#the only places they know how to navigate are their houses and hogwarts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xreaderbooks · 6 months

Text

Angelic

Pair: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius doesn't feel himself after his time in Azkaban and you reassure him.

Based off of this request

Warnings: post-azkaban, insecurity, low self-esteem, fluff, comfort

Word Count: 1.6k

Wattpad | AO3

Sirius Black Masterlist | Navigation | HP\Wizarding World Masterlist

Looking at him and the way he transformed back from his animagus form, he looked like a shell of his old self, as if someone had stolen something from him and he didn't know how to ask for it back.

You stood frozen, not sure whether to strangle him into a hug until he was suffocated from your love or wait and see if he would even want you to touch him.

There he was, Sirius Black, on the front steps of the home you had both picked out after graduating from Hogwarts.

"Y/n?" His voice croaked out. "Say something, please."

The only thing that escaped your lips was a sob as tears streamed down, you gave into your inhibitions and ran to him, throwing your arms around his shoulders. He caught you the same way he always had with the same hug you always gave him when you were excited to see him after a whole summer apart, or whenever you passed a test and were overly anxious to tell him.

His arms circled your waist in the same familiar way you had almost forgotten.

"I love you, I believed you, I never stopped believing" You cried into the crook of his shoulder. You needed him to know that. You pushed back all the memories of the conversations and debates you had with Remus and other members of the Order who believed Sirius was guilty.

He gently pulled you away from him, taking you in from the last twelve years he saw you, murmuring as he stroked your tear-stained cheeks "I love you more, darling."

"Come in," You entwined your hands to guide him into your once-shared home, a home he barely had time in. "The place is pretty much the same."

"Your taste hasn't changed," He took in the decorations and furniture of the house.

You let your hand fall from his and nervously fiddled with your fingers as he looked around, "Hope you don't mind."

A half chuckle- half sob escaped from Sirius, "Of course not, love." He swiped his nose with the sleeve of the black and white striped prison robes. "What I do mind is you seeing me in this wretched state, I assume the bath hasn't changed?"

"Same as it's always been, let me grab you a towel and some fresh clothes." You rush off to the bedroom where you had kept Sirius's old clothes in a box and a closet where you store all the extra household items.

You heard the shower running from the thin walls and took a moment to gather your thoughts. He was back, he was not a murderer. He was back and he still loved you. You took a few deep breaths despite your heart still racing at the sight of him.

~~~

Weeks had gone by since he had escaped from Azkaban and waking up next to him in the same bed had not felt real.

Weeks turned to months and life had taken a turn for, what could be considered the best.

What brought you to reality was the nightmares you would coax Sirius out of, something you were used to doing even before Azkaban unfortunately. The only difference was there was nothing you could tell him now that could comfort him.

What did help was the fact that Harry knew the truth now and the reunion between Remus and Sirius had gone well. As amazing as that was, Sirius wasn't himself.

He lacks the flair he used to have; not that you minded, whatever made Sirius happy- made you happy. Whatever made him upset, equally affected you as much. You noticed Sirius has been trying to follow a routine in the same way he used to.

Tried the same hair products he used to use, it ended up with his hair sticking out in odd ways that frustrated him to no end, if he didn't love his long hair so much he would've shaved it all off.

Sirius attempted to style himself the way he once did and your shared room was littered with mountains of his clothes.

The results would put him in a foul mood.

"What's wrong, love?" It was one of Sirius' more difficult days. He didn't communicate his thoughts, he kept it all to himself and stayed moody for the rest of the day until he returned to his normal state of being.

He appeared to be zoned out, lost in thought, leaning on the counter in the kitchen with his arms crossed. He shook his head, "Nothing. Just thinking."

You broke through his arms, your fingers threaded through his hair, and he relinquished his hold to settle his hands on your hips. "Mind if I ask you what you were thinking of?"

He stayed silent for a moment, then two, inhaling a shaky breath.

"Am I as handsome as I once was?"

The question would have made you laugh if it wasn't for the poor-kicked puppy look he had. Sirius was rarely one to be insecure, it had you at a loss for words.

Your eyes scanned his, then the rest of his features. The curve of his naturally dark eyebrows, that matched his raven black hair. The perfectly shaped nose, and lips that you never got tired of tasting. His skin, smooth and the light freckles scattered on his face looked like a constellation.

It was true that he had aged, but as you had always expected, his age didn't take away from his beauty. A decade and a couple of years weren't going to take that from him like he was blessed by a god.

"Sirius, you have been and always will be beautiful to me," You confessed. You kissed both his cheeks, "You're more than beautiful, you're angelic."

You catch his eyes as he ducks his head shyly with a smile creeping onto his lips and give him a small peck.

He runs his hand through his hair and releases a breath while looking at the ceiling to keep the tears from running, "Thank you, love. I just haven't felt like myself since, well, you know. Nothing has felt the same, except for you." He squeezes your hips and brings you in for a tight hug.

"No need to thank me, Siri, I'm just happy you finally told me what was wrong." You kissed the side of his head and enjoyed the warmth of his neck before pulling back. "I'm sorry I don't tell you enough, should've known what was wrong by the constant outfit changes."

He chuckled, and you echoed his laughter. His smile dies slowly and he admires you in a way that has always intimidated you, the weight of his stare is heavy, "I suppose insecurity is the cost of having a goddess as a girlfriend."

His lips crashed onto yours and moved with such a consuming want and need for you. All of his kisses were loving and filled with a combination of emotions but this one took you back.

A nervous giggle escapes you, "Sirius-" You mumble his name against his mouth that continues to pursue yours.

"Yes?" He answered after you were unresponsive. He opened his eyes and stared at you, "I'm being perfectly serious."

"No, I am," You insist placing your hands on his shoulders.

He moved into your neck and trailed kisses down to the crook between your shoulder and neck, "I wouldn't be too sure of that."

You tried your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach that was traveling lower with each suck and bite he gave you. "How about we do something haven't done in a while?"

"A while? Just the other day we-" He appeared puzzled when he pulled his head back.

"Not that!" You shook your head. "Come."

You lead him to the couch and gently push him down to sit, you then go into your bathroom and search through the drawers until you find what you were looking for. Back in the living room, you set down the materials you gathered and turned on the muggle television to whatever was on.

"What are you up to?" Sirius asked.

You pulled out the black nail polish from the pouch you held the paint bottles in and tossed his way with a last-minute 'Catch'.

"We're starting with this."

He lifts a brow, "Starting?"

"I'm helping you get back to feeling more like yourself," You sit on the couch, laying your legs across his lap, and bring his hands to settle atop your knees. "That's only if you want to, I just want to help and if you don't want to then we can find another way, nail polish was just a go-to back then."

You would've continued to ramble if not for him kissing you, being back with Sirius had brought back the little school girl in you that you had lost throughout the war, then again- he's always been able to bring out a different side of you.

"I want to," His voice was quick and encouraging.

"Good," You tapped his nose which made him scrunch it up. As you began coating his nails with a base, you felt a bit of courage to confess something you'd held in during the early years of your relationship. "You know at Hogwarts when we got together, some girls Marlene hung out with told me I wasn't good enough to be with someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

You hummed, brushing on the first coat of the black polish to the first dried base-coated finger. "Handsome, gorgeous, god-like."

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed, "God-like."

"Their words, not mine but looking at you now after all those years, they weren't wrong."

"They were wrong about you," He mumbled, laying his forehead against the side of your head and into your hair. "My perfect, pretty girl."

"And you're wrong about yourself," You took a pause on the painting and stroked his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you."

~~~

a/n: I actually really don't like this, i had a good idea in my head of what i wanted this to look like and over time i guess i losit it? i feel like i could have done a better job if writers block wasn't in the way but i didn't wanna take longer than i already have writing this request. lemme know what you think :)

428 notes · View notes

emeritusemeritus · 6 months

Text

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

The return to Hogwarts.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out to be added to the Taglist, I have tried adding everyone but some blogs cannot be added? I will keep trying for you all 🖤

Apparating into Hogsmeade just outside the anti-apparition jinx perimeter was the only feasible way you could get close to the castle, but it was extremely dangerous, to say the least. There was a bounty upon all of your heads, none more than Harry who had been marked as undesirable number 1. Your plan was to sneak in through the Honeydukes cellar passageway, navigating Hogmeade in the dark just as you had the night George lost his ear to confront Snape. You wished you had the marauders map on your possession and had cursed yourself multiple times for not keeping it to hand, knowing that Grimmauld place was much too risky to return to now that Yaxley had discovered the location of the safe house after fleeing the ministry.

You had not anticipated the alarm that sounded out the second you all apparated into Hogmeade, the Caterwauling charm forcing you to run for cover the second your feet landed on the ground. Snatchers and death eaters were hot on your tails as you hid behind folded tables in the market, holding your breath and trying to control your shaking limbs. Snow covered the ground and you tried your hardest to hide your tracks but it was too late, all of you huddled together beneath a table as footsteps approached. Only when another alarm sounded off in the distance did the men relent and began running to investigate, assuming it to be Harry.

You stood quickly and beckoned the rest of your group to follow you, trying to slip through the jitty that ran between the Hog's Head and the side entrance to Honeydukes. Your heart sunk as you spotted a newly installed railing too late, cornering you and preventing you from escaping. You turned to Ron with a look of fear in your eyes, desperately trying to think up a backup plan as you tried to pull the secret passageways from your memory.

"Potter, in here!" A voice whispered from the side, urging you to run forward for cover.

A large portrait on the wall grabbed your attention immediately, a young girl with a clipped smile and distant eyes.

"You bloody fools, what were you thinking coming here?" The deep voice said, walking into the room. His likeness to your ex-headmaster was striking though not in the way that they were identical but almost as if they had the same kind eyes and long white hair and beards. "Have you any idea how dangerous it is?"

"You're Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother," Harry says, watching as the man briefly pauses mid-step before continuing on to peak out the shuttered windows, looking for any sign of suspicion with a vague noise of confirmation.

Aberforth kindly fetched some food and drink for you all though you don't launch for it as Ron and Hermione do, your stomach in knots about the next task.

"We need to get into the castle, tonight," Harry says with urgency, also not moving to reach for the food.

When Aberforth turns to him with a look of confusion and disgust, Harry presses, "Dumbledore gave us a job to do."

"Did he now?" Aberforth replies sneakily, pouring himself a drink. "Nice job? Easy?" He asks sarcastically, implying a conflict between them and previous knowledge of Albus' riddle like tasks. His face beamed with a sardonic smile that didn't reach his eyes, though he clearly found it an amusing situation.

"We've been hunting Horcruxes," Harry admits. Your gaze shoots your to him in surprise and alarm that he'd admitted it out loud to a man you barely knew. In truth, you had been more than hesitant about things since the incident with Bathilda, not to mention your multiple uses of Polyjuice Potion in the last few months alone. Quite frankly, you didn't trust anyone to be who they claimed to be.

"We think the last one's inside the castle, but we'll need your help getting in," Harry says. The tension on the room lingers as Aberforth places down his drink, eyeing Harry with suspicion, not astounded at the claim as you had anticipated him to act.

"That's not a job my brother's given you, it's a suicide mission. Do yourself a favor boy. Go home. Live a little longer."

"Dumbledore trusted me, to see this through," Harry counters, unfazed by Aberforth's harsh tone.

"What makes you think you can trust

him! What makes you think you can believe anything my brother told you! In all the time you knew him, did he ever mention my name? Did he ever mention hers?" Aberforth gestures to the painting of the young girl you'd spotted upon entering, her vacant expression never changing even as she's addressed.

"Why should he?" Harry begins to say, before Aberforth interjects.

"Keep secrets? You tell me." He goads.

"I trusted him."

"That's a boys answer," Aberforth dismisses. You cast a glance at Hermione as the two argue back and forth, keeping surprisingly cool under the tension. Ron, standing beside Hermione, looks less concerned as he continues to eat, shoving his mouth full of food as he watches the confrontation before him. "A boy who goes chasing Horcruxes on the word of a man who wouldn't even tell him

where to start. You're lying. Not just to me, which doesn't matter, but to yourself as well. That's what a fool does." Aberforth has taken a few steps towards Harry but he stands resolute. "You don't strike me as a fool, Harry Potter. So I'll ask you again. There must be a reason."

Harry remains resolute even as Aberforth moves ever closer to him, the tension lingeries thickly in the air as you await Harry's answer.

"I'm not interested in what happened between you and your brother, I don't care that you've given up. I trust the man I knew. We need to get into the castle tonight."

Ron's gaze flickers to you and you look upon eachother with an unreadable expression, both relating caution as you anticipate Aberforth's next move. Harry stands strong, not cowering under the dark gaze of your helper. After several seconds of intense, silent exchange, Aberforth shifts his gaze to the painting of the girl, his eyes softening as he glances at her, relenting.

The girl gives a nod, still holding her wistful smile and turns, waking off into the distance of the oil painting, her form getting increasingly smaller the further she walks.

"Where've you sent her?" Asks Harry, curiously watching the girl disappear from the frame.

"You'll see soon enough," Aberforth replies, a little cagey.

"That's Ariana, isn't it? Your sister. She's beautiful," you say, trying to pull Aberforth back on to your side, feeling like a disquiet was pulling at him and Harry that you didn't want to linger.

"She'll always be beautiful," Aberforth says, glancing at you briefly. You nod with a small smile, understanding his wistful tone.

"She died very young, didn't she," Hermione adds delicately, though Aberforth doesn't glance at her, nor reply for a few moments as Hermione's statement hangs in the air.

"My brother sacrificed many things, in his journey to find power, including Ariana. She was devoted to him -- he gave her everything, but time."

"Thank you Mr Dumbledore," you say quietly. He stares at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before nodding curtly and walking into the other room up the stone steps. You catch Ron's eyes who looks at you in question but you shoot him a harsh glare, telling him to back off. The four of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, looking around the sparse room and waiting for your next instruction or sign.

"She's coming back! And she's got someone with her!" Hermione calls, scrutinising the painting as a very small figure emerges from the back of the canvas. The whole scene is slightly ominous as you wait for the image to become clear, a sense of dread filling you as you consider who would be with her. Had you been set up?

"Who's that with her?" Ron asks, moving to stand closer as you all fixate on the second figure, increasing in size as they move closer, seeing that the second person was limping. The second person moves behind the girl, concealed completely as the frame around the painting creaks open from the right side. You draw your wand, ready for whatever might be unleashed but frown as you see the opening to a dark and long tunnel, revealing exactly who was stepping closer. "Bloody hell!"

"Neville!" Harry says with a smile, thankful to see an old friend. "You look

"Like hell I reckon," Neville says, crouching down with his wand in his hand. His cardigan is marked and dirty, much like his face that holds scars and fresh cuts. "This is nothing. Seamus is worse. You'll see." He looks at you, then Hermione and then Ron, all with a smile as you greet eachother.

"Hey, Ab. We've got a couple more coming through," he says, turning to Aberforth and addressing him with a familiarity which tells you everything you need to know about the kind bar owner who had been exactly who he stated to be.

"I don't remember this being on the Marauder's Map," you say quietly with a tone of suspicion, looking at the walls of the damp and dark tunnel that surrounds you, completely unfamiliar to even you. Having George and Fred as best friends turned lovers ensured that you knew every secret passageway and hiding place in the castle, and this was one you had never found before.

"That's because it never existed till now. The seven secret passages were sealed off before the start of the year. This is the only way in or out now. The grounds are crawling with Death Eaters and Dementors," Neville explains, leading the way with his wand extended, exuding light to guide your path.

"How bad is it with Snape as Headmaster?" Hermione asks. Even in the semi-darkness you notice her gaze flicking to you at the mention of your old potion master and mentor.

"Hardly ever see him. It's the Carrows you have to watch out for."

"The Carrows?"

"Brother and sister. They're in charge of discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows," he says, pointing to the newest gash on his face.

"They did that to you? But why?" Hermione asks.

"Today's Dark Arts lesson had us practicing the Cruciatus Curse, on First Years. I refused. Hogwarts has changed."

You're amazed by the change in Neville, no longer seeing a scared boy but rather a confident man, no longer afraid to stand up for himself or the people around him. It's a bittersweet reverence you feel, conflicted by his words, knowing that this new regime must have forced him to change. You wondered about everyone else, how had they fared?

Just as you approach the end of the tunnel, a large door appears, blocking any further light. Neville turns to you all with a grin on his face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's have a bit of fun, shall we?" He turns back to reach for the door and slowly begins pushing it open, moving forward to block you all with his body.

"Hey! Listen up, you lot! Brought you a surprise," he calls out, addressing what you assume to be other students.

"Not more of Aberforth's cooking, I hope. Be a surprise if we could digest it," you hear a voice call back, a voice you instantly recognise as Seamus.

Without replying, Neville steps to one side and reveals you all stood behind him, Harry first with Ron, then you and then Hermione in near single file within the small entrance to the tunnel.

"Blimey!" Seamus calls out, his face amongst a sea of others who all turn to the opening at Seamus' exclamation. The crowd erupts with cheers and hollars, your names called out as people begin to stand, clapping and smiling up at you all. You recognise many of the faces there, Luna, Cho, Dean, Lavender, Cormac, Padma and Parvati, Nigel and more. You look around hopefully to try and spot Ginny but you can't see her familiar face nor the familiar red hair you're so hopeful to see.

You descend down the ladder and are immediately met with a surge of hugs, backslaps and handshakes as the group of your fellow students embrace you, greeting each of you with an excitement you'd not anticipated.

"Get the word out to Remus and the others that Harry and the gang are back," Neville says quietly to Nigel, making you freeze in Padma's arms. You naturally assumed 'the others' meant Order members, would they all be joining you? Would you finally get to see Fred and George again? And if you did, would they even want to see you?

You faked a smile as more people greeted you but you felt as if you were on autopilot, your mind spiralling at the idea of seeing your loved one's again and their reaction. You tried to focus of Bill's words from before, his tone was positive and present tense, hopefully they did still want you. You watched from over the shoulder of a student you didn't recognise to see Nigel scrambling to work an old battered wizard wireless, navigating through the crackles of it warming up, speaking quickly and fighting to keep the large headphones on.

"River, DA calling. Do you read? We have a new weather report: Lightning has struck. I repeat, lightning has struck."

"Okay, okay! Stand down! Let's not kill them before You-Know-Who gets the chance!" Neville says, trying to calm the group who have taken to mainly swarming Harry. The sea of people parts and Ron, stood beside Harry, takes your hand, pulling you in towards him as he does the same to Hermione, keeping you all close together.

"Right then. What's the plan, Harry?" Neville says, crossing his arms as he looks expectantly at Harry.

Harry gazes out over the expectant faces in the room, noting the hollow eyes and broken bodies and the desperate, almost palpable desire for hope amongst the crowd. For a moment he seems lost, remaining mute as he is awed by the sacrifice his friends have made.

"Okay. There's something we need to find, something hidden here in the castle. It could help us defeat You-Know-Who," he says determinedly, though if not a little lost. You share a look with Hermione that looks hesitant and concerned, both of you worried to give the game away.

"What is it?" Neville asks.

"We don't know," Harry replies.

"Where is it?" Dean asks, still looking hopeful.

"Don't know that either."

There's a brief pause that lingers with awkwardness, the sea of hopeful faces falling a little as the anticlimactic information is relayed.

"I realize it's not much to go on," Harry says.

"That's nothing to go on," Seamus says a little defensively, rendering Harry speechless for the moment, faltering under the unexpected backlash.

You spot the Ravenclaw banner in the distance and place your hand on Harry's shoulder, stepping in for him as it seems that he's a little lost for words, trying to navigate what exactly he could and should tell them.

"We think it's something to do with Ravenclaw," you say, side stepping to move in line with Harry at the front. "The thing we're looking for, it would be small, easy to conceal. It'd most likely be valuable and sentimental to Ravenclaw herself," you say, looking around at the sea of people who have turned their attention to you. You fixate on the eagle symbol on the banner, trying to look at the Ravenclaw students in the room, knowing they would be the most likely to have some information.

Your words are met with near silence and lost faces, confusion upon some as they look around at each other clueless.

"Well, there's Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem," Luna says from near the back.

"Oh, bloody hell. Here we go," Ron mutters under his breath behind you and you deliver a swift concealed kick to his shin to shut him up.

"The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Hasn't anyone ever heard of it? It's quite famous," Luna says looking around as people turn in her direction, not taking her seriously.

"Yes, but Luna, it's lost. For centuries now. There's not a person alive today who's seen it," Cho says delicately, not wanting to humiliate Luna in front of the crowd. The other Ravenclaw's nod in agreement.

"Excuse me. But would someone tell me what a bloody diadem is?" Ron says, stepping to the other side of you so he doesn't get kicked again.

"It's a kind of crown. You know, like a tiara," Cho says.

You look towards Hermione and raise your eyebrows, seeing the same understanding in her eyes. It was possible, more than possible.

Just then, there's a distinctive rumble of the door opening and you freeze for a moment before you spot Ginny walking quickly over to the assembled group. She freezes for a moment, staring at Harry before mumbling his name with a smile. Ron gives a wave and says hi, though she pays no notice, still intensely staring at Harry who is staring back just the same.

"Six months she hasn't seen me and it's like I'm Frankie First Year. I mean, I'm only her brother," Ron mumbles between you and Hermione and you can't help but smile at his childish grumbling.

"Got loads of those, though, doesn't she? There's only one Harry," Seamus says, turning to you with a smile and a little wiggle of his eyebrows, making your heart flutter and your stomach tie into knots, having momentarily forgotten about the impending reunion with your boyfriends.

"Shut up, Seamus," Ron says without any real conviction, only to be interrupted by Neville who turns to Ginny with a frown.

"What is it, Ginny?"

"Snape knows. He knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade," she says, still frozen to the spot, looking alarmed. Her gaze breaks away only briefly as she looks to you, then Ron, then Hermione. She eventually runs forward and embraces Harry, then pulls you in, then Ron and then Hermione.

"We need to do something," Harry says, turning to your group.

"How long until the order gets here?" You hear Ron ask Neville, trying to make a plan, knowing it would be foolish to act before the order had assembled.

"Anytime now, they've all been called to arms," he replies, looking back towards you as you nod. Trying to ignore the knot in your stomach and the lump in your throat, you turn to Harry, his gazed fixed to the floor, seemingly trying to think of options.

"Harry we need to overthrow Snape," Hermione says, a dangerous look in her eye.

"But we have to catch him off guard," you say, agreeing with Hermione. "We have to wait for the Order to arrive, if it turns into a fight we need backup. Neville how many of the teachers are on his side?"

"Just the Carrow's I'd say, most others have either been threatened, left or stayed to protect the students," Neville says, moving to stand closer to you all, the intel for the plan.

"We surprise Snape, overthrow and outnumber them, then we search the castle whilst the Order sets up defences," you say, looking directly at Harry so that he'd listen to your reasoning, "once we start this, there's no turning back."

He nods almost immediately, his gaze turning to you as he works through the plan in his head.

"That could work," Ron says encouragingly, moving closer to place a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Suddenly a loud alarm rings out, a whirring sound reminiscent of an old war time air raid alarm. You flinch, as does your little group though the other students seem completely unfazed, each of them dispersing to grab their discarded school robes.

"What's happening?" Harry asks, looking around frantically.

"Snape's called an assembly," Ginny explains, quickly placing her outer robes around her. "We have 10 minutes to get to the Great Hall."

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione exclaims as Harry reaches for a robe, quickly placing the cloak around him. So much for your plan.

"You wait here for the Order, I'll sneak in with the crowd, he won't be expecting that," he says, fingers struggling with the ties of the cloak in his haste.

"Hermione it might be the best way," you say carefully, expecting the disbelieving look she gives you. "Snape doesn't know Harry's already in the castle, right Gin?" You ask, turning to Ginny.

"No, the castle would be locked down if he did," Ginny says, agreeing with you.

"I have some Polyjuice potion," you begin to say but Harry stops you.

"No, it has to be me," Harry says, and you nod in understanding, letting him go.

The students pour out, including Harry who is concealed between Ginny and another Gryffindor student you don't recognise, leaving you, Ron and Hermione alone to await the Order's arrival.

The sound of the students marching in formation is an ominous noise, the steady beat of the synchronised footsteps only illuminating the quickened pace of your pounding heart. You took a seat on one of the crates in the back corner of the room, your back to both walls, staring into your lap and wringing your hands as nerves overtake you. The Order, most importantly Fred and George, would be here any minute and you didn't even know where to begin with greeting them.

Would they still want you?

Would they be harsh and dismissive?

Were they mad at you for leaving?

Your stomach flipped with nerves and you tried to hold back the nauseous feeling that kept rising up, your entire being riddled with anxiety. The others seemed to sense your internal distress and left you alone, standing together and talking quietly in the other corner. You pulled out the lebetum from your pocket to keep you occupied and distracted, looking into the frosted glass as you tried thinking of happy memories to see the words form but you were too anxious and conflicted to get a clear thought in your mind, the words remaining hidden. You still weren't certain what the exact use for it was, though it had helped you to retrieve the sword of Gryffindor. Why was the doe significant? You were pretty sure that Dumbledore's patronus was a Phoenix, so surely it couldn't be Albus helping you beyond the grave. The only clue you had was Dobby's cryptic message delivered just before he died, 'my boss was right'. But Dobby was a free elf, Harry had ensured that after the chamber of secrets, planting the sock which freed him from the Malfoys.

Just as you huffed out a breath of disappointment and placed the lebetum back deep into your pocket, a deep rumbling noise broke through the quiet room, alerting you to an intruder. Holding out your wand you waited a few seconds for the figure to appear, visibly shrinking in relief when you noticed Kingsley's signature blue robes coming into view. He was followed close behind by Remus and then Neville. Arthur and Molly stepped in and then Bill and Fleur. It was like you were being tortured on purpose, having to wait and sift through the familiar members until you finally saw the two near identical beings you'd longer for all this time.

They all naturally congregated around Hermione and Ron, greeting them with warmth having seen them first as they entered, your position partially hidden in the back corner. Almost immediately, you see George and Fred looking around worriedly as you aren't with Ron and Hermione. George catches your eye line first and you immediately stood up on shaking legs, feeling breathless and frozen in place, unable to take even a single step out of overwhelming fear that you'd be rejected after all this time.

His face erupts with sheer relief as he nudges Fred hard with his elbow, alerting his twin to your presence. Both twins turned to face you and within one second of turning, they run off from the group and bolt over to you, each pulling at your frozen form as tears erupt, free flowing down your face. George takes hold of you first, muttering unintelligible words as he cradles you tightly. The movement hurts your tender shoulder but you couldn't care less whilst you sob into his chest in relief. Fred speaks too but you can't make it out, both of their voices mixing to form a symphony of background noise. Fred then pulls you into his arms and spins you around, holding all of your weight as you sob and laugh at the same time. He puts you down on the floor and kisses you hard, hands tangling in your hair, no part of you left untouched as George grabs hold of your spare hand, feeling you firmly between them.

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm so sorry baby, I never meant-."

"You're really here."

"I love you."

"Missed you so bloody much."

You all speak at the same time, still clutching onto each other desperately as if one of you would disappear at any moment. George stops speaking and pulls you into a kiss, all his emotions pouring into the kiss, his remorse and regret, longing and desperation from the last months all culminating within him.

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to push you away, I took it out on you and I will never forgive myself," George says with a hiccup, still holding you as he pulls away from the kiss, speaking quickly so that he can be the first one to talk. Your tears have slowed now and from what you can see, both of the twins have their own tear lines too.

"No I'm sorry, I never wanted to leave you, especially not after everything that happened."

"We understand sweetheart," Fred says, stepping back in after giving you and George a moment. He places his hands onto your waist and you stand between both men, exactly where you should always be.

You hear a cough from the corner of the room and turn to see Remus with his hand in front of his mouth, looking sheepish and a little embarrassed having to break up your reunion. You understand, knowing that business needed taking care of first. You walk back to the group and are greeted warmly by Molly who pulls you into a bone crushing hug, followed by Arthur. Fleur then pulls you in and Bill strides over to you, placing his arm much more gently around you, knowing the problem with your shoulder.

"Told you," he whispers in your ear and you smile, gently elbowing him playfully which makes him laugh, your boyfriends paying close attention to your interaction.

"So where do we begin?" Hermione asks, looking towards Kingsley for leadership. He explains his plan but stops when he realises he doesn't quite know why you've returned.

"We need time," you say, standing straight. "We have to search the castle for something and destroy it."

"Then time you'll have," Kingsley says with a nod, ushering you all forward as you walk in formation towards the great hall where Harry would be revealing himself. You're flanked by your boyfriends, neither of them letting you out of their sight nor more than an arms length away as you walk between them.

Kingsley and Remus cast matching stunning spells as soon as you all round the corner to the hall, taking out the two deatheaters who were guarding the entrance to the hall.

You wait in tense silence, trying to listen in to what you believe to be Snape's threatening monologue until you hear a chorus of gasps, alerting you that Harry had made his move. It was time to act.

Taglist:

@missryerye @football1921 @rk-ceres @weasleywheezer @lotusloisstuff @c0comichi @xthatpottahfanx @aigowen @fandom-taylor @weasleyluver85 @mariamkhaled87 @jewelsrules @ledger-kaos @bucksdonkey @clara-carpenter-morgan @jinxxangel13 @darkrozesblog

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #george weasley #george weasley x you #weasley twins smut #weasley twins x you #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley x reader x george weasley

158 notes · View notes

mxlfoydraco · 1 year

Note

What are the sweetest, most fluffy, most tender fic recs you have? Hurt/comfort préférable but anything works

I'm a major angst reader so our definitions of fluff may vary! I'm adding on to these lists: Fluff & Hogwarts Era Fluff

Save My Wonders by @unmistakablyoatmeal(21k)

Immediately chocolate assaulted Draco’s senses. Warm melted chocolate mixed with his mother’s roses and… something else. Something new. Freshly scrubbed skin and maybe a faint sheen of sweat. It was so familiar… And it only intensified when Potter came up behind him.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

All Things Go by @sorrybutblog (32k)

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel (10k)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

the treehouse near primrose downs by @softlystarstruck (14k)

Draco and Harry have been roommates for years, so buying a magical house in the countryside shouldn’t be a big difference. But in between fresh loaves of bread and beds of wildflowers, things start to fall into place.

you bring me home by @softlystarstruck (35k)

Harry is happy. He has his cat cafe and his hobbies. He has his friends, and Dolly Parton, and a shirt with a cowboy frog on it. It’s all a man needs, really. He doesn’t need to obsess over a magic-less, anxious Draco Malfoy coming into his cafe after disappearing from the wizarding world years ago. He doesn’t. Not even if the cats like Malfoy. Not even if Malfoy is soft, and funny, and a little bit neurotic. No matter how much he wants to obsess.

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by @sugar-screw (22k)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

I Think I Want to Marry You by @phdmama (6k)

5 times Harry Potter asks Draco Malfoy to marry him and Draco doesn't answer. And then the one time he does.

Meddling, Menswear, and Magic by @writcraft (18k)

Draco Malfoy is working in a job he hates and avoiding the magical world entirely, but he really is fine. When a bequest from Severus Snape brings Draco back to a much-changed magical world, he must find his place within it and navigate his growing attraction to Harry Potter in the process.

Constellations on your skin by @orange-peony (56k)

“I’m going to get my scars removed,” Draco announces on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. “Who are you seeing?” Blaise asks. “The best Healer out there,” Draco replies with a little shrug. “Harry Potter.”

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo (51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care by @digthewriter (9k)

Harry Potter is the proud owner of The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care and his favourite student is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius’s dad might be okay, too.

Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken (19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved! So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship. (An unnamed ginger bastard can be heard yelling from afar: “This is actually a detailed guide on how not to court someone!”) But who cares about the opinions of redheads? Literally no one.

Nice Things by aideomai (22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by @dorthyanndrarry (5k)

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

Stay (With Me) by @dorthyanndrarry (6k)

Harry and Draco have been seeing each other casually, whenever they bumped into one another at Galas and Balls and other social events, always keeping one another at a careful distance. But one step forward seems to remove all space between them, sending them crashing together with an almost inevitable gravity.

If It Takes All Night by @tackytigerfic (10k)

It's not the first time Harry's been the victim of a botched curse (that's one of the reasons he doesn't like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too. So they're bonded. That's ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm. But this isn't going to be a problem for their friendship at all. Is it, Harry?

Espresso Patronum by @tasteofshapes (15k)

When Draco reappears five years after the war and opens a wildly popular coffee shop, Harry’s pretty sure that Draco’s Up to Something. He just has to prove it.

The Charm Conundrum by dysonrules (8k)

Harry misplaces an interesting "self-help" manual. Draco finds it and discovers some fascinating insights into Harry Potter.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by @greaseonmymouth (96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry. Features: Little League Quidditch, an abundance of bath bombs, happy endings, and gay robots in space.

Harry Potter’s biggest fan by @gnarf (9k)

Ever since Scorpius heard about Harry Potter for the first time from one of his friends, one could say that he was his biggest fan. So naturally, it would be the thing he needs to talk about while visiting his grandparents for Sunday dinner. Draco’s father could not hold back the comments on why he had to go through this again, and Scorpius understood just enough to know that his father actually knew Harry Potter in person. That’s when the pestering started. Not much later and Draco found himself face to face with Potter, all thanks to his son.

Sunseeker by @shiftylinguini (15k)

Harry is a struggling writer. Namely, he is struggling with: writing his next book, dealing with his agent, finding a decent tea strainer, fielding his friend's concern over the aforementioned book, and figuring out who the cat loitering in his garden belongs to. He also has a slight liking-Malfoy problem. Okay, he has a massive liking-Malfoy problem.

All Roads Lead Home by dracogotgame (14k)

Draco is strong-armed into spending the first Christmas after the War with the Weasleys. And Harry Potter.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18k)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

Nyctophilia by prolonged_autumn (107k)

Everyone's back for 8th year, and Harry and his friends seem determined to spend their last year in school running around at night, hyped up on coffee and alcohol and Honeydukes candy, doing all the childish things they didn't have the chance to do before. Draco watches as he's always watched: from afar, quiet and bitter and hopelessly in love. That is, until Pansy decides she's had quite enough of it.

#this list got eaten by tumblr halfway done and i re-did it that deserves a medal in my very unbiased opinion #drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #drarry reclist #draco malfoy #drarry fic recs #my recs #fic recs #hpdm #harry potter #fluff #drarry fluff

405 notes · View notes

redheadspark · 7 months

Text

Off You Go

Summary - You and Oliver send Poppy off to Hogwarts, ready to let her go on her own

A/N - This is part of my Oliver Wood x reader with their daughter Poppy Wood storyline that I might be starting up officially pretty soon!

Warnings - mostly fluff!

“Alright, darlin’. Here we are,”

“Woah….Is this it, Da?”

“You bet, Pops,”

You were watching with a grin as your husband and daughter, who was sporting her school robes, peered at the Hogwarts Express together whilst holding hands between them. This day was a day neither you nor Oliver were ready for, and yet it finally came at last. The weather was perfect, you left your home earlier than you thought you would in case you were going to hit traffic, and now you had mere minutes before sending off your child to Hogwarts.

This day was huge in the Wood household.

Ever since Poppy Angelina Wood got her Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts, she was over the moon excited. There was no slowing down her mind when it came to what she imagined it would be like at Hogwarts, who she was going to meet, and what she’d learn. The possibilities were endless with your daughter, and she asked you and Oliver plenty of questions about what it was like for you two when you were students.

“Was Gryffindor the best house?”

“When can I play quidditch like you did, da?”

“Was Herbology hard to learn, mum?”

Both yourself and Oliver indulged her and answered every question she brought you two, never holding back as she was letting her mind expand with imaginations and dreams. Her older cousins told her plenty of tips and tricks too, promising you that they’d look out for her as she navigated her first year. Although that made you both feel a bit better, you were still a bit nervous about sending your only child off to school.

This time it was different for Poppy, she had no real threats against her compared to how it was for you and Oliver. Ever since the end of the Second Wizarding War, new protections and protocols were placed on the newly renovated Hogwarts, and there hasn’t been any accident or occurrences since then.

Hogwarts was safe again, insanely safe thanks to the new Aurors at the Ministry of Magic which included both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Another old Schoolmate and fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, wrote to you and Oliver with reassurance and comfort in telling you both he’ll look out for Poppy while he wasn’t teaching Herbology.

Still, no matter how many people were telling you Poppy was going to be fine and in good hands, you and Oliver still had some fears and some worries. Worries that she would hate it, worry that she wouldn’t get the proper footing on her own.

In the end, she had to go out on her own.

“The Hogwarts Express!” Poppy said in glee as she tugged on her father’s hand, looking at the massive red train that was ready to take off in a few minute's time. You were remembering back when you were a first year, the same height and size as your daughter, and looking at the massive train in wonder and excitement. You grinned, shifting in front of the trolley you were pushing with her trunk and a few parcels that she was taking with her from home to make the homesickness more tolerable.

Lastly, there was a small cage on the top of the trunk with an orange tabby cat inside, sleeping away and not caring what was going on around her. The cat, affectionally named Clover, was the house cat that was going to be Poppy’s cat at school, which was perfect since Poppy and Clover had been attached at the hip since Poppy was a toddler.

Other students and parents were bustling around the three of you, loading their possessions and saying their last goodbyes as the Hogwarts Express workers were busy packing the train with ease.

“Now, remember, when you get to the Hogsmeade Station, you’re goin’ to meet—“ Oliver started with Poppy, but she looked at him and spoke.

“Hagrid, I know Da,” she replied, you eyeing her and then Oliver, seeing the nervousness in his eyes as he knelt down in front of her. You walked over too, listening in on the conversation with your husband and daughter.

“And then you’ll be Sorted,” Oliver reminded her, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder to give him some ease, “Do ya remember what me and your mum told ya about the Houses?”

“It doesn’t matter what house I’m in, as long as I do my best wherever I go,” Poppy recited clearly, the train then whistling as the first warning that it was time to hop on the train. She looked a bit nervous then, her confidence was still a bit evident but the small sense of fear was now on her freckled face and in her bright eyes, “Da….Mum…I’m scared,”

That made your heart tender for a moment as you knelt down to be next to Oliver, giving your daughter a warm smile as you spoke, “And remember what we talked about? Being scared is normal. Poppy, this is the first step of a big adventure you’re going on, and you’re not alone, right? There are others who are scared too, because you don’t know what will happen, right?”

She nodded rapidly, her fingers were fidgeting in front of the school robes she was wearing. You and Oliver spoke to her the night before, hearing her worries and fears as if she wasn’t going to make friends if she was going to be lonely. You had those fears too as a child, and now that you were the parent, it was your turn to be the comforter and the one bringing peace.

“But that’s the best part, my little Pops,” Oliver explained to her, Poppy watching him with the same eyes she inherited from you and the freckles she got from him dancing on her nose and cheeks, “All ya can do is take it day by day, moment by moment, and know that you’re going to have the best time, at the best school.”

“Really?” She asked with hope in her tone.

“Absolutely! Your mum and I had the time of our lives all those seven years, both in the good times and bad. You’re strong, Poppy. Strong and as tough as they come, You’re a Wood after all,” he explained, Poppy giggling as Oliver held out his arms to her. Poppy hopped into his embrace, Oliver holding her close and almost breathing her in one last time as you petted her brown braid with your fingers. As hard as it was for you to be parted from your daughter, it was going to be harder for Oliver.

Oliver and Poppy were a tag team from the moment Poppy was born. Oliver loved being a father, it was one of the best roles he ever had in his life and he would take being a father over being a quidditch player anytime in his life. You knew it was a sacrifice for him when you told him you were pregnant, not to mention being pregnant during one of the harshest and scariest times in Magical history with Voldemort taking over the Magical World.

Poppy was a gift, the purest gift that Oliver never took for granted. He called off practices and matches to tend to Poppy when she was sick or when you needed help with her. He took her to professional matches when she was a toddler, rode with her while she was a baby in a harness, and even showed her off to his teammates and old schoolmates. He treasured her more than anything, and now he was letting his own treasure go on her own for the first time.

“I love ya to the moon and back, Poppy,” he said into her hair, his hold on her tightened slightly, "I’ll miss ya terribly without my partner in crime,”

“I love you too, Da!” She mumbled into his shirt, then pulled away and grinned at him, “I’ll miss you a lot.”

Oliver grinned, you nothing some tears in his eyes as Poppy moved over to hug you tightly. You hummed in happiness, keeping your daughter close as workers on the Hogwarts Express took her trolley away with her possessions, another single that it was almost time to board.

“I’m so proud of you my little Pops,” You said to her as you peppered her face with kisses to make her laugh. She giggled, Oliver was then chuckling wetly as you pulled away and framed her face in your fingers and palms, “We’ll see you again when you come back for the Christmas Holidays, okay? Remember to study hard, and to play just as hard. Also, make sure you write home at least once a month and tell us everything you’re up to,”

“Twice a month!” Oliver interjected, both you and Poppy looked at him in shock as he grinned with some tears on his cheek and a shrug on his shoulders.

“Da!” Poppy whined as you rolled your eyes and had Poppy face you again.

“At least once a month…for your Da’s sake,” You joked with him as Poppy giggled, “But most of all, you stay true to yourself and not lose sight of who you are. You’re smart, kind, and brave, Poppy Angelina Wood, and I am already proud of you, okay?”

“Okay,” Poppy replied with a softer smile, hugging you one more time as you kissed her forehead,” I love you, Mum.”

“Love you too, my darling girl,” You replied. The Hogwarts Express’s whistle sounded off a second time, which was the last warning before the train was off. You immediately moved up, letting Poppy go as one of the Head Boys from Hufflepuff saw Poppy, gesturing her to hop on the train. With one final wave to you and Oliver, Poppy walked a bit faster now with her hesitance gone, going to one of the doors that was open and looking back at you both. Other parents were waving goodbye, some were already stepping back through the brick wall with ease, and the rest were saying their final farewells as students were waving from the window of the train.

Though you and Oliver were focusing on Poppy, seeing her wave one more time and then going in through the door. Oliver hummed, taking your hand in his own and watching with his wide eyes as Poppy’s head poked out from an open window.

“BYE MUM! BYE DA! LOVE YOU!” She bellowed, you laughing as you waved. With Oliver waving too, the Train was blowing steam and bellowed one last time, the last of the doors were closing and the rest of the students were already inside. With one long lurch, the train was moving, and the massive wheels turned with ease as the train was now on its way out of the station. Your eyes were still on Poppy, seeing her keep her head out for a longer moment before she reluctantly went back inside the train.

She was off, and the train soon departed the station and was out of sight within moments.

Poppy was gone.

As the rest of the parents and patrons started to shuffle away and back through the wall, you looked over at Oliver and sighed, seeing him wipe away his tears and take in a long breath of almost exhaustion and sadness.

“The Great Oliver Wood,” you teased, Oliver wetly chuckled as you cupped his jaw in your fingers,” Your daughter will be fine at Hogwarts, remember?”

“I know,” He hummed in a hiccup,” I didn’t think this day would come but….she’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course she will,” You reassured him, “She’s a Wood, she’ll know how to handle herself. She’s learned from her Da,”

Oliver grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two were almost the last two parents still on the platform. The small comfortable silence between the pair was calming, therapeutic in a way since you two were now alone again in your household, at least for a few months when she came back for the Christmas Holiday. Oliver then perked up a bit, a small smile on his face as he spoke.

“We can always owl McGonagall and—“ he stared, but you smacked his chest and gave him a scowling look.

“Oliver Wood, you will do no such thing! Poppy is going to be fine, and I highly doubt our old Head of House and Professor will give us kudos point for our daughter,” You scolded him as you both walked over to the Brick wall, Oliver huffing and rolling his eyes.

“But now she’s the new Headmistress!” Oliver tried to argue with you.

“And as such our child will get no special treatment from McGonagall! Neville’s already looking out for her, and if Poppy finds out about the Headmistress, she’ll never forgive you, are we clear?” You warned him, seeing him sigh in defeat as he gave you a soft smile, laving your fingers together.

“Fine.” He replied, you kissing his cheek as you both walked through the brick wall.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x reader #oliverwoodand poppywood #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #oliver wood #oliver wood fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #hp #hp fandom #harry potter #fanficiton #oliver wood imagine

67 notes · View notes

cranetreegang · 10 months

Text

Home at Last - Ominis x FemReader

Summary: Ominis finally returns to the Gaunt Estate. It's all that he remembers, except he's the one who's changed. He navigates his parents in search of any clues about Ancient Magic and his ancestors.

Word Count: ~7,200 words

Read my other Ominis Fics Here

Warnings: Child abuse, mentions of child abuse, manipulation

----------------------------------------

Standing in front of the iron gate, Ominis clenches his wand tightly in one hand and his suitcase in the other. Despite not having been back to the Estate in years, it all feels the exact same. The gate resonates with layers of protective charms and dark magic. He can barely make out the circular emblem locking the gate in place, which he’s sure has a gaudy ‘G’ etched at the center. The feelings he used to harbor for this place hasn’t changed either as his feet refuse to move to take the final steps forward.

He closes his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath, then finally approaches. The gate shutters open for the wayward heir and he walks towards the manor. Under his boots, he feels patches of grass growing between the once trimmed stone path - occasionally kicking some loose bricks as he passes. The steps leading up to the door aren’t fairing much better, deteriorating under his weight and he hears the sounds of pebbles and debris hitting the ground.

The massive double door is his last chance to turn around. With one last sharp inhale, Ominis flick his wand at the door. It groans and whines as it slowly opens. Ominis steps inside, the smells of old wood and marble greet him along with a scent of dust. The still silence sends a brief chill down his spine then the door slams shut, echoing throughout the manor in a deafening boom and rattling him. His back straightens and he knows there’s no turning back now.

He notes how there’s not as much furniture by the entryway. In fact, as he walks through the manor towards his old bedroom, the place is practically sparse. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought they had moved without telling him. But, he does know the harsh truth of the matter and he can’t stop a scornful smirk at how much his proud family has fallen. Oh, if Salazar Slytherin could see the deteriorating state of his esteemed bloodline now, Ominis laughs to himself. There hasn’t even been a single house elf scurrying through the halls, now that he thinks of it. Indeed, his family is truly in tough times for his Mother to forgo her house elves.

He rounds the corner and heads down the long hallway of the east wing towards the last door on the right. With another flick of his wand, his wards pacify then the bedroom door unlocks and shudders open. Waving his wand around, he’s surprised to find he still has a bed. It seems his room is wholly untouched - his four poster bed on the far right wall, his large oak desk in front of him against the window, then his wardrobe on the left wall.

Setting his suitcase on the bed, creating a cloud of dust in the air, his mind starts to drift back to his days here - his days before the Sallow twins and Hogwarts. A soft sigh escapes him as he heads towards his old desk.

Through the layer of grime, his fingertips find the familiar scratches and knicks exactly as they were. He sits down in the chair and recites a spell to unlock the drawers. Notes, books, amateur drawings, and other various knick knacks are tucked away inside - all as he left it. One journal in particular gets his attention. The leatherbound book is cool against his touch and he flips open to a random page to read.

Each day feels like a struggle, a battle. I don’t know what’s worse - Father when he ignores my existence entirely, or when he does acknowledge my presence.

I yearn for his approval. I try to be the son he wishes me to be. But everytime I try, I’m only met with his harsh, cruel words as he berates me - his words laced with obvious disdain and disapproval. It’s days like today that I’m thankful for my blindness, so as to not see the matching disgust which accompanies these words.

Cimsy was able to procure me the spellbook I requested, and I’ve managed to create charms to protect my room and desk. After the incident with Marvolo, I pray I’m able to find brief sanctuary in my room. It’s a shallow comfort - as these charms are rudimentary at best - but I take it all the same.

Next year, I’ll be at Hogwarts. Next year, I’ll be far, far away from here. Next year, I’ll become just as talented as all the wizards I’ve read about in my stories. I’ll be a hero - rising above adversity and slaying fearsome monsters.

Ominis skims his wand over the entry several times, recalling that day all too well. Many memories he hasn’t thought about start to surface. He gently places the journal on the desk then reaches back inside the drawer. Searching along the underside, he feels a shallow, circular indent - which he presses. A soft click reaches his ears and he smiles, tracing along the side until a protruding piece of wood meets his fingers. He opens it, his fingers just barely touching the hidden contents.

“Young Master.”

Shutting the drawer with a swift movement, Ominis whips his head around with a scowl, which quickly melts into a more gentle expression once he realizes who’s at the door.

“Cimsy,” Ominis grins as he stands. “It’s been too long. How are you?”

The old house elf limps into the room, her bare feet dragging on the marble floor.

“Cimsy is most pleased to see the young Master back,” Cimsy sounds more worn, aged, and tired than he recalls. He holds back his pitying frown as Cimsy continues.

“Cimsy has been quite busy since the others were sold. Cimsy tried to clean your room before you arrived, young Master, but Cimsy could not get in. Clever charms, young Master. Too clever for Cimsy.”

“I apologize. I forgot they were in place before I left,” Ominis smiles, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you, Cimsy. Truly. I've missed you, and our walks in the garden.”

Cimsy chuckles, airy and weak, “Cimsy has missed the young Master Gaunt as well. Cimsy has been sent to retrieve the young Master. Mistress Gaunt wishes to see you, young Master.”

Ominis’ smile fades into a tight grimace, and he nods, “Very well. I shouldn’t keep her waiting. Lead the way.”

Cimsy bows, then starts her slow shuffle towards the parlor room.

Along the way, Ominis is reminiscent of all the times he’s walked to the parlor - through all the winding, rug covered hallways and past all the portraits no doubt staring at him as he goes by. Cimsy opens the door to the parlor and a rush of warm air hits his face.

“Mistress Gaunt, the young Master is here, as requested.”

Ominis strides into the room, registering the presence of his mother by the window lounging on the chaise. By the way her arm is angled, she’s no doubt holding onto a wine glass.

“Have lunch prepared, Cimsy,” Mother’s voice is cold, detached, and without inflection. It sends a shiver down his spine despite the order not being towards him.

“Right away, Mistress,” Cimsy says, snapping her fingers to apparate to the kitchens.

Mother sets down her glass with a clink then rises from her perch. She slowly turns to face him and Ominis feels her sharp eyes upon him. She flows towards him with soft steps and the air chills once she’s in front of him. He notices that she’s not as tall as she once was as she’s no longer able to loom over him. Instead, it appears he’s at least above eye level with her.

“Oh, my little Ominis,” she coos in a far warmer tone than earlier. The change has always jarred him, but he maintains a neutral expression - even when her cold hands cup either side of his cheeks.

She turns his head, examining him, “My, my, how you’ve grown into such a handsome young man.”

Her long fingers stroke through his hair - landing on the back of his neck to bring him into her embrace. Ominis is stiff in her arms as she places a kiss on the top of his head.

“I have missed you, my darling boy,” she whispers. The stench of tart wine fans across his face. Her strong perfume consumes the rest of his senses.

“I’ve missed your letters, my sweetling. Do you know how much worry and anguish I’ve been in? Do you even care?”

Ominis winces at her sweetly sharp tone, her nails threatening to rip into him. He replies as evenly as he can.

“I apologize, Mother. I didn’t mean to cause you distress. My coursework is quite demanding and it requires my full attention.”

Mother’s hands move to his shoulders, her nails digging into him as she yanks him out of her bosom. The heat of her glare prickles his skin and he does well in keeping his blank expression.

“‘Full attention’?! Are you saying I am not worthy of your ‘precious’ attention? After all I’ve sacrificed for you? After all I’ve done for you! This is how you repay my kindness? My love?” her voice wavers, signaling the beginning of tears starting to form.

Ominis swallows the lump in his throat, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Mother. I know you’ve done much for me. Which is why I’m here now.”

She tsk’s then seethes, “You’ve been running away from your duties. Your responsibilities. I have done everything for you. I have created a path that’s best for you, yet you continue to act like a juvenile. I never should’ve allowed you to go off to that school. It’s pulled you too much away from me.”

“Please, Mother,” he says calmly, “Hogwarts is what’s best for me. You said so yourself. If I’m to be truly worthy as your son, then I must be educated. You know this.”

Sensing her growing annoyance and rage, he quickly adds, “I’ve longed to be here with you, Mother. I… missed you. And I haven’t forgotten my duties. I’m trying to prepare for them - as to make you proud. I only want to be a worthy son to you, Mother.”

She’s silent, her hold on his shoulders relax and she shifts a hand up to cup his cheek once more. He remains stoic and still, suppressing the chills and discomfort behind clenched teeth.

“You’ve changed,” she coos while rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “For the better it seems. It’s good you’ve come to your senses. And for you to return home. Return to me.”

He can’t bring himself to force a smile, so he only nods, “Of course, Mother.”

Mother sighs, letting him go then taking his arm to lead him, “Come. Let us eat. I’m sure you’re starving.”

Ominis doesn’t fight her, he needs her. At least until he finds what he’s looking for. Until then, he’ll play the part he knows so well - the good, obedient son.

Arriving at the dining room, they sit across from one another while Cimsy brings out their meal. A bland watery broth wafts up to his nose along with the welcoming scent of warm, fresh bread.

“Cimsy!” Mother hisses. “Surely this must be a joke. You do have something else prepared.”

He hears Cimsy wring her hands together as she stammers, “C-Cimsy is deeply sorry, Mistress. Cimsy could o-only make this. Mistress did not give Cimsy enough to buy-,”

“Shut up!”

Cimsy silences immediately while his Mother fumes. Ominis grips his spoon tightly, wishing he could speak up. But, he remains silent.

“Leave us. I expect something more worthwhile at dinner,” Mother sneers.

Cimsy doesn’t hesitate to leave. Their meal is in silence, thankfully. Once it’s done, Ominis finally decides to ask,

“Mother, would it be alright if I were to read through some of the records in the archives?”

There’s a long silence and Ominis holds his tongue to keep from groveling. His true intentions are on full display and he worries he may have shown too much.

“Why?” She questions.

“It’s time I’ve learned more of our namesake and heritage. I want to continue family traditions,” he replies quickly with the excuse he’s been repeating in his head since he first arrived.

Another long silence, and his tongue is bleeding from his sharp teeth digging into the flesh.

“I’ve been looking forward to this day,” Mother beams as she stands. Ominis releases a breath, going to stand as she continues, “Our family history is one which many don’t have the privilege of knowing.”

She goes over to Ominis, gripping his arm again as she leads him to the library. He can’t deny his excitement, his curiosity. The implications of his ancestors having a connection to Ancient Magic would give him as many questions as answers. He wonders if his path was always meant to intertwine with his love’s. The thought troubles him - the idea of him and her fated to be together instead of wanting to be doesn’t sit well with him. That his actions up to this point have been meaningless as they were always meant to happen this way. He shoves the idea aside, not wishing to dwell on the possibility any longer.

Mother pulls him through the dusty library to the locked room at the back. She produces her key, the door softly unlocks then opens, and they head inside the musty room. Mother taps a glass object and he hears the soft humming of what he assumes to be lights. Despite not having been in the archives in some time, it’s exactly as he remembers it.

The archives is a long rectangular room, adorned with shelves, cabinets, and display cases. The air carries a faint scent of aged paper and taxidermy beasts - beasts that have long since been wiped to extinction. Framed portraits of ancestors, their watchful gazes keeping a vigil over the room, stare into Ominis. He can imagine the sneers of these portraits as the disapproving mumblings of his blindness reach his ears.

Along the walls, rows of sturdy wooden shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, neatly organized and laden with volumes of journals, diaries, and bound manuscripts. Cabinets with glass doors stand proudly, showcasing delicate heirlooms and cherished mementos. A silver pocket watch, a set of wands, and worn leather gloves are among the treasures preserved.

In the center of the room, a large oak table serves as a workspace, adorned with magnifying glasses, quills and ink, and carefully arranged parchment paper.

The room exudes a sense of order and purpose, meticulously sorted and organized through generations. If there is one thing the Gaunt’s pride themselves on - it’s their family heritage.

“Ah, where to begin?” Gliding around the room, her fingers dance along the spines of journals and tomes until she stops on one. She pulls it from the shelf and flips it open.

“Gormalith will be of interest to you,” she begins then dives right into reading a rather boring account of what Gormalith had for breakfast and the subsequent torture of the house elf which made him said breakfast.

Before she can continue, Ominis interjects, “I was hoping I could find a certain time frame.”

Mother stares at him, shutting the book with a huff, “And what time frame would that be, Ominis?”

“I was thinking upon it the other day, and I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with any of our history during the 15th century.”

He can feel her brow raise, but she hums as she heads to the other side of the room. He follows, and notes when she lingers on a certain row of books.

“I doubt a boy your age would be interested in that era,” Mother dismisses then heads towards another shelf. “You would be far more pressed to know about Aron and his exploits in the east. In fact, he was able to capture a Ceasg during his voyage across the North Sea.”

Ominis’ brows pinch, but he suppresses his aggravation with a stiff nod, “If that’s what you believe is best.”

Mother continues to read to him about the accounts of his ancestors, and Ominis nods along - his mind drifting to the one row which she lingered at. As the afternoon shifts to evening, Ominis senses his mother growing bored of the history lesson.

“We should check on Cimsy to ensure dinner is being prepared,” she shuts the diary and grabs onto his arm.

“I wouldn’t mind staying here for a moment longer,” Ominis states then quickly adds, “If that’s alright.”

Her grip on his arm tightens, “You shouldn’t be in here by yourself, my sweetling.”

“I can handle myself,” he replies far too sharply. Her nails dig into him to confirm as much. “Besides, I’m utterly fascinated by our family heritage.”

“Ominis-,”

“You were saying I’ve been neglecting my duties,” he says as calmly as he can. “Perhaps this is the best way for me to understand my place. To appreciate the path you’ve set out for me, and understand my role in our family.”

Another long pause makes his shoulders tense.

She has a light, amused laugh before she places a kiss on his cheek, “Oh, my curious little boy. Very well, I’ll leave you to it,” she places the key into his palm. “Lock up when you’re done. I’ll have Cimsy come fetch you when dinner is ready.”

Mother leaves, and Ominis lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He stuffs the key into his pocket then heads quickly over to the shelf he’s been dying to investigate all day. He grabs as many journals as he can carry and takes them to the oak table. Plopping down into the worn leather chair, he begins to skim through the diaries.

According to what his love told him, Isidora would’ve been at Hogwarts in her youth around the 1450’s with the latest dates being before 1500 - when she became a professor. He grimaces at how wide of a year range that leaves him, but she also mentioned Headmistress Fitzgerald serving Hogwarts during that time frame. Rackham, Rookwood, and Bakar were also names he could search for. Hopefully, that’ll be enough for him to go on.

He’s barely made it through the first diary when Cimsy informs him of dinner being ready. Ominis is reluctant to leave, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. As he heads back to the dining room, he stops at his room - free from prying eyes. He takes out the archives key and conjures a duplicate. Satisfied, he hides the key in his desk then heads to dinner.

The air in the dining room is tense, and Ominis pauses for a moment as he enters the room. His father is at the head of the table while his mother is sat next to him. Ominis is hesitant as he takes his place across from his mother. The stench of scented smoke and tobacco emanates from his father. Some things truly haven’t changed, Ominis muses to himself.

Cimsy summons forth their dinner, a roast with potatoes and carrots, then she refills his mother and father’s drinks.

Ominis isn’t unfamiliar with the tense atmosphere - especially if his father is near - but it unsettles him all the same. The quiet clanking of their silver utensils hitting the fine china and chewing is the only noises to be heard. Ominis tries his best to not look like he’s rushing to finish eating, but he longs to leave this dinner.

“It seems you received a letter today,” Mother says in a low voice.

Fear clasps around his throat before he tilts his head with feign surprise, “Oh? From who?”

Paper rustles and tears, sending his heart beating frantically in his chest.

“Dearest Ominis,” Mother begins with a terse frown lacing her voice, “I hope you arrived safely. I miss you already. I hope to hear from you soon. Sincerely yours.”

Ominis lets out a quiet breath, thankful she did not write anything too sweet to him.

“Who is this?” Mother questions.

“A friend from school,” Ominis replies with no hesitation.

More rustling of paper as Mother re-reads the letter once again.

“And this friend,” Mother draws out, “who are they?”

“Just a friend. Nothing more,” Ominis counters.

“Friends do not write, ‘I miss you already’.”

Ominis can’t help his smirk, “Perhaps not yours.”

Mother scoffs, igniting the letter on fire - the smoke reaching his nose and making him scowl.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it? This friend?” Mother hisses. “Tell me, are you involved with her?”

“I’ve already said, she’s a friend. Nothing more. I don’t know what else you wish me to say on the matter. I can’t control what she writes. Perhaps she does hold some infatuation with me, but I do not return the affection,” Ominis clenches his jaw, his hand gripping on to his pants.

He hates it. The lies. But, he can’t afford to argue with Mother. Not when he’s only just started his search.

“She’s a Mudblood, isn’t she? It’s why you aren’t telling me her name,” Mother states. “Filthy things. I’m not surprised one is trying so hard to cling to you. She probably sees you as her only real way to any sort of status.”

He sits straighter, suppressing his anger at his mother’s vulgarity, “No. She’s not of pure standing, so you know I have no real interest in her.”

“You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Mudbloods in the first place,” Father’s deep, grating voice interjects with disapproval lacing his words. “Even speaking of them is enough to ruin my appetite.”

“Your father is right. Why are you writing to a Mudblood?” Mother demands. “She’s not worth your time. Not when there are plenty of others you would do well to correspond with.”

“She… has connections,” Ominis states. “Connections I require.”

“What sort of connections? What connections could a lowly half-breed possibly offer you that I cannot provide?” Mother’s voice raises with every word.

“Does it matter? Shouldn’t you be pleased that I’m at least capable of forming connections on my own?” Ominis hates how quickly he’s rising to her goading. But he can’t stop himself. “With how things are going here, it’s a wonder you aren’t praising me for finding anyone willing to associate with us.��

“Do not speak to me that-,”

“Enough!” Father’s voice booms as he slams his hand down on the table - rattling all the dishes. “I grow weary of this discussion and your disrespect. Leave!”

Ominis doesn’t need further prompting and he quickly rises from his chair. Before he can fully leave, his mother’s voice calls out.

“Leave the key.”

He sighs, going through his pockets to produce the duplicate, and slams it at the end of the dining table. Then he quickly retreats to his room. As soon as the door shuts, he falls back against the door with a heavy breath.

He wishes this was the first time a dinner had gone sourly, but alas it isn’t - and it won’t be the last. The dusty smell from earlier has faded and he catches the faintest aroma of clean sheets. Oh Cimsy, he smiles to himself. She does too much for him.

Pushing himself off the door, he heads to his desk to write to his love - since going to the archives now would be risky. The stationary in the top drawer is slick under his fingers, and he enchants the quill to begin writing.

He lays in bed, waiting as time moves slowly by. He hopes to leave soon to continue his reading. With his siblings being mercifully absent, he can somewhat relax as he waits. His mind drifts to her. What might she be up to? He focuses on her, and he senses her worry, concern, and anticipation.

Turning to his side, he reaches out in a vain attempt to feel her next to him - to comfort her. She voiced her displeasure of him going as he left, and her concerns were valid. But, he’s tired of sitting idly by as she wrestles with this Ancient Magic on her own.

The tips of his fingers warm and, for a moment, it’s like she’s touching him back. In his mind’s eyes, he can picture the dip in the bed of her laying next to him - facing him with a soft smile as he traces her face. Despite having just been with her, it feels like they’ve been apart for too long.

“Don’t worry, my sweet,” he whispers. “I promise I’m fine, and I’ll return to you soon.”

Feather light touches brush along his cheek and comb through his hair. A pleasant shiver rolls down his spine, and the pull of sleep starts to draw him deeper into her phantom caresses. With a sigh, he reluctantly gets up from the bed and heads to the archives.

Sneaking towards the library is a feat he’s done numerous times. He has all the portraits which would rat him out mapped, and since he doesn’t require the aid of light he can stay hidden in the dark the whole time. Once in the archives, he continues reading the journal from earlier.

He repeats this process over the course of the week, growing more and more frustrated as the days pass. Navigating his mother and dealing with the forced dinners is exhausting enough, but reading through the mundane, sadistic ramblings of his ancestors is a form of torture in itself. He barely sleeps, not that he has any desire to in this place.

Since the letter, Mother has felt it apt for him to truly understand why Mudbloods are ‘lower, primitive beings’. These ‘lessons’ are enough to bring him to the edge. He’s nearly voiced his displeasure on several occasions, if not for the reminder that he hasn’t found what he’s looking for yet. And if he were to go against his mother now, then everything would have been for nought. So, he remains silent, letting his mother prattle on.

He gets a brief solace when Mother is ‘too tired to deal with him’, allowing him to roam about without her watchful gaze. It’s in these moments he retreats to the gardens - overgrown and dying - and he naps in his secluded spot behind the bushes under the gnarly tree.

It’s another late night as he flips through the pages of Amphelisia’s diary, finding her accounts to mirror his own in terms of schooling. It’s during her Fifth Year that things get interesting.

I can’t believe the events that transpired today. By my troth, a student joined Hogwarts as a Fifth Year! Completely unheard of. I didn’t hear her name over Mathias’ prattling, but she was sorted into Ravenclaw. Tragic really, as I would’ve been keen on observing her.

How could someone be admitted into Hogwarts so late - is the question on everyone’s lips. I’m determined to find out more anon.

Ominis nearly rips the page as he quickly turns it to find out more. He skims through the entries until a familiar name jumps out at him.

Isidora Morganach is by far the most ghastly, presumptuous girl I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. Not only does she have all the professors charmed, but she has most of the class absolutely enamored. Methinks it’s because she’s new, and, similar to a two-headed beast, she’s a spectacle.

But the final insult was when we had our mock duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. She swiftly dispatched my Protego charm as if I didn’t even have it up then she knocked me off the platform. The entire class laughed. LAUGHED! At me! I shan't forget this.

He can’t believe it. He’s finally found mentions of Isidora. He continues his reading until another entry strikes his interest.

Isidora may have her uses after all. In Transfiguration, I struggled with the conjuration of a simple cup. Meanwhile, Isidora had no issue conjuring her own. Before Professor Rookwood could see, Isidora conjured a cup right on my desk. Professor Rookwood was so impressed with me, he used ‘my cup’ as an example for the rest of the class. Perhaps, befriending her may be advantageous to me.

A few entries later, he finds mentions of Amphelisia showing the Undercroft to Isidora as their own private hideaway. He grins as he reads over their growing, albeit reluctant, friendship. But as he finishes the diary, there’s no mention of Ancient Magic. Amphelisia comments on Isidora being gifted in magic, with her spells being quite powerful, but Isidora never discloses the nature of it to Amphelisia.

Ominis searches the shelves, summoning down more of Amphelisia’s dairies. He knows the hour is growing later - with the morning soon upon him - but he’s close. He has to be. It isn’t until Amphelisia is a young woman when Isidora is mentioned again.

I received the strangest owl today. My old friend, Isidora, wrote to me. The contents of the letter were somewhat troubling, but she insisted we meet. I shall see what she wants, and I pray it isn’t a waste of time.

The next entry makes him scowl.

Isidora gave me a book of some kind. Locked, and I have no way of opening it despite my best efforts. Always the clever one. I’m tempted to throw it away as burning it does nothing.

The rest of Amphelisia’s diary makes no mention of Isidora’s book, nor what she decided to do with it. Ominis paces the room, scanning the shelves for any signs of this possible journal. He frowns - cursing Amphelisia for possibly throwing away the one clue he desperately needed. Collapsing in the leather chair, Ominis debates about continuing his reading or leaving. He taps his wand in thought when a familiar vibration makes him pause.

His breath catches in his throat as he turns his wand towards the source. It’s… just like hers. He scrambles from his seat, rushing towards the vibration at the corner. Throwing open the cabinet door, he pulls out the boxes until he’s able to reach the one he’s needing. He tears his way into the box, shoving aside the various knick knacks and trinkets until his whole arm shoots up with magical sparks.

There, in his hand, is a journal. He slowly picks it up and cradles the leather-bound journal in both of his hands as if it were a delicate, priceless jewel. He laughs, almost manically. This is it. It had to be.

Footsteps approach the door to the archive and Ominis can’t spare any more time in rejoicing. He shoves the journal into his coat pocket then he grabs a random object in the box to hold.

The door flies open and Mother storms inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She exclaims as she strides over to where he is.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Mother?” His reply is calm and level.

She stands above him and snarls, “It looks like you’ve made a mess of things in here.”

Ominis places the artifact he’s holding into the box and rises up. He’s practically eye level with her and he doesn’t back down from her scornful gaze. He feels her take a step back.

“H-How did you even get in here?” She questions in a quiet voice.

“I made a copy of the key, obviously,” he replies with a smirk.

“You…,” she falls silent. “You… insolent little child!”

The air parts and the sound of skin hitting skin rings in the air. His cheek blooms in a heated flame and he registers the pain which accompanies it. He turns his head back towards her, unphased.

“If you’re done, I’ll take my leave,” he says in an eerily calm tone.

He doesn’t wait, but instead brushes past her and heads out of the room. He hears her calling his name, but her cries fall on deaf ears. Once in his room, he’s quick to write to his love - informing her of his finding and his soon to be departure. His hand shakes as he commands the quill to write, giddy to be with her once again. As soon as his owl takes flight, it doesn’t take him long to have his bag packed.

Before he leaves the room, he goes back to his desk. So many memories, tucked away - and likely to be burned once he leaves. He sits back at the desk, reaching into the drawer to find the protruding piece of wood. He opens the secret compartment to grab what he’s kept hidden for so long.

He holds the ring delicately in his fingers. The cold metal is intricate with stones inlaid within the band to accent the well-sized jewel at the center. He’s sure it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry. A frown comes over him at having left it here in the first place. Aunt Noctua gave it to him before she left - believing he needed an heirloom for himself since he was bound to not receive any.

Aunt Noctua made him promise to keep it safe. At the time, he was so angry with her leaving him that he threw it in the garden. Cimsy was the one to place the ring on his desk one afternoon, polished and clean of dirt. He hid it in the desk after. Feeling over the ring, a smile starts to form on his lips. He tucks the ring into his pocket then he’s out of his room.

It’s Cimsy which awaits him in the main entryway. He makes out her figure hunched over, scrubbing at the floors. Cimsy looks up to him and stops her cleaning efforts.

“Oh, young Master,” her eyes drift over him and she gasps. “A-Are you leaving? So soon?”

Ominis sets his suitcase down and kneels down to be closer to the house elf.

He nods, “I’m afraid I am. I’ve… gotten what I came here for. And I don’t know when I’ll return. If… I’ll return,” he sighs. “I never gave you a proper goodbye last time, Cimsy. I would like to give you one now.”

He holds out his hands and Cimsy places her wrinkled ones in his. He holds her hands with a soft smile.

“You’ve always been kind to me, Cimsy. Thank you. For all you do. And I wish you the best,” he whispers.

Cimsy squeezes his hands, “Cimsy lives to serve the Masters of the Gaunt family. Cimsy is proud of the young Master. Cimsy… wishes you well, young Master.”

Ominis squeezes her hands once more before he stands. He grips his suitcase and wand.

“Goodbye, Cimsy,” he says as he heads towards the grand double door.

Just as he flicks his wand to open the door, frantic footsteps rush towards him.

“Ominis!” Mother practically cries. “Y-You’re leaving? You’re leaving me!?”

Ominis feels the breeze of the mid-morning air hitting his face. The sun is just out of his reach.

“I am,” he says without turning to face her.

“But, you can’t leave me, Ominis. You need me,” she sobs loudly, the sounds twisting his heart. “If it was because of earlier, I’m sorry. But, you know better than to make such a mess! And to sneak in without my permission-, you’ve never been so disobedient! What was I to do?”

“I know. And I apologize for doing such,” he states flatly. “But, my time here is done.”

“No!” Mother hisses as she snags his arm, her nails digging into his flesh through is clothes. “You don’t get to decide when you’re done. You have duties to fulfill. Obligations and responsibilities. You are my son!”

Ominis closes his eyes, sighing to himself with pinched brows. He turns his head towards his mother.

“I’m leaving. And you can’t stop me.”

Yanking himself free, his first step forward is met with her sharp gasp, then the next is a wailing sob, but once he’s in the sun he’s all but free. Going down the steps, Mother cries out.

“Ominis! Ominis!” Mother’s voice is all but a screeching wail, and it sends shivers down his spine at how angry and desperate she sounds. “You can’t leave me! You need me! I love you. I’m the only one who loves you! My little boy! Come back to me! Don’t do this to me, Ominis!”

Ominis can’t stop smiling. There was a time when he believed her words to be true - that no one would ever truly love him. But now, he knows it to be nothing more than empty words meant to chain him. And as he steps through the gate, the weight of those chains all but fall as he continues towards the ones who truly love him.

-------------------------------

BONUS

She’s putting up the dishes from breakfast when a letter lands on the table. A notable Slytherin crest seal gets her attention. Nearly shattering the plates as she drops them, she rips it open. She’s just reached the end when Sebastian calls out.

“It’s Ominis!”

She’s out the door, finding him walking towards the shop with a bright grin on his face.

“Ominis!” She grins as she rushes towards him.

“Good morning, my-,”

He’s nearly tackled to the ground by her as she throws herself into him. Her arms wrap around his neck and he laughs as he drops his suitcase to embrace her.

“I missed you,” she whispers in his ear, making him hold her tighter.

“And I you,” he whispers back.

She slowly releases him, her hands cupping his face, “Oh, Ominis. You look exhausted.”

Worry bubbles in his chest - stemming from her. He holds her hands, an action he’s been dying to do since he left, and he smiles.

“I’m alright. I promise.”

“Ah, there’s the heroic knight, back from his adventure,” Sebastian grins as he joins them. “Well, have you come back with anything?”

She releases him and steps back while Ominis reaches into his jacket pocket. Producing the journal, she gasps.

“It’s… glowing,” she whispers.

“It is?” Sebastian questions.

“It’s protected by Ancient Magic. It’s how I found it in the first place,” Ominis states as he hands the journal to her.

“Wait, you found it because of the Ancient Magic?” Sebastian wonders. “Does that mean you can ‘see’ it like she can?”

“I believe I may be able to sense Ancient Magic, yes.”

The journal clicks open and she looks up to Ominis with wide eyes, “Amazing. I… I’m happy you were able to find something.”

Ominis gives her a warm smile, but his tired eyes only make her frown. She grabs his hand, motioning for Sebastian to take the suitcase.

“Here, come inside. Are you hungry? I can make you something. Then you should rest,” she says while tugging him inside.

“I wouldn’t mind some toast and tea. Then a nap wouldn’t hurt.”

Ominis sits at the kitchen table, enjoying the warmth of the sun as it filters through the window. He hears her as she bustles about the quaint kitchen, bringing him toast, eggs, and fruit along with his tea. He laughs to himself, but he can’t say he doesn’t mind the attention. Once he’s eaten he heads to her room upstairs, barely able to change himself out of his clothes into something more comfortable before collapsing.

His eyes are heavy, and the soft knock at the door startles him.

“Come in,” he says.

She steps into the room, walking towards him as the door shuts softly behind her, “Is there anything I can get you?”

He chuckles, “No, my dear, I’m quite alright,” he turns towards her then holds out his hand, “But, I wouldn’t mind if you laid with me. At least, until I fall asleep.”

She doesn’t hesitate to take his hand and she crawls into bed to lay next to him. Her lips are on his in another second, and he hums in both surprise and approval. His fingers are quick to tangle in her hair and he smiles into her eager kisses. When they part, it’s a soft sigh. He traces over her cheek with a warm smile.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

“And I missed you. Terribly,” she whispers just as quietly back. Her fingers brush his hair from his temple and he closes his eyes at the gentle touch. “I love you.”

A thrill shoots up his spine and his brows pinch. He opens his eyes to direct them towards her.

“Can you… say that again?”

She lets out a gentle laugh, kissing his cheek, “I love you, Ominis.”

A whimper escapes his lips and he presses his forehead to hers, brushing their noses together.

“I could go on about all the things I love about you, Ominis,” she strokes his cheek with a smile, “Shall I tell you?”

What his words could not say, his pleading eyes did.

“I love your smile,” she says while kissing the corner of his lips, “I love your gentle touch,” she kisses his palm, “I love your laugh, and sweet voice,” she kisses his neck, making him gasp, “I love your heart - your kindness and compassion.”

She drifts back up to his face, which is now flushed in a beautiful pink hue.

“I love your intelligence. Your quick and clever mind,” she kisses his forehead then she lingers just above his lips. “But, most of all, I love how you see me. You love me, for me. You accept me as I am, and encourage me to become better. You see all my flaws, and you still choose to love me. With you, I feel seen.”

He kisses her, his passion coming fully forward. Little whimpers and gasps escape him at her matching his intensity. As their tongues tangle and their breaths grow heavy, he hopes this will be enough to convey how much she means to him.

They slowly part once more with soft smiles and heated faces. He tucks her hair behind her ear, finding the warmth of her closeness slowly lulling him to sleep.

She lets out a content sigh, “Get some rest, handsome.”

Feeling her warmth next to him, it’s easy for him to fall asleep.

------------------------------

They wake up from their nap still tangled in each other’s embrace. The afternoon sun begins to shine into the room, and Ominis tells her of how he found Isidora’s journal.

“As it turns out, my ancestor was indeed friends with Isidora. She thought it odd that someone would arrive at Hogwarts during their Fifth year. Remind you of someone?” Ominis grins.

She laughs, “It seems some things never change,” her brows pinch as she hums in thought. “I suppose even us… to a certain extent. Perhaps meeting each other may not have been an accident at all.”

Her fingers play with his hair in deep thought and she finally whispers,

“Do you believe us to be soul mates? That we were destined to be together?”

Ominis frowns for a moment then shakes his head.

“No. I don’t.”

Her eyes widen, but he continues before she can say anything.

“To be bound by fate, means that we were always destined to be together. That we didn’t get a choice in whether or not to love each other,” he states with a growing smile. “But, I choose to be with you. Me. Not fate, nor destiny. It’s because I choose to love you, and you me. And, I would choose you every time.”

Tears well in her eye for a moment before she giggles, “I’m glad to be chosen by you then. For I choose you too.”

He kisses her and smiles against her lips, “And I’m grateful to be considered yours.”

Ominis sighs, the last of his worries melting away in her warmth. He’s thankful to be here - with her.

His home.

--------------

AN: Well... this took forever. But I really wanted to capture the tensions and the 'walking on eggshells' feeling of Ominis trying to navigate around his mother. Idk, i tried lol. Also the bonus is just lil thoughts i had after the fact but I didn't want to expand on them any further than what I had so figured why not just add it to this one LOL

But, yeah I think that wraps up my 5th year stuff. I'll probs post some oneshots/6th year stuff as im writing the BIG 7th year project.

Also, I'm almost at 400 followers which is wild to think about. Was thinking about maybe doing something for it -> but idk what. any ideas would be appreciated <3

Thanks again for reading and feedback is always welcomed <3

85 notes · View notes

superconductivebean · 6 months

Text

#782: Faculty Tower Breakdown

This one post is going to be small but very special to me. ^ ^

For quite some time, months I'll say, I've been wondering about how the castle's inside matches its outside. Where are the windows of professors' rooms? How to spot less obvious locations from outside the walls? Not at all a full comprehensive guide but still might be a helpful tip to the Slice of Life authors or anybody curious out there.

We'll start with a tidbit of my House — The Ravenclaw Tower.

The post has obnoxious amount of pictures.

Apologies for funny handwriting.

As you can see, the tower has floors for each year but only 4 of the 7 are accessible in-game. Floor plaques are also differently placed (6th year floor being reserved for the 5th year students) and you'd have to use imagination to fit in the bathrooms.

Ravenclaw Tower overlooks the Faculty Tower. Roughly put together, the most notable locations of the Tower are these:

To put it all into a perspective that is likely to be seen in-game: the view from an archway leading out to the Entrance Hall courtyard.

As you can see, first floor staff gathering could oversee the Quad courtyard through the erker— oriel window. Professor Sharp has one as well but his view might be obstructed and limited due to its height.

Here's what our lovely Potions master could see through the oriel window:

And here is what he could see through the other window:

Hogwarts is easy to navigate outside by its windows. Each location has different kind and form of windows — or non at at all but that bit is for another day (if anybody is interested in a little continuation).

The wall of five closely put triple lancet windows seen conjoining the Clock Tower is the passageway seen outside the Hospital Wing:

Windows of the Hospital Wing are also very distinct by the sheer size and match the ~30 degree angle of the outer wall:

With a little bit of Ansel magic, we can with all certainty tell that the Prefects Bathroom is directly underneath the Hospital Wing:

And is located on the same level as the lower part of the passageway to the Clock Tower.

Knowing this, we can go down the helix, that is around the centre part of the Tower, and found ourselves here:

Down the stairs are Sharp's private quarters (if you scroll up to the Quad Courtyard pictures you'll notice 'balcony'; I was referring to this place specifically) and the same wall Hospital Wing, Prefects Bathroom and the Faculty Tower Staircase are facing.

Here is the better show of the area outside:

and from the inside:

Sharp's windows:

Bits of magic again to better understand the room's placement; interesting thing to notice: 1) Sharp's fireplace doesn't have functioning chimney at all; 2) his art room is directly above his bedroom; 3) the lower oriel window is the Faculty Tower's hall, meeting hall? Whatever; those two out-of-place windows are the ones on the floor where you can find Professor Onai and Professor Ronen's rooms.

Speaking of which.

Rooms of said professors 1) don't have any windows, 2) share a wall, 3) and both share a wall to the corridor leading to Gryffindor Common Room:

If you remember, Professor McGonagall could hear Gryffindor partying behind the wall of her chambers. 🤭

Underneath the floor are Professor Fig and Professor Garlic's chambers:

A better look on the windows in professors' bedrooms:

If you think something doesn't add up on that wall, it is. The lower part isn't displaying the helix on the right correctly; the windows should've been following the curve of the stairs. I would attach the pictures proving it but only 30 are allowed per post so. .—.

Tags: @gufu-vire @thriftstorebabayaga @phinik-nonw @muzzzzle

I'm totally sane about this game. ^ ^

#днявочка #днявочка: hlegacy #днявочка: игры #hogwarts inquires #eng tag #hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp #eleazar fig

42 notes · View notes

greenerteacups · 3 months

Note

Hi! I made this account just so I could interact with you like this and tell you that your writing got me back out of a reading slump! Should you ever choose to author and publish a book please let me know, I will be the first to pick it up at the nearest bookstore available. I'm very excited to see where you take us in the fifth installment of your rewrite for this series! And quick question, which Hogwarts house do you align yourself with? ∼ Cheers and much love from an anonymous Hufflepuff

You're so incredibly sweet, thank you for warming my heart on a very cold day. Hearing someone say 'I would pay for your work' is kind of the highest compliment a fanfic author can receive. In the meantime, it's my honor to give you something that you can enjoy for free!

I waffle on the House question, since my view on Sorting is very contextual and volitional. Like, Sorting happens when you're eleven, right after you're boated up to the castle in this big stinking display of magical grandeur that's probably shit-slapping levels of scary, and then you get stood up in front of every peer you have and asked to decide what you want your place in that universe to be. That makes for some panicky, spur-of-the-moment decision-making! No wonder a lot of pureblood kids default to the House their parents picked! No wonder Harry ends up Gryffindor basically by default after blurting "not Slytherin" (which is the Hat's first suggestion — remember that the first two things Harry wants to do when he finds out he's a wizard are (1) jinx Dudley (avenge himself) and (2) buy a pure golden cauldron (status symbol). Canon!FirstYear!Harry is like, probably a Slytherin by temperament, being a neglected eleven-year-old child who's almost violently desperate for safety and approval and love, but that's okay, because being in Gryffindor turns him into one. Ron Weasley, in particular, turns him into one, but that's too much for me to get into right now.) Obviously, this all informs a lot of how I write character and socialization in Lionheart. House isn't destiny, it's culture! I could go on.

So like, if you sorted me right now? Gryffindor. Because I think bravery is the most important value in my life, it's what reminds me to be kind and patient and thoughtful, because it takes bravery to do those things in a world that is, frankly, much easier to navigate if you shut yourself off to others' feelings and ideas. But it's also a much worse world. That doesn't mean I'm not ambitious or curious or loyal, it just means that bravery is the value I consciously try to practice. But if you Sorted me at eleven, I'd probably get Slytherin, because I was — without doing The Backstory of it all — not the most jazzed-to-be-alive child, and I really, badly, desperately wanted to GTFO of my hometown and like — I dunno, succeed so hard it retroactively justified every time I was ever lonely? Somehow?? Details of that plan were always a bit unclear. But general "I am going to get a good grade in Life, something that is reasonable to want and possible to achieve" type vibes. Horrendous. Point being, I'd have likely asked for the House I identified with at eleven — Slytherin — because I considered "ambition" the most important virtue of my (again: eleven-year-old) life so far. (This is assuming that I don't run into a Hermione- or Ron-type character who warns me away from all the pureblood/classist nastiness; if that happened, I'd probably end up in Ravenclaw.)

I have no idea whether the Hat would have agreed with me. In canon, we never see it actually veto a choice, only grant requests. Which makes me wonder — if someone asked for a House that they were really, profoundly ill-suited for (as I think some of the canonical Slytherins might have done), what would it do?

#footnote to the last paragraph that I find fun is that lionheart!draco doesn't initially ask the hat for Slytherin #he's so carried off in the assumption that he'll end up there he doesn't bother to ask #but this is draco's problem #he splits up all goods into “things i deserve” and “things i don't deserve”#so as a kid it doesn't occur to him that he doesn't “deserve” to be in slytherin #and that the hat wouldn't as such immediately acknowledge that fact #which of course. prevents him from actually. yknow. asking for it.#blessed little idiot. see? do you see how asking nicely could have improved your life??#another possible subtitle for LH tbh.#greenteacup asks

33 notes · View notes

sebastianswallows · 1 year

Text

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 3 — The Three Broomsticks again

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: a bit of angst and awkward flirting

— WORDCOUNT: 3.4k

— A/N: Follows right after the previous chapter. This is just one big exposition of adult!Sebastian's thoughts and feelings about the dark arts. Enjoy!

— TAGLIST: @micheruhime @sarcasticpluviophile

Having a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks was not what she expected to do that day when she met Sebastian in London, but after getting over her grouches and complaints at having to walk all the way to Hogsmeade in her nicest dress, she could allow herself to appreciate the calm and quiet atmosphere of the place. It felt like being back in school. The wooded area had not changed at all in the years since she’d last been there, and neither had the village and its people.

The Forbidden Forest had dominated the horizon the whole while as they approached, standing tall and dark to their left, and the little river whispered as they crossed it on the little stone bridge. They walked by little packs of students heading back to Hogwarts before nightfall, and in the village found the same old vendors she used to stop at for supplies and sweets.

By the time they were sat at a table in the inn, the hem of her dress was brown with mud, and even her broad lady’s hat could not save her hair from the gusts of wind that ravaged them as they walked there, and the things it carried on it.

“My treat,” said Sebastian, putting their drinks down while she picked stray fluff and flower petals and insects from her hair.

“I see you are very skilled at escaping,” she said with a smirk. “Had a lot of practice in it?”

“It’s a skill that keeps one alive,” he shrugged with false modesty, leaning casually over his seat. His shirt collar had come undone and his hair looked even messier than usual, but the look suited Sebastian very well. The adventure had even put colour in his cheeks, and a healthy blush now covered his freckles.

“I must say, I never knew a wizard to Apparate at such a distance. Your range is impressive.”

“This region is one very close to me. I’ve come here often, by magical means or otherwise… I suppose that makes it easier.”

She didn’t inquire about the little house they had appeared before, although it didn’t escape her how the very sight of it had softened him. She took a drink and quietly regarded the man in front of her. The thought that Sebastian had grown up there, in that quiet little farming village, only endeared him more to her. She drowned the feeling with another drink.

“You do realise, I hope, that we should be expecting a Ministry inquiry after today.”

“Why?” he shrugged, twirling his wand. “There’s at least two dozen cursed items in the British Museum — that they know of. Warnings on ancient tombs are rarely heeded, and before you know it, you filled your muggle museum with corpses that don’t want to be there and all of their funeral effects… That something should move untowardly is hardly an unusual occurrence for them.”

“And the Ministry just lets that be?”

“Sometimes,” he grinned, downing half his drink.

She looked him over as she thought about what he just said. Suddenly, his familiarity with the place, his ease in the middle of so many muggles, and even his skills at navigating that enormous building, all fell into place.

“Have they hired you before, to… retrieve items from the British Museum?”

“No,” he said with a charming smile.

“Is that the official answer?”

“It’s the only answer.”

She nodded and smiled back, cupping her hands around her mug to cool her skin. The darkness and quiet rumble of the inn helped calm her heart after the excitement of the day, and she could finally feel her mind catch up with everything. She had learned a lot about Sebastian that day, and was disturbed to realise she’d learned a lot about herself as well — how easily it came to her to play along with him, to do irresponsible things in irresponsible places, and to offer herself as a vessel for his worries and regrets... And she didn’t expect him to feel so deeply about his sister, to carry such tender and vulnerable emotions, after the image he put up of a daring and thoughtless adventurer and dabbler in curses, but she knew now that there was a devastatingly soft side to him… and she knew exactly what to do with it.

“Mr Sallow,” she started after they sat in silence for a while.

“I told you, call me Sebastian,” he smiled.

“S-Sebastian… If my brother really is missing because he’s just sick of me, then… what would you advise I do?”

He took another drink and thought about it. “Accept it,” he finally said, looking somewhere over her shoulder. “You can’t force someone’s affection, not even that of a sibling. We might think we’re entitled to it, but… if they choose to take it away, there isn’t much one can do.”

“I don’t think I could accept it,” she said, looking into his eyes, waiting for him to look back.

Sebastian shrugged. “Well, that doesn’t leave you with many options,” he said, finally looking at her.

“I would take anything other than abandonment.”

“So would I,” he smiled sadly. Then, after downing his drink, he added as an afterthought, “Though I suppose the operative word is take. Speaking of which, how about another drink?”

She smirked and looked him up and down, their earlier conversation running through her mind while Sebastian brought over another pair of butterbeers. It was risky, but she wanted to broach this subject…

“You spoke of dark magic with quite a touch of admiration before,” she whispered.

“Just a touch?”

“A full-body caress...”

“That’s more like it,” he grinned and took a drink.

“But how can you? A curse is what took your sister away, isn’t it?”

“I hope you don’t read too much into it. It’s purely an intellectual curiosity.”

“I don’t believe that at all,” she said, leaning back in her seat and looking into his eyes.

Sebastian gave her a teasing smile and held her gaze. It was with some difficulty that he had held himself back, especially as he so rarely had the opportunity to speak to anyone at all about these things. Certainly, he had his clients and his colleagues, all manner of people who had very deep interests in the topic, but speaking about it to someone new, someone innocent, had a certain appeal to him no matter the risk — of exposure, of liability, of driving her away only as he’d just begun to draw her in…

“In that case, for my part, I will say that in spite of what you said to me that first night, I don’t believe you truly like brutal truths, Miss.”

She swallowed the knot in her throat and paused to think for a moment. Looking down at the table, she avoided his eyes as she gathered her words.

“Do not mistake my reservations for revulsion, Mr Sallow —Sebastian. I can recognise how something that is on the surface so hazardous can, nevertheless, be… stimulating. Like what we experienced earlier at the museum,” she finished with a smile, looking up at him again.

“I doubt you do understand.”

“Perhaps, but I’m beginning to.”

“And would you like to understand more?” he asked, biting his fleshy lower lip.

“Only as much as you are willing to share…”

How much of himself could he afford to reveal on what was only their second meeting? He had a love-hate relationship with curses, a strange balance between fascination and disgust, and he saw no reason to deny it, or so he told himself. Besides, she needed him — she’d said so herself. She would not cut contact with him if she believed him to be the only one who could help find her brother. And if she thought him more experienced with this dangerous side of magic, all the better to demonstrate his credentials…

“Curses are an art form,” he began. “We saw among the exhibits items that held, like a real thing with real power, the malice of their maker for hundreds of years — fierce things to their targets, but fascinating to stare at in a little glass case. The curse that took my sister from me, for instance, was a masterpiece… in its own evil way. It was a magnificent creation. The way it used the body of its victim against it, the way it manipulated the soul to destroy the mind… And it did destroy, so much more than its caster intended it to.”

She listened patiently, taking in the shadows of feeling that moved across Sebastian’s face while keeping hers impassive. He needed to talk about this, whether or not he realised it. The flow of his words showed it — a torrent of precise and detailed ideas that he had refined over and over until they reached this, their final form.

“There can be, indeed, a beauty to a curse,” he said with a tired grin. “Once released, it is a power all its own, with the capacity to destroy anything in its path — like a force of nature, borne from a wizard’s mind. If you can't break it, and you can't escape it... what is there left to do but admire it? Even the most vile curses, the most horrifying, the most evil... they are all wonderful in their own way.”

As if just remembering that she was there, Sebastian looked up, gave another of his charming smiles, and took a deep drink. He looked at the mug with dissatisfaction as he put it down — he should have ordered something stronger than butterbeer. Leaning back in his seat, he let his fingers tap a nonsensical pattern on the table.

“Some might find that to be a terrifying opinion,” he said at length, and she couldn’t fail to notice a touch of regret in his voice — how many friends had he lost to this forbidden fascination? “I suppose that should come as no surprise. A distasteful string of ideas, isn’t it, what I’ve just told you…? Ideas that should not be thought, thoughts that should not be spoken. Polite wizarding society fears such ideas and with good reason. But… I believe fear is a useless thing. Don’t you agree?”

When he finally dared to look up at her, he found her smiling. It was a tight-lipped, modest smile, but it seemed to have a lot behind it. When she spoke, her voice was softer than her eyes intimated.

“Well, I do not know enough about your philosophy to agree or disagree. I… can only respect your determination to follow it, wherever it leads.”

“I wish you could understand it,” he said. “What it feels like to… to throw yourself into this field. It is the greatest adventure.”

“Probably because each item you encounter could be your last.”

“Well, yes, that has something to do with it,” he smiled sheepishly.

“But why would you want it to be your last?”

“It’s about more than that, it always has been, it’s about… about…” His hands moved, trying to form the words that wouldn’t come to him. When he looked up, he found her gazing at him with a quiet calm that troubled him — perhaps he’d said too much. “Well, I am happy to see you are still here with me, nevertheless.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding modestly. “It’s the least I could do, after all your help…”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Sebastian in a low voice.

“Although certainly, you must face many dangers in your line of work. You, and your colleagues too… Are you never concerned that you might be wounded, or worse? Have you, in fact, ever been seriously hurt?”

Sebastian waved his hand dismissively. “I've been lucky enough to never be seriously affected by a magical construct. Of course, I've had my fair share of cuts and bruises, but all that is a small price to pay when dealing with fascinating things.”

“Lucky, you say? Is it luck, or more?”

“You must be thinking about your brother again…”

“Naturally.”

“In this line of work, one has to be modest. You can be prepared, you can train, you can hone your skills, but all the skill in the world is worth nothing without a bit of luck. Still, even in the safest profession, death is inevitable. I know I'll meet my end eventually, one way or another, so why not give my life towards my calling?”

“And is the breaking of curses your only calling? The only joy you have in life?”

Her words gave him pause. Did he have any other joy in life besides his books, his research, and exploring the depths of dark magic?

“I think I am at risk of giving the wrong answer,” he said, laughing awkwardly. As his eyes crinkled, she could see once more those dark circles she’d noticed the night they met. “Let's just say that my love for my work far outweighs my love for anything else.”

“I don't think there is a wrong answer to such a thing,” she said, looking at him curiously. “It’s just that I don’t believe you.”

He shrugged, grinning at her apologetically. “I don't think I have any other talents. I'll likely live and die in the service of my clients. That’s noble enough, isn’t it?”

“And your family?”

“As I said, I don’t have any family.”

“None at all?”

“Not anymore.”

She nodded, extending a sympathetic smile to him — the most sincere one he’d seen from her yet.

“It is never too late to find a new one,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear. “Or to make one.”

He laughed at that. “I doubt any woman would have me.”

“How can you say such a thing?” she smiled gently, almost as if speaking to a child. “I’m sure you do not need me to list your qualities, Ominis has been singing your praises ever since we met: clever, daring, loyal, and fiendishly talented with all forms of magic... You would be a wonderful match for anyone. Although… a career as a curse-breaker might scare off certain ladies who prefer their husbands intact.”

He looked down at the ground, slightly embarrassed. “Ominis is a good friend who has a talent for making other people seem better than they are.” He looked up, looking straight into her eyes. “Besides, if I were to have a family, I'd want a wife that can see past the dangers of my vocation. And I would want her to be just as dangerous as I am.”

She hadn’t expected to hear that from him, and she didn’t like the way he looked at her as he said it. It was almost as if he was challenging her, or pointing out what were, in his eyes, her flaws.

“Such a woman can be hard to come by,” she said coolly.

“I hope so,” he chuckled. “I enjoy dangerous things, discomforting things... My ‘philosophy’, as you call it, allows for only the rarest, the choicest of companions. I want a lady who thinks the way I do, and feels the way I do, and is fierce and frightening and merciless and, at the same time, the most tender being imaginable.”

“You are demanding,” she smiled, leaning back to rest her hands on her lap.

She was the furthest thing from dangerous, and at the same time, she could not recall a moment where she had expressed real tenderness — at least, not in the way he probably meant it.

More and more, his gaze unnerved her. She suddenly felt very inadequate not only compared to his dream girl, but also compared to him. Sebastian Sallow was a man who knew exactly what he was, what he wanted, and what he wanted from others. He had a frightful clarity of vision.

“I have to be demanding,” he grinned, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “And don’t tell me you aren’t as well.”

“Not at all,” she said with mock seriousness. “All I require from a suitor are good looks, a strong body, a modicum of wealth, a propensity for violence, and a bit of intelligence.”

“And in that order, I’m sure,” he laughed.

She only levelled a quiet smile at him in reply.

The more she learned about Sebastian, the more this mission from Ominis soured on her. His ideas were monstrous, his line of work was a nightmare, and worst of all his taste in women was something unachievable for her. In only one day he put her at risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy in the middle of a crowd of muggles, Apparated her halfway across the country, sang the praises of dark magic, and did it all with a smile — expecting, no doubt, for her to find him impressive.

After all of this, she was ready to leave Sebastian to his fate. An early death at the tendrils of some curse gone awry, or at the end of a wand on the other end of which was a dissatisfied customer, or something equally meaningless…

Ominis had promised to pay generously if she could sway Sebastian away from such a fate, something even he could not accomplish. The sum had left an impression on her when all of this was just a hypothetical exercise, but suddenly it didn’t seem nearly enough. She should write to Ominis first thing in the morning, letting him know that he should try someone else. Perhaps a talented Obliviator, to wipe the evil desires from Sebastian’s mind…

“Well, I hope you find companionship that fulfils you, Sebastian,” she said, finishing the remainder of her drink and getting up. He looked at her with surprise and a hint of disappointment, and it broke her heart for one brief second — had he expected her to feel validated by his description of his ideal woman? “I believe I should go home, it is rather late. But thank you for everything you’ve shown me today, truly.”

Sebastian rose to his feet and came to her side again, taking her gloved hand in his one last time. He wanted to beat himself up over it — he’d ended it too soon, he’d said too much, and now he had scared her off. Just like any other woman he met, outside of a few mad witches, she recoiled from him as soon as he offered even a glimpse of his real interests. It had been that way ever since he was at Hogwarts, and it only got worse over the years. It didn’t help that the only consolation he found, he found in his work.

And what a pity, because she really seemed to understand his feelings for a moment, and earlier that day at the museum, she had been the perfect student — no, the perfect partner. But…

“I think you're right,” he smiled gently. “I’ve kept you long enough, considering I promised this would just be a little field research. Nevertheless, thank you for listening,” he said, kissing her hand lightly, “and for... well, for everything else, too. You'll find your way back?”

“Oh yes, I see they have a fireplace here, I’m sure they’ll allow me to use their Floo powder. And you?”

“I’m well accustomed to making my way home from the unlikeliest places.”

“I believe that,” she grinned.

They walked slowly to the end of the room, neither daring to touch the other anymore. Sebastian was lost to his own thoughts again, while she looked tired but determined.

“And I shall keep an eye out for anything coming out of the Aeolian Islands,” he said as an afterthought. “Likewise, do let me know if you hear back from your brother. After spending time with you today, I feel as if I know him myself.”

“I would be very grateful. Thank you.”

He had told her only some of the things he thought, and practically nothing of the things he’d actually done, and already she grew distant toward him… This development disappointed him more than he wanted to admit. Serves you right, he thought to himself. Never learned to keep your mouth shut, Seb...

She parted from him with a polite smile, her tight silhouette softened by the glow of the fireplace. Sebastian stood at attention gripping his cane as they wished each other a good evening, and he watched her vanish in the green flames.

#Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;danger and delight

55 notes · View notes

ladyvesuvia · 2 years

Text

⬶ navigation | main masterlist | hp masterlist

✿ — angst ; ❂ — fluff; ★ — popular; ☆ — personal fave

HEADCANONS + OTHER

—

ONESHOTS / SPLIT PART FICS

[try] ✿ - A loveless arranged marriage between two people who had not bothered to try to make it work in the first place.

[nuggets with gravy] ❂★ - Draco takes the reader out for a drive-thru in a Muggle fast food, but they did not prepare the reader’s order properly.

[bluer than blue] ✿ - Let them dirty my name, because I know how much you love yours.

[good 4 me] ❂✿ - A wedding card from a certain someone takes him back to when he was so sure he’d be the bride’s groom.

[no longer] ✿ - Moving on from Draco.

[you don’t know me] ✿❂☆ - Their love has a deadline, it just isn’t clear to both parties that it isn’t forever when the Potions Professor courts the Charms Professor, unbeknownst to him that she’s determined to be somewhere else.

[you think so?] ❂★ - The reader wakes up to Draco talking about her to his friends in that way.

[creepin’ cabin] ❂ - Halloween’s a thrill as Hogwarts introduces the Tri-Wizard Tournament and throws a horror house in to the mix instead of just a feast.

[music lunchbox thingy] ❂ - When the plan to throw a mini party in an effort to make friends with people of her own house goes awry, the least she expected to turn up happens to be the only guest she would have.

[bewizarding] ❂ - Studying for the O.W.L.s with Draco takes an unexpected turn.

[ceasefire] ❂☆ - How they went from each other’s bane of existence to idiots who couldn’t see what they mean to each other resorting to teasing back and forth long after putting an end to constant jinxing and hexing.

[all things sweet] ❂ - Young love and candy — the perfect combination to all things sweet.

#ves.masterlist #ves.writes #ves.writes draco malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x reader angst #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy headcanons

386 notes · View notes

ghostwritermia · 23 days

Text

Chapter One, masterlist, Navigation

Safe. That’s how a home should feel. However, 12 Grimmauld Place, was anything but. That’s why, as many students were hesitant to leave home to go back to Hogwarts, the Black siblings were beyond relieved.

They were finally getting to leave their cruel parents, and jump back into the warm embraces of their friends. Well, at least Sirius would. You wouldn’t be able to say the same for the twins. Lyra and Regulus had always been more reserved. Sure they had friends, but that didn’t mean that they ever opened up to them.

Lyra ran her brush through her hair one final time before tossing it into her crossbody, where she put her few stray items that needed to be left out for that morning. She quickly snapped it shut, and brushed down her skirt, making sure all her articles of clothing were in place before walking across the hall to Regulus’s room.

The young witch knocked twice before entering to find Regulus sliding into his coat. His gaze snapped to hers, his eyes instantly gaining a small amount of light. The most that could be had in this house without being reprimanded for it.

“Good Morning, Lyra Carina.” Regulus spoke softly, greeting his twin.

The corner of her lip upturned, not allowing anymore of a smile than that, knowing better than to. “Good Morning, Regulus Articulus.”

It had been their greetings for each other for as long as they could remember. Never only their first names, never only the middle names. Always the first and middle.

“Allons à la maison?” Lyra quietly asked Regulus. She had always been the most soft-spoken of the trio of siblings. Regulus was quiet, but knew how and when to raise his voice, and Sirius was always just loud.

“S'il te plaît,” Regulus responds back instantly.

Together, the twins looped their arms together, and walked down the hall a few doors, and without knocking, walked into their older, by only eleven months, brother’s room. “Time to get up Sirius,” The younger boy walked over, and pulled the cover off of the eldest.

He yelped in surprise when the chill of their cold home bit against his arms and legs.

Taking a different route, Lyra walked over to the boy’s armoire, pulling it open and selecting a black long sleeve button up, black dress pants and his customized coat. Each sibling had one. All knee length, black, with silver threading, and stitched into the collar laid their initials. The two boys had on similar attires, except regulus wore a green shirt in contrast to his brother’s black. Lyra however, wore a silk long sleeved shirt, black skirt, black gloves, and her coat. And the thing each sibling despised the most? The shoes. Black dress shoes for the boys, and black heels for Lyra. Not a single article of their as they referred to it, “uniform”, and not a single hair out of place, or they would not be leaving the house without punishment.

Finishing off her task Lyra laid out her older brother’s shoes, before gently pulling him up out of bed. “Come on, are you not ready to leave here and get back to your merry band of marauders?” She asked in a mocking tone, which had him leaping from his bed and shoving his two younger siblings out.

The twins waited outside Sirius’s room for about five minutes before he came hopping out of it, while pulling his shoes on. The two sighed, before turning and heading down the stairs, mentally preparing themselves to face their parents.

Lyra and Regulus hit the bottom step, immediately met by their mother’s sharp gaze. “You two, look acceptable,” She hisses and waves her hand, motioning them off. “Sirius,” She greets sharply. “As good as it will get,” Walburga grits out.

The siblings let out a silent, collective sigh of relief. “Let’s go.” She demands. Their father meets the rest of the family by the door. Walburga grabs hold of the twins, and Orion tightly grips Sirius’s arm as they all apparate to the train station.

The family, of course, arrives earlier than everyone else, “At Hogwarts, the three of you are representing The Noble and most Ancient House of Black. Do not, let us down,” Orion hissed out. And without any more parting words, the parents apparate back home, leaving their three children in the silence of the empty platform.

As soon as they realize that they’re alone, Sirius pulls his two siblings into a hug, not having gotten two since the end of last school year, before they got off the train to go home.

As Lyra melts into the embrace, Regulus tenses for a moment before squeezing his brother and sister back with equal strength to Sirius. “I know that we’re in different houses, but promise we won’t cut off all communication?” Sirius mumbles as they part from the hug.

“Sirius, mother and father have spies everywhere. We’re not supposed to communicate at school.” Regulus replies, venom lacing his tone towards their parents.

Sirius scoffed. “Screw the old bats, they can’t control us.”

“No, Sirius, they can’t control you,” Lyra softly slips into the conversation.

Sirius looked down to his younger sibling with a mixture of anger and sympathy swirling in his gaze. “Screw the old bats,” he said again. “We can at least meet in discretion. Make sure no one sees us, and no one follows us.” he reasons.

Lyra and Regulus lock gazes, having a silent conversation in a way that Sirius would never understand. They both nod after a moment. “Okay,” Lyra agrees. “We can do that.”

Sirius lets out a sigh of relief at that and then looks down to his watch, seeing that it was almost time for more people to start showing up. He exaggeratedly salutes the twins before gliding down a ways on the platform and leans against a pillar, for they siblings got sorted into different houses and are not supposed to interact on school grounds or in the public eye of classmates.

#the marauders x reader #the marauders #james potter fluff #james potter #lyra black #james potter x oc #moonwater #the noble and most ancient house of black #sirius black #sirius black fluff #remus and regulus #remus lupin #sirius and regulus #hogwarts

11 notes · View notes

xreaderbooks · 1 year

Text

The Shadows of Our Love

Chapter 1 | In the Shadows of Return

Sebastian Sallow x Slytherin! reader

Summary: Y/n L/n is back at Hogwarts for her fifth year, left with an insurmountable amount of guilt, trauma, and ancient magic that she has lost control of over the summer; she must learn how to overcome her internal battle while also fighting a new one this year. With talk of a high society group called Death Eaters; Y/n must once again find the strength to fight for the wizarding world and confront her love for Sebastian Sallow.

Warnings: language, mentions of death, and trauma

Word Count: 2.2k

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

a/n: If anyone would like to be tagged send me a message or leave a comment, I'd also love to read your thoughts so any messages or comments are welcome

Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 2

Taking the train to Hogwarts was a surreal experience for you considering how you got there in your fifth year. You were able to take in the view that all your friends raved about- the mountains, the lakes, the trees. You sat with Garreth Weasley and his group of Gryffindor friends which earned you odd stares from Imelda Smelding and her friends.

You spent your entire summer with Garreth and his family, his aunt, Professor Weasley was kind enough to take you in for the summer and your friendship with Garreth had grown in the time you spent with him. You weren’t about to ditch him because of the silly house rivalries between Slytherin and Gryffindor when he asked if you wanted to sit with him on the train. He was goofy and immature yet he could be sweet and caring in the most uncommon of ways that you didn’t mind his company.

In fact, his spirit helped lift up yours on the days when the exhaustion of sleepless nights due to nightmares and insomnia would get to you. You were the Hero of Hogwarts and it came at a cost. Post-traumatic stress had gotten to you more often than not and you had no one to share it with. Your mentor who had been there from the beginning, Professor Fig, is dead.

His death haunted you still, nobody would understand the price of your ancient magic, you felt it burn within you now. Your emotions being a trigger for a blast of your power, throughout the summer you learned to control it, Garreth had even concocted a potion (that to your surprise worked successfully) to dull your power.

“You would have loved the boat ride to Hogwarts, Y/n/n,” Garreth brought you out of your thoughts.

“So I keep hearing,” You gave him a small smile.

“Only because it’s literally the most magical experience you’ll have at Hogwarts.”

You lifted a brow at him, “One would think the most magical experience I'd have at Hogwarts would be the actual magic.”

His laugh echoed through his friends who didn’t seem to mind your presence in their compartment. Leander Prewitt, who flirted shamelessly with you despite the fact that you bested him at whatever task he challenges you to.

Nellie Ogspire who is actually a mutual friend, dueled against you in crossed wands and informed you of the Daedalian Keys that fly around school opening cabinets that contained tokens that opened your house chest.

“You know what else is a magical experience-” Leander spoke.

Nellie stopped him before he could continue to say something atrocious, “Absolutely not. Nobody wants to know, we have plenty of better magical experiences, Prewitt.”

Leander crossed his arm and slumped into his seat, “Whatever.”

You smiled to yourself as you gazed out the window, recognizing all the places you’ve traveled and longing for all the ones you haven’t yet. You’ve been all across this side of the wizarding world, visiting hamlets, helping the helpless, saving defenseless animals, and raiding camps of loyalists and Ashwinders. Some on your own and others with your friends who you couldn’t wait to see.

Natsai- Nattys mom insisted they travel to Hogwarts together, their own way, she told you in the last letter she wrote to you right before summer ended.

You couldn’t find Poppy at the platform, You and Imelda were more respectful competitive housemates/acquaintances than friends who would sit in the same compartment, and you weren’t sure if Ominis would want to sit with you.

As far as you knew, you left off as friends, he sent you cordial letters over the summer, twice maybe three times a month just filling each other in so that you’re not complete strangers. It was a safer bet to stick with Garreth.

One person you secretly hoped you would see at the train station was Sebastian.

Sebastian Sallow.

The boy who was never up to any good, who taught you forbidden spells, who would go to the ends of the earth to save the people he loves. The boy who made your heart race faster than the fluttering wings of a fairy. Your year at Hogwarts was adventurous with all that you were up to on your own, but doing it with him- you felt like you could be with him for the rest of your life and never get bored.

He sent you one singular letter at the beginning of the summer, and that was only because you had sent him one first.

Dear Y/n,

Hope all is well, I was glad to receive word from you after your final battle with Ranrok. You are a hero as I always knew you were. I’m pleased to have contributed in whatever small part I might have played to your success.

To answer your question, I am as decent as I can be considering all that has passed. I have not received word from Anne since the incident, I can only hope she will reach out to me in the coming months. For now, due to your mercy, I shall pick up the remaining pieces here in Feldcroft.

Gratefully yours,

Sebastian Sallow

—

The Great Hall was bustling with students both new and returning. It was almost impossible to hear a person talking directly to you with how loud everyone's conversations were, it was a bit overstimulating, and luckily your mind was too preoccupied with searching for the familiar faces of your friends.

You withstood stares of awe and whispers as you passed, people didn’t shy away from pointing at you. It didn’t help your nerves but you had gotten accustomed to it from being the new girl going into Hogwarts fifth year.

“Natty!” You waved to your friend who was nodding along with what her mother was telling her. She made haste, when she was able to escape her mother's grasp, to where you stood by the fireplace next to the Slytherin table.

She gave you a wide smile, “Y/n, it is good to see you, my friend.”

“It is amazing to see you!” You let out a breath of relief, you felt as if you could finally relax. You held onto both of her hands as you said “Your mother is never separating us again.”

She laughed, “You speak too soon. I foresee many letters exchanged in our future.”

“Shh- don’t say that, it may come true,” You scold her playfully.

The sound of a utensil clinging against a golden chalice told you both that it was time for everyone to settle down.

“We’ll see each other in class,” You say giving her shoulder one last squeeze as you give her a hug.

You rush to the nearest empty spot, a fourth-year girl and another empty spot to your right. You settle down with your anxiety still on high, you noticed the familiar blonde hair and full grey eyes sitting across from you.

“Ominis, Hello.”

“Y/n?” His tone was confused.

“Oh, so it’s great to see you!” You mentally slapped yourself for the poor choice of words.

He speaks dryly, “I can feel your energy from here L/n, it would be best if you calm your enthusiasm, though I must admit it is nice to hear your voice.”

“My voice?” A deep resounding tune filled your ears, in the three months without him you can hear how much he’s grown. “How flattering Gaunt, I can’t say it is unexpected-”

He plants himself in the seat to your right and your heart stutters.

Your head slowly turns in his direction, and your eyes slightly widen. He glances at you once and does a double-take.

“Y/n?”

“Hello Sebastian,” You swallow your feelings at seeing him now. His features have matured, no longer baby-faced. His cheeks have defined, his jaw sharper, hazel eyes lighter, hair grown in an attractive way you didn’t know how to describe. He definitely grew taller, shoulders broadened.

You didn’t know how to react to his looks now, you had always found him attractive, from the moment you met him; his way with words, his charisma, had you in the palm of his hand. You couldn’t look at him now with that one glance, you were sure to melt.

There was no time for any other words to be exchanged as Professor Black began his introduction ceremony, sorting the first years, and beginning the feast.

The food appeared and you filled your plate, ignoring the very apparent presence next to you. He appeared to be doing the same. Ominis spoke to him and he would respond, he would converse with you, but you and Sebastian never asked each other a single question in the full-hour talk with Ominis.

“You never described how it was to live with Weasley, Y/n,” Ominis tilted his head at you.

Sebastian's fork stabbed his chicken a little too hard, it scraped the plate, making a short screech.

You side-eyed his plate and refocused on the question the girl who sat diagonal to you on Ominis’ left asked. Imelda had a quirk on her brow, and a smirk on her lips, she questioned you loud enough for the other fellow Slytherins to hear.

“Fraternizing with the enemy,” She tsked. “Didn’t take Slytherins own hero as a traitor.”

“Didn’t know the rivalry extended to after school,” You looked unbothered. “Summer with the Weasleys was fun, you should try it sometime Imelda. You know, having fun? It could loosen the broomstick up your ass.”

You took a bite of your food, and the brunette beside you coughed up a lung, even Ominis hid his chuckle behind a fist as the girl you had insulted was red-faced and sitting next to him. Imelda's friend let out their own giggles or show of amusement while Imelda glared at them.

The rest of the feast had calmed down after you had shut her down, you had survived. Sebastian wasted no time getting out of his seat, saying his ‘I’ll see you later’ to Ominis and exiting the Great Hall as it was official the feast was over.

You decided to stay behind and chat with Ominis instead of following his lead and leaving once you were finished with your food.

“Have you spoken with him?” Ominis asked you, keeping pace as he walked with you to the Slytherin common room.

“I sent him one letter at the beginning of the summer, he responded and that was that.”

“Hm, odd.”

“How odd?”

You climbed the steps in the grand pillar where all the portraits were placed.

“Just odd,” Ominis said simply. “He was very fond of you last year, It wasn’t presumed that he would discard your friendship with how much he valued you last year.”

Discard me? You thought.

“I didn’t think he discarded our friendship Ominis, I believe he just needed some space.”

“Forgive me, Y/n, I didn’t mean it like that-”

You cut him off, “No, no. I know how it seems and eventually he and I will have to discuss all that happened last year, tonight just isn’t the night.”

You and Ominis along with your other fellow Slytherins, shuffled into the common room, settling into the dorms. You opened the door to find three other girls in the room already, all of whom you were familiar with in some way.

Violet McDowell, you had her in Potions and Herbology last year, Grace Pinch-Smedley who you had helped retrieve her family’s astrolabe from the black lake, and Imelda, who huffed and continued her unpacking. It was clear she was still upset, you smiled at the other two girls.

Violet gave you a nod, she was always a quiet one and Grace greeted you with a bright smile of her own.

—

2 hours into lights out and you were still tossing and turning, your eyes would not shut no matter what you did, and you had half a mind to sneak into Professor Sharps' closet and steal a sleeping draught. You sighed and shoved the covers away, sliding on your slippers and going down the steps to the common room.

You wrapped the string to tie your robe together in case there were people still up.

Surprisingly it was empty, not a single soul in sight. The fire crackling was the only sound to be heard. Memories of the past flashed through your mind.

A year ago today was the first day at Hogwarts, already full of adventure, watching a person you just met get killed by a dragon. The thestrals appeared after being invisible the whole time and you already knew. Going into Gringotts, fighting off statues, learning you have traces of ancient magic in your blood, and surviving the attack from Ranrok by an inch.

Yet, the thought of going into the common room the morning after and facing your fellow students who had been studying at Hogwarts since they were 11, was more frightening. You had already come into the school being the first person who had been accepted into Hogwarts as a fifth year, having to catch up with people who had the knowledge you were just learning, then coming into the first-year sorting ceremony late because of the dragon incident that everyone somehow knew about.

This school year was sure to be interesting, you thought to yourself.

The first person you saw was Sebastian, pacing in front of the fireplace with a book in hand. He introduced himself kindly, his dimpled smile had your heart before you knew it.

And it was gone just like that.

~~~

Chapter 2

taglist:

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #imelda smelding #harry potter imagine #harry potter

147 notes · View notes