#so much food | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phnmnt · 2 years

Text

Shen Yuan shixiong AU - Part 20

Shen Yuan is the first to take a step inside the gates, Luo Binghe following him closely. But the latter is distracted. Why… did he find the city so familiar? Shen Yuan slows his pace without saying a word, knowing full well what his shidi was thinking.

He looks around him, trying to remember what the original novel described about the place. Shen Yuan quickly discovers that Airplane had the imagination to create such a place, but lacked the words to describe it. The scenery was creepily realistic. Nothing like a typical dream where everything was fuzzy and lacked details. And the people were… odd. They walked around like mindless husks, their pace slow and heavy. One passes by them and Shen Yuan can feel his heart almost flying out of his ribcage. That person was faceless. No eyes, mouth or nose. And they were completely silent.

Shen Yuan can feel Luo Binghe’s own uneasiness without looking at him. “Shixiong, why do they all look like that?” His shidi’s voice is breathless and Shen Yuan grabs his hand without thinking, a strange kind of electric shock climbing his arm when Luo Binghe tightens the hold. “No one with the ability to control others’ dreams can recreate living beings with precision, especially crowds like this. It’s easy to do so with inanimate objects since they do not move, but people and animals all have different personalities. Think of it as a single actor playing the roles of all the characters present in a play, all at once. However…” Shen Yuan stops walking and turns to face his shidi. “However, I can think of one person, a demon elder, who might be powerful and talented enough to do so. He is known as Meng Mo.” Luo Binghe stares curiously at his shixiong. “Meng Mo?” Shen Yuan nods and proceeds to explain who Meng Mo is.

The demon elder used to be famous for his brillant mind and talent. But too much power often attracts divine punishment and he lost his physical body long ago, leaving only his powerful spirit to wander. Now, he lived like a parasite, absorbing his hosts' spiritual energy. Shen Yuan finishes explaining with a sigh. Just as he is about to resume walking, he sees Luo Binghe freeze with a surprised but confused look. So the fun part is finally starting…

Indeed, Luo Binghe had recognized someone in the crowd, making him forget the questions he wanted to ask his shixiong. Shen Yuan returns to his clueless side character role and asks him what’s wrong. “Shixiong, those people have faces!” Of course they have faces, they are… Luo Binghe lets go of his hand, passing by him and intending to tail the group of people with faces. Feeling somewhat complicated about being abandoned this easily, Shen Yuan follows along.

They follow the group turns after turns until they reach a small dirty alley. The next thing he knows, a small child is mercilessly getting kicked black and blue right before their eyes. The group of bullies laugh and spit, ignoring them entirely. Shen Yuan knows who the child is. He takes a peek at his shidi. Sure enough, the latter is motionless, his eyes fixed on the small and frail body. Even if Shen Yuan had predicted it, he couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. Because it wasn’t just a dream. It was Luo Binghe’s memories. “Shidi, Meng Mo is only trying to get to you-” Shen Yuan suddenly feels a boiling pressure coming from Luo Binghe, also burning him when he tries to grab his shidi’s again once more. He backs off, feeling more emotionally hurt than anything else. “Binghe! Listen to me! This is just a dream! Don’t let your emotions control you!”

But Luo Binghe wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were rapidly turning red, making him blind to anything else but his inner demons taking root in his heart. His shidi hadn’t woken his demon blood yet and wasn’t strong enough to resist such a strong offense from the dream demon. Without warning, the alley changes into another scene. Meng Mo obviously decided to strike while the iron was hot, not sparing Luo Binghe in any way. Shen Yuan hardly has the time to process the following memory. He did know how Luo Binghe’s adoptive mother died but… Actually seeing it was a completely different thing. He can’t fathom how his shidi must be feeling now. Shen Yuan tries to call his name a few times, but Luo Binghe seems to be slowly sinking into a maelstrom of despair, not hearing him. Powerless, Shen Yuan can only watch as the scenery shifts to another.

Then another. The more Luo Binghe sees, the more Shen Yuan suffocates, barely able to stand the pressure of his shidi’s inner demons. The scene changes again. It changes to a vast natural mountain hall. One that Shen Yuan knows far too well to ever forget. This is a place where holes were dug every time Cang Qiong Mountain opened its gate to new disciples. It's where he himself dug holes for half a day before being accepted as Shen Qingqiu’s first disciple: Qing Jing Peak hall. In the memory, shadows of small kids and teenagers are scattered everywhere, frozen in digging motion. The only one actually moving is kneeling at the far back. Seeing him, Shen Yuan’s heart softens. It’s Luo Binghe, the day he was also accepted as Shen Qingqiu’s disciple. How small he was… All of a sudden, the pressure coming from his shidi goes completely still.

That’s when he hears a very familiar voice. “Shizun, this disciple agrees with shimei. Let’s give the boy a chance. I believe he has potential.” His own voice. A younger version of himself is standing next to Shen Qingqiu, holding the hand of a young Ning Yingying who is looking at the small boy with curiosity. “Shi… xiong…” Luo Binghe’s eyes flicker. Shen Yuan, knowing this was his only window to bring back his shidi, is about to answer him when everything suddenly goes dark. "Binghe! Those are your-"

Yet another scene appears and the pressure comes back even stronger than before, stopping his next words from leaving his mouth. Shen Yuan clicks his tongue. He can barely see and his whole body feels terribly heavy. He spends all his remaining strenght trying to figure out what this scene was about. Their shizun. Poisonous words. A fight. A feeling of rage is floating all around... Shen Yuan is violently thrown out of the memory. He can... he can finally breathe. But when he looks up again, he knows the situation is very far from being ideal. Luo Binghe was standing in front of shadowy figures, more illusions made by Meng Mo, looking ready to attack them. And he does. Over and over. Madly.

The next thing he knows, Shen Yuan is holding his shidi by the shoulders, preventing him from throwing himself on the illusions. “BINGHE, STOP! YOU’LL DESTROY YOUR OWN MIND!” But it’s useless. Luo Binghe’s blood is boiling and he easily slips from his shixiong’s grip, attacking left and right once more. So Shen Yuan does the only thing he can do. He shields. With his own body. He receives the blows directly to the chest and knows that if it wasn’t for the dream realm, he’d have vomited mouthfuls of blood. He gently but firmly grabs his shidi’s elbow that was still pointed at his chest, half to make physical contact with his shidi and half in an attempt to keep himself standing.

Instantly, Luo Binghe’s mind clears and he freezes, his restrained elbow still pointed at his shixiong’s chest. He stares blanky at Shen Yuan, who looks like he would fall to the ground with a single breath. In the corner of his vision, he can see the remnants of spiritual power he had used to attack. His mind finishes sobering up, the vague memory of what he just did acting like a cold shower, turning his face stark white. In panic, he goes to support his shixiong. “Shixiong! Why didn’t you hit back?!” Regret and worry could be heard in his trembling voice and fat tears were already forming in his eyes, wetting his eyelashes in a very beautiful way. Shen Yuan smiles. “Foolish child… The point was to ensure you wouldn’t be injured. And… shixiong would never hurt you in the first place.” Luo Binghe protests in between sobs. He knows his shixiong. The latter was the one who took care of him as soon as he entered the sect, teaching him and bandaging his many scratches and wounds, never losing patience with him. Since day one, His shixiong never stopped working and taking care of others, pushing himself to the limit. He already collapsed once, and, while he was supposed to be recuperating, got injured for his sake after those three matches against the Demon Realm. Now, barely a day had passed and his shixiong was hurt again. And this time by his own hand!

Seeing his shidi’s cheeks transforming into two endless rivers of tears, Shen Yuan wipes one of them soothingly, feeling as if his heart has been stabbed with a knife. (“Airplane, one day I will make you regret making Luo Binghe go through all of this.”) “Binghe, listen to me. There is absolutely no scenario where I would willingly allow you to feel pain. The day- The day you became my shidi, I vowed to myself that I would protect you. And I refuse to break this promise. You have more than potential, Binghe. You have heart and passion. And shixiong will always be there to make sure it can only keep on growing." Luo Binghe felt breathless. He couldn’t look away. He could feel a scalding current of energy coursing throught his veins, running all the way up to his heart. And something… finally clicks in his mind. A simple word finally anchors all his thoughts safely, forming a beautiful web of cherished memories and feelings, settling his previous chaotic emotions.

Love. Luo Binghe had fallen in love with his shixiong.

Shen Yuan, having no idea what kind of revelation his shidi was currently having, sees that Luo Binghe’s tears has stopped and takes a teasing tone. “Besides, shixiong can take a beating. I wouldn’t be Shen Qingqiu’s first disciple otherwise. Shidi shouldn’t blame himself. What is a scar or two if it means I protected those I cherish?” He lets his body lean on Luo Binghe, his knees threatening to give out, completely missing the odd expression at the mention of scars. “However, the ways of demons are extremely unpredictable and hard to guard against. If you don’t want to run into the same kind of trouble in the future, you must keep training to become stronger.”

Luo Binghe simply locks gazes with him. His dark, deep eyes make Shen Yuan feel like he was falling in a pool of stars, where hopes and dreams where still safely craddled… and something else. But Shen Yuan can’t put his finger on it. All he knows is that he can feel a tension in his limbs, his heart going crazy under the intense gaze. “I understand.” Luo Binghe tightens his hold on his shixiong’s body with no intention of letting go. “I definitely won’t let it happen a second time.”

But Shen Yuan already stopped listening to him. In his mind, he is holding the system by the throat, shaking it back and forth with anger. Why is he the one stuck with this script?! It makes no sense! Being hit by the protagonist beam was no joke and his poor heart couldn’t take it. Shen Yuan wanted to force feed the system the butterflies stuck in his stomach in revenge. In reality, only a beat of silence endures before he opens his mouth once more. “But shixiong thinks it’s fine if shidi doesn’t become strong. In the end, whether you achieve getting stronger or not, shixiong will stay by your side and protect you as long as it is needed.” A lifetime? Easily done if that meant he could stay alive... as his shidi’s mentor? Ally? Something like that.

Shen Yuan had no idea of the effect these word had on the young Luo Binghe. The latter silently turns his burning face away, trying to control his rapidely growing feelings and scolding himself for being innapropriate in such a situation. They were still stuck in his dream afterall.

At long last, as if feeling what Luo Binghe was thinking, Meng Mo's shadow appears in front of them. Shen Yuan can feel himself relax at once. If the demon elder was here, it meant that the scenario was about to reach its conclusion. Sure enough, hardly a few lines where exchanged that Shen Yuan was sent into a dream within the dream, completely collapsing in Luo Binghe’s arms. “Shixiong!”

While Shen Yuan was forcibly falling into another kind of dream, Meng Mo quickly (and frustratingly) discovers that most of the boy’s thoughts were linked to this very annoying and weak person Luo Binghe wouldn’t even let go of. But the boy was loyal and had a very strong resolve. Meng Mo casually reveals the presence of something remarkable hidden within Luo Binghe’s body, something linked to the demon race, thoroughly shocking him for a small moment. When Luo Binghe asks him if it’s possible to remove that mysterious hidden power, the demon elder tells him that probably nobody could do it, given how it wouldn’t even reveal itself to him, and takes the opportunity to try to recruit him as his disciple.

However, the offer of cultivating the demonic path doesn’t appeal to Luo Binghe at all. But Meng Mo is relentless, and he quickly changes tactics after looking at the person cradled in the boy’s arms. “Not only would the demonic path help you control that thing in your body, give you benefits to your cultivation that normal people can only dream of, but you could also leap a thousand steps a day and stand above the masses. You could protect him.” Meng Mo can see Luo Binghe wavering at those words. That shixiong of his was a nuisance, but if he had to keep him alive to please the boy, might as well use his existance. After all, a mere memory of him had the power to calm the boy’s mind, almost breaking the illusion completely.

To his surprise, Luo Binghe refuses once more. After a few back and forth, Meng Mo finds himself losing his grip on the negociations. The boy had more spine and brains than he initially thought… “This elder will give you time, so think through it carefully. Otherwise, I’ll trap your and your shixiong’s consciousnesses within the dream realm forever.” It was the wrong thing to say. Luo Binghe’s head snaps up, a cold and intimidating light flashing in his eyes. “If you harm shixiong, any potential agreement is void!” Meng Mo simply answers with a bellowing laughter, now pleseantly intrigued. “Boy, you really have quite the temper!” And everything returns to darkness.

Luo Binghe wakes up with a start, his body drenched with cold sweat. On the other side of the room, he hears his shixiong waking up just as abruptly with a gasp. He quickly kicks his covers, getting out of bed. “Shixiong!” He sees the latter turn to him with a green face, looking positively about to throw up. As he is making his way to him, Luo Binghe grabs a random pot by the table and hands it to him.

The system chooses this moment to ding, being appropriate as always. “Congratulations on completing the scenario ‘Meng Mo’s Barrier’! The system awards you +500pts! Please continue to work hard!” Shen Yuan sends it his signature middle finger gesture, promising himself to fight with it later. It didn’t even give him anything for taking a whole ass poisoned armor as he was protecting his shidi earlier. This dumbass system…

A few gentle pats on his back bring him back to reality. “Shixiong, do you feel unwell?” Shen Yuan offers him a small smile. “Shixiong will be fine. Just… exhausted.” Not letting his shidi fall into his white lotus habits, he quickly changes the subject. “Did that Meng Mo give you any trouble? Let this shixiong examine you.” Luo Binghe freezes, hesitant. But Shen Yuan looked as if he wouldn’t take “no” as an answer and he slowly presented his wrist to him. Thankfully, the examination didn’t reveal Meng Mo’s presence and his shixiong nods, satisfied. Inside, Shen Yuan knows that the demon elder didn’t leave, and simply checks his shidi’s general condition. Everything was normal besides a slightly faster than usual heartbeat, which could easily be explained considering what they just went through.

Luo Binghe takes back his wrist, a complicated look on his face. Shen Yuan already knows what this is about. “Shidi, is something wrong?” Luo Binghe hesitates, opening and closing his mouth many times before making up his mind. “Shixiong, demons… are they all wicked beyond redemption? Must every last one of them be exterminated like shizun said?” Shen Yuan looks down, looking as if he was pondering the question. "There are good and bad humans. So demons must also have good and evil individuals. What we see is often only a small part of the bigger picture. If we only look at how demons victimized our people, we’ll never see the cases where humans harmed innocent demons. The line seperating our two people isn’t one based on race, but rather on tolerance. Don’t think too much about it and follow your heart, en? I- Oh…"

Shen Yuan vision flashes. Damn it. His exhaustion is catching up on him. Closely watching him, Luo Binghe feels his heart sink, seeing that his shixiong was barely able to stay awake while answering his questions. “Shixiong-“ His words die in his throat when he realises that the man had already fallen asleep while sitting. After letting out a sigh, Luo Binghe gently helps him lay back down on the bed, intending to let him sleep after everything that happened.

As he is tucking the second arm under the cover, his gaze travels upward and stops on the face scar his shixiong obtained while protecting him. In a daze, he reaches for it. His fingers gently touches the warm red scarred skin and he let them slide from the upper part of it to the bottom, right next to his shixiong’s adam’s apple. His whole hand was tingling, provoking the dangerous vortex of feelings hidden inside his heart, and he can feel his whole body tipping forward. His instincts taking over, he closes his eyes. With trembling lips, Luo Binghe tentatively kisses the middle of the scar, slightly under his shixiong’s right jaw. “Shixiong…”

A second passes. Then, it hits him. Horrified by his own scandalous action, he jumps back, almost falling down the bed. His whole face is burning and panic taking over his mind. H- How could he-? Even if he feels- At that exact moment, Shen Yuan half opens his eyes, throwing Luo Binghe’s mind and heart in a state of despair. But the former simply gazes at his shidi’s face with a blank expression before dragging him in bed with him while mumbling a few words. “…Sleep. Don’t… be scared… Sleep, shixiong… will protect… you…” Shen Yuan falls right back to sleep with a contented expression. Now only able to hear the loud beating of his own frantic heart, Luo Binghe tries to slip from his shixiong’s embrace, but soon finds it to be an impossible feat. This was going to be a long night…

// CUT (IF YOU ARE 18+, I GOT A SURPRISE FOR U ♥) Shen Yuan shixiong AU - PART 20 EXTRA (CW: Underage, non-explicit sexual content) Text: >> https://privatter.net/p/9271134 << Art: >> https://privatter.net/i/6868476 << END OF CUT //

The morning after, Shen Qingqiu comes to check on his first disciple. He opens the door, never expecting to come face to face with this unlikable disciple of his instead of his prized pupil. “What are you doing here?” Luo Binghe bows with respect. He is about to answer when Shen Yuan steps out from behind the screen by his bed, presenting a refreshed and calm expression. “Shizun, I found out shidi lost his room and a younger shidi took his place not long after.” Knowing it was his shizun’s fault but didn’t wish to antagonize or humiliate him, he decides to add another sentence to spare him. “There must have been a mistake with management, so I resolved the issue right away by letting him room with me. Shizun doesn’t have to worry, I paid for the second bed with my own money.” Shen Yuan could feel his shizun’s fury meter climbing steadily and instantly shuts up.

An awkward silence follows and Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes, his tensed jaw hidden behind his opened fan, attempting to calm his anger. “… How long?” Shen Yuan blinks, confused. “Huh?” “How long has this been going on?” Shen Qingqiu spells it out slowly, barely able to keep himself from jumping on the smaller boy who was taking advantage of his first disciple. “Um… A while?” “How. LONG.” “A- About a year? Maybe more?” Both Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan can feel the whole room go cold. Under Shen Yuan’s explanations and persistance, Shen Qingqiu miraculously ends up agreeing to the situation, not without making Luo Binghe feel his killing intent.

Strangely, Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch from beginning to end, looking directly at their master with a steady gaze. Shen Yuan pushes his shizun out of the small room, wanting to prevent any sparks from creating a fire, while promising him to follow in a minute and enjoy some fresh air together. Shen Yuan closes the door behind him, letting out a sigh. “We’ll have to wait for a while before asking now…” Luo Binghe looks at the spreaded map on the table, his expression unreadable. Shen Yuan shakes his head, feeling a bit depressed. “I’m so sorry about this, Binghe. Shizun can be… well, shizun.” “Mn. This shidi knows. I can wait.” Shen Yuan folds his arms, then starts rubbing his chin in a pensive way. “Shixiong will slowly warm shizun to the idea. Shidi-“ “Will train as usual and be patient.” They both lock eyes and Luo Binghe smiles.

Reassured, Shen Yuan lets out a small laugh before waving his hand and exiting the room, leaving Luo Binghe alone in their shared space. The latter sits down in front of the map, letting out the nervous breath he had kept in since his shixiong had woken up. His eyes travel along the many black lines they had drawn lazily on the thin piece of rice paper. He could still hear his shixiong excited voice when he had circled areas he wanted to visit. Places where spiritual plants grew in abundance and rare creatures lived.

Soon, Luo Binghe would travel out of the sect, bringing his shixiong with him.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 8.5 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 -Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #shen yuan #luo binghe #sy shixiong au #phansdraws #so much food #i know #you guys let me know what you think!!!!

342 notes · View notes

jomiddlemarch · 3 months

Text

While You Were Sleeping

Chapter 3

It had been an unseasonably chilly day according to their hosts, so the windows of the suite were closed tight, curtains drawn, all outside noise muffled. It was late, the staff all gone to their rooms, and they’d both finished their evening ablutions, the tap shut off. They lay next to each other in the bed, having mutually agreed to go to sleep. There was nothing but the darkness leavened with silvery blue moonlight and a soft, all-encompassing quiet.

And then an unmistakable growl.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. But it was clearly a moment where they were both working out what to say, how to react, and in Hermione’s case, choking back a squawk of laughter which Draco would be sure to see as rudely mocking. Likely to, anyway.

“I beg—”

“You never beg,” Hermione interrupted, turning on her side so she could see him better. “You were going to ask for my pardon and you needn’t.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said. He sounded embarrassed. To be fair, if such a sound had come from her body, she would have wanted to spontaneously combust or Apparate to the moon, preferably a one-way trip for the first intergalactic Apparition that was reliably documented (she didn’t count that report from Durmstrang—if anyone got there first, it would be one of the up-and-comers from Uagadou, probably that tall witch from Lagos who sang all her incantations like Maria Callas.)

“You didn’t. I was a little startled, but not especially surprised,” she said. It was easy to be more open in the shared bed, the quilted counterpane rendered silken with the moonlight, everything around them soft, intimate. Draco seemed like another person, a man she’d never met before, except that she recognized him better at night or at least she allowed herself to admit she liked what she discovered. Very much indeed.

“No?”

“I will say you’re quite a bit louder than Harry ever was,” Hermione said, a naughty part of her unable to resist teasing.

“My shame is complete. Depthless as the Lost Sea, countless as the stars,” Draco said wryly. He was regaining his equanimity, though an additional growl, possibly louder than the first one, made him pause and Hermione chuckle.

“Don’t feel bad about it,” she said. “You’re hungry, there’s no shame in it. No surprise, either. You missed lunch. And dinner.”

I missed you, she didn’t say but thought. Nothing tasted as good without you there, she didn’t add but heard her voice murmuring.

“I got caught up with some of the regulatory issues, their legal system is sometimes completely orthogonal to ours. It’s both fascinating and infuriating,” he said. “Lost track of time, I suppose.”

“I understand. It happens to me too, I get immersed in whatever I’m researching and then I come out of it, it’s like I’m surfacing from swimming underwater and it’s hours later, leagues away. The Ravenclaws call it perdu-trouvée, I guess Flamel was known for it too,” she said.

His stomach growled again, somehow with even more volume.

“I’ll go find something, there must be something in the kitchen,” he said.

“Don’t,” she said, reaching over to lay a hand on his shoulder. He grew very still. “I noticed you weren’t at lunch and dinner. I made…arrangements for us.”

“Arrangements?” he repeated.

“I knew you missed both those meals and that you wouldn’t ask anyone to get you something to eat—”

“It’s ill-mannered. Here and at home, unless there’s a House-elf available and I know how you feel about them,” he interjected.

“I know. I knew you’d say all that, do all that. Or not do, as the case may be. So I did,” she said, dropping her hand from his shoulder. She could feel the warmth of him, the restraint, as if it had been branded like a rune into her palm. “I suppose I’m living down to all your Pureblood supremacist inculcated expectations of me, but I knew we’d end up here, with your stomach growling louder than a dyspeptic dragon grumbling over its hoard.”

“The only expectation I’ve ever truly had of you is that you’ll exceed whatever measure or possibility I could ever conceive of,” he said. “I admit that as a child, I expressed this very poorly.”

“As a child? You were a child in seventh year?” Hermione said.

“I was slow to mature,” he shrugged. “Unlike some. And I didn’t have access to a Time-turner to help me along.”

“I got a hamper. For you,” Hermione said. Draco was starting to take the conversation into uncharted waters and if she was going to navigate them, she at least wanted to get some food into him first. “A basket from the kitchen, so you could have a midnight snack. A meal, actually. Like a picnic. I asked them to include a cloth, cutlery, proper stemware.”

“I know what a hamper is, Hermione,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure if the Wizarding aristocracy had picnics or only elegant teas held in plein air. Harry was raised with Muggles, the Weasleys just Levitated their kitchen table into the garden because of the gnomes, and Neville and his gran prefer walking tours with Thermoses filled with tea and a packet of cheese and pickle sandwiches. I was afraid to ask Luna,” Hermione said.

“They always say you’re the brightest witch of our age,” Draco replied, choosing not to comment on the Weasley gnomes, the Longbottom predilection for non-magical Thermoses and the questionable reality Luna Lovegood inhabited, in favor of praising her with nary a smirk to be seen.

“Of your age, her age, they say. Not our. Not like I’m the most brilliant witch of the current, post-Dumbledore era,” Hermione said, frowning. She’d had a plan for this midnight snack revelation, and he was derailing her and while her plan had some accommodations built in, they were all centered around the idea he’d reject picnics or eating late at night or find it all terribly plebian. Not that he’d offer compliments that she didn’t deserve with what sounded like utter sincerity.

“That’s why they’re wrong and you’re the brightest witch of our age,” Draco said. “Though I also prefer most brilliant. More gravitas to it. But I believe I’m upsetting your plans. There’s a midnight snack to be consumed, picnic-style, if we want to keep from waking the whole building with my obstreperous digestive system.”

“You’ve managed to be both incorrigible and correct, so I’m just going to get the hamper and you’ll eat,” she said.

“We’ll eat,” he said. “Surely you don’t think I’m going to gorge myself in front of you while you don’t take even one bite.”

“Fine,” she said, getting out of the bed and going over to the wardrobe that held her clothes and right now, an oversized but magically lightened hamper she would have struggled to lift without the enchantment. As it was, she made it only halfway back to the bed before Draco came and took the basket out of her arms and carried it the remaining distance, allowing her quite the delicious view of his delicious arse in his pinstriped pyjama bottoms, not a sight she would ordinarily have imagined could be erotic.

“Do you want to open it or shall I?” he said, kneeling on his side of the bed and his side of the hamper. Hermione hiked up the hem of her nightdress so she could sit cross-legged on her side and gestured for him to go ahead. He lifted the lid and took out the cloth first, spreading it out between them, then began to narrate as he took out one item after another.

“Orange pippins, grapes, Double Gloucester—you had them source Double Gloucester for me? Carr’s water biscuits, those little spanakopita-like things they had the first night and they’re still warm, a jar of olives, some sort of savory pie—”

“Pork, with sage and a little thyme,” Hermione put in.

“There’s a tureen—”

“Potage parmentier,” she said, before he opened the lid and spilled any. “The tureen is charmed to stay at the perfect temperature for serving.”

“Brandy snaps, jam roly-poly and macarons?”

“Those are pistachio. It’s not an allusion to you being Slytherin,” Hermione said. “There ought to be a Chenin Blanc and a flask of Earl Grey tea to go with the meal and dessert.”

“This isn’t a snack, it’s a feast,” Draco said, settling back on his heels. Even in the moonlight, which etched everything in silverpoint, she could make out the flush in his cheeks. “And it’s all my favorites. Every single one."

“Yes. As I said, I thought you’d be hungry,” she replied.

“A sandwich would have been fine. Some bread and butter,” he said. “How did you know—"

“Brightest witch, as you said. I pay attention to details, they’re important,” she said, smiling, but meaning it. Harry and Ron would be taken in by just the smile. Draco wouldn’t. “I know you strive to require nothing from people now, but that’s not how I operate. And I’ve been hungry before, it’s not something I take lightly.”

I want to see you satisfied, she didn’t add. It was enough to think it. This time…

“We didn’t eat all these things here,” Draco said.

“No, I did some research. Reached out to access primary sources,” she said.

“You contacted Narcissa?” he asked. Could a person be aghast and impressed in only three words? It seemed he was. It also seemed he called his mother by her first name, a fact she filed away for later consideration.

“Andromeda. We belong to the same book club. It wasn’t a message out of the blue,” Hermione said. “I remembered you ate all the brandy snaps when we were at Hogwarts, you glutton. It’s a wonder you had any teeth left in your head.”

“You must like brandy snaps too,” he said. “I assume that’s why you noticed me eating more than my fair share.”

“It was at first,” she said. When they were hunting Horcruxes, she’d thought about him, how he’d looked so eager taking some from the platter, how he’d closed his eyes with the first bite. How ordinary his delight was and how it changed his face to have a moment of simple happiness. There was less darkness around him now, which she attributed to being fifteen years out from being under the thumb of a megalomaniacal chimerical soul-shredded monster who was quite frankly rather boring when he wasn’t being utterly annihilating and then, of course, his pompous father had been relegated to the Endless level of Azkaban. She wanted to see Draco’s face when he ate a sweet now, what expression there would be in his grey eyes when he opened them and looked at her.

“Let’s start with them, then,” he said. He offered her a brandy snap, waiting for her to take it out of his hand. “You did agree I wouldn’t eat alone.”

“Do you often eat dessert first?” she said.

“May I make a confession?” he asked. She nodded, dimly aware she held a brandy snap in her wand hand and that Draco had glanced down at her mouth after he spoke. “Sometimes, it’s all I eat. Sometimes, all I want is to taste something sweet, Hermione.”