape. Trust me, I question it every day and every night.

He's vile and vicious. He's a Slytherin. He's evil and weird and vicious-- wait, I already said that.

I was sitting at the Courtyard and I saw him walking with his Slytherin friends. Everyone rumors that they were practicing Dark Arts without supervision. They say that Professor Slughorn doesn't know about it, but some say he was the one who's supervising it.

While they made their way to the corridor, his eyes met mine. Our gaze is locked for a couple of seconds before he looks away. He changed throughout the summer, I can see that. His hair, of course, remained long. His nose was large yet a bit slimmer than before.

He looks less...greasy.

I snapped out of my thoughts when my friend, Jane snapped her fingers in front of me.

"Who are you looking at?" She raised her eyebrow.

"No one."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." I took a bite of my chocolate.

"I will choose your partner for this Potion Project. Any objections and points will be deducted." Professor Slughorn said while the students groaned in annoyance. I was one of them.

I admit that I am not good at Potions. Well, some of it is passable-- just like Professor Slughorn's comments on my Potions.

It's a wonder why I am good at Herbology yet awful at Potions.

"Evans with Goodwin." I looked at my friend Jane who was partnered with Lily Evans. They were both excellent at Potions so there wasn't any problem with that.

"L/N with... Ah, yes. Severus Snape." My heart dropped when our Potion's teacher mentioned his name.

I saw his face and he wasn't thrilled to be my partner. I could say the same thing to him. I frowned as I made my way to his side. It's not like I have any other choice. I don't want our house points to get deducted because I refuse Severus Snape to be my partner.

"Start up the cauldron while I go get the ingredients." He left at my side to gather the ingredients for the Sleeping Draught Potion. I didn't protest since he left before I could say anything. I start up the cauldron just like he said.

When he returned, he started to work on the ingredients.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked him.

"Just look after the cauldron. When I hand you the ingredients, you put them then mix it the number of times in my book says." He answered. I nodded at him and did what he asked me to do once again.

The Potion was perfect. Of course, it would be since it was hard to make a mistake when you're partnered with one of the best students in Potion's Class.

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me, L/N. It was a group activity." With that, he left.

I didn't expect him to chitchat with him so I let him be.

Jane went to my side and clung her arm to mine. Together, we walked out of the Potions Classroom.

"Did everything go well with Snape?" She looked at me as if she was seeking a piece of important information.

"It was...less horrible, I guess."

"Really? And...was worth the time to be partnered with your secret crush?"

"Yes-- wait, what? No! I don't have a crush on that guy! What makes you think of that?!" I rumbled at her as she laughed at my expression.

"What are you laughing at?!" I frowned at my friend.

"Please, Y/N. We've been friends for 7 years now. You don't need to deny it. I see the way you look at him." She wriggled her eyebrows which made me frown even more.

I don't have a crush on him... Maybe he became more good-looking this year than the past years I saw him. But I don't have a crush on him. I don't...

"Do not frown. You've been looking at him like you would drool all over him since the term started. Everyone's been whispering that he indeed looked good, even handsome after the summer break. I guess he had a late puberty hit." She giggled.

"Drool? Are you mad? You are mad." I groaned at her. She's wrong. I've been looking at Snape since the fifth year. But she doesn't need to know that.

There have been amount of times when Potter and his little friends bullied him and I was there. I feel bad, really. I wanted to step in and help, like the Hufflepuff, I am. But he doesn't know me. It'll be weird. Besides, he has Evans.

But I guess, shortly after that scene. They were not friends anymore. At least I heard so.

"I am not mad. Perhaps, you are. You fancy the man who seems to be mad at everything, anything. Look what cost him. He lost Evans just because she was trying to defend him in front of Potter and his idiotic friends."

"He was embarrassed. Have you seen his face? Sure, it was wrong of him to tell Evans a mudblood. But maybe..." I bit my bottom lip, trying to stop myself from talking.

"You're defending him. We don't really know what exactly if he actually meant it."

"Yeah... I just hope he isn't what people think of him."

"I don't know. Maybe, he is. Considering he is friends with Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, and other Slytherin folks that are loyal to..."

"Voldemort."

"Don't say his name!" My friend scolded me.

"Sorry." I apologized. "Do you think he's a death eater?"

"It's hard not to think that he is not." I hope he's not.

Oh, no.

How did I end up getting stuck with Severus Snape?

I used as many spells that would unlock the door but it seems none of them were working. I looked back at Snape, who looked like he was bored. His arms were crossed, looking at me intently. He looks amused. Bored but amused.

I frowned at him.

"Well? Do you know any spells, any counter-curses? We can't be stuck here!" I told him but his face remained the same.

"Snape! Talk!"

"I am not a dog, Y/N." He finally said. "Be quiet and let me think."

So he was thinking. I hate him.

I leaned my weight on the wooden table near me and far from him. I looked at him while he kept looking at the door in front of him.

Even with his long hair, it looks soft. It doesn't look greasy as they say. It looks really smooth and soft-- merlin, why do I keep saying that?

"Prank."

"Pardon?"

"This was a prank."

"How so?" He looked annoyed as I kept asking him questions.

"This was a prank, stupid girl. I was supposed to be stuck here alone as soon as I entered and closed the door behind me. But you..."

Did he just call me stupid?

"I..."

"I didn't need your help," He said. He looks angry at me.

I knew some of the students in our year were planning to trap Snape in this classroom. But I didn't know exactly that their prank was a powerful kind of spell that not even an alohomora could open the door.

I tried to approach him but the door was already shut behind me. And now, we're stuck.

"Who said I was helping you?" I rolled my eyes, trying to sound confident.

"Then why are you here?"

"I-I left something here..."

"And that is?" He raised an eyebrow at me. I looked away.

"My quill."

"Do you know that this classroom is abandoned?" Ah, he caught me.

"I come here often." I continue to defend.

He didn't say anything else. This was the first time we had this long conversation. I heard him sigh as he ran his fingers through his long black hair. I felt my cheeks burn.

He's...handsome.

"Why do they hate you?" I asked to break the silence. I don't even why I bother to ask him a question when I know he wouldn't answer them.

But to my surprise...

"Everyone hates Slytherin."

"I have friends in Slytherin and I don't hate them."

"Why am I not surprised that you don't hate us?" I don't hate you.

"I'm not trying to surprise you. But I ask if you know they prank you often and harm you even if it's just for fun. Why...don't hurt them?"

Snape studies my face. His eyes looked into my lips, nose, and then my eyes.

"It's worthless." I want to hurt them. I want them to suffer. I want them to be physically and mentally hurt and suffer. They deserve it—all of them.

I stared into his eyes, reading his thoughts. That he doesn't mean what he just said. There's pain, bitterness, and hatred.

"Don't read my mind."

"I'm not. I am not a skilled Legilimen." I do read minds. But not too deeply. My dad taught me before I died.

"Then, stop."

"Sorry."

"Lily..." I covered my mouth. I didn't mean to. I...

"I told you to stop." His voice was cold and stern. He sounded mad, really mad.

"I'm sorry..."

"You're not." Yes, I am not.

"I am."

He looked away. I tried not to read his mind, so I just looked away from him.

"How long do you think this will last?"

"When the professors realized we're missing." I thought he was being sarcastic but he's not.

"Oh..."

It's been 3 days since Snape and I were stuck in that abandoned classroom. And it's been 3 days since Jane has been pestering me about the incident.

"For the last time Jane, nothing happened." I groaned as I stopped fixing my plate with waffles with maple syrup and blueberries.

"Not even... a kiss?" My cheeks started to burn as I thought of him and I pressed our lips together. I snapped out of my thoughts by realizing I was putting too much syrup on my waffles.

"No!"

"So like both of you sat in there in silence until everyone realized you were both missing?"

"Yes. Well, no-- please don't make me say anything."

"Y/N L/N! You read his mind?!" I shushed her.

"Jane! Sometimes I wish you didn't know that I'm a Legilimen." I finally took a bite of my waffles.

"What's like reading his mind?"

"I don't know... You know I feel uncomfortable reading into people's minds unintentionally." I looked down on my food.

"I know."

"All I know is that I get to understand him a little." Jane nodded at me as she finally took her first bite of her food.

While we were eating, I could feel someone was staring at me. My eyes landed on the Slytherin Table and saw him eating his usual breakfast. A boring toast and black coffee. Our eyes locked together. He looked at me intently and I realized he had already practiced Occlumency. It's only a matter of time before he can master Legilimency.

I saw his lips form a small smirk. Although I am not really a skilled Legillimens and I could only look into people's minds a gist of their memories, I am quite excellent at Occlumency.

He can't read my mind. That, I can assure of it.

There's an upcoming war. People start to pick sides. But I'd rather choose to keep my family safe. My parents wanted me to leave Hogwarts. But I couldn't. I told them we'd only leave after I graduated. And that's 3 months away.

3 months and I'll we'll flee the country. Far away from him like mum said. Maybe we'll stay in India. Away from the war, from Voldemort.

But do I really want to go with them?

I looked over at Snape in his usual seat at the Slytherin Table. He was alone while reading a book whatever he was reading. His eyes watched mine.

'Are you okay?'

'Get out of my mind.'

'Snape, please.'

'Not picking a side is also choosing a side.'

'I am not joining you.'

'I'm not asking you to.'

'Then what are you trying to tell me?'

'Don't go...Don't leave.'

My eyes widened, still looking at him over his table. I wanted to go over to his side and talk to him. But he didn't want me to be seen hanging around with him. So, reading each other's minds has been our form of communication these past few months.

No one knows about it. Not even, Jane.

'Why?'

He didn't answer and just stood up. I saw him leave the Great Hall. And soon after I followed him.

"You didn't answer my question." I closed the door behind me when we both entered the same abandoned classroom we both got stuck in.

"I don't see any reason to answer you."

"You told me not to leave, Snape."

"Forget it."

"What are you not telling me?"

"Leave." He said without looking at me. His back facing me.

"No. Not until you tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Snape." My tone became stern.

"You need to leave."

"Severus. Please tell me what's wrong. Please, you know fully well I won't leave until you tell me."

"I can make you leave."

"And I can be very persistent."

"Fine." He finally turned to face me. He walked toward me as I unconsciously took steps back until I felt the was against my back. His arms pinned me on the wall, our eyes never breaking.

"Se...Severus?"

"Say my name. Again." I could feel his breath brushing my face.

"Severus..."

"Say it again." His eyes went to mine down to my lips. He was moving closer to me. Our lips almost touching.

"Severus..."

He finally lunged in and captured my lips perfectly. He moved his hands to cup my face while my hands were on his chest as I gripped his robes tightly. Our bodies pressed together. We continued to kiss and hold each other close.

His hands started to move to my waist and turned my body around. He lifted me as he placed me on a table, my arms around his neck as my fingers ran on his long black hair. He groaned when my fingers were on his hair. That gave me a sign that he liked what I was doing.

His kisses went down to my neck as a soft moan escaped from my lips.

"Severus..." He groaned once again while kissing my neck.

"Don't leave." He stopped kissing me as his eyes went back to mine. "Please."

"I-I don't understand why."

"Damnnit, Y/N! I'm in love with you. You could go thick as you get!"

I didn't know what to say but to press my lips on his once again. He kisses me back more passionately, both of our beating hearts being satisfied but not contented.

"You...don't need to pick sides. Just don't leave. I can protect you, please." My hands moved to cupped his cheeks and I caressed it.

"Sev... I won't leave. I promise." I kissed his forehead and after that, I placed my forehead against his. His hands moved on my wrists and brought the palm of my hands to his lips.

"I will protect you...always."

"As I am, my love." I smiled.

Despite his love for her, he continued to love Lily. Not romantically but because she was his and will always be a friend to him. A part of him he'll never take away. Y/N understood that. And she was devastated when they couldn't save her and James. So she helped him to protect Harry Potter throughout his years in Hogwarts.

Even Harry Potter became friends with their son, Seth Snape. Y/N knew that her husband had been working as a double agent for Voldemort and Dumbledore. She was against this but Dumbledore and her husband both assured her that it would be fine.

Until Snape had to force and kill Dumbledore. Because of this Harry went on rage on him. Seth knew nothing about his father's mission. He doesn't know that his father is a death eater. Y/N badly wants to tell Seth.

As the war gets worse, fights between Snape and Y/N are continuous.

"You have to trust me!"

"Trust? Severus, our son won't even look at you. He won't even acknowledge you as his father because you killed Dumbledore. Because you continue to do this...mad plan!" She shouted, she cried.

"It's the only way--"

"I know! And I hate it because it's the only way you can save the Wizarding World. It's the only way you can protect Harry... Sev... What about me? You..." She broke into tears and it seemed it was getting harder to breathe because of her sobs. "You promised me that you would protect me. I am getting hurt. I know you are too that's why I continue to support you because my loyalty lies with you. Because I choose you. I pick you. I am on your side. Always."

"Y/N..."

"I can't stand any longer with them. I hate to see these children suffer. Seth is no longer himself. I'm scared, Sev." Snape went to his wife and put her in his arms. He caressed and peppered her with kisses. He doesn't care if he's being watched right now. All he wanted was to comfort the woman he loved. To provide what she needs.

"Please...I need you to trust me. I know what I'm doing. I promise."

"Promise me you won't die. Promise me, Severus... I can't lose you too."

"You won't lose me. I promise."

Snape's plan continued. He helped Harry to destroy the Slytherin locket by sending a Patronus without anyone knowing it. While Y/N knew that Snape could protect himself, she stood by his side. She also never failed to look after Seth. Their son was part of the Dumbledore Army that Harry built to learn DADA.

"Mum..."

"Seth?" Y/N frowned at the sight of his 17-year-old son. "My sweet, what happened?" She went over to her son who sat on the sofa. She cupped her son's face. "You look tired."

"They made me torture them... I feel sick. I am not like him." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Seth... he's not like them. Your father is trying."

"That's not an excuse. He's still a murderer. He killed Dumbledore." He gritted his teeth.

Y/N was taken aback. Snape was indeed a murderer. His husband killed someone and used an unforgivable curse. If Voldemort is defeated, he could be sent to Azkaban for it.

"Your father did a horrible thing but he's not evil."

"You don't need to keep staying by his side, mum. You can leave and go to hiding."

"Seth! I love your father. I can't leave him. I don't want to leave. I want to stay. Because when you love someone even if it's hard to trust them, even if they already damaged your trust. You will stay with them. You will not leave them. Even if hurts, even if it kills you. I am willing to risk my life for your father. And I would do the same thing to you."

Seth didn't say another word and slowly went to hug his mother. He's already taller than her.

"I'm sorry, mum."

"You also need to be careful. When the war starts, come back to me, okay? Come back. You and your father will come back to me. That's an order."

"We will, mum. We will."

Y/N was not allowed to fight during the Battle of Hogwarts because she was 3 months pregnant. She stayed at Andromeda Tonks' house while they took care of Teddy Lupin. She couldn't sleep as she thought of her husband and son. She hopes when morning rises, both of them will come back to her.

"Y/N, dear, you should rest." Andromeda placed a cup of tea on her bedtable.

"Thank you, Meda."

"It's nothing. They will come back. I know they will." She offered her a comforting smile that made Y/N miss her own mum.

The next morning came and she heard knocking on the door. She immediately saw her son at the doorway and ran to hug him. Seth immediately wrapped his arms around his mother.

"Thank the gods you're okay!" She pulled away and looked at Seth's face. She cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

"Mum..."

"Where's your father?"

Seth broke into tears and hugged his mother again. Y/N didn't understand what was happening and she didn't want to understand it.

"Where's Severus? Where's your father?" Her voice was shaking. She saw Harry standing. Seth pulled away from the hug as Harry walked closer to her.

"I'm sorry... I could have saved him. But... I'm sorry." Harry went to catch Y/N as she broke down in tears as well as Andromeda when she received the news. She also lost her daughter.

I hummed a song as I placed Heliotrope flowers on his grave. I placed my daughter on my lap. She looked at the grave with great curiosity.

"Mummy, who are humming to?" My daughter asked. I moved a few strands of her hair to the side and tucked in her ears. I kissed his soft cheeks.

"Your father, sweetheart. He loves it when I hummed him a song."

"I love it when you hummed me a song. I also love when you sing, mummy." She said enthusiastically.

"Of course you do. That's one of the common things you and your father share." I smiled at my daughter. She stood up from my lap and started to run through the grass, laughing.

I stayed at his grave. As the wind brushed into my skin, I imagined him being close to me. His arms wrapped around me while he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. Severus was never the type of person you would think that he would do those kinds of things. But he is capable of them.

"It still hurts, Sev... I want and I need you here. I will never stop loving you, my love. Even if the stars die. You'll wait for me, okay? We will meet again, I promise. Not now but someday." I leaned on his gravestone and placed a kiss. "I love you."

*****

I know I'm sorry this is another one-shot where someone has to die again. I'll make it up, I promise.

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hufflepuff-16 · 6 months

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A Smile that Doesn't Reach the Eyes 〃由☆

(Professor) Sebastian Sallow x Dark gn!reader ((((ヽ(;^^)/

Summary: Unfortunately for Sebastian was forced by Headmaster Black to mandate a team of students to help decorate hogwarts Castle for Halloween. However, even after letting students know in his several classes, only one person turns up. [Y/N] [L/N].

A/N: Hello, lovelies. I've got so much inspiration that I decided to make a part 3, I really hope you enjoy this, I've decided to make this into a series (this time I'm determined to keep it going). Also, I took the liberties to change the origins of Halloween in this fic, and I learned a lot from my research, Halloween is actually about honouring the dead not the worshiping of the occult!

Warnings: Mentions of imprisonment and being condemned for a crime.

Link to my Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

Picture made using AI edited by me

'Hello sir, um...I'm here to help with the decorating." As you walked through the door.

Sebastian issued a call out for help with decorating, only you had volunteered.

"Ah,[Y/N]," he greets back as he sees you. "Come to help with the decorations, I see? Are you the only one here, then?" Sebastian asks, his voice being calm and soft.

"It seems so," you chuckled.

"I guess you're stuck with me, Professor!"

"Well, at least you're here," Sebastian chuckles and smiles. He was genuinely pleased that you had turned up, especially because it meant that he wouldn't be doing the preparation alone.

"So, I suppose we should start at the Great Hall. What do you think, [Y/N]?" the Professor asks, his tone now more enthusiastic and upbeat as they begin getting on with the task.

"I think that's the best place to start," you replied serenely.

"Alright," Sebastian says, beginning to walk towards the corridor that led to the Great Hall. "Do you have any particular ideas for the decor?" he asks [Y/N], hoping that you will have some creative ideas for the decoration. You were a student, after all, a creative and young one at that.

"Maybe in the corners of the great hall, we can add some cobwebs from the corner and hang them across to the middle of the hall, kind of like a canopy, " you gesture to the corners of the room.

"That's a good idea, [Y/N]," Sebastian says, nodding in approval. "Hanging the spider decoration from the corner ceiling and having them cover the area with webs is very creative," he adds. Sebastian has to admit, despite your liking spiders, he was impressed with your creativity to include them in the decorations. "You seem to be creative," the Professor says, wanting to praise his student's unique ideas.

"Thank you, sir. I try." You say drly.

Sebastian smiles, his expression becoming more excited. He knew there was more to the student than anyone else knew, and he was proud that you didn't try to act like every other student but yourself.

"Are you going to dress up for Halloween, [Y/N]?" the Professor asks, genuinely interested. "Most students do, you know?"

"Nope," you say, putting emphasis on the 'p'.

Sebastian tilted his head, a little confused by your answer. "You're... not going to dress up for Halloween? Is there a particular reason why?" he asks [Y/N]. "Or do you just prefer not to wear costumes?"

"I think the costume idea of Halloween is terrible. Halloween is a time when muggles used to hunt us witches and wizards and burn them at the stake!" You say passionately.

Sebastian took a moment to absorb your answer, your reasoning for not dressing up on Halloween, making sense to him. "You know...I never thought of it that way," Sebastian admitted. "I always thought it was about children dressing up, trick or treating, and scaring each other," the Professor laughed, realising that his perception was wrong. "But, I can understand how it's a controversial holiday then," he adds.

"I don't think it's worth us arguing about it, you know?" Sebastian says, his tone being more relaxed than before. "Should we just get on with the decorating then?"

"Yes..." You both silently began decorating the hall. There was an awkward tension in the room until Sebastian spoke up about the questions that you had for Professor Ominis Gaunt.

After a moment of silence, Sebastian turns to [Y/N] as he helps them decorate the Great Hall. "[Y/N], can I ask you something?" the Professor asks, his tone being more serious. "You asked Professor Ominis about Horcruxes, yes?" the Professor asks, but his tone isn't accusing; just curious and intrigued.

"Um...yes? I just asked him one question." You say uncertainty clear in your voice.

Sebastian senses the uncertainty in [Y/N] voice and chooses to let the matter rest. He can tell that the student may be lying to him about how many questions they asked, but it wasn't worth the argument for Sebastian.

"Well, as long as you're not planning on creating a Horcrux, [Y/N]," the Professor says with a smile, trying to dismiss the matter calmly. "Let's just focus on decorating, okay?"

The professor then turns his focus back to the Great Hall, continuing to help you decorate for the Halloween celebrations.

"Sir... I have a question... not horcrux related, though," you say firmly.

Sebastian gives you a look of curiosity, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "Go on, [Y/N]," he prompts calmly. "What would you like to ask?"

"It's a bit personal, so I don't want to make you uncomfortable..." You say softly.

"It's alright, [Y/N], you can ask it," Sebastian says. "There are some things that I am uncomfortable with, but there aren't many. Go on, ask it," as if giving you the permission to ask him anything.

After all, he was the professor, and they were the student. He felt obligated to listen to any question a student asked from him.

"What's azkaban like?"

Sebastian's expression turns slightly solemn as [Y/N] asks their question. It was quite a deep question, but the professor was prepared. "Azkaban?" he asks, his voice being calm and gentle. He could tell you were curious, and he wanted to answer it so that he could ease your thoughts.

"Well. Azkaban is a terrible place, [Y/N]." The Professor's voice was stern, and there was a slight tremble to it; Sebastian clearly had an emotional attachment to Azkaban. "Many are sent there for life, not to be released ever again..."

"You went to Azkaban, didn't you?" You say sounding innocent.

"Yes, I did," Sebastian says, his face still solemn. The Professor knew that if he was going to talk about Azkaban and his experience, then he needed to be blunt and honest. He owed it to you in that regard.

"I was sent there, [Y/N]. Many years ago." Sebastian pauses, a sigh leaving his mouth as he remembers his past. "But, I do not wish to delve into my past, okay? It helps nobody, and it is not something I like to talk about."

"Aah, ok, I just know someone, that's why..." You say casually.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you. "Oh, do you?"

The professor wanted to get to the root of this conversation. He was curious about why you had suddenly begun talking about Azkaban and what they knew.

"Who exactly do you know who has been to Azkaban, [Y/N]?" Sebastian asks, clearly curious, albeit cautious.

"Oh no," you giggle strangely. "My father was part of the wizengamot during the time. He was the judge who condemned you to Azkaban!"

Sebastian froze, his expression going completely pale. He did not expect such a revelation to come from you, let alone about the person who condemned him to that hell. For a moment, Sebastian felt lost in the past but quickly came back to the present and turned to you slowly.

"I...see," Sebastian says softly, unsure of what to say as his heart was racing. "And, how do you know about my sentencing?"

"Oh, well, at the time, before I was born, it was a big thing in the papers, a fifteen years old boy murdering their uncle!"

"I...yes, I've heard that the case made quite a big story in the wizarding world back in the day," Sebastian says solemnly. "You...seem to know a lot of things about me, [Y/N]. This is... a lot to take in," he adds, looking at the you with a concerned expression. He now felt a certain attachment to him. "How much do you know about me?"

There was a slight smirk on your face, before innocently replying, "Nothing much, sir, don't worry..."

Sebastian took a moment to think. He couldn't tell whether you knew of anything else about him or whether she were just saying that to be reassuring.

"Okay," he says, sounding a bit unconvinced as he did. "Well, I just want you to know, [Y/N]. My past is... not something I enjoy reliving," he adds. "Can we, err, move on and stop talking about the subject? It's just... sensitive, okay?"

"Oh, alright, then," you huff slightly "besides my father is dead anyway, so it doesn't really matter in the end," you say incredibly bluntly.

Sebastian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at. "I...see," he says, a little thrown off by how casually you mentioned your father's death. The professor wasn't sure if he'd heard you correctly, but he thought it best to move on in order to avoid any unnecessary conversation.

"Shall we continue decorating?" he asks, sounding somewhat confused by the short conversation they'd just had.

"Yes, sir."

Sebastian nods with a soft smile.

"Alright, let's keep decorating then," the Professor says softly. The awkward atmosphere they'd created was quickly broken by Sebastian with the mention of decorating again. After all, it was what he wanted to focus on. "Shall we just concentrate on decorating now?"

Sebastian hopes that by continuing, [Y/N] will move on from their previous conversation about Azkaban and their father.

You nod before quietly putting the remaining decorations on the tables.

After a few moments of silence, Sebastian speaks up again and looks over at [Y/N], smiling.

"There, I think we're done decorating, [Y/N]," he says excitedly, having finished their task quickly. He looked over at the work they'd done and was pleasantly surprised by what he saw.

"I am impressed," the Professor chuckles, his expression being more relaxed than ever before. "The Great Hall has turned out wonderfully."

You nod a soft smile on your face... but your eyes tell a different story.

Sebastian looks up at you, noticing the hint of sadness in your eyes. They were trying to hide it, but he could tell that you weren't happy. It was a shame.

"Is everything alright, [Y/N]?" the Professor asks, sounding concerned.

"Yes -"

"No, everything is not alright, I just... hogwarts is my home, and I'm just thinking of a time when I will have to leave."

Sebastian's expression turns slightly solemn, his eyes fixated on [Y/N]. He knew when to push a conversation, but he felt that it wasn't appropriate this time. The Professor wanted to make sure you were comfortable, so his voice was as calm as ever as he addressed them.

"You don't have to worry about that right now, [Y/N]," Sebastian says softly. "Hogwarts is a very safe school, and you have many years to go before you graduate and leave. We don't need to focus on that, okay?"

"Yes, sir, thank you." You reply.

Sebastian smiles at [Y/N], noticing the sadness in their eyes, not go away. "Do not thank me, [Y/N]," the Professor says, shaking his head lightly, almost playfully. "After all, you did half the work here," Sebastian laughs.

"Well, I think that's a good effort," he adds, looking at the Great Hall. "I think the students will enjoy it, especially your spider decorations," Sebastian chuckles.

You didn't laugh at his joke. You had a funny look on your face before quickly delving into a hug with Sebastian.

Sebastian was taken aback by your sudden hug. He hadn't expected that from the student, at least, not at this moment in time. However, the Professor hugged them back, knowing that was the right thing to do.

"You okay?" Sebastian asks [Y/N], gently stroking their hair. He was worried for the student. You had become attached to him, just as he had become attached to you.

"I will miss you most of all, Professor Sallow, incredibly, deeply..." You're voice hard.

"[Y/N]..." Sebastian starts to say, unsure of how to tackle the student's response. It took him a moment to process what you were saying, as he hadn't expected you to say that to him.

"I...I will miss you too. And so will Hogwarts," Sebastian adds, giving you a soft hug. He felt like he knew you, despite not knowing everything about you. He had become attached. "I am...I am proud to have known you. Can...can I call you a friend?" he asks the student softly.

Your smile does not meet your eyes again, "of course, sir."

Sebastian notices the slightly fake smile on [Y/N] face, once again sensing that you had hidden feelings that you decided to keep to yourself.

"Is it okay if I ask you something?" the Professor asks softly. He realised that [Y/N] could ask him anything without a second thought, but he wanted to ensure that you were comfortable with answering those personal questions, too.

"Yes?" you said slightly thrown off by the statement.

Sebastian wasn't sure how to ask the question, but he felt it important that he asked. He wanted to make sure [Y/N] was okay and had no issues.

"Well..." The Professor starts, trying to find the right words to ask his question. "You seem quite... sadder than usual recently. I was curious as to whether something was wrong?" Sebastian asks, as politely as he could.

"Sir...I'm actually the happiest I could ever be in my entire life!" You said happiness now very apparent on your face.

Sebastian notices the obvious change in [Y/N] mood. At first, they were sad and feeling awful, and now they were radiating happiness. It felt like they were trying to hide something.

"Oh, oh, alright then," the Professor says softly, trying to hide his confusion in [Y/N] response. "If you say so, then I'll take your word for it."

Sebastian smiles, trying to be genuine in his enthusiasm. "So you're... enjoying life at Hogwarts then, I presume?"

"I should go now, sir..." Avoiding the question slightly.

Sebastian noticed you dodging the question. They hadn't told him any outright lies, but he was sure they were hiding something.

"Okay then... well, it was nice to help decorate the Great Hall," he adds, wanting to keep the conversation focused on the task they'd completed. But his mind was somewhere else entirely, trying to figure out the mystery of Isabel. "Just...err, do me a favour and enjoy the festivities tonight. Okay, [Y/N]?"

"Of course, sir....you too," you give him the same eerie smile. Then leave the great hall.

Once [Y/N] had left, Sebastian remained in the Great Hall for a few moments. He couldn't quite explain why, but there was something different about you. You were still a bit shy and quiet, but the warmth and innocents you had seemed to have disappeared. He knew you were hiding something for definite, but he wasn't sure what it was.

After a few moments of thinking, he decided to go to his teachers dormitory and grab a drink, merlin knows he needs one. There was just something about this whole situation that didn't settle right with Sebastian, and he wanted to figure it out.

The End

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mariesdeluluworld · 2 years

Text

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙖 |𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧|𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙚𝙣: 𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙃𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚

The hall was silent; everyone stared for a brief moment until Professor McGonagall started clapping. Slowly, the other professors at the high table on the raised dais joined in. Y/n didn’t know what to do. He was frozen—at a standstill. While the table under the yellow banner with a badger applauded and cheered with smiles, he never felt so unwelcome.

Y/n didn’t notice that the stern professor had removed the old raggedy hat until she urged him off the rickety chair. He didn’t notice his legs moving on their own. Poor Y/n couldn’t hear anything. It was all muffled. As if someone was cupping his ears, shutting him out from the world into a plain of silence. His e/c eyes were glued on Harry. His twin was staring at him with a pained expression. Of course he was sad, thought Y/n bitterly. Why didn’t that talking hat put me in Gryffindor?

Ever so slowly, Y/n started moving towards the table of his new house. Eyes from the Gryffindor table watched his movements as he slunked towards the long rectangular table. Behind him, Professor McGonagall continued to call out names for each new student to be sorted. Once he reached the table, many eyes and faces greeted him with smiles. They were happy; he realised. Happy to have snatched one of the Potters. Though they did not boast about it like Harry’s house, you could see the joy each one had.

Before Y/n could sit down, a tall boy with black wavy hair and sky-blue eyes stood up, drawing attention temporarily from Y/n but in the end winded back to being on the young Potter. The boy stopped in front of Y/n and he watched with a terrified expression on his face.

“‘Ello Potter! The name’s Oliver Benedict, and I’m the seventh year Prefect of Hufflepuff House. If you need anything at all, please come straight towards me. And welcome to Hufflepuff.” Y/n watched in silence as he smiled and gestured to the table behind him. The tall creature smiled too much, which made shivers climb up his spine. Y/n wanted to say hello or nice to meet you, or possibly anything. But alas, all he said was: “Um… w-where d-do I-sit at?” His e/c eyes wandered over the table, trying to figure out where he was supposed to go. He knew from primary school that each table had a group. And he was able to figure out which group was friendly and which one was not. However, there were no multiple tables for Hufflepuff. Just one long rectangular table that had a handful of students.

“Oh, right!” Oliver cleared his throat and pointed to a small group at the end of the table. “You can sit there with the other first years, or—” He pointed to the front. “You sit with us, seventh and sixth years.”

Y/n pointed to the rest of the first years. “I think I’ll sit with them; the other first years.” He said shyly. His eyes flickered down to his hands as he fiddled with the black robes of his uniform.

“Of course, of course.” Oliver chuckled. “Remember now, if you need anything—and I mean anything at all, please come to me and I shall be glad to help you.” With one last friendly smile, Oliver went back to his original seat before Y/n sluggishly walked up to the group of first years.

He quickly took a seat next to a girl with auburn hair. The girl turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were crystal blue, and she took in Y/n. He smiled, awkwardly. She returned the sentiment and tucked a copper strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hullo, I’m Rosemary.” She had a bit of an Irish accent, but it wasn’t so prominent. Rosemary held out her hand. “And you are??”

Y/n took her hand in his.

“I’m—”

“That Y/n Potter, that is!” exclaimed a boy with blond hair. He was leaning across the table, staring at Y/n closely. His brown eyes were glued to his scar, making Y/n want to cover it up with his hair.

“If you don’t know who he is, you must be daft!”

Rosemary glared at the boy. “And you must be rude to interrupt our conversation, y’know!” She spat venomously.

The boy next to the rude one simply stared at Y/n.

“I don’t know who you are.” He said quietly. “I’m Justin Finch-Fletchy.” He held his hand out. Y/n took it. “I’m Y/n Potter.”

“How is it you don’t know who he is, Justin??” cried out the blond. “You muggle-born or somethin’?” Justin blushed, his cheeks were the colour of beets.

“Yes. I-I am. Do you have a problem with that?” Justin’s voice quivered slightly.

“No! ‘Course not! Just cause I’m a pureblood doesn’t mean I believe all that rubbish!”

Rosemary rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, I’m Ernie. Ernie Macmallin. Nice to meet you, Justin. Potter.” Ernie purposefully left out Rosemary to goad her, and she knew it too. Glaring at the blond pimple, she scoffed before introducing herself to Justin.

Y/n watched as Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the sorting hat after a boy named “Zabini” was the last one to be sorted. Soon the hall grew quiet around Y/n as the man sitting at the high table on the raised dais stood up, raising his hands to draw everyone’s attention.

“Welcome new and returning students!” His voice was soft yet strong at the same time, plus his long white beard reminded Y/n of Father Time. He, like the rest of wizards and witches apparently, wore bright purple robes with blue and burgundy embellishments and embroidery in the fabric. On his head seemed to be an overly large nightcap. “Before we start feasting, I would like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

Laughter boomed through the hall, and Y/n looked around the hall as he said those odd words. His brows were furrowed, confusion laced in his eyes. Was he supposed to laugh? If so, those words weren’t funny. In fact, they were rather strange. Strange word choice. He didn’t like the way the old wizard’s eyes twinkled. It made him shudder.

“He’s a bit loony, huh?” questioned Rosemary. “My mum thinks so,” whispered a girl with blonde pig-tails. “Dumbledore, loony? Reckon you’re loony if you think the best wizard in the world is loony himself!” claimed Ernie.

“Thank you, and have a wonderful feast!” He raised a hand and suddenly, dishes appeared. A plate and silverware and goblet materialised in front of him, making Y/n gasp and stare wide-eyed.

“Whoa,” he whispered. Food started being passed around and lively chatter filled the hall. Soon, food was piled on his plate, drawing some looks from other Hufflepuffs—though Y/n did not care. He was busy eating. He never, in his entire eleven-years of life, has ever seen this much food that he could eat! Harry would be lucky to see him tomorrow and not nursing a food-coma.

As he shovelled food into his mouth, Y/n missed the glances he received from others. A few Ravenclaws whispered behind their hands, a few Hufflepuffs elbowed each other and pointed, while some Slytherins watched on. Gryffindor house was the only ones that did not notice, for they were too busy being occupied by their new member.

“Y/n, would you like some potatoes?” He looked up and nodded. “Thanks, Rosemary,” she smiled in return. “No problem,” She brushed her red locks behind her ear.

“So, Potter, did you and your brother really kill You-Know-Who?” The table became silent. The only ones who spoke were the 7th and 6th years who were far down and didn’t hear. Y/n froze and hesitantly looked up from his plate. His housemates were either staring at him, waiting for his answer, or they were sending glares at Macmillian—Rosemary was in the latter, her fists clenched—and a tense silence was cast on the table.

Before Y/n could give his answer, someone interrupted him.

“Oh, shut your trap Macmillian, ye old geezer!” snapped a voice full of a Scottish burr. “The next time a hear any incentive thing comin’ outta yer mouth, a’ll kick yer arse maself!” A tall and muscular girl gripped the rude blond boy by the ear, yanking on him as her eyes, full of fury, was directed on him. “Shame on you for bein’ an old cocker!” Giggles and snorts were heard all around Y/n, as his new housemates laughed at Macmillian.

“Mary!! Put me down!!” he whined. The giant of a woman sneered and Y/n realised then that somewhere in between her telling him off, she picked Macmillian up by his robes and held him close to her face, a few feet off the ground. The giant—Mary—plopped the scrambling boy down onto the bench and gave him one last glare, before she turned her fiery amber gaze onto Y/n.

“Am Mary Fraiser, this little twat,” she nudged Macmillian. “--is ma cousin! He’s a shite, ignore ‘im,” Fraiser reached over and held out her hand. Y/n took it gingerly before being yanked a bit as she gripped it and shook. “Nice ta meet you!”

The Y/n gave her a friendly smile, hoping that she’ll stop shaking his bones with her strength. “I’m Y/n Potter. Nice to meet you as well.”

The brawley girl barked out a laugh. “Aye we know ye, Potter.” She chuckled before giving Macmillan one last glare before she went to sit further down at the table.

The rest of the meal, Macmillan ignored Y/n, only talking—more like yelling—with Justin about the wizard sport, Quidditch. It looked like Justin didn’t get it, but nodded along for Macmillan’s sake.

As Y/n reached for a jug full of pumpkin juice, an arm went straight through the jug, making the Potter boy scream and jerk back. His eyes blown wide, he watched as a fat man wearing a grey frock with a rope tied at the waist flew through the table, moaning as he gazed at the juice longingly.

“Oh phooey,” he sighed. “I forgot,”

A few older Hufflepuffs looked on at the ghost with pity.

“Y-Y-ou’re the Fat Friar,” Y/n said, his eyes watching the ghost with a strange fascination. The ghost turned to look at him, a smile on his face.

“Indeed, I am Mister Potter! Oh! I heard you were able to be sorted into my old House!! Oh, dear, I hope you’ll enjoy it. We have a celebrity! I cannot wait to rub it in Old Baron's face! Ha!” The Friar flew off towards the Slytherin table. Y/n turned his head to watch. He noticed how the ghost called the Bloody Baron was sitting next to the blond-haired boy—Draco Malfoy. Shaking his head, Y/n went back to his food.

“What class are you excited for most, Potter?” asked Rosemary, her blue eyes full of curiosity. Before he could answer her, Rosemary interrupted. “I’m very excited for Herbology! My mum is a herbalist, it’s what drew my dad to her, y’know!”

“I really like Charms, but also I’m very excited about Potions.”

Someone chuckled. “I thought so too until I knew who was to be our Professor.” Y/n turned his head to look at the voice. He had short black hair and brown slender eyes and a round face. He looked nervous, yet confident at the same time.

“Snape, that fellow right there,” He pointed to the raised dais where the high table was, and pointed at a man with a hooked nose, shoulder-length black hair and black eyes that were staring at his brother, Harry.

“He’s a nasty bloke I’ll tell ya,” Y/n watched as “Snape” nodded his head as the professor from Diagon Alley, Professor Quirill, spoke with the black-haired professor.

“He hates anyone that isn't in his house. It makes Potions dreadful. He’s always hovering and when you make a simple mistake, he takes away so many house points and calls you names.” Y/n and Rosemary gasped.

“How cruel!”

“Can he do that?”

Cried Y/n and Rosemary at the same time, their eyes wide with shock and fury.

“No one stops him, not even Dumbledore. Tcch.” The boy crossed his arms, his eyes rolling. Realising that he didn't introduce himself, he sighed and offered his hand. “Nakamura Hiroshi, second year.”

“Y/n Potter,” He gripped Nakamura’s hand. “Rosemary Thorn, nice to meet you,” she smiled and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you both,” Nakamura nodded his head in greeting. “Welcome to Hufflepuff House,”

The Hall fell silent after dessert as Professor Dumbledore stood up from his chair.

“Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.” A few Hufflepuff’s rolled their eyes. “First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.” Rosemary leaned over to whisper to an older Hufflepuff.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.” Madam Hooch stood up from the High table. “And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.” Only a few people laughed, Harry being one of them, along with Justin, who looked around at the worried eyes of their new housemates looking grim.

“He’s… he’s not joking?” asked Justin, his voice wavering. “Nah, he ain’t. A jus’ wanna know wat it is,'' spoke Mary a few seats down.

“Usually Dumbledore gives us a reason,” murmured another student.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Y/n noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed. Oh, no. Nakamura and Mary firmly placed their hands over their ears. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone please your their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

And the school bellowed:

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they’re bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot,

just do your best, we’ll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.”

The noise was painful. Y/n had placed his hands over his ears when it first started. “Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. Rosemary whispered to Y/n. “Was that really music?” He chuckled, smirking at the auburn-haired girl. “A magic beyond all we do here!”

“And now, bedtime. Off you trot!” Prefects, Oliver and a girl with short blue hair and green eyes, stood up with a bunch of other students from the three other tables, calling out: “First year Ravenclaws, follow us,” “First year Slytherins, follow us,” “First year Gryffindors, with me.”

Y/n watched with sad eyes as he and Harry were split from each other, one wearing red and gold and the other yellow and black.

Oliver and the witch led Harry and his fellow first years through the corridors of Hogwarts. Y/n watched as the other students, red and gold, blue and bronze, climbed the grand and moving staircase—thanks to Hogwarts: A History—that Y/n couldn’t wait to explore. While he and the rest of the first years followed their Prefects. Rosemary stuck close by him, pointing to the portraits that lined the cobblestone walls.

“Our common room is in the basement?” whispered Justin. Macmillan nodded.

“Yeah, it’s near the kitchens,” a smirk formed on his face.

They climbed down the non-moving staircase and they felt a slight chill in the air. Rosemary stuck close by Y/n, pointing to the fruit themed portraits that lined the cobblestone walls. They passed a portrait of a bowl of fruit—that reminded Y/n of the bowl of fruit that muggle art teachers would have their students paint or draw—and Y/n could hear a slight commotion happening behind the portrait. Frowning, he looked at Rosemary, seeing if she had any clue as to what it was. Her face was marred in confusion. So she didn’t know what it was then, mused Y/n.

“If you need a map of Hogwarts, please let us know, myself and Oliver shall provide you with one.” Commented the female perfect, a friendly smile on her face.

The group stopped together at a nook, hidden by… barrels? Y/n looked at it in confusion.

“Unlike the other houses where they need a password or need to answer a riddle, for us, we need to tap on these barrels to a rhythm, our House Founder’s song’s rhythm. We will teach you the rhythm tomorrow after your classes. So until then, stick together in a group and we’ll assign an older student to let you in and out of the common room.” Oliver smiled at the first years. “Now, Ethel, will you do the honours?” Ethel—the other prefect—nodded her head. She approached the barrels and tapped two from the bottom, and two in the middle row, and one in the top row. A soft melody played from the barrels, and the door of the nook opened.

Y/n peered into the doorway along with the other first years. The ceiling was low; the room was round and had two small platforms with a staircase leading up to a door. One said Gents, the other Ladies. It must be the dorms, Y/n thought to himself. There was a sense of warmth and welcoming to the room. The smell of vanilla and sunflowers reached Y/n’s nose. It brought a sense of homeliness to the common room. It made him want to cuddle up in a blanket and read one of the books about dragons by the fireplace and drink some hot chocolate with marshmallows. It temporarily made him forget about his dread and his sadness. It made him forget that Harry wasn’t with him. His heart winced at the thought.

“Welcome,” Oliver smiled. “To Hufflepuff House,”

Authors Note:

Happy birthday Harry, Y/n Potter! Hope you enjoyed this weekends chapter! I don't know when the next one will be, hopefully soon, but this Monday I'm starting my last semester at school, so wish me luck! A lot of the characters that'll be showin' up will most likely be OC's, so I'm plannin' on doing an introduction to Hufflepuff house students of Hogwarts soon so you'll get a feel of them when they get older! Thanks for reading! xx

Taglist:

@officialsaturn

@mysticanxy

#male reader insert #draco malfoy x male reader #harry potter fanfic #x male reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #hufflepuff reader #hufflepuff house #oc characters #draco x reader #slytherin x hufflepuff #lgbtq #lgbtq characters #everyone is gay #metanoia story #harry potters twin #potter family #potter twins

153 notes · View notes

nari-chanxd · 1 year

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Finished! :D

Thank you for handing over you MCs to me for a little bit 🥰✨

@/magnickris (Twitter)

@/sebisimp (Twitter)

@/AndrewLarsonHL (Twitter)

@slytherincursebreaker

@/kazzak_mach (Twitter)

@faustinio27 (Instagram)

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lblackwood · 1 year

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I just wanted to share some progress pictures of my Hogwarts Legacy MC - Lacey Blackwood! @ravencaww on Tiktok has brought her to life exactly as I imagined her!

I’m also going to say that Lacey is going to be my MC in my Seb Sallow fan fiction I’ll be releasing soon called “A Figment of Imagination”!

Story Credits - @laceyblackwood on Wattpad and AO3

Art Credits - ravencaww (Tiktok)

PLEASE GO CHECK HER OUT! Her artwork is AMAZING!

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pinkykats-place · 2 years

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Hufflepuff Reader x Draco Malfoy Ⅱ

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Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

Readers are female.

Image is not mine.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please like, comment and/or reblog their work!

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Banished

Draco Malfoy x female!puff! Reader

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed, too!”

Yellow

Draco x hufflepuff! Reader

Summary: Y/n and Draco falling in love with the color yellow and each other

Crush!

Draco Malfoy x female!puff! Reader

Summary: just draco having a crush on you! and the slytherin gang has some plan of their own amusement to it.

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imagininghogwarts · 8 months

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Welcome to Gryffindor Tower

My name is Eloise! I'm a Hufflepuff, but the current blog theme is Gryffindor. If you were wondering, my favorite characters are Oliver Wood and Ginny Weasley.

I will write (almost) any canon characters from golden trio era and marauders era, as well as fanon characters (such as Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, etc.)!

I'll link my masterlist here once I have it :)

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter characters x reader #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #marauders #hp fanfic #hp x reader #marauders x reader

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cutielando · 5 months

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hold me close until i die ~ harry potter

my masterlist

a/n: this is going to be a little depressing, so buckle up.

♡♡♡♡♡

Being on the run was taking a toll on all of you.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you had been searching for Horcruxes for weeks and you were starting to lose hope of ever finding them all.

You were tired, you were drained of every ounce of will and hope, you were missing home more than anything. You missed the warmth you felt while cuddling with your blanket next to the fire, the taste of hot chocolate, the comfort of your bed, the feeling of safety that home provided you.

Your mood drop was visible to the three of your friends, but especially to Harry.

You didn't want to tell Harry that you couldn't do it anymore, that you wanted nothing more than to go home and leave everything behind you.

"What's wrong?" he asked you one night when he found you outside of your shared tent, looking at the black sky.

"Nothing" you mumbled, but you knew he wouldn't believe you.

"Love, I know you, I know when something is wrong. You know you can tell me anything" he sat down next to you and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in order to keep you warm.

"Promise you're not going to hate me?" you said in a small voice, looking up at him with big eyes.

"I could never hate you"

You sighed, thinking of ways to break the news to him in the nicest way possible, careful not to hurt his feelings.

"I just, I can't do it anymore. I can't keep living on the run like this, I'm not made for this. I want to go home, I want to wrap myself in my favorite blanket and stay near the fire, I want to laugh with my Mom and play Quidditch with my Dad. I want to go back to my old life, but I also know how important this is to you and I didn't want to hurt your feelings by telling you that I don't want to do this any longer"

You couldn't see Harry's face because your face was buried in his chest, but you could tell that he heard you loud and clear by the way his posture changed.

Nobody talked for a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the faint conversation Ron and Hermione were having.

"I understand. I know you, I could tell that you weren't happy about this. I'm not mad, if that's what you're scared of. As soon as we're able to be on the move again, we'll drop you off at home and continue by ourselves. I don't want to come with us if you don't feel safe. I love you, and your safety and well-being are always going to be my top priority" when he finished with a kiss on your head, you let out a big sigh of relief.

You were so glad that he wasn't mad at you. You loved him more than anything and you truly wanted to help him, but it's not the lifestyle you wanted, no matter how much you wanted to trick yourself into believing it was right for you.

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help. I just didn't think it would be this hard, being away from everyone I love and constantly worrying if I'm going to live to see tomorrow" you said, looking out in the distance at the quiet forest.

"I know. I should have known it was not going to be easy, for any of us, but especially for you three because you have people at home that you care about and I don't. But don't worry, as soon as we can get moving, I'll take you home"

"Thank you" you rested your forehead against his, savoring the quiet moment you had with your boyfriend.

♡♡♡♡♡

It had been a couple of days after your conversation with Harry and Hermione had informed everyone that it was finally safe for you to get moving again.

You had talked to everyone about your plan and they were surprisingly supportive, understanding how much you needed to go home.

On the day when you would finally be leaving, the trio was packing up the tent and stashing everything in their bags while you were standing outside the tent, watching for any anomalies.

A twig breaking in the distance ruined the thick silence of the trees, making you stiffen and grip your wand tighter into your hand.

"Hello?" you called out, distancing yourself from the tent and walking deeper into the forest.

Another twig snapped, this time from your right. You turned around but you didn't see anyone. Just as you let out a sigh and went to turn around, you felt something hard hit you over the head, making you fall down to the ground and hold your now bleeding head.

"Hello, Y/N. Remember me?" a distant voice filled your ears, but you couldn't place it.

Your vision had gone blurry and you were starting to feel lightheaded, the blood loss starting to affect you.

Before you could do anything else, you felt your eyelids go heavy and close, the last thing you heard being your boyfriend screaming for you in the distance.

♡♡♡♡♡

When you regained consciousness, you had a splitting headache and you could barely gather enough strength to open your eyes.

"Y/N" you heard someone whisper your name from afar, and you desperately tried to open your eyes and see where the voice was coming from.

"Y/N, please open your eyes" another voice whispered, and it sounded awfully familiar.

"Love, please open your eyes and look at me" a third voice was heard, and you finally recognized it to belong to your boyfriend.

You managed to open your eyes a little, the blurry figures of your 3 friends slowly coming into view. They were on the other side of the room, their hands and legs tied with chains to the wall.

"Where are we? What the bloody hell happened?" your voice was hoarse, and you held a hand to your head, trying to soothe the throbbing in your head.

"Snatchers, found us in the forest. Caught us when we exited the tent after Harry yelled your name. The next thing we knew, we woke up here" Ron explained in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure there was nobody to overhear your conversation.

"Damn it. Are you alright?" you asked, resting your head against the cold wall and looking over to them.

They looked just as bad as you felt. There were bruises on their arms, mud all over their clothes.

"We're fine, you took the hardest hit in the head" Hermione looked at your head worriedly.

"Well, well, well. What a nice family reunion" the teasing voice of Bellatrix filled the filthy room where you were, her footsteps echoing and coming closer and closer.

"Unlike you, we actually have a family" Ron grumbled, struggling against the chains his hands were tied with.

"Little Weasley has got a tongue, how cute. Y/N, how are you doing, my darling? How's your little head?" she turned her attention to you, cocking her head and looking at you with a satisfied smirk.

"My head is fine" you mumbled through gritted teeth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how much pain you were in.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? After all, you didn't come here to feel at home" she approached you and stuck a hand inside her robes, pulling out a dagger and twirling it around in her hand.

"Don't you dare touch her, you vile bitch" Hermione screamed, thrashing against the chains.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy little Mudblood, or you'll be next. Now, Y/N, are there any last words you would like to say to your friends? Maybe to your little boyfriend?"

You turned your head and looked straight at Harry, tears streaming down your face as you came to terms with the fact that you were going to die in the next few minutes. Tears started filling Harry's eyes too, all while he was trying to escape from the chains.

"Harry, look at me, love. Don't cry, it's okay, I'll be fine. You go home and tell my parents I'm sorry and that I love them, okay? I'm sorry I left them alone and I'm sorry we didn't get to say goodbye. Promise me, will you?" your voice was shaky, cracking at every other word.

"Don't talk like that, Y/N. We're all going to be fine, you'll get to tell them that yourself" he was struggling, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable.

He couldn't lose you too, not after all the people he had lost. You were the only constant and he couldn't bear imagining a life without you in it.

"Promise me you'll go to my parents, Harry. Please" more tears streamed down his face as he nodded, watching you give him a teary smile.

"I love you, Harry, more than anything in this world. Be strong for me"

Before he could say anything else, you felt the cold blade pierce your stomach and Bellatrix's breath against the side of your face.

"Tell your brother I said hi" she whispered in your ear, pulling away and taking out the dagger.

You felt warm blood seeping through your shirt, and your breaths became ragged as you tried to apply pressure on the wound.

Bellatrix's footsteps became distant, and at last Harry freed himself of the chains and sprinted towards you, taking your head and placing it on his lap.

"Look at me, Y/N. You're going to be okay, we're going to get you out of here and you'll be fine" he tried to sound strong, but he was dying on the inside as he watched you struggle to breathe.

"I'm not, love. The dagger was poisonous, I can already feel the poison entering my blood. There is nothing you can do" you whispered, managing to cast a small smile.

Hermione was sobbing furiously from the other side of the room, Ron doing the best he could to muffle his sobs as he watched the scene in front of him. His best friend dying.

"Don't say that, you can't die on me. We have our life planned out, you can't leave me" he was crying, his tears falling on your face and clothes.

"You're going to be fine, my love. Be strong for me, live your life, fall in love and have the family you've always dreamed of. Do it for me"

Harry shook his head, not seeing a life where he didn't have you by his side. But when he saw your form, he couldn't help but promise you what you wanted from him.

"I love you, Harry. Always have and always will. Take me back to my parents, tell them I'm sorry and that I love them" just as you spoke the words, the last breath left your lungs, your eyes losing their sparkle and becoming void.

Your body started turning cold as Harry hugged your lifeless body close to his chest and sobbing in your hair.

He vowed he would get revenge for your death and fulfill the promises he made you, even if it would cost him his life.

Your death would not be in vain. He was going to make sure of that.

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domaslut · 2 years

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CLARICE CHARLOTTE BLACKTHRONE – AESTHETIC + DRABBLE: “To love is to be weak”.

Hogwarts Mystery.

“To love is to be weak”.

Warnings: none.

Starring: Clarice (mc) and a young unknown Gryffindor.

“Is there someone you care about?” a young Gryffindor girl asked, staring up at the brunette writing on the blackboard.

Clarice quirked her eyebrows up and dropped her arm to the side, the steady sound of the white piece of chalk she was writing with died out as soon as she stopped writing. That sudden question took the witty, reserved Slytherin off guard. She was not keen to answer personal questions right away. Yet, how was she supposed to hold a grudge at the kid she was tutoring? She was a first year Gryffindor, a kid belonging to her rival house. Yet, for some reason, she did not feel like snapping at her, or scaring her away.

“This is a rather personal question, kid. – she chimed, cocking her head to the side and chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully – I think we all care about someone. Still, I do not think it’s wise to let strangers know about our feelings and the people we love. One day, I guess you will surely understand what I am talking about” the blue-eyed girl said then, flashing a thin-lipped smile at the lively child beside her.

“Why? Loving feels good! I think we should always let people know how we feel about them” the blonde, chatty girl noted, making a faint smile cross Clarice’s glossy lips.

That kid was a perfect candidate to sort into Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat had definitely picked the right House for her. The older girl felt almost ashamed of herself and her inability to confess her feelings to the guy she had always been in love with. Being lectured by a first year prick was humiliating.

“Yeah, we should, you are right. – she agreed, reaching out her hand to pat on her interlucutor’s head motherly, just like she wished her mother had done with her when she was younger – However, sometimes, confessing your feelings might get you in trouble. Some people aren’t as good as they appear to be: they’re evil and evil people will hurt the ones you love to hurt you. To love is to be weak. Do not let them make you vulnerable, alright?”.

Clarice did not falter, her eyes boring into the bright green ones of the naïve girl who had been pestering her with inappropriate questions for two hours straight. Why was she acting so out of character? Why did she want to protect that little girl from the Dark Menace lurking in the shadows? Was she not one of them too?

The petite Gryffindor pouted, narrowing her eyes at her tutor “That still doesn’t answer my question! Who do you love? And what can I do to save the ones I love?” she quipped, colors draining from her puffed cheeks.

Clarice sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in distress “Ah-ah, calm down your spirits, kid. I’m not going to dignify you with an answer. I think you’ve learnt your lessons: do not tell anyone who you long for” she stated then, grabbing her green necktie from the desk and walking past a rather abashed and astonished child. She was done playing the role of the “loving older sister”.

She was about to cross the threshold, when the mild voice of the young student pierced her ears once again “Hey, wait! What would you do, if someone went after the ones you love?”.

She stopped on her tracks, her lips curling up into a wicked smile. The same smile she had when she had fought off a student about to jinx the one she cared about: Felix Rosier.

“I’d burn them alive, but that’s a story for another time” she told the kid, running off through a desert corridor. Nor regrets, neither resentment permeated her voice: she had been genuine about it. She would have killed for him.

[let me know what you think about my Mc and my writing style, if you please! ^_^ your opinion matters!].

#hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mc #felix rosier x reader #slytherin #chester davies #bill weasley #felix rosier #death eaters #ravenclaw #gryffindor #hogwarts houses #hufflepuff #harry potter #hogwarts #origibal character #rowan khanna

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reginaaxxwrites · 2 years

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Soft Spot (Cedric Diggory)

You are Theodore Nott's older sister here. So, that means you are a pure-blood Slytherin.

Also, this is a long story one-shot because I got into it lol. This was like 4.5k words. I tried to make it not too boring.

*****

Cedric Diggory x Fem!Reader

*****

They couldn't believe that the Golden Boy, Cedric Diggory, has a huge crush on a cold-hearted Slytherin girl, who was in his same year.

His friends have wondered if he had gone mental for liking her. Merlin, does she scares everyone without doing anything yet. But Cedric believed that somewhat she has a spot soft. I mean, everyone has it.

This made him more determined to pursue her. To find it all out and to get to know her.

"Mate, you are mental. Did you know that?" Smith looped his arm around his friend. Walking through the corridors near the courtyard, girls would giggle every time Cedric would look at them.

"Leave me alone, Zack." He rolled his eyes. Ignoring his friend's side comments and then he saw the girl he was looking for.

She was sitting near the fountain with her two Slytherin friends. She clearly wasn't listening to them as she was busy practicing a spell with her wand.

"Ah, you know I've been wondering." Smith continued to talk. "How were you supposed to know her if you don't even have the pluck of courage to ask her out? Unless... you are also scared of her, Ced." His friend teased and gave him a nasty look.

It wasn't that because he is scared of her--which he isn't. He didn't know how would he start a conversation with her. Normally, he would've engaged with girls well because he is Cedric Diggory.

But why was it hard to talk to her?

Why wasn't his charms weren't working on her?

He was smitten with her even his friends knew how much he was in love with her. He didn't know when, or how it happened. For all he knows, he just did.

Reader's POV

"Be quiet, Genevieve! Or I'll hex you." I hissed at her. She was being loud that I couldn't focus on practicing non-verbal spells.

"Aren't you getting excited about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament?" Daphne asked me. She was 2 years younger than me, but I get along with her well. That's because she wouldn't stop bothering me. But she was like a little sister to me, so I didn't mind her hanging around with me.

"No. Not really." I answered, feeling uninterested in the subject. Boys in my year--even girls are getting worked up and putting their names in the goblet. But, I was different.

This tournament got me a feeling that something bad is going to happen.

"I heard your little brother was mad after hearing Dumbledore's announcement about the age of sixteen below must not enter the tournament." I was relieved when the headmaster made that announcement. Or else, I could've hex my brother, not to enter.

"Theo's stupid. He wouldn't get chosen, anyway." I replied to Genevieve.

I heard them snort at my response. My brother is in his hormonal stage. He's a pain in the ass, really. Even more when he started to hang around with that little brat, Malfoy.

"You know... I've noticed for a while now. Diggory's been looking at you every time he sees you." Daphne and I turned around to see him looking in our directions. I raised an eyebrow at him, which caught him by surprise then return to what I was doing.

"You're delusional. He was probably looking at the girls in front of us." I eyed the girls, who were giggling too loudly that made me annoyed. Giving the girls an irritated look, they started to get up and leave.

I should've gone to go at the Black Lake instead of sitting here with a bunch of giggling girls. I let out an irritated sigh and tried a non-verbal spell. It worked because Daphne's book immediately flew straight into my lap.

"Hey! I was reading that." I gave her a laugh and hand it back to her. We spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Genevieve's stories until it was time for dinner at the Great Hall.

*****

The bad feeling about this whole tournament was still bugging me. I ignored the feeling and busy myself with studying. As the firstborn child in our family, I was obliged to be the best at everything. Being pure blood and honoring my blood, our blood, so that Theodore would set me as his role model.

I was forced to mature at such a young age. Protective over my brother so that he wouldn't experience our father's pressure of having Nott as our last name. Mother died long after she gave birth to Theo. So, I acted like a mother and sister to him. I decided to carry all of the burdens for my brother's sake.

Even though, he's a git.

"Don't make me hex you, Theo." I glared at my brother who returned my gaze.

"You're not my mother." I saw Malfoy wanted to butt in but I gave him a nasty look that scared him before he could say something.

"Don't think I don't know what you're planning!" I went closer to him and flicked his forehead. He was a few inches taller than me even though he's only 14 years old. He held his forehead in pain, ready to shout at me but stopped because he knows what will happen if he did.

"I'm not answering back because I do not wish to end up in the hospital wing." He turned his back on me and sat quietly beside Malfoy who was just sitting a few inches away from us.

Genevieve let out a snort after watching our argument. I rolled my eyes at her and sat down, waiting for the headmaster to enter the Great Hall.

"Diggory is still looking at you, Y/N." She whispered.

"I didn't need to know, Gen. Leave him be." I knew he was looking at me for a while now. All I can do was glare at him but he always returned it with his idiotic bright smile.

"Do you think he fancies you?" She asked while still looking at Diggory.

"You can have him if you want. Just don't let me hear your high-pitched giggles."

A couple of minutes later, Dumbledore finally entered the Great Hall together with the Headmaster of Durmstrang and Headmistress of Beauxbatons. If I remember, tonight is the night when they will be announcing the ones who will represent each school in the tournament.

Dumbledore started to announce the first two chosen champions as the Goblet of Fire gives its names. When it was time to announce the Hogwarts Champion. I could feel all the students stiff with excitement, waiting for it.

Finally, a piece of parchment paper flew out of the fire and Dumbledore took it. Opening it, he shouted his name.

"Cedric Diggory!" Every Hufflepuff roared with happiness. Genevieve, who sat beside me, cheered for our school's champion. I, on the other hand, clapped formally.

When Diggory shook his hands with Dumbledore, our eyes locked for a couple of seconds before he smiled widely at me and then went inside the chamber where they were told to come after announcing their name.

"I saw that." My friend grinned at me but ignored her, bringing back my attention to the Headmaster.

He was interrupted when another piece of parchment paper flew out once again from the Goblet. A lot of us were surprised. Didn't they say that only three champions were to be chosen for this tournament?

Dumbledore opened the paper once again. I saw the bewildered look on his face. That's when I knew that something was bound to happen.

"Harry Potter!"

*****

After the first task, some people started to cheer for Potter. While most of the Hufflepuffs still hated the fact that Potter even survived the first task.

While the Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor is huge heat around the school, students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons started to ask someone out for the Yule Ball. Genevieve and Daphne were already been asked out by a couple of guys.

But in the end, Genevieve went with Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff. While Daphne decided to go with my brother. I couldn't believe a second when Theo asked her in front of me.

"You're the only one left who hasn't got no one to go to the ball." Genevieve sat beside me.

"You're saying that it's like a big deal," I responded without looking at her.

"Of course, it is! Some boys from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons--even girls are trying to ask you but before they could, all you do is scare them off!" She complained.

"Thank you, because that's exactly what I was doing. I'm not going." Genevieve seems like she wanted to protest my decision but it's already been decided.

"Theo! Convince your sister!" Genevieve shouted across the room. Theo looked in our direction, shrugged his shoulders, and continued flirting with Daphne.

I stood up from the sofa, deciding to go for a walk around the Black Lake. Genevieve wanted to come but she knew I didn't need company.

Sitting on a large rock near the Lake as the cold wind touched my skin. I started to read a book that I borrowed from the Library.

A moment later, I heard a noise that made me take my wand that was placed in my pocket and pointed it in the direction where the noise came from.

"Who's there?" A familiar boy came out from the back of the tree.

"Diggory?" I lowered my wand and glared at him.

"Sorry. I didn't know you were here." I raised an eyebrow in his response.

I was ready to leave before anyone can see us and then tell the whole school about my encounter with their beloved Diggory. But he held my wrist. I looked at his eyes and heard him gulp.

"What are you doing? Let go of my wrist." I sounded irritated to get his hand off me. I'm sure I was trying to scare him.

"Sorry." Then he took his hand off. "Do you have time? I wanted to talk."

Without saying a word, I faced him and crossed my arms, waiting for him to say something. It took a while before he realized that I was waiting for him to speak.

"Sorry--"

"Stop apologizing, Diggory. What do you want?" He looks quite nervous.

"Have you got a date on the ball yet?"

"No. I don't plan on going. Is that all?" I answered, quickly.

"You aren't?" I shook my head as an answer. I could see the disappointment on his face.

Even if I go and agreed to come with him, a lot of people will be surprised to see us go together. And I hate having people's attention on me.

And I'm a Nott. I came from a pureblood family. I cannot go with a half-blood. Never. It'll be a sin. Father will be disappointed. And I can't let that happen.

"Why?"

"I don't see there's a reason for me to tell you. Goodbye, Diggory." Without waiting for his reply, I left him.

*****

As expected, Genevieve heard that I rejected Diggory. If you want to know how did she know. It was because of Smith.

"I'm writing to your father!" She shouted. She went to get a quill and a paper.

"Stop. Father wouldn't even bother. And I'm not supposed to be with half-bloods anyway." I levitated the quill and paper from her and placed them somewhere else.

"Who cares who you want to be with?! We're young." She said. "You rejected Diggory, Y/N! You must be mental. Everybody would be down to be asked by him!" She scolded me as if she were my mother and failed to set me up with some guy.

"It's just a ball, Gen. And besides, it's my choice." She took my wrist and dragged me out of the Common Room.

"What the bloody hell are you doing? Let me go or you'll regret it." I hissed at her but she ignored me. I was searching for my wand in my pocket as she spoke again.

"Your brother has your wand. I gave it to him a while ago before I could drag you." I saw her grin. I gave up and followed her willingly.

"I know you don't like me being nosy. But you need to loosen up, Y/N. After all, you're still underage. Have some fun! So, going with Diggory or not, you'll still be attending the ball with me!"

*****

I still reasoned with my friend not to bring me with her to the ball. Thought that I might ruin her date with Smith. But Smith told me that it was fine. I was annoyed at him when he came to fetch Genevieve with me. He was smiling like an idiot and I was assuming that's because she got my friend as his date.

I was wearing a dark emerald green dress robe that my mother used to own. I guess it was the right idea to agree to bring this dress robe with me.

"How do I look?" I held Genevieve's wrist before entering the Great Hall. Smith also stopped his tracks and looked at me.

"If you ask me, you look amazingly hot--but Genevieve's way hotter than you." He held his sides when Genevieve nudge it a while ago. I cast a glare at him and he turned away but still stood in his position beside his date.

"You'll be fine, Y/N. It's not like you haven't attended a ball before." She smiled at me with comfort. She was right, I shouldn't get nervous. This is just like the ball that my father, Theo, and I always attend.

Taking a deep breath, we saw Diggory entering the Hall with Chang. He caught my eyes for a second. He was surprised to see me since I told him during our last encounter that I'm not going. But then he looked away immediately. Smith, his best friend who's with us, surely notice our eye contact a few seconds ago.

He cleared his throat, offering his arm to Genevieve, which she took as her cheeks flushed red. Rolling my eyes at the two of them for making me regret that I even agreed to come with them in the first place.

I let them two go in first as I walk behind them. Some students were looking at me, and as I usually do, I glared at them. They quickly turned their attention to Genevieve and Smith.

The evening went nicely, for Genevieve and my brother. As they were indulging themselves on the dance floor with their dates. As for me, I only sat for almost 2 hours, watching them enjoying the ball. I was getting bored so I decided that after the last song played, I'll go find Genevieve and tell her that I'll be going first.

"You need to loosen up, Y/N. After all, you're still underage. Have some fun!"

It's impossible for me to have fun. It was never my nature. Maybe because I never let myself have fun.

The song was almost finished when I decided to look for Genevieve. The dance floor was crowded so I tried my best to push them away so they could give me some way. I tried to push a tall figure in front of me but held my hands and dragged me somewhere quiet.

"Can we dance?" And then there I saw his charming face. His cheeks were red, probably because of the excitement he was having and it was also cold in here.

"You're ditching your date, Diggory." Pulling away from my wrist from him.

"Nott, can we please dance?" He ignored my response and asked the same question.

One dance wouldn't hurt so I agreed to dance with him. I was expecting him to lead me to the dance floor again to dance. But we just stood in our position. He went closer to me and held my hand, pulling me close as my other hand on his shoulder and his other hand wrapped around my waist. His face was so close that even without knowing it, I looked into his eyes.

His face went closer to my ear. He breathed closer to my neck which gave me shivers. What was he doing? What I was feeling wasn't normal...

"I hope you don't mind dancing here." Even though we were a bit far from the dance floor, the music can still be heard from here. It was less crowded so I nodded as a response and as a thank you.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" We started to dance slowly.

"Not really. I'm not fond of these...things." My face changed when I saw two Gryffindors snogging at my sight. That's just disgusting. Don't they have manners? Kissing in public as if they own the place.

"I see... Well, you look absolutely beautiful, Nott. You're breathtaking." And there he gave me his bright idiotic smile. Something inside of me just wanted to burst. It was cold in here and yet why do I feel it's starting to get warm?

"Stop flirting with me, Diggory. I don't want to see your girlfriend getting angry at me." I rolled my eyes as he let out a soft chuckle.

"I don't have a girlfriend." He said whilst he placed my hand on his other shoulder and his other hand on the other side of my waist. Pulling me closer than ever. I'm starting to get nervous about what would happen next which was unusual because I never get nervous.

"Tell me to stop, Nott. And I'll pull myself away from you. I'll stop these feelings I have for you. Just say something and I'll do it." He whispered into my ear.

He was the first person to tell me that he likes me. Something in me just wants to tell him to stop so I could end this early and go into our separate ways. But there is just something inside of me that tells me not to. To continue because I wanted to know what real love feels like.

To enjoy life like other people my age does. Will he give me a better view of everything?

"I don't know what love feels like..."

My parents were engaged in a loveless marriage as it was forced to tie their families to maintain their bloodline pure. I was expecting--no I am sure that father will also do the same thing for me and my brother.

Deep in my thoughts whilst waiting for him to answer, I suddenly felt his soft lips pressed into my forehead.

"Maybe I could teach you."

*****

Not a week after that night, it was a huge gossip when they discovered that Diggory was seeing me out. Girls felt betrayed by how their beloved Diggory was in love with me. Some say I bewitched him by having him drink something that contains a love potion.

"I swear to merlin's beard. Make your girlfriends shut up or I'll do it myself, Diggory." I hissed at him. He just laughed at me and intertwined his fingers into mine.

"I wouldn't mind you handling them by yourself." He winked at me as we walk through the corridors. His girls didn't dare to glare or say something at me because they know what will happen if they did.

"Sister!" Theo approached us. "Snape was looking for you."

"Why would he look for me?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me anything else." He shrugged his shoulders and went away.

Diggory looked at me and lift our intertwined hands together as he placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand.

"I'll see you later." He smiled at me. Rolling my eyes, I let go of his hand.

"Hopefully, not," I responded.

"That's a lie." He grinned before looking for his friends.

I went into Snape's office. I greeted him and the next thing I knew everything went black.

I opened my eyes and felt the cold water all over my body. I looked at Diggory who was holding me tightly as we both swam back into the stands where the professors were waiting for us. They immediately wrapped us with a thick cloth. Genevieve went closer to me to check if I was okay.

"Thank Merlin you're alright!" She sighed with relief and went in to hug me.

Another thick cloth wrapped around me and helped me to get up. Their arms wrapped around me, caressing the side of my arm.

"I'm sorry, Nott. I'm really sorry." Diggory's face was filled with guilt but I made sure that it was fine.

"You need to learn how to stop apologizing for something you didn't do, Cedric."

*****

It was finally the third and final task. I was starting to get nervous and worried for Cedric. But he assured me a couple of times that it was fine, that he can handle it. The feeling of something bad will happen in this tournament was still here.

"If you don't come back, I'll find you and kill you myself." I glared at him as he laughs at me.

"I do not know if that's the way you show your emotions or a threat."

"I'm serious, Diggory." I hate to admit that I'm really falling for him. I thought it would be impossible but he did break through my walls. I don't know what he did but he sure taught me how to love.

"A kiss for me for good luck?" He grinned and I ignored his request.

"Keep dreaming, Diggory." I went outside the tent and went to find Genevieve, together with the other Hufflepuffs.

"Looks like you enjoy making out with Diggory." Smith winked at me and raised my middle finger at him.

The four champions went inside the maze. The first one to come out was Fleur, Beauxbatons' champion. Then there's Krum, Durmstrang's champion. This means Potter and Cedric were the only ones left inside.

I was starting to get worried. The bad feeling I couldn't shake off, but Genevieve and Smith kept telling me that everything will be okay. That I should have faith in Cedric. I don't care if he loses or if he wins, what matters to me is that he will come back home safely to his family, and his friends. He will come back home safe to me...

Merlin, he's driving me crazy.

Then the bands started to play loudly. Students and professors started to gather around as the three of us join through the crowd. I heard Fleur scream which made me nervous to death.

Please...

"Voldemort's back... He's back..." Potter cried while he was hugging his body. Cedric's body. Theo and I met our gaze when Potter mentioned You-know-who returned.

You-know-who's back... that means...

"Cedric, he got knocked out. I don't know if he's... I just brought him back with me. I couldn't leave him there." He cried once more. I could feel my throat tighten. I wanted to get closer and check if he was alive but his parents and Madam Pomfrey went first.

I saw her check his pulse and saw the relief on her face.

"He's just unconscious. He needs to get to the Hospital Wing, quickly."

*****

Three days passed and I haven't got the chance to see him. I did not want to see him. With Potter announcing that You-know-who is back, this made me worried so bad. I could see my brother's face, it was emotionless. But I knew he was also worried.

We weren't proud to have our father as a death eater. This also means when we come in age, we will have to bear the mark. I couldn't tell Cedric everything. But I think it's the best way if I end up everything. We weren't supposed to be together in the first place.

I won't forgive myself if something happens to him.

"Madam Pomfrey says he can have visitors." Genevieve sat beside me. We were the only ones left in the Common Room. I didn't answer her and just continued to look at the fireplace. "Whatever's in your mind Y/N, you should stop it."

"It's for the better, Gen," I said without looking at her.

"Then what about you?" I looked at her with tears in my eyes. This was the first she saw me crying because I never cried at anything. I was heartless and cold, and everybody was scared of me. Because that's how I want them to view me. Genevieve wrapped her arms around me and caressed me.

"You spent your whole life obeying his rules. Living your life for him. But what about yourself? Does everything you do, is truly what you want? I saw the look on your face when you started to go out with Diggory. He changed you--no. He made you be yourself. You're you when you're with him. You're free. So, for once, Y/N... Do not let go of the things that gave you hope, freedom, and happiness." I continued to cry as she comforted me with words that gave me realization.

"It's not in our traits as a Slytherin but...be brave." We both let out a soft laugh. Pulling away from her, she wiped my tears.

"Thank you, Gen."

"It's nothing. Now, go visit him. He's been dying to see you. Quite a stubborn if you ask me. He refused to take medicines unless he sees you first."

The next day, I entered the Wing and saw Madam Pomfrey treating another student. She leads me the way to Cedric. And there I saw him, talking to Smith but immediately ignored his friend when he saw me.

"That's my cue to leave." Smith stood up and went close to my direction. "Take it easy on him, Nott." Then he left.

I went to the chair where Smith was sitting earlier. I gave Cedric a soft smile as he took my hand into his.

"Were you crying, love? I'm sorry I made you worry."

"I did not cry. It's just dust... I'm allergic to them." He smiled and rolled his eyes at me.

"You're a bad liar." I still couldn't look at him. I kept my eyes on the ground refusing to meet his gaze. "Y/N. Will you look at me, please?" I didn't listen to him.

I was forced to look at him when he pulled me closer, cupping my face. He was surprised to see me crying. He was panicking so he just pulled me closer to his chest, making me lean on his.

"Tell them that I'm crying and you're dead." I threatened him between my cries. He laughed at me and continued to caress my back, kissing my head as he inhaled, smelling my perfume. I could feel my whole body start to relax in his embrace.

"I finally found your soft side." He muttered.

"And what is it?"

"Me." Then he continued to cuddle me in his hospital bed, his arms wrapped around my waist as I lay comfortably in his chest. Ignoring that Madam Pomfrey might catch us comfortably cuddling each other.

*****

Okay, this was long. Took me 3 days to finish it. I realized how hard it was to come up with a good story. I even looked into the internet and Harry Potter books just to check if I'm writing the scenario correctly.

Also, did you recognize the reference I just wrote, if you still remembered reading it?

But anyway, I still hoped you enjoyed it, guys!

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honeybeejam · 4 months

Text

new year's eve; theodore nott x reader

pairing: theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader, slight harry potter x reader, reader is flirty with all of her friends pretty much

warnings: reader presents as and is referred to as a woman who uses she and her pronouns, alcohol and drugs, partying, swearing, suggestive – characters are of age!

synopsis: it’s new year’s eve, and pansy convinces you to seduce harry in order to make theo jealous.

word count: 3k

There’s nothing you hated more than parties. Between the sweaty bodies, lowered inhibitions, and the bass thumping through the floor of whichever house’s common room met their unsightly fate each weekend, there were enough reasons for you to avoid them. Even New Year’s Eve, a holiday for partying, was one you dreaded. You had better things to do most nights, and the noise gave you migraines. Cedric would come barreling up to the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall at breakfast the next day in order to dish out all of the gossip from the night before, anyway. You would listen politely and nod your head, engaged but too kind to want to share the details with anyone else. That’s if you hadn’t heard them from Pansy first. As much as you loved being friends with both of them, you were never one to gossip.

Unfortunately, your task of the night was to do exactly what you hated. Pansy absolutely refused to let you miss a party that Slytherin was hosting, especially because you were all at Hogwarts for the holidays. The Slytherins had a tradition of hosting this particular party, outdoing themselves each year. You had happened to miss it every single year, but you wanted to fulfill her wish for your last one. She claimed that not only would it be more fun with you, but it also promoted “interhouse unity” and that it’s good for the younger students to see your friendship.

She didn’t respond when you reminded her that no younger students would be in attendance.

You wanted to make her happy anyway, so you promised yourself you’d agree to her later.

You were more of an introvert than most Hufflepuffs, preferring to keep a wide group of acquaintances and a far narrower group of friends. As odd as it seemed to most, that group of friends was home to the most notorious Slytherins at Hogwarts. Each of them was descendants of the vilest Death Eaters in wizarding history. You didn’t see them as any different. They were all big softies, but you knew that part of that was your own influence.

You had met Pansy in your first year, during a double Transfiguration class with the Slytherins. Pansy had answered McGonagall’s question incorrectly, earning a snort from Draco. She had sprinted from the room in tears. Despite protests and a detention threat from the Professor, you sprinted after her. You two had been inseparable ever since your talk in the corridors that afternoon. You watched each other grow, holding hands through every struggle you faced. You were there for Pansy when she needed help with processing emotions and understanding herself, while Pansy defended you when you were made fun of for being too gentle or soft. Pansy had given you the nickname Sunshine, claiming your gentle nature and normally bubbly energy were reminiscent of the massive star. Everyone began to adopt the nickname, and by third year you barely heard your real name.

Which is why you were so reluctant to say no to Pansy, no matter the circumstances. And that proved to be an issue in your current situation, when Pansy was on her knees in front of the sofa in the Slytherin common room, pleading. She had called an “emergency family meeting” after the boys returned from their morning Quidditch practice. Quidditch training for the Slytherins didn’t stop for anything, even the holidays.

“Please, Sunshine! I cannot show up to a party we’re hosting without you! If you wear gold and I wear green, we’d complement each other perfectly. We’ll be the hottest there!” She whined; her hands clasped together dramatically.

“Wow, Pansy, I never pegged you as the begging type.” Draco drawled. He was sitting in an armchair nearby, wrapped in a plush blanket.

‘If you don’t shut that bloody mouth of yours, I’ll peg you, Malfoy.” She hissed back, popping her hand up gracefully to present her middle finger to the blonde boy. While Pansy sat in front of Sunshine’s spot on the couch, their friends sprawled out over the rest of the common room. Pansy had called an “emergency family meeting” immediately after their early morning quidditch practice, and they were all exhausted. Draco was the only one who was fully awake in his armchair. Opposite Draco sat Blaise in a matching armchair, only slightly more tired. Draco gave him a glare when he suggested that the pegging might be enjoyable, since Draco gives off “bottom energy.”

Mattheo sat in the center of the sofa with his head leaning on your shoulder. He was awake, but his eyes were shut, trying to convey to all of you that he was uninterested in your shenanigans. Next to him was Enzo, his head resting on the arm of the sofa as he stretched his legs over you two. Theodore was star-fished on the rug, completely knocked out.

“You know I’ll never force you to come, but maybe you’ll finally get that kiss?” Pansy mentioned in a lower voice, giving you a knowing look.

Your focus turned briefly to Theodore softly snoring on the carpet below you, clad in his Quidditch jersey and a plush coat. A beanie covered his hair, likely to prevent the winter weather from bothering him.

He looked peaceful, beautiful.

You had developed a crush on Theodore Nott right after becoming close with Pansy. She introduced you to the boys nearly immediately, grateful to have another feminine presence among the group. She had told you that “the circle jerk needed another innocent bystander to suffer” with her. You immediately fell for Theodore’s quiet, subdued nature and his clear blue eyes. The more time you spent around him, the more you wanted to kiss his cheek when he was rambling or hold his hand when you sat next to each other in Potions. The thoughts that filled your mind at night were much less sweet. Over the years you had tried to get over your crush on him, but it had quickly developed into infatuation and was currently at a level of love that excited and terrified you. Pansy always told you that she could tell he felt the same, but you had never let her convince you.

Mattheo opened his eyes to what Pansy said, seeing you blush deeply as you shook your head, your own eyes still focused on the boy on the floor.

“You know he doesn’t fancy me, Pans. I can’t embarrass myself like that. I would be mortified.”

“So, then you blame it on the alcohol, are you daft? It’s New Year’s Eve! The perfect excuse and the perfect plan to get some dick!” Mattheo cackled at himself, lifting his head from your shoulder to flick you in the forehead. You responded by raising your fist at him and bringing it down towards his lap, to which he leaped off the sofa and backed away. Enzo cleared his throat as you began to stand up to chase after Mattheo.

“Merlin, Sunshine. I’ll give you 10 galleons if you go.” He groaned out, smacking his head back against the armrest in annoyance. You slowly returned to your sitting position, sending Mattheo a fierce glare across the room.

Theodore stirred awake at the sound of everyone’s dramatics, offering you a reassuring smile. “It’s always more fun with you, sole mia.” He grumbled out sleepily, causing your stomach to feel warm as you tried to prevent any reaction from showing on your face. Still, you blushed, knowing you had to acknowledge him. He knew you couldn’t say no to Pansy, he was just giving you that final push along.

“That’s sweet Teddy, thank you…and you’ll mix me a drink if I go, Enzo?” Why not embrace the opportunity?

“Fine, if you two let me go back to sleep before I strangle you.”

Hello text string my old friend. I've come to talk with you again...

“You look absolutely stunning, Pansy. Luna will be thrilled.” The door to the girl’s dormitories swung open as Pansy led a half-ready Hufflepuff into the room.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” Pansy grinned, “I have a feeling Nott won’t know what’s coming for him either.”

You wore a strapless gold dress. It was silk, the fabric flowing gently down the curves of your body until it rested softly at your upper thigh. You had planned to finish getting ready with Pansy and then meet the boys in the common room.

“Theodore isn’t looking, you know. I heard just last week that he had gotten with some Ravenclaw. He isn’t interested, especially not in me.” You mumbled as you applied your lipgloss. “Good thing I’m so familiar with the corner of the Slytherin common room, sounds like the sofa is calling my name for the night.”

Pansy turned to you to complain but froze when the two of you made eye contact. A brilliant idea popped into her head. She smiled at you with a glint in her eyes, and you knew she was up to something.

“Would you fuck Potter?” She began to laugh hysterically as you spit water at the bathroom mirror, sputtering and coughing.

“Fucking what?”

The devious Slytherin girl grabbed your jaw and turned you back towards the mirror, squeezing your face until you understood what she meant.

“I’m wearing Gryffindor colors?” You asked softly, beginning to understand what Pansy was getting at.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but Theo isn’t very fond of people putting their hands on what’s his,” She spoke with calculated precision, trying to convey her point as gently as possible. “Lipgloss transfers, and red looks hot on you.”

The way you shrieked would’ve had any bystander believe you had met your fate in the girls’ dormitories, but you were doubled over in laughter, giggles spilling from your lips as you looked at Pansy like she had turned into a cerberus. “You want me, who is hopeless at flirting, to seduce Harold Potter? The guy who couldn’t take a hint if it was taped to a bludger and thrown at his head? Sure.”

“I can teach you the basics, Sunshine. You’re not hopeless, I promise. I can tell you that just by what I see in the corridors. You get a lot of stares; you just need confidence. Here. Roll your shoulders back and lift your chin a little. You’re pretty, flaunt it.” Pansy walked across the room and stood at the far wall, turning around to face you.

“When you walk tonight? Sway your hips a little,” Pansy smirked, beginning to walk towards you, her hips moving smoothly in small circles, nearly hypnotizing. She stopped a few feet from you, and her tongue darted out slightly as she licked her lower lip. She giggled. You snapped back to attention, slightly dazed.

“See? Easy. Even if you let him know it’s to make Theo jealous, Potter is a bull-headed Gryffindor. You’re wearing his colors, love, and he’s an athlete. You’ve got this in the bag,” Pansy broke out into a full laugh at that. You tilted your head slightly, contemplating. If Pansy could do it to anyone, why couldn’t you? You could even tell Harry beforehand. After so much longing, you decided it was worth the risk. You were going to make Theodore Nott jealous.

Although the Slytherin common room was usually quite dim, tonight it was filled with smoke, bodies, and flashing lights. It seemed as if they had pulled out all the stops for this one. You maneuvered your way through the crowd. You had come up with a plan with Pansy before joining the party. First, you would find the boys. You’d make sure Theodore just missed you. Then, you would approach Potter. Nothing too much, just enough for Theo to notice him with you. A little touch here, a laugh there. Hopefully, Theo would get jealous and make a move. You were starting to doubt yourself. What if he didn’t like you at all? It had been nearly seven years. What if you had misconstrued those soft smiles and longing glances? You shook with fear at the thought of rejection but pushed it aside as you noticed Mattheo and Enzo over by the drinks. You rushed over, making eye contact with Enzo to remind him of his promise. As if on cue, he lifted a cup, handing it to you as you reached their sides.

“You look fucking hot, Sunshine,” Mattheo blurted out shamelessly, looking you up and down. He was never one to keep his thoughts to himself. Usually comments like this were followed by Theo threatening him, to which he would finally shut up. However, you found it hilarious.

“Thanks, Matty,” you laughed. “On a mission tonight.” You took a sip of the drink, wincing. It tasted like Enzo knew what you were up to and added alcohol accordingly.

“Operation Ride the Italian Stallion?” Mattheo and Pansy were the only ones who you had officially told, being the closest to them. Mattheo often made fun of you for it, finding humor in the way you’d blush and deflect.

“Holy shit, Sunshine, you have a crush on Theo?” Enzo interrupted suddenly.

“Where have you been? And what the hell is in this drink?” you asked, taking another gulp. Your crush on Theodore was quite obvious, at least to everyone except for Lorenzo and Theodore himself.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I know its strong.” You grinned at that and choked down the remainder.

After a few minutes of talk about Enzo’s latest escapade, a tall man came walking towards the table: one you immediately recognized as Theodore Nott. Your Theo, which meant it was time.

You spotted Harry on the opposite side of the room, throwing an apologetic glance towards the other boys as you made your way towards him. You swayed your hips slightly as you went, just as Pansy had taught you. Theo looked at you in confusion in the corner of your eye, but you turned your attention fully towards Harry once you reached him. You had noticed Theo glance down at your waist, though, filling you with giddiness and confidence.

“Hey, Harry! I thought I’d check in on you, it’s been a while.” A blatant lie. You had just spoken to him last Wednesday during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Great start.

“Hey, Sunshine! Is everything okay?” he asked, voice laced with friendly concern. You winced at how he had already noticed your weirdness. You were friends with Harry, but you had never been around him without the company of Hermione (and occasionally Ron). You thought he was less familiar with you. Despite the mess up, you leaned in towards his ear, speaking at a nearly inaudible volume over the music.

“Look over to your left, near the drinks. Is there a tall, devilishly handsome man currently glaring in this direction with the fire of a thousand suns?” You placed a hand on his bicep, whether to push the narrative further or let him know that you were acting was unclear to him. He blushed and stuttered anyhow.

“Y-yeah, Nott? I’d say he’s got at least four Unforgivables on the mind, and, uh, there’s only three.” You smiled as wide as you could to try and let him know you were only teasing, but he only glanced at your lips to examine the red gloss painted over them. You decided to tell him outright, not wanting to unfairly lead him on.

“Thank Merlin it’s working, I thought Matty was going to kill me if I didn’t get his attention,” You pushed just a little further, placing a hand on his chest. “My friends have been pestering me to do this since at least fourth year. I owe you at least three Sugar Quills and a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees. I’ll throw in a chocolate frog or two if you can muck up and do something bold.”

Although Harry was shy, you knew he was a simple boy. You knew the way to his heart from the few nights you sat in the Gryffindor common room until the early hours of the morning with the Golden Trio. He would always carry candy on hand, and you would always replenish his stock. Usually, it was in exchange for the latest gossip you had learned from Cedric and Pansy or to make up for what you had stolen during your time together, but tonight was special.

He perked up at the offer of candy and immediately leaned in towards your neck, presumably to whisper in your ear or something of the sort. Instead, you remembered what Pansy said earlier.

Lipgloss stains.

You tilted your head to press a kiss under Harry’s ear, giggling as his head lifted to look at you in shock. Before you could explain your thought process, you felt a firm grip on your side, near your hips. The hand spun you around, giving you a full view of Theodore’s broad chest. Your glance trailed up to meet his, pausing slightly at his shoulders to admire.

“Teddy,” you addressed him politely and with fervor, nervous and excited about what would happen next.

“Sunshine,” He responded, his eyes breaking contact to drift down your body slowly. He took his time to reach your face again, his glare hardening when he made it there. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course, Teddy!” He gently grasped your wrist, wasting no time pulling you towards the doors to the corridor. He stopped abruptly to whip around towards Harry.

“Tieni le mani lontane dalle mie cose, Potter,” Theodore hissed. Neither of you knew what he had said, but you both knew it wasn’t friendly. You mouthed a ‘sorry, thank you’ at him just in case.

When the door to the common room closed, Theo immediately trapped you in between himself and the cold wall of the dungeons. The corridor was empty: all of the students were either home for the holidays or in the common room behind you. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the anger buzzing like a wasps’ nest.

He spoke to you gently but firmly, his accent growing stronger as his frustration poured out.

“Would you like to tell me what that was, sole mia?” He asked sarcastically, looking down at your lips to see the red gloss reflect off of the dim lights in the empty hallway. He shifted to press his knee between your legs, pushing them apart slightly. You took in a deep breath, your voice shaking slightly.

“What what was, Teddy?”

“Your little show with the Chosen One? And why are you in Gryffindor colors? You look beautiful when you wear any color, bella ragazza. but you truly belong in green. Definitely not gold, and especially not red.”

You felt a slight pressure on your lower lip as you looked down to see Theodore’s thumb in the center. He pulled gently, dragging the color down your chin as he grinned at you. “I don’t know if you can tell, sole mia, but I’m entranced by you, body and mind.” He confessed, letting out a heavy exhale at the end of his sentence.

“Please tell me you aren’t joking, Theodore. You wouldn’t do that to me.” Tears threatened to spill as you finally glanced at him. His eyes were soft, loving. He was serious.

“Never. You’re constantly in my thoughts, Sunshine. You make me smile even when I feel like I can’t feel anymore. We call you Sunshine because you bring light to our lives, you know? I’d be six feet under my dad’s heel without you,” His eyes softened as he caught the pink dusting your cheeks and the upturned corners of your mouth.

“You just call me Sun, actually,” You correct with a smile, hoping he’ll approve of your Italian.

“Sole mia. My sun.” He tilted her chin up to force her to look at him as he let out a low, gravelly “Mine.”

You suddenly heard cheering from the common room. Shouts of numbers rang out through the dungeons. You followed along quietly, each number getting closer and closer until you finally hit one with the crowd, your voice barely escaping.

His lips were on yours, the red gloss smearing over his face and mixing with saliva and years of longing. You tasted like firewhiskey and cinnamon and him of butterbeer, an intoxicating mix that made your head spin. When you finally broke apart to gasp for air, you pressed your forehead against his. His eyes were wide, pupils so dilated that his blue eyes looked nearly black. You couldn’t read the emotions going through his head, but you knew they were similar to the ones you felt stirring inside yourself.

“Happy New Year, Teddy.”

“Happy New Year, sole mia. Any chance you’d like to smear that lipstick somewhere else?”

“Theodore!”

note: “Tieni le mani lontane dalle mie cose, Potter,” means “Keep your hands off what’s mine, Potter.” I don’t speak Italian so please let me know if you notice any mistakes! i hope you enjoy, happy new years xx

- bee <3

#harry potter #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #harry potter x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x you #theo nott smut #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott/you #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #hp #harry james potter x reader

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