#yes i added aurore i can do what i want | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-intheundercroft · 2 months

Text

Wreck My Plans - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 8,734

Rating: E (Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Pregnancy, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: You try to share some life-changing news with Sebastian, but it seems he has other plans. Specifically, recruiting you to join one of his missions.

A/N: Auror Seb is back! I've been writing this one in the background for a while. Who was going to warn me that writing action sequences was hard??? Next one for auror Seb is a prologue to the series :)

“You’re sure?” You ask, swallowing thickly as you process the information your fellow healer has just told you.

“Very.” She smiles broadly. “By the looks of it, ten weeks or so. You never noticed any of the symptoms until now?”

Your hand flies down to pet your stomach, and the tiny bump that now seems obvious. How could you have not known?

“I figured I was just hungrier,” you admit. “Tired from the transition to the day shift, adjusting back to the time zone after traveling.”

“Yes, well no more international travel for you.” the healer advises. “Not until the baby is born. I daresay, you might not be traveling for quite some time, especially with a young babe in hand. How’s that house in Marunweem coming along?”

You’ve been bragging about your fixer upper for months now; Sebastian has really made a dent in the work, adding another bedroom and fixing up a porch on the backside of the house. During the week, Sebastian is poised and collected, proving time and time again to his superiors just why he deserved the promotion to senior auror. On the weekends, he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt unbuttoned as he hammers away at the wooden planks.

More often than not, you’re ripping his shirt off for him, or situated below him on your knees. He works so incredibly hard for the two of you and the life he wants to give you; it's hard to keep your hands to yourself.

You start piecing together the timeline, what you’d been doing all this time; when you remember where you were at, you blush at the thought. Ten weeks ago, you and Sebastian were in Sicily, enjoying your first real holiday as a couple. He spared no expense, renting a palazzo from an Italian wizard he’d met through a contact in the department of international magic affairs. You’d spent three glorious weeks by the sea, eating fresh seafood and exploring every inch of Sebastian’s body at night.

“Sebastian!” You swatted at him.

He grinned at you, his fingers plunged inside of you. It was positively deranged the way he began fucking you with his hand, the seed he’d just spilt inside of you pushed further in.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly. “You did agree to have my baby a few months ago, if I recall correctly…”

Sebastian’s swollen lips descended upon yours, hungrily kissing you. To your surprise, his thick length started to swell again, clearly aroused by your whimpering and the wet sound of his spend being manipulated, pushed even closer to its goal.

“You’re incorrigible,” You laugh against his lips as he situated himself between your legs again. The room was dimly lit, only deeply burnt candles illuminating the room you’d called home for the past few days.

“What can I say?” Sebastian whispered, teeth grazing your chin. “I’m insatiable for my fiancee.”

You took in a sharp breath when you felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against your heat again. “That’s the third time tonight,” you gasped as he slid into you with ease. Your body knew who it belonged to–Sebastian was no intrusion. Your head tilted back against the pillows, moaning as Sebastian laved his tongue up and down your sweaty throat.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian grunted, slowly rolling his hips against you. “Three–fucking–weeks–ungh, all I want to do is have you in bed, naked, for three whole weeks uninterrupted.”

You clutch onto him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as you flutter around him again.

“Ma’am, are you listening?”

You blink out of your daydream, looking back up at your healer.

“What did you ask?”

“I asked if you’ve been doing any strenuous activity lately.” The healer asks.

You turn bright red, brushing the back of your neck with your hand. You’ve been bedding Sebastian nearly every night, at least when the two of you aren’t exhausted from work or feeling ill. Neither of you ever minded to track your courses, considering they’d been tricky after years of an off-kilter schedule at St. Mungo's.

“I’ll take it easy,” you assure the healer, who doesn’t seem all that convinced. She lets you off with a blood renewing potion and some vitamins, and you leave St. Mungo's in a daze.

Your first instinct is to run straight to the ministry, barreling into Sebastian’s office with the news. But on second thought, it’s probably news best saved for home–you’d rather not have the most important news of your life shared in front of his colleagues. Instead, you make your way to Diagon Alley to pick up supplies for dinner, stopping by the owl post office to send a note to Poppy. You haven’t heard from her in a little while, but you know she’ll be over the moon when she reads the news.

All is well in your life, you think. You’ll have to move the wedding up–Ominis and Anne have been insistent you wait until the next spring, once the frost has thawed and you can have a May wedding. You’d really rather not host your newborn at your wedding, so late autumn will have to do. Perhaps you can sneak away to Feldcroft for the weekend with a few friends in tow, take an unbreakable vow in the center of the hamlet–

“I’m home,” You hear a voice call out.

Dropping the ladle, you wipe your hands on your skirts as you rush to greet Sebastian at the fireplace. Skidding into the living room, your smile falters when you see the gruff expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Sebastian shakes his head, hanging his coat on the rack next to the fireplace. “Long day,” he mumbles, sliding past you to go straight into the bedroom. You feel a bit deflated–Sebastian is rarely one to avoid your touch, but tonight is different. You hear the bathroom door slam, the faucets turning as he fills the bath. From what you can remember, Sebastian is only ever this grizzly after a bad day at work. Either bad news on a case, a perpetrator that’s gotten away, or the most dire, losing a colleague.

You tiptoe up to the bathroom, rapping your knuckles against the wooden door.

“Come in,” Sebastian sighs.

You slip past the door, kneeling next to the clawfoot tub. Sebastian is submerged in steaming water, bubbles dissipating in the water. Work has been particularly stressful–he’s gone a few days without shaving, dark stubble coating his chin.

“What’s wrong?” you ask gently.

Sebastian lolls his head back against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling. “We’ve got a real pain of a case on our hands.” he mutters, tilting his head to look at you. It’s an unspoken question, one that doesn’t need asking–he should know by now that nothing he ever shares about his cases ever leaves the four walls of your home.

“International dragon breeding ring.” He states, the water splashing as he pulls up his knees under the water. “Seems like they were trying to raise some Hebridean Blacks in the highlands. Clearly didn’t know how to handle their dragons, so the crew was burnt to a crisp by the time we got there.”

“That’s horrible,” you shake your head.

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “I never, ever want to see bodies like that ever again.” he gags. “The worst part is now that they’re all toast, we’ve lost our only lead to the larger gang.”

“I’m sorry.” you pout, stroking his hair.

Sebastian sighs. “It’s okay. I’m just quite tired for the day; I had a sausage roll on my way home from the office, I think I’ll just tuck in to bed early tonight.”

He notices you visibly shrink, knitting his thick eyebrows together. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“I made dinner.” you say sheepishly. “Your favorite.”

Sebastian gives you a wry look. “I’m sorry, love. Rain check? I really do just want to get in bed.”

Sebastian can’t see the way your hand hovers over your abdomen under the lip of the tub. And while you’re desperate to share the news, you’d rather do so when he’s in a better mood. The last thing you want is the happy memory of your pregnancy announcement being marred by troubles at work.

“It’s fine, really.” you assure him. “I’ll pack it all up so you can take it to lunch tomorrow, bring a bit for the boys.”

Sebastian snorts, beads of water dripping from his arms as he lifts them out of the water. “I’m sure Everett and Andrew will love that. Those two rarely ever see a home cooked meal.”

“I’m not sure what those boys would do without me.” you say sarcastically. “Ominis was right–I have to stop feeding them so often; they’re coming back week by week like stray cats.”

“Oh please, you love babying the two of them.” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

The word has your smile faltering, and Sebastian tilts his head, giving you a sympathetic look.

“It will happen, you know.” he puts a hand under your chin, tilting it up towards you. “I know it’s upsetting that it’s taken this long, but it’ll all work out in time.”

“Oh, that’s not–”

“Perhaps we should wait until after the wedding,” Sebastian suggests. “I mean, that’s surely the more proper thing to do. Plan it out, do it the right order.”

You turn bright red, swallowing thickly; Sebastian really has no clue. “We’ve never been proper, the two of us.”

Sebastian lets out a low chuckle, eyes darting down to your lips. “No, I don’t think we have.” The pad of his thumb traces over your lips, slipping between them.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian breathes. “I finish washing up, and I meet you in the bedroom for a cuddle.”

“Something tells me we’re not going to be cuddling.” You raise an eyebrow, eyes darting down to Sebastian’s free hand, which has slipped underneath the water and between his legs.

“No, we’re not.” Sebastian says, voice low and needy. Your eyes flit down to the surface of the water, rippling with every stroke of his hand. “Get in the bed, now.”

You smile, biting down on your lip as you do what he says. After all, it won’t be long before two becomes three, so you want to relish these nights for as long as you can.

You wake up when Sebastian presses his lips against yours. He’s never been very good at kissing softly–almost always, your fiance kisses you with enough fervor to wake you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, nosing your cheek. “I wanted to kiss you before I left. Got a message that I need to be in the office earlier than usual–all hands on deck.”

You open your eyes, blinking up at him. He’s fully dressed in his suit, auror badge pinned to his coat pocket. His work bag is at his feet, last night’s carefully wrapped leftovers next to it. From the window behind him, you can see the sky is still black, a smattering of stars filling the sky. It has to be four, maybe five o’clock in the morning.

“Send Everett and Andrew my love,” you yawn. “Tell them to enjoy the short rib.”

Sebastian snorts, mouth descending upon yours once more. “I’m starting to think you like them more than me,” he teases, nipping your lower lip with his teeth. “Have a good shift today. I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You don’t follow Sebastian to the fireplace, instead electing to fall back into your bed for a few more hours of sleep before your shift at St. Mungo's. You’ll tell him tonight, you think, putting together the plan while you dress for the day. Perhaps roast chicken and potatoes for dinner, and a cake with the good news on it. You’re buzzing, eager to execute your plan once you’ve gotten home. So much so, you completely miss the owl sitting in the window, clucking at you while you hum over your cooking.

It’s only when the owl threatens to bite you that you pick up the note, deflating the minute you see the DMLE logo.

Urgent case. All hands on deck–we’ve been ordered to stay in the office until further notice; might be traveling internationally too. I’ll send an owl when I know more.

xx Sebastian

You shrug off your worries; this isn’t exactly unexpected. Given the high risk of Sebastian’s job, he’s often sequestered to the office or traveling for a case, sometimes days at a time. Perhaps the waiting will make your reveal all the more special. You can picture Sebastian falling to the ground in front of the fireplace once you tell him after much time away from home.

After two days, you’re worried. Come five, you’re irritated. Ten days later, you’re thoroughly mad that this case has wrecked your plans.

It takes nearly all your willpower not to break down the doors of the auror office. On the bright side, Sebastian knows well enough to reassure you of his good health via owl post. Per usual, he can’t say much, except that there had been a considerable development in their dragon breeding ring case. He’s been bunking up with Everett and Andrew in the office (the two bachelors also sending thank you cards for the feast you’d cooked) and he’s quite miserable without your company.

Sebastian’s owl post gives you some peace over the miserable days, especially considering the onset of your morning sickness. It seems that since your brain has accepted the concept of being pregnant, your body has decided to follow suit. You’re lucky that there are plenty of other mothers working at St. Mungo’s beside you, each of them offering a sympathetic smile or a packet of crackers once you've emerged from the bathroom.

You’re just returning from a trip to the porcelain throne, wiping the corner of your mouth, only to hear your name once you pass the ward matron desk.

“Oi, ministry man is looking for you,” one of your fellow healers says, jerking their thumb back towards the ward matron’s desk.

You whip your head around to see a sharply dressed man standing at the desk, seemingly annoying your ward matron. He’s older and gray; there’s something familiar about his face.

It clicks–he’s Sebastian’s superior officer.

The blood drains from your face as you walk towards him, hands clenched in fists. “Can I help you?”

He says your name, bowing his head slightly. “Augustus Green, we’ve met before. You’re Sallow’s fiancee, aren’t you?”

“Is he alright?” you ask, panicking. You instinctively press a hand to your stomach.

“Oh goodness, I should’ve started with that,” he admits sheepishly. “Sallow is fine, no cause for alarm. I’m here to summon you for an appearance at the office.”

“Summon? Me?” you gape up at him.

“All the information is here,” Green says impatiently, handing you a manilla folder. “And a letter for your matron to excuse you from your duties.”

It’s all a blur from there, the ward matron clicking her tongue disapprovingly when you hand over the letter. With that task out of the way, Officer Green starts herding you to the closest floo flame. It feels as if he’s got you by the back of your robe, pulling you into the green fire. You grip the manilla folder tighter, swallowing down the vomit in your throat. Floo travel is safe while pregnant, but certainly not comfortable.

When your eyes open, you’re standing in an unfamiliar office. You know where you are though–the ministry, the DMLE office specifically. The furnishings match Sebastian’s office, except this one is clearly larger. There’s a woman organizing files in the corner, quickly standing to greet Officer Green on his return.

“Marlene, put a kettle on, why don’t you?” Green huffs, walking over to his chair. “And summon the task force team. Meeting in my office.”

You cross your arms over your chest–it’s Marlene of all people, one of Sebastian’s former flings. She gives you a phony smile, eyes flitting down to the diamond ring on your left hand.

Well, you suppose the crestfallen look on her face makes the trip to the ministry worthwhile.

As Marlene passes through the doorway, a group of aurors makes their way inside. A few unfamiliar faces, but then three of your favorites–Andrew Larson, Everett Clopton, and Sebastian. Sebastian is giving you a proud grin, chest puffed out. You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and his once sparse beard is now growing thick. It takes all of your self control to not throw yourself into his arms, relieved to see that your fiance is still well after being away for so long.

The aurors line up against the wall, awaiting instructions.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve asked you here,” Green states, folding his hands on his desk. “We’re assembling a task force team to work on a sensitive case. We normally wouldn’t operate on foreign soil, but considering the abductee is a British citizen–”

“Pardon, abductee?” You interrupt.

“Yes, details will be in your briefing.” Officer Green states, pointing down to the folder in your hands. “Our officers have spent the last few months tracking the smaller units of an international dragon breeding ring. They’ve gotten sloppy since we’ve started apprehending their top breeders, and have since retreated to their home base in Norway. A British citizen has been abducted by the ring leaders of the operation, likely due to her expansive knowledge on Norwegian Ridgebacks. Miss Sweeting is a well known magizoologist–”

Your throat goes dry, and for the first time in days, your stomach is churning from anxiety, not from morning sickness.

“Miss Sweeting was abducted from her home–sign of forced entry, her wand and personal effects were found littered throughout the property. Our auror department has uncovered evidence that leads us to believe the criminals are keeping her on hand with the dragons to provide guidance in their breeding efforts.”

Officer Green carries on. “The task force comprises several of our best aurors, some of which were classmates of Miss Sweeting and have a personal interest in her safety. You were recommended to join the task force by Officer Sallow,” Green continues. “Considering your relationship to Miss Sweeting, and experience with dragons in the past.”

You blink at the senior officer, mouth agape. “But I’m only a healer, sir.”

“A healer will be extraordinarily important for a mission like this,” Green points out. “With the imminent danger–”

“You saved half the department once,” Andrew Larson blurts. “Rather have you on our team if we’re facing dragons and dark wizards in one go.”

The room dissolves into nervous giggles as Green swats at Andrew. Sebastian, however, is completely unphased, smiling at you as if he’s signed you up for a field trip, not a mission across international lines to save one of your best friends. If Poppy wasn’t the one in danger, you probably would’ve wrung his neck by now.

“As I was saying before Mr. Larson so rudely interrupted,” Green rolled his eyes. “We need a healer on the task force. We will pay you for any days missed at your regular shift, and a bonus upon return. That, and all accommodations in Norway–”

“I’m sorry, Norway?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes, where we believe the perpetrators are keeping Miss Sweeting to assist in the breeding of their dragons.” Green interjects, tapping the briefing folder again. “We have a portkey scheduled to depart in an hour. Please review your folder beforehand.”

You hardly listen to the rest of the briefing. The rational side of your brain is screaming at you to tell the truth–you’re pregnant, the healers just said to limit international travel, and you hardly think you should be jumping into battle with a dragon breeding ring in your condition. Is portkey travel even safe during pregnancy?

Your thoughts scream at you as Green dismisses the room; before your brain even registers movement, your feet are scuffling towards Sebastian’s office. He’s standing at his desk, two large duffle bags side by side. You shut the door with trembling hands.

“I took the liberty of purchasing some things you’ll need,” he says cheerfully, digging through the bag. You hold out your arms as he pushes a pair of trousers and a shirt into them. “Some wool stockings and your base layers, it’ll be cold, that’s for sure…” he trails off.

“Sebastian,” you swallow thickly. “Sebastian, I–”

“I’m sorry if this is coming across as a surprise.” Sebastian shucks off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt. “That, and for being gone for so long. It was all hands on deck with the case; I’ve been bunking up in here with Larson and Clopton. You have no idea how badly I want to be home.” he groans, slipping a new undershirt on.

Your brain is frazzled. You want to be angry at him, to be worried, but your heart is thumping in your chest. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him, and you’ve been worried sick. Your body’s first instinct is to wrap your arms around him and inhale his familiar scent.

Sebastian laughs when you do so, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know, Pet. As soon as this is done and dusted and we’ve got Poppy home, things can go back to normal.” he murmurs against your hair.

You nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, inhaling his cedar cologne. “Are you sure this is safe? I'm not in dueling shape.” you admit sheepishly. In your youth, you would’ve charged into combat headfirst without warning–years of working in St. Mungo's has you untrained.

Sebastian laughs, his beard tickling your face. “Safe? You’re the best duelist I know–besides myself, of course. You’ll be fine. Besides, we mostly need you for healing purposes. That magic of yours works a trick on burns. Remember–”

“In the Undercroft, when you accidentally blew up a barrel of mead.” you snort at the memory. It hadn’t been funny then, watching Sebastian writhe on the floor from the burns. You’d fallen at his side, instinctively using your ancient magic to siphon the pain. He was healed in a matter of seconds, and it set you on the trajectory to become a healer.

“Precisely.” Sebastian licks his lips. “That, and to be with Poppy. I’m sorry, I wish I could have told you sooner, but we weren’t allowed to say.” He pulls a wand from his desk–Poppy’s wand, white ash wood with a swirling handle–and presses it into your hands. “You should hold on to it, for safekeeping. You can give it to her once we rescue her.”

You look up at his chocolate brown eyes, lids dotted with freckles. You want to tell him–you need to tell him–

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian pouts. “You’ve always said you wanted to come to work with me.”

You open your mouth, trying to find the words, but you can’t. You’ll be fine, you think. What’s one more trip? Besides, you’ll do anything to ensure Poppy is safe.

“I don’t like your beard.” you blurt.

Sebastian roars with laughter, rubbing his jawline. “I knew you’d hate it; Clopton and Larson were egging me on to grow it out. I don't have a razor here; I promise I’ll shave it when I get home. Now, come on, let’s get you dressed all warm and snug. We've got a portkey to catch.”

“I’m sorry–I thought I had your size memorized.” Sebastian mutters, helping you unlace your corset.

You wince, a low hiss coming out from your lips as you let the offending garment fall to the ground. Assessing your torso in the blurred mirror, you can see lines from the whalebone pins left in your skin. Your hand instinctively rubs over your stomach silently apologizing to the babe inside of you for being squished all afternoon.

“The portkey couldn’t just drop us off here, at the inn?” You complain, slipping one of Sebastian’s clean shirts over your head.

“We couldn’t draw attention to ourselves, you know that,” Sebastian tuts. “Besides, I thought you enjoyed hiking?”

“I enjoy hiking when it's planned.” you groan, falling back against the bed. “Almost thought I’d ask Andrew to cart me up the mountain.”

Sebastian starts unlacing your boots, letting the heavy shoes fall to the floor. Your woolen stockings are peeled off next, laid out next to the fireplace to stay warm. He carefully unlaces and works your trousers off your legs, draping them over a stool.

“I am sorry.” Sebastian says, climbing into bed next to you. Your muscles are sore, legs like jelly after the long trek. Knowing this, he pulls your legs into his lap, working his thumbs into your calves to massage them. “I thought it might be fun.”

You snort. “Fun? Sebastian, we’re on a mission to find Poppy, who's been taken hostage by dragon dealers. That hardly sounds like fun.” Your head falls back against the pillows, which have definitely seen better days.

“I know, but they were looking for a healer to join the force, and I knew you were the right person.” Sebastian reminds you, nimble fingers moving down to massage your sore feet. “Besides, it’s kind of fun to work together, isn’t it? Reminds me of the good old days.”

“Ah, yes, the good old days.” you parrot back to him. “Us, running like vigilantes around the highlands. Stealing bounty from old chests, blasting away at acromantulas.”

“What can I say? We were spirited teenagers.” Sebastian chuckles. His fingers slow, making deliberate circles in the arch of your foot. “I wanted us to have one more good adventure before we settled down, got married.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. “We won’t have adventures after we’re married? Thanks for the vote of confidence.” you jest.

“You know what I mean,” Sebastian shrugs. “After we’re married and we’ve got kids in the house, we’ll be boring old parents.” he wrinkles his nose. “Might as well bank up a few good stories for the children while we still can.”

Your smile falters. “Do you really think we’ll be that boring?”

“We’ll have to be, won’t we?” Sebastian sighs. “I’ll probably take some time off after the baby is born, of course. And when I’m back to work, I’ll ask to be reassigned to low risk cases. So, in the meantime, I’ll enjoy all the tough stuff while I still can.”

You should tell him. You really do need to tell him.

You don’t.

He sounds so glum, trading in a life of adventure and danger for nappies and lullabies. Perhaps his interest in fatherhood was just spurred by the renewal of your relationship. It makes sense that he’d start thinking more clearly now that it’s been nearly a year together. Merlin, maybe he’s already bored of the little life you’ve created together–the house on a hill, far from the bustling city. The logical side of your brain reminds you that Sebastian loves you, dotes on you, hand and foot (quite literally, the man is still massaging your feet). Yet the irrational side of your brain, likely flooded with pent-up hormonal energy, reminds you that he hasn’t been home in days .

“You still love me, right?” Gods, the words sound pathetic coming out of your mouth.

“Of course I do.” Sebastian’s eyes widen. “How could you think otherwise?”

“It’s nothing.” you say quickly, waving him off. “Just a stupid intrusive thought.”

Sebastian clicks his tongue, pushing your legs from his lap. You stay, perched on your elbows, watching him move in between your legs. With a mischievous smile, Sebastian picks up your foot, pressing a kiss to your ankle.

“Then it seems I’ll have to work extra hard to put those thoughts to bed,” Sebastian whispers lowly. His tongue laves circles up your calf, eyes trained on you while his mouth moves up, up, up your thigh.

“You colleagues are in the other room.” You croak.

“We have magic, don’t we?” Sebastian teases. “ Silencio should do the trick, unless I’ve made you forget basic spellcasting.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your throat.

It’s against your better judgment, but you reach over to the side table to grab your wand. Flicking it at the door, you mutter the silencing charm under your breath. The room suddenly feels like a bubble, no noise from the outside world permitted in, and vice versa.

“We can’t go crazy,” you whimper as Sebastian takes a deliberate lick, pressing a kiss to your center. A moan slips from your mouth, head crashing against the flat pillows. “We have to wake up– oh, yes, right there –ugh, Sebastian, we have to wake up early.”

Sebastian grins, teeth grazing your skin lightly as he presses a languid kiss to the crease of your thigh. “I won’t keep you awake too long.” he promises, before diving back between your legs.

Sebastian knows you–almost a little too well, you think. Somehow he knows the sex you need is tender and soft, his hips rocking into yours while he whispers how much he missed you, how he longs to come home to your bed. His hand ghosts over your abdomen, but you quickly pull it up to your lips, pressing soft kisses to his worn knuckles. When he comes, face buried in your neck, he can't stop telling you how much he loves you. It isn't long before Sebastian drifts to sleep, lightly snoring against your skin with his arms wrapped around you. His beard tickles your shoulders, but you’ve missed him too much to push him away.

You flick your wrist at the candles, quickly extinguishing the fire. With only pale moonlight streaming in through threadbare curtains, you pull the blankets up to your neck, focusing on Sebastian’s steady breathing.

Steady. Unwavering (except the time that you broke up…well, he’s more than made up for that by now). Dependable, devoted. Sebastian is going to make the most amazing father. You shut your drooping eyelids, reassuring yourself that Sebastian will be excited when you finally get to share your news.

“I'm freezing.” you spit out, shivering from the cold air.

“We’ve been waiting for hours,” Everett complains, recasting an anti-fogging spell on his glasses. “Larson should’ve made contact by now.”

“We have to stick to the plan,” Sebastian bites back. “Larson was to make contact with the dealers, send a signal leading to his location. If he didn’t by sundown, we’d abandon the post and go back to the inn.”

While Sebastian had kept you busy the night prior, Andrew had gone undercover. Your sweet Ravenclaw friend is unassuming, and quite the actor it seems–he reported at breakfast to say the breeders had given him coordinates to a meeting point, where he’d be given the opportunity to purchase a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg. Poking at his poached egg, Andrew assured the group that he’d send a patronus signal for back up once he’d identified the location of the operation.

Waiting for Andrew’s signal is excruciating, the better half of the day spent sitting around a now nearly burnt out campfire. You were pacing back and forth in the snow, drumming your fingers against your throat. While you’re sure Andrew can hold his own (he has for years now, Sebastian tells you–a surprisingly astute duellist, much improved from his days in Crossed Wands) you hate the idea of your cheerful blond friend being alone.

Sebastian stands up, brushing snow from his pants. “It’ll be dark soon,” he muses. “We should start heading down to the inn soon.”

Your eyes widen. “And leave Andrew?”

“Andrew is an auror, Pet.” Sebastian reminds you. “One of our best. He’ll be just fine getting down the mountain on his own.”

“If he needed back up, he would’ve called by now.” Everett tries to assure you, wiping his fogged up glasses again. “Gosh, I hope we’re only here another day or so–I fear my chomping cabbages are dead by now, I’ve been away from home for too long.”

“We can’t possibly leave him,” you gasp, stomping your foot in the snow. “I won’t allow it.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to argue with you, but clamps it shut when the sky darkens.

“Take cover!” he roars, grabbing you and tackling you to the snow. You gasp, curling into him as he rolls you behind a collection of boulders. In seconds, Everett has joined you. His mouth is hanging open, staring up at the massive dark spot soaring above you.

“Sweet mother of Merlin,” Everett gasps. “Is that–”

“A Norwegian Ridgeback,” Sebastian grunts, tucking you in tighter to his chest. “A young one, based on the size, but still dangerous.”

Peeking over Sebastian’s shoulder, you can see a young dragon soaring overhead. You can see the cracked collar, chains hanging from its neck. The poor beast is clawing at the collar, a high pitched squeal coming from its mouth as it flaps its wings. When its jaw opens, you can see the flames curling up from the back of its throat. Sebastian backs into you, an arm curling around your waist to keep you shielded from the heat.

“Protego!” you hear a familiar voice scream.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Sebastian spits out. He peeks around the boulder, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as his jaw falls open. You stand to sneak a peek, equally shocked at the sight before you.

Andrew is running, bloodied with gashes in his clothes. His blond hair is matted down and you’re not sure if it’s from blood or melted snow. Wand extended, Andrew casts a shield charm to protect himself from the fire and waves of green curses. His arm is looped through a short brunette’s, her wrists bound in goblin-forged silver cuffs. It’s Poppy, who is yelling at Andrew to avoid hurting the young dragon. Several breeders are chasing after them, firing curse after curse on Andrew’s heels.

“A little help here!” Andrew roars, waving his arm the second he spots his colleagues.

The aurors break into action with little hesitation. Sebastian and Everett waste no time sprinting towards their partner. It feels like you’ve barely had a second to blink before the flashes of red and green start clashing around you. Sebastian jumps to avoid a well-aimed shot, rolling to the ground before firing a countercurse at his attacker. His hair is covered in powdery snow, cheeks red from the cold as he fires off a defensive spell set. You watch him, mouth agape, barely registering his voice calling out your name.

“Get Poppy out of here!” Sebastian hollers. “Both of you, before the dragon circles back!”

Right, you think, shaking out of your stupor. You run, feet slowed by the snow, towards your friend. She grabs your hands as soon as you reach her, staring at you in a panic.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Poppy shrieks.

Over her shoulder, you can see one of the breeders teeing up a spell. With ease, you raise a boulder from behind him to knock him down the hill. In doing so, you’ve drawn attention to yourself, the other breeders realizing that you’re a bigger threat than anticipated.

“Here for you,” you assure her. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Poppy panics. “I got your letter, the morning they broke into my flat–”

“That’s the least important thing right now,” you screech, firing off a countercurse; the rebound is so strong, both of you are nearly knocked off your feet.

“But the baby!” Poppy shouts. “This isn’t safe!”

“Now is hardly the time to be scolding me,” you argue, panting as you channel your ancient magic to disintegrate one of your attackers. “The baby will be fine, I’m more worried about you!”

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

Now you’ve really let the cat out of the bag, you think between spell combinations. You pause in place, braid whipping through the wind, to see Sebastian staring at you across the way. His eyes are as wide as saucers, blinking rapidly as his mouth opens and shuts.

“Congratulations, guys!” Everett yells sarcastically, glasses now fully fogged from the fighting. “Think we can discuss this another time?”

“You’re pregnant?” Sebastian shrieks.

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” you pant, dodging a curse, “but you’ve been gone, I only just found out the day before you left–”

“We have to get you out of here!” Sebastian panics, running towards you from across the field. “You’re pregnant! This is unsafe!”

“We don’t have time for this conversation!” You roar, casting confringo on the poachers drawing near.

“Careful with the heat, it’ll be bad for the baby!” Sebastian chides, but you roll your eyes.

“You got me into this mess, Sallow! Both messes, I might add.” You say through gritted teeth. It’s true–he’s the one who got you pregnant in the first place, and then volunteered you to join a covert mission. Honestly, you might find his rapid shift in attitude hilarious if you weren’t being rained down upon by flames and curses.

“We had sex, is that bad for the baby?” Sebastian asks. “For him? Or her? Oh Merlin, what if it’s a girl–”

“I’m sorry,” Everett raises a brow, sidestepping a diffindo that had been thrown his way. “The two of you were shagging last night when we were supposed to be preparing for a mission?”

“You two are disgusting!” Andrew spits, casting stupefy on his assailant.

“Can someone please figure out a way to get me out of these cuffs?” Poppy roars, shaking her still shackled wrists. “And does anyone have my wand by any chance?”

You curse under your breath, wiggling Poppy’s wand out of your too-tight breeches. She grasps her wand with both hands, wincing as you channel your ancient magic into snapping the metal. Her wrists are rubbed raw from spending weeks in chains, but she shakes them out as she reacquaints herself with her wand.

The sky goes dark again; the dragon circles in the air, flapping wings causing the entire battle to cease while everyone braces in the snow.

“You need to get out of here,” Sebastian hisses. “I’m begging you–”

“And leave you here, with this lot and the dragon? Absolutely not.” you snap. “The father of my child needs to see another day.”

“Hello!” Everett screams. “There’s still a fight going on here, if the two of you haven’t– ouch !”

Both of you turn your heads to see Everett laying in the snow, groaning. One of the breeders is stomping towards him, twirling his wand in hand. Nostrils flared, you push Sebastian aside and aim your wand. With barely even a flick, the man is thrown back against the snow, a disconcerting crack ringing through the air.

Not your boys , you think. You plan to see all of these aurors back to London, alive and without injury.

“Poppy,” you yell, firing basic casts at the approaching breeders. “Can you secure the dragon?”

“Working on it!” Poppy’s voice is muffled, her wand between her teeth. You can see her, your little firecracker of a friend, trying to scale the rocks to get closer to the dragon. As the country’s leading expert on dragons, you hope she’ll have the dragon under control before long. She’s babbling towards the beast, cooing reassuring words as it snorts steam.

“Bertie, calm down.” You hear Poppy cluck at the dragon, her hands held high. “It’ll be alright–”

Andrew, who has foregone his wand, punches one of the breeders squarely in the nose. Shaking his hand out, he turns back to Poppy. “Bertie? Bertie, who you were droning on about while I was trying to rescue you, is the damn dragon?” he yells. “The one who was trying to kill us just a bit earlier?”

“I was alone!” Poppy shrieks back. “You try being alone with just dragons for two weeks, you would start naming them too! And he was not trying to kill us, he’s just afraid–”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hollers. “Can you two behave?”

Sebastian is shouting at both Andrew and Poppy, and doesn’t see the breeder approaching from his left. His arm is raised, a knowing smirk on his phase as he brandishes his wand at your fiance. Sebastian is too preoccupied with scolding his subordinate to notice the flickering red tip of the breeder’s wand, teeing up what you can only imagine is the cruciatus curse.

You don’t have time to shriek. Instead, you feel your anger bubbling up through your fingertips, the telltale signs of your ancient magic starting to spill from your hands. You’re running, wand arm raised, about to attack when you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs. Your body betrays you, losing balance as you crumple to the snow with no control. There’s a sharp ache in your head, ears ringing as you try to make sense of what’s going on. As if life is stuck in slow motion, you see a sizable boulder plop into the snow next to you.

A fucking rock. You’ll be damned if you let a rock take you out.

Trying to stand, your knees buckle beneath you. The sharp ache in your head starts pounding, and you can’t stop blinking your bleary eyes. Fingers grazing your temple, you’re shocked at the slippery sensation on your fingertips. Droplets of bright red dot the pristine white snow, and despite your fuzzy vision, you can tell that it's your own blood on your hands.

“Oh, shit.” you slur.

It feels like you’re underwater (a sensation you know well from the Keeper’s trials during your fifth year). Things are slower, soupier almost. You can see Sebastian’s head turn when another auror shouts at him, and he narrowly misses a flurry of red bolts aimed at him from one of the attackers. Skidding in the snow, Sebastian fires a counter curse that knocks the breeder off the edge of the cliff.

Someone is shouting your name, and Sebastian turns his head. You think you’ll remember the look of horror on his face forever, a twisted grimace as he dashes towards you. You want to sit up, but your body says otherwise–your head is pounding, and perhaps it’ll feel better if you sleep. Sebastian is patting your cheeks with cold hands, repeating your name like a prayer as you hear the commotion ensue behind the two of you.

“Stay with me,” Sebastian pleads. “I’m sorry–”

You don’t hear anything after that.

When you open your eyes, you’re in St. Mungo’s. Specifically, the intensive care unit, your own ward.

“What the hell?” you mumble, leaning up on your elbows.

“Oh thank Merlin, you’re awake.” Sebastian sighs with relief. You turn to look at the brunette next to you–his head is in his hands, dark waves unkempt and tangled from sleep. His beard is the longest you’ve ever seen it, shaggy and uncombed. After taking in a deep breath, he launches himself to your bed, fingers pressed against your pulse. Once he’s determined that you are in fact well, he presses a firm kiss to your forehead.

“Is the–”

“The baby is alright,” Sebastian smiles. “Healers have been checking on you two probably twice an hour for the last two days.”

“Two days?” you gape. “I’ve been out for two days?”

“It was a nasty hit.” Sebastian shudders. “I was so worried about you, I haven’t been able to sleep,” he admits. The chair next to you has become his little nest; bundles of blankets are tossed on the floor, a hospital grade pillow squished into the back of the chair.

“What happened?” you wince as you sit up. Sebastian immediately places more pillows behind your back, handing you a cup of water from the night stand. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone is alright,” Sebastian assures you. “Everett broke his arm, but that was quick to mend. Andrew looked like a champion prizefighter, that’s for sure. I think he likes the black eye, he thinks it makes him a bit more popular amongst the ladies at the pub.”

“And Poppy?” You ask between gulps. Merlin, you really must have been out for two days–you’re positively parched. Before you can set the cup down, Sebastian casts aguamenti and you’re happily sipping once more.

“Safe and healthy.” Sebastian promises. “Let’s just say Bertie the dragon really bonded with Poppy while they were imprisoned together. He made quick work of the breeders.”

You blink at your fiance, brows furrowed as you try to make sense of his comment. When he bares his teeth and clicks his jaw open and shut, you cover your mouth with your hands.

“He ate them?” you gape.

“Well, it was us or the breeders.” Sebastian scoffs. “Better them than me.”

“I suppose that’s why the dragon was chasing after Andrew,” you muse. “He thought Andrew was trying to kidnap Poppy, not save her.”

“Spot on.” Sebastian laughs. “Speaking of, there are some people who’d like to see you.”

The door opens, and your friends spill through the door as if they’ve been waiting right outside the entire time. The normally stoic Anne runs to you, clutching your forearm. Ominis stands over her, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe the two of you.” Ominis shakes his head. “Battling a dragon in the first trimester.”

Sebastian furrows his brow. “Hey–I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”

“And I would’ve gone regardless.” You declare, pulling Sebastian’s hand into your own.

Andrew, Everett, and Poppy file into the room after your sister and brother-in-law. Everett has his arm in a sling, while Andrew still looks like hell. Poppy has a few bandages on her hands, but she easily slides down at your side next to Anne. The brunette girl gives you a teary eyed smile, mouthing her thanks.

“First mission and you get taken out by a damn boulder.” Andrew laughs. His knuckles are bruised and cut, black eye starting to go green around the edges. “I thought you’d be an asset to the team, but you ended up a liability.”

“Oh shush,” you wave him off, pressing your hand to the soft edge of your belly. “You needed me.”

“That we did,” Everett says softly, squeezing your hand. “Thank you. I would’ve been clobbered off the cliff if it weren’t for you.”

“I can’t believe you volunteered to come along pregnant.” Andrew blurts. “Are you insane?”

“It was for Poppy.” You admit, winking at your favorite magizoologist. “I’d do anything for her.”

“Well, I must demand that you start relaxing.” Poppy declares. “You shouldn’t lift a finger for the rest of your pregnancy. If Sallow volunteers you for any missions, Bertie will take his head–you have my word.”

“Rest assured she won’t be doing anything but relaxing from now on.” Sebastian says firmly, crossing his arms. “I’ve already had a discussion with the ward matron about your leave of absence–”

You hold your hand up. “Sebastian, I’m not going to stop working. You know that.”

“You’re going to take a few weeks off to rest,” Sebastian continues. “Trust me, the matron told me they’ve had enough of your puking.”

You lick your lips, eyes roving the room as you take in the scene. It’s all of your favorite people in one room, the people your child will know best. You imagine your child growing up with them–visits from Aunt Poppy and her wild beasts, dinners with Andrew and Everett. You swallow thickly imagining Anne and Ominis doting over your newborn, and tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Are you tired?” Sebastian’s voice brings you back down to ear, his gentle murmur in your ear.

You nod, squeezing his hand.

“We’ll all be off, then.” Ominis announces. “Anne and I will get started on planning your elopement.”

You wipe at your eyes, which are now properly tearing up. “You don’t need to plan our wedding.” You let out a watery laugh.

“You’ll have the best wedding.” Anne assures you. “Certainly better than ours; I still remember Sebastian’s dates fighting on the dance floor–”

“I think that’s a story for another time,” Sebastian interjects hastily. “My wife is tired, she should get some rest.”

The motley crew files out of your hospital room, each promising to follow up with you in the days to come. Ominis has to practically tear Anne away from you, your sister-in-law spouting questions about wedding cakes while her husband pushes her out the door. He winks an unseeing eye at the two of you, his best friends, before the door clicks shut.

Immediately, Sebastian is climbing into your bed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We’re having a baby.” Sebastian says softly, his large palm flattening over your belly. “You’re having our baby.”

“We’re having a baby.” You echo, turning to him in the bed. The hospital beds at St. Mungo’s aren’t big by any means, and Sebastian will have a backache if he sleeps with you–but it doesn’t look like he’s planning on going anywhere.

Sebastian’s eyes are trained on you, hungrily taking in every detail of your face. “I can’t wait,” he garbles out, eyes watery. “You’re giving me a family. Gods, I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” You ask gently, pressing a palm to his cheek. Tears start streaming down his face, sniffling his freckled nose.

“For everything . Dragging you into a mission with a fucking dragon,” Sebastian laughs. “For tackling you on the mountain. Being gone for nearly two weeks, not giving you the opportunity to tell me. For wasting so much time–for not making you my wife earlier. Merlin, if I hadn’t been such a bonehead five, six years ago, things could’ve been so different–”

You press a fingertip to his lips. “I won’t have them any other way,” you whisper. “I’m so happy. You’re happy, aren’t you? You’re not upset?”

Sebastian laughs harder, shaking his head. “I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to be a father.” he says gleefully. “How could I possibly be upset?”

You chew on your lower lip. “The night I meant to tell you, you said something about us waiting until after the wedding. And at the inn, you seemed so worried that we’d be boring once we had a baby. Rather thought I was ruining your plans for us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I can't believe I ruined the surprise. Darling, I was being an absolute cad that night; I can't believe I didn't see it coming. You'd made my favorite dinner, and I turned it down for a sausage roll.” he says dramatically, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry about what I said at the inn. Pet, you and I could never be boring. Not while we’re together.”

“And you’ll be okay getting married earlier?” you ask nonchalantly, drawing circles on his chest. “Even if it wrecks our plans for a spring wedding?”

“I’ll marry you tomorrow if you let me.” Sebastian murmurs. “Fuck the plans. The only thing that matters to me is our family.”

You pull Sebastian into a hug, face nuzzling into his beard. He’s whispering into your ear–promising to shave his beard, to finish the flooring in the second bedroom as soon as he’s back home. He’ll take a few weeks off now that this case is over, and perhaps he’ll apply for low-risk cases now that he’s a father. He talks about your wedding, about how you can still get married in the center of Feldcroft if he can conjure enough tents.

Your eyelids are drooping, head resting against his chest when you think back to the topic of weddings.

“Earlier when Anne was talking about her and Ominis’s wedding–you had two dates?” you ask sleepily. “What was that about?”

Sebastian lets out a roar of a laugh, pressing his lips against your hair. “A story for another time. It’ll make you laugh, I promise.” he assures you. “I’ll tell you when you wake up.”

You nod, shutting your eyes. Tucked into Sebastian’s arms, you fall asleep against his chest.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #writing-intheundercroft #auror sebastian sallow #dad sebastian sallow #domestic sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #ngl I love andrew larson in this series #ominis and anne would plan great parties #poppy is a bamf per usual

217 notes · View notes

greenerteacups · 1 month

Note

I’ve got a follow up from another ask — you said, ‘[Hermione] would sooner be an auror than Harry would.’

Now I’m curious, what do you think Harry would grow up to do?

Dogs. He gets like four or five really big, sweet, aggressively friendly dogs and just hangs out with them all the time. Takes them up to Hogwarts to hang out with stressed seventh years around exams. Sometimes he brings them with him to fancy galas and war memorials and they chew up all the furniture. What are you gonna do? Tell Harry Fucking Potter, Wizarding Messiah, that his Saint Bernard has to wait outside? Good luck.

Okay, serious answer: I think there are several plausible options. Auror isn't the worst thing in the world, but it's a terrible option for someone with PTSD and an aggressive response to stress, besides which, Harry doesn't seem to enjoy dueling; he'd become an auror out of a sense of duty, not out of interest. Teacher is possible, but as I've said before, the reason most people think Harry would do this is because of his stint with Dumbledore's Army, which was functionally a high-stakes intensive in his favorite subject with his best friends in the world, and not really reflective of... the actual experience of teaching (which is both rewarding and also extremely mundane and often frustrating in a way that Harry doesn't have a great temperament for). I think he might try teaching out of a desire to return to Hogwarts, but that would be the biggest draw.

The one thing Harry does like to do enough to make a life of it, unambiguously, is quidditch. And the thing is, he could probably do it? If you're a quidditch recruiter post-war, and Harry Fucking Potter asks to play for you, you don't care if he can tell a broomstick from a teakettle, you say yes. But I think Harry would loathe the attention of being a pro athlete, and he definitely wouldn't have the stomach for ad deals or promotional tours, so he'd probably end up as a talent scout or a team manager. It wouldn't be a full-time career, since Harry post-war would realistically have no need to work if he didn't want to, but something to do to get him out of the house and keep him preoccupied.

If we're going for maximum realism: The thing with war heroes is: they can't stay out of politics. You're too powerful, and people in power see that, and you either become a player, or you get sidelined entirely and trotted out at state ceremonies. So if we're doing this realistically, Harry is still Ministry-affiliated, and in the best-case scenario, he's an idle war hero living a life of leisure on the board of several philanthropic foundations, floating around and doing whatever odd jobs need doing for Hermione. Worst case, he gets drawn back into Ministry politicking, possibly for good, which is something I cannot believe he would enjoy or find fruitful, but which I believe he would submit to if he thought it would help people.

#dragon tamer harry also strikes me as plausible but the thing is harry doesn't really like danger #he DOES like a quiet life surrounded by his friends #i think he'd be perfectly happy with a part-time/freelance job where he gets to spend more time with his friends/kids #and the other — perhaps most plausible option — is that he just does whatever ron wants to do #in order to hang out with him #harry potter

32 notes · View notes

artemisia-black · 1 year

Text

Character analysis of Kingsley Shacklebolt

Because I've been chatting so much about him on the @harrypocter's Discord server, here is my character analysis of Kingsley

1.0 Ambition and cunning, with a moral compass

He is obviously a very skilled wizard and must be ambitious to reach the point in his career where he can lead the hunt for Sirius. His skill is confirmed by Voldemort himself during the battle of the seven potters (where his talent is deemed to be second to Moody’s) :

“You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to,” sniffed Tonks. “Mad-Eye said he’d expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley.” DH

Furthermore, Kingsley deliberately feeding the ministry misinformation about Sirius, shows two key things about his character:

-First, unlike other ambitious law-enforcement agents such as Barty Crouch Snr, he is willing to risk his career to do the right thing.

- Second, he demonstrates a high level of cunning as no one in the ministry ever suspects him (granted, they are all fairly incompetent, but nobody ever questions him). His ability to play his role well is best demonstrated during his dialogue with Arthur:

“Morning, Weasley,” said Kingsley carelessly, as they drew nearer. “I’ve been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?”

“Yes, if it really is a second,” said Mr. Weasley, “I’m in rather a hurry.”

“Here,” said Kingsley brusquely to Mr. Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand, “I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We’ve received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle.”

Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, “Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting.”

Then he said in normal tones, “And don’t take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month.” OoTP

Notice the use of words like ‘carelessly’ and ‘brusquely’ to describe his tone, both of which imply that he’s used to commanding authority.

And this brings me to my next point.

2.0 A sacred 28 Pureblood

The Shaklebolts are a member of the sacred 28 (a list which excluded the monied Potters and the pureblood Weasleys); therefore, Kingsley is part of the wizarding upper-crust.

It is interesting to note that he is the only member of the Order, other than Sirius, who openly questions Dumbledore’s judgment.

“... why Dumbledore didn’t make Potter a prefect?” said Kingsley.

“He’ll have had his reasons,” replied Lupin.

“But it would’ve shown confidence in him. It’s what I’d’ve done,” persisted Kingsley, “’ specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days...” OoTP

This could hint at the idea that Dumbledore is able to exercise more power over those on the lower rungs of wizarding society. In contrast, Kingsley and Sirius have more ingrained confidence (from the privilege they grew up with) to question him.

Furthermore, he carries himself so well that even the wizard-hating (and class-obsessed) Dursleys take to him.

“This, and the fact that Kingsley had mastered the knack of dressing like a Muggle, not to mention a certain reassuring something in his slow, deep voice, had caused the Dursleys to take to Kingsley in a way that they had certainly not done with any other wizard.” DH

Kingsley also demonstrates a very astute knowledge of how pureblood supremacy leads to radicalisation:

“I’d say that it’s one short step from Wizards first’ to ‘Purebloods first,’ and then to ‘Death Eaters,’” replied Kingsley.

And this understanding echoes what Sirius says about his parent’s beliefs. Kingsley then goes on to give more strategic insight into Voldemort’s plans:

“Which suits him, of course,” said Kingsley. “The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself.” DH

3.0 The fire beneath the Ice

In almost all of his appearances Kingsley is described as having a stoic, calming presence. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a dark side.

While not actively fighting to kill, he reports it in a matter of fact manner.

“Followed by five, injured two, might’ve killed one,” Kingsley reeled off. DH

He then shows a tendency towards a dark sense of humor:

“Stan?” repeated Hermione. “But I thought he was in Azkaban?”

Kingsley let out a mirthless laugh.

“Hermione, there’s obviously been a mass breakout which the Ministry has hushed up. Travers’s hood fell off when I cursed him, he’s supposed to be inside too.

In conclusion, Kingsley is a sharp, intelligent, cunning, ambitious, privileged, commanding character, who has a wry sense of humor. He also has a dark edge to him, and is willing to take great risks to do what is right. And this is now a Kingsley stan account.

#kingsley shacklebolt #harry potter #hp analysis

244 notes · View notes

weasley-clan · 4 months

Text

Aurors and Dragons Chapter 1/? - Excitement

(No-Voldemort-AU)

(Charlie Weasley X f!Reader)

Description: You’re just trying to spend a quiet evening at home after a long day at work, but among your snooty parents and crazy best friend, you can never get a single moment of peace. You’ve just given up on your relaxing evening, when your friend pops in with surprising news. Charlie Weasley is back from Romania? And he’s suspected of what?

Warnings: None! Unedited

At long last, chapter one is complete! Aurors and Dragons is now officially underway. Thanks to my friends for proofreading this!

Taglist:

@k-k-merlin @wisteria-blooms @sh-12h57 @idkwimdahyd (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Word count: 2.1k

“Y/N? Are you even listening to me?” Nymphadora Tonks, your best friend and partner, asks. “Hello? Earth to Y/N!” She morphs her nose into a beak to catch your attention. “Huh?” You ask. You snap your eyes open and jerk your head off the desk. Tonks rolls her eyes. “Honestly, are you so tired that you can’t even listen to me?” She teases playfully. Her shock of hair is in its default pink color. You yawn and mumble, “Sorry. It was a long night.” “Not another raid, I hope?” You shake your head. “Worse. I had to babysit my spoiled prat cousin. He’s almost seventeen years old!” You sigh. “But of course my mother thinks he’s an absolute angel. She’d trade me for him any day.” Your friend bursts out laughing, attracting stares from the other Aurors. Rolling your eyes and suppressing another yawn, you say, “You’d be exhausted, too, if you had to watch him. You’d think he was a toddler from the way he acted. Though I suppose it is a defining characteristic of the Malfoys.” “Wait, wait, wait. Which cousin is this again?” Tonks’ spiky hair falls briefly into her eyes as she turns her head to look at you. “Draco!” You moan. “The spoiled little twat you brought to work with you a few months back?” “Yep,” You say mournfully. You look back at the pile of reports needing to be filled out and sigh. As the sigh turns into another yawn, Tonks shakes her head. “Okay, Sleeping Beauty. Back to work.” You grab your quill back out of the ink pot and begin to fill out the first report on the stack. Tonks grabs one, too, and before you know it, she’s done with hers. You're nearly halfway done, but after you yawn again, Tonks yanks your quill out of your hand, blotting ink on the reports in the process. “Hey!” You protest. “On second thought,” Tonks smiles, “you’re way too tired to be in the office right now, much less be useful. Go home.” She points towards the elevator at the end of the hall to make her point. “What? I’m fine!” You try to argue, but just as you get the words out of your mouth, you yawn again. Tonks shoots you a knowing glance, amusement shining in her eyes. “Fine,” you mumble. “I’m going.” Truthfully, you were glad to go home early. You knew that it was a slow day and Tonks wouldn’t need you, so there wasn’t much keeping you from leaving. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if something important happens,” you mutter behind you as you walk away. Tonks giggles. “I swear to come get you if anything exciting happens!” She calls after you. ‘Close enough,’ you think.

And so, just a few moments later, you apparated in front of the Lestrange estate. Home. As you groggily shove the door open and walk into your house, a familiar voice calls your name. “Y/N? Is that you?” “Yes, Mum, it’s me.” You roll your eyes. Who else would it be? As you enter the lounge, your mother glances at you. Her frizzy black hair is cascading down her back. “Did you finish… whatever it is you do?” She asked lazily. It was no secret that your parents didn’t have any interest in your profession, much less approve of it. “Actually I came home early,” you state plainly. Your mother shoots a curious glance your way and you are quick to offer an explanation. “It’s just, staying home with Draco last night exhausted me. He’s a bit of a prat.” “Don’t say that!” Your mother cries. “Draco is a doll; I’m sure you just didn’t sleep well, that’s all.” “Nonetheless,” you cross your arms, “I’m glad it’s over. I shouldn’t be babysitting a seventeen year old.” “Well, annoying or no, he’s still your younger cousin.” Your mother’s tone makes it clear that she doesn’t think Draco is annoying at all. Before you can protest, there is a cracking sound in the kitchen—your father is home. “Don’t apparate into the house!” Your mother exclaims. Your father just shrugs and walks through the doorway. As he sees you standing behind the chaise lounge, his eyes widen. “Oh,” he says, surprised. “Y/N, I didn’t know you’d be getting off work so early. I thought the ministry needed all the extra help it could get from the Aurors.” The last word is laced with acid. “Well, as I was saying to Mother, I took off work early today to try and get some rest.” Your father looks at you, and actually has something akin to sympathy in his eyes. ‘Draco?’ He mouths. You nod in response. Your father considered the Malfoys as his highest acquaintances, but even he found Draco annoying, at the least. “So, Rodolphus, how did your meeting with the minister go?” Your mother eagerly asks, pushing you out of the way to pull her husband to sit with her. You take the opportunity to slip out of the kitchen before you get dragged into a discussion on the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Even now, as you silently stalk down the hallway towards your room, you can hear your father calling Kingsley every slanderous thing imaginable. When you push open the mahogany door to your bedroom, you immediately head for your navy blue chair in the far corner of the room. You sit down, relishing the feeling of the plush seat. This is something you’ve always done after a particularly tiring day; plop yourself into your chair and relax. Sighing, you throw your hands into the air and drop your head onto the desk in front of you. You yawn for what feels like the thousandth time that day and rest your head on your arms.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until there’s a tapping on your shoulder and a voice is hissing in your ear. “Y/N! Wake up!” Your eyes dart open as someone pokes your cheek. Without even thinking, you slap the hand away. “Ow!” Your father playfully whines. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘don’t kill the messenger’?” “What?” You lift your head off the desk. As your eyes adjust, you father leans in. “Your mum told me to tell you that your ‘little half blood friend’ is here, waiting for you in the living room.” “Tonks?” You ask. He shrugs. “All I know is some witch with pink hair knocked on the door and said there was something exciting she needed to tell you.” “Exciting?” You ask incredulously. You vaguely remembered Tonks promising to find you if something happened a work, but you didn’t expect anything to actually happen. You stand up and smooth out the Auror’s vest you’re still wearing, deciding that there’s no harm in seeing what’s so ‘exciting’. You make your way through the house to find Tonks. You find her upon entering the lounge. Before you even see her, you know Tonks is here. You can tell because of the tension in the air and your mother’s rigid posture as she stands at the arm of the velvety chair in the corner. And then you see the tell tale bright pink hair and the unmistakable mischievous smirk on Tonks’ face. “Y/N!” Tonks jumps out of the chair she was occupying and runs over to you. You see your mother stiffen even more as Tonks grabs your arm and pulls you towards the front door. “What on earth? Tonks, where are we going?” “I’d like to ask the same thing, Miss Nymphadora,” your mother calls after you. Ignoring your mother, Tonks replies, “Back to the office. I told you I’d tell you if something exciting happened.” “Uh oh,” you sigh. “What? Don’t look at me like that.” Tonks is still dragging you outside. “You look scared; it’s not very flattering.” “Of course I’m scared! Last time you said something was exciting, it was a dragon rampaging through London!” But you let Tonks shove you out the front door. Though you would deny it, this is a welcome excuse to get away from your family. Once you’re out the door, Tonks shuts it behind you and grabs your hand. “C’mon!” She laughs. “We’re going back to the office.” “Can’t you just tell me now?” But Tonks doesn’t hear you. She’s already spinning on her heel and disapparating away, sucking you with her. When you pop out in front of the entrance to the ministry, you groan. “Really? We have to come all the way back to the office just for you to show me whatever it is you found?” “Trust me,” Tonks assures you, “you’ll want to see this in person.” You both enter the abandoned telephone booth and dial the secret number. The booth spins and shoots downwards, bringing you both back to the Ministry of Magic lobby. You’re in a sort of trance as Tonks pulls you through elevators and hallways, lost in your own thoughts. It’s not until you’re yanked into the Auror’s department that you finally take note of your surroundings. Every desk in the large office-like room is empty, and soon you realize why. Every Auror in the entire department is crowded around the notice board on the back wall.

“Tonks,” you ask, suddenly intrigued, “what’s everyone looking at?” Tonks looks at you, smug. “Told you something exciting happened.” You let her pull you closer, and the crowd parts for you and your partner. You can hear hushed whispers around you. ‘Ah, the daring duo!’ One voice whispers. ‘Told you they’d take at crack at this one.’ Tonks abruptly leans into your ear. “Do you remember Charlie Weasley?” She asks. You’re a little bit annoyed at her random question. Why does is matter if you remember Charlie Weasley? “You mean quidditch star Charlie Weasley from Hogwarts?” You ask sarcastically. “Yes, I remember him.” “Good.” Tonks nods in approval. As the final few aurors move out of your way, you can see the notice board. And right in the middle, you see the newest notice. As you read the page, your eyes go wide.

The notice reads;

Suspected Dragon Smuggler: Charlie Weasley

“Y/N? You good?” Tonks had noticed your silence. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. A lie. Charlie Weasley is a dragon smuggler? That can’t be right. You remember him from school; you were both in the same year. You remember his huge obsession with dragons. You remember the way he would secretly read books about dragon eggs into History of Magic. He even had a small Chinese Fireball stitched on the inside of his cloak. How can he be a dragon smuggler now? “So? What do you think?” Tonks asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. “About what?” “About taking the job…? Are you sure you’re alright?” Your friend grabs your hand. “It seems a pretty easy run, to me anyway,” Tonks continues, apparently not aware of your obvious. “The only hard part will be actually finding him.” The rest of what Tonks said was drowned out by your own thoughts. You stared at the moving picture below the name Charlie Weasley. It was a recent picture, probably taken in Romania; there was a green welsh in the background. His red hair was fallen into his face, but you could still see a pair of clear, blue eyes. You couldn’t get over how he looked so different-his nose, his eyes, his mouth.

Could Charlie—one of your best friends as students— be a criminal? And were you and Tonks really planning on arresting him?

Chapter 2 (coming soon)

Chapter Directory

#charlie weasley #weasley family #harry potter #wizarding world #charlie weasley x reader

28 notes · View notes

coffeeandmagicaltales · 2 months

Text

The Auror&The Devil part 12

AesopSharpxMC (Angst, hints of fluff, TAROT READING disclamer: I'm a witch and this is my own interpretation for the fic purposes)

"Is it nice to steal, huh, young lady?" grumbled Aesop, now in his own form, dabbing Sidó's scraped knee with Wiggenweld Potion, wiping the wound with a clean cotton bud. He wasn't concerned that the girl didn't understand English; his stern expression served as a universal language.

At the beginning she was quite scared that some force incomprehensible to her had brought her back near the orphanage. Now she averted her gaze in offense, lightning bolts striking from her eyes. She didn't even flinch, although the potion must have stung her- brave, angry little fluff. Morana struggled to contain her laughter. She and the girl were indeed similar... Perhaps not in appearance, but they shared a similar spirit.

"Hmm, aj ja som chodila do tohto sirotinca a ako ty som utiekla." (Hmm, I used to go to that orphanage too, and like you, I escaped) Morana began timidly, poking her side with her finger, which immediately elicited giggles, and she gave girl a piece of smoked sausage to eat.

"Naozaj?" (Really?) she asked incredulously and eagerly began devouring the food.

"Áno. Už dávno som stratil rodinu, hľadám ju." (Yes. I lost my family a long time ago, and I've been looking for them) Morana replied, leaning against the low wall on which Aesop sat the three-year-old.

"Boli to tiež čarodejníci?" (Were they also wizards?) she asked.

"Neviem, možno." (I don't know, maybe)

Sidó pondered, and after a moment, with her mouth full, she replied, "Pretože tu žije baba yaga, možno je to tvoja mama." (Because there's a Baba Yaga living here, maybe she's your mom.)

"Ako to?" (How so?)

"Ach, v ruinách hradu. Vraj všetko vie a vidí budúcnosť." (Oh, in the castle ruins. They say she knows and sees everything about the future.)

"Budúcnost..." (The future...) Morana immediately thought of the visions she had... maybe they weren't the result of Ancient Magic, but something she inherited.

"Ako sa voláš?" (What's your name?) she asked, reaching out her hand, greasy from sausage, towards Morana's scar, which made Aesop chuckle and silently say to Morana (when her face was smudged in grease she tried to ged rid off with her sleeve), "You deserve it."

"Morana, a toto je Ezop." (Morana, and this is Aesop.)

"Mám ťa rád." (I like you) she said immediately and added, "Môžem ísť s tebou?" (Can I go with you?)

The seemingly innocent question tugged at Morana's heart. The girl's eyes were full of hope that they would indeed take her with them, wherever that might be, even though she hardly knew them. She preferred to leave with strangers than to stay where she was.

The woman's mind suddenly found itself in Vienna, several years ago.

She sat covered in hops, cowering, trembling upon hearing someone's footsteps, and when someone's hand brushed aside the cones, she saw the face of an older man. He looked at her with surprise, and the kindly gleam in his eyes made her trust him.

"Shhh, calm down, little one. Don't be afraid of me," he said gently and sat her on a barrel. She was missing a shoe, which she had lost somewhere. She didn't understand his words then, but the tone of his voice was very soft and calmed her. He pulled out a checkered handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her dirty face. "Where is (he pointed to Morana) mama... hmmm mutter?"

Morana shook her head, indicating that she was an orphan.

Mr. Dimm scratched his head, surprised by the whole situation. Thoughts raced through his head; he looked into her crystal blue eyes, big and sad, knowing that this child was a blessing from heaven. Before him sat a beautiful girl, the long-awaited child they had dreamed of with Lyra for years.

As soon as they heard footsteps and voices, Morana grabbed his big hand and hid behind him. At that moment, he completely fell for her. Someone wanted to harm her? Over his dead body. He lifted her up and wiped her tears away. For a few moments, they looked into each other's eyes, their fates intertwined.

...Sidó looked at Morana and Aesop alternately, waiting for an answer.

"What did she ask?"

"She wants to go with us."

"Oh..." Aesop let out, also touched by the question, and began to think feverishly. "Well... it's not really a good idea... Where would she live? With whom? You... You're studying, you have plans for the future, and I... I'm old and alone... I work a lot... It wouldn't work out..." he started, as if for a moment, he really considered the idea. Morana sadly shook her head; it didn't make sense. A three-year-old wasn't a puppy to "hang around" with them... And even a puppy should have better care. It was out of the question!

Morana picked her up without a word, and the three of them started silently toward the orphanage. Sidó wet the woman's shoulder with tears, intertwining her hands in her hair, which she clung to tightly, causing Morana's heart to ache. Aesop, following them, saw the sad look in the girl's eyes and did everything not to look at her, knowing that in a moment, he would completely fall apart. Just before the orphanage gate, he dampened a tissue with a few drops of a potion known only to him, to pretend to wipe her nose and put her into a blissful sleep, so that she wouldn't experience the parting.

They handed the sleeping Sidó over to the hands of sister Illuminata, Aesop took care of it with one of the spells, so that the nun would forget that she had seen them and that Sidó had escaped.

"Ugh, how much I'd give for a glass of whiskey... Or three," he muttered as they walked away from the gate and gently stroked Morana's shoulder, who walked beside him in silence, with her head down. "What's on your mind?"

"Ehhhhh..." she grumbled. "I feel terrible. I want to cry. I've had enough."

"Hmm... We can always visit her from time to time, support her financially in her future education. Ask if anyone among our friends would like to adopt her... Does that thought comfort you at least a little?"

"Maaaaaybe," she muttered, then added. "It's good that you're down-to-earth. Your ideas always comfort me..."

Aesop smiled; Morana's words stroked his ego and made it purr.

"She's safe, she has food, nothing's happening to her. Even though that nun, whatever her name is, the Illuminata sister, is terrible, she won't harm her, she takes care of the children - that's what my intuition says, although, well, I'll admit, those big dark eyes made me ready to run away with her for a moment." he laughed. "My next brilliant idea is: let's get back to why we came here... I heard her mention something about Baba Yaga, that's a Slavic term for a witch, isn't it? I saw that it caught your interest."

Morana nodded and sent him a smile.

"The ruins of the castle are nearby; according to Sidó, a witch lives in them who sees the future..."

"Mmmm," Aesop became interested. "Interesting... How far is it?"

"About 5-6 hours from here by foot, I recall those ruins from local legends... people said that they were haunted."

"I like such legends; you immediately know there's something to them. We'll find a carriage and set off!"

"I'm not sure if there are carriages going straight to the castle here..."

Aesop pulled out a tiny vial with a "DANGER" label from Madame Niffleur's bag, certainly not a Polyjuice, and his sly smile seemed very suspicious to Morana. "Did you say something? We're certainly not flying there on a broomstick. Madame Niffleur can be very persuasive."

The afternoon sun, although still scorching the skin, was slowly beginning to descend. Aesop and Mora struggled to climb the slope, from the top of which the ruins of the castle watched over the surrounding hills, resembling the sleeping dragon with its uneven, elongated shape and white scales. Bright, hewn blocks of limestone, from which the fortress was built, sparkled in the light and seamlessly merged with the base of massive rocks, tightly entwined with a tangle of weeds, bushes, and sharp thorns tugging at the wizards' clothes. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Aesop conceded to the ancient architects who chose this place as an observation point and a true bastion – the view of the hillside ocean was breathtaking, but back then it was crucial for military tactics, and the numerous caves hollowed out in the rocks at the beginning of time provided shelter and were perfect for securing food. A beautiful place surrounded by the history of thousands of people who lived before them, possibly even some of Morana's ancestors... He imagined Morana in a princess's attire, but not the kind a regular princess from books about knights would wear... no... He saw her as she gazed at the green hills with her blue eyes, a just, decisive, calm ruler, but incredibly dangerous to anyone who dared to appear with a foreign banner under her walls... Pearls intertwined in jet-black hair adorned her temples. Her attire? Not just any dress in pastel colors. A gown made of leather and black silk, very comfortable, not restricting movement; a sleek scabbard tightly fastened with a belt to which the best sword and dagger would be attached; wrapped in a cloak of bear fur... which she probably hunted herself... The thought amused him somewhat and sweetened the climb. Queen Morana, the ruler of Nitra. It sounded more than good, huh.

A solitary ruler? Would she have a king? Probably not. This thought amused him again, but after a moment, another, less pleasant thought arose. Many would vie for her hand. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but in his imagination, he saw a knight from a painting that hung in his room at Hogwarts, which resembled of him... Sir Sharp of... what exactly? Hmm, Hogwarts? Aranshire? It didn't matter... He dismounted from the white steed, striding proudly in shining armor amidst the pitifully tumbling bunch of youths writhing at the feet of Queen Morana... He bowed before her, and taking her delicate hand, he brushed her ring with his lips. She smiled, and her eyes sparkled, she lifted his chin, gazing deeply into his dark eyes...

He twisted his foot on a stone, and a bolt of pain pierced his knee. He cursed soundlessly, pushing through the bushes, unable to see a path trodden by deer. Morana walked a little ahead of him, easily navigating the path...

As a disabled person, he probably wouldn't survive long in those times... Most likely, he would buckle under the weight of the armor, become a laughingstock... Not only in the past, though. He lowered his gaze, feeling another wave of uncertainty and disgust towards himself wash over him. A man in the prime of his life, yet he had to be handled like a porcelain figurine, like an old man... Men like him don't dance with princesses, they hide in the shadows and quietly fade away...

"Aesop, everything okay?" Morana's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "You seem... gloomy... Maybe you'd like a break?"

Aesop cleared his throat and shook his head. "I'm perfectly fine... It's very beautiful here, I got lost in thought... Shh!" He suddenly became cautious, as his instinct told him they weren't alone. He stopped, scanning the surroundings; they were practically at the gate. Something moved near it, a shadow. Morana spotted it too. Both exchanged knowing glances and discreetly prepared their wands.

The shadow stood still, leaning against the stone wall. An old woman in a cloak with a hood casting a shadow over the upper part of her face, leaning on a staff. She smiled mysteriously, and in the pale sunlight, her teeth gleamed with gold and silver, tufts of completely white hair grazed her wrinkled tan face. Aesop and Morana cautiously approached her and greeted her uncertainly, their wands behind their back at the ready.

"I knew you would come," she said in English, her voice carrying a strong accent, but not the one people from these parts or any Slavs had. Something Italian, maybe Spanish...

"How do you know we speak English?" Morana asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"I know everything, dear..." the old woman whispered.

Aesop became wary. "You probably heard us from afar. These empty walls must echo sound well..." he interjected, squinting, scrutinizing the woman. She laughed.

"You guessed right. My knowledge comes from what I hear and see, and I listen very attentively and observe carefully, so I know... Come, it's a sin not to welcome guests, especially if they come on business..."

"Business?" Aesop bristled.

"For what other reason would you come here?" she shrugged, leading them along the long courtyard towards a hole in the wall, which was almost blocked by fallen doors. "The castle is haunted, terrible things happen here... That's what they say, so no one comes here without good reason. And so it is. No one visits me without a reason. Only on business."

Morana and Aesop looked at each other, perplexed, not knowing what was happening. With no choice, they followed the old woman through a winding corridor illuminated by candles. Along the walls, hanging from the ceilings, were bunches of dried plants and mushrooms emitting an incredibly intoxicating scent. Lavender, rosemary... there was plenty of that here... They finally reached a small cave or a room that was once a palace cellar. It was quite cozy; the ceiling and walls were covered with carpets, there were plenty of dried plants, trinkets, vials, and jars crowding the shelves, bowls with crushed seeds, ointments, crystals, bubbling distillation flasks in which all sorts of remedies were weighed... In the old royal fireplace, a fire was burning, and above it hung a cauldron with bubbling liquid. The old woman pointed to the table with a wave of her hand. Aesop and Morana took their seats opposite her.

"I came to..." Morana began, but the stranger immediately silenced her.

"Don't say anything, be silent, I will find out myself." she said pleasantly. "What the mouth says does not always speak the heart and mind... And I must see the truth, however... For every magic, it is right to make an offering first. Magic is a gift from the ancient gods, just as they were offered sacrifices, so every use of it, like meeting a friend, should start with a gift and end with gratitude..."

She pulled out a deck of cards from her pocket and began shuffling them. Aesop moved, surprised by her words, but in a fraction of a second, everything became clear to him. "Dammit, she's a Muggle witch." He rolled his eyes and immediately turned to Mora. "We're wasting time, she's a fraud. Tarot, crystals, ointments... Uh, quackery, trying to extort money." he muttered, glaring at the witch. Morana wasn't so sure about that, her intuition, on the other hand, suggested to her that whether a fraud or not, she might have some information about what happened to her family. She took out a coin and placed it on the table.

Before Aesop could protest, the coin disappeared into the witch's pocket, and two cards appeared on the table. One by Morana, the other by him. The woman smiled mysteriously.

"Payment accepted. My question is – who are you, strangers?" she reached for two more cards and laid them below. "What did your pasts bring?" She began shuffling. "And, since you seem to work together... oh!"

From the shuffled deck, only one card shot out and fell on the table, between Morana's and Aesop's line of cards.

"...How might this future unfold for both of you?" She finished, sliding the last card down, but leaving it between Morana's and Aesop's readings.

"Ugh," Sharp grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Well, wonderful, making a fool of myself, splendid..."

The witch silenced him and turned over his card.

THE MAGICIAN

Aesop's eyebrows twitched. Not that he believed her, no, not at all, she was just a simple fortune-teller, but the coincidence intrigued him somewhat.

"Oh yes... The Magician..." the witch began. "It's a card of someone who pursues knowledge, powerful, often invisible to many, which can lead to boasting... Hmmm, it's funny, you see?" She placed a finger on the drawing, and Aesop and Morana leaned in slightly to get a better look. "All the elements that make him up lie before him on the table, as if he's about to examine them, as if he's pulling them out of himself and trying to understand them somehow... He doesn't know what to do with them, they're ready, but unused... His wealth," she pointed to the coin, "the path he has taken," she indicated the staff, "the desires, feelings, and longings he carries within," she pointed to the cup, "and his mind, sharp and extraordinary," she pointed to the sword. "It's all right here before him, yet he separates it from himself, as if he doesn't want to accept it, seeking help from above, in magic, or some 'higher knowledge,' but the answers are literally before him, within reach. He seems lost, uncertain... Is he afraid to reach for them and use them? We'll soon see why, but first, I want to get to know you, young Lady..." She paused and turned to Morana. Meanwhile, Aesop stiffened, not liking how accurate the woman's words were.

Morana's card was swiftly revealed.

THE DEVIL

"Hmm, I didn't expect to see such a card for a young, beautiful lady... But looks can be deceiving. Power surpassing that of the Magician, even black magic! However, my instinct tells me it's just a symbol... A symbol of someone seeking freedom, because you see, Lucifer defied God himself to go his own way, but... I don't see freedom here, but rather enslavement... Something that binds you and won't let go, even though the nooses around the necks of the figures visible here are completely loose and could slip off at any moment, yet they don't escape... It seems to me that something that once helped you turned out to be your false friend... Not a person, no, no... Something you deeply believe in, something whispering all possible negative scenarios into your ear... Why is that? Hm... It's time to learn about your past, shall we? Let's start with the Magician, what made you be here today, in the company of this extraordinary woman, thousands of kilometers from home?" She turned over his next card, and Aesop's stomach churned. A bloodied figure lay on the ground, literally nailed to it with swords. He heard screams and noise in his head, for a fraction of a second, he saw Sholto's dead body lying face down in a pool of blood just like the figure on the card. He averted his gaze, trying not to look at it.

"I'm so sorry..." the witch said gently, seeing how the card panicked him and immediately flipped it over so he wouldn't have to look at it. "You've encountered terrible things, Magician... Blood, suffering, despair... Your own mind has failed you, you've made a mistake somewhere, one that cost you everything... This card speaks for itself and is worse than the Death card because you see, the Death card heralds rebirth, but this... emptiness, nothingness, which clings to you. So much evil has befallen you. However, this card pertains to your past... The future is ahead of you..." She gestured to the mysterious, single card in the middle. Her gaze fell on Morana, who was absorbed in every word she said. "And what befell you, Devil?"

The card was revealed, depicting a very idyllic scene of floating cups and a happy family looking at them, as at the rainbow. However, this idyll was upside down before Morana.

"You've lost your family," the witch concluded. "That's why you can't free yourself from the past, find a place for yourself, stability, and emotions, like water from these ten upside-down cups, spill over..." The old woman looked at the last card and smiled mysteriously, lifting it without showing them what was on it. "This card ripped itself out to you, but it's up to you whether you want to know what's on it, or, judging by what I've seen, it's not the purpose of your visit..." Morana wasn't too eager, and Aesop, even more so, as he had seen enough and wanted to leave.

"I understand." The woman shuffled all the cards back into the deck and rested her intertwined hands on the table. "Magician and Devil... How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my family," Morana spoke softly. "Something happened in Nitra a years ago; suddenly I found myself in the forest one night with no memory... I'd like to find out what happened then... Maybe you remember something, or at least know someone who spoke of some strange phenomenon, I don't know... It happened on the night of January 1st to 2nd, 1875..."

Baba Yaga pondered for a moment.

"In Nitra? Hmm, not really, I's a dull place... Although, there was a fire in Jelenec at that time, I remember it well. People said the flames burst literally in a split second, as if it was the work of the devil himself, so I was summoned afterward because the neighbors were afraid, fearing it was black magic..." Morana flinched.

"Do you know where it was? What happened?"

"By the lake. I instructed them to sprinkle everything with holy water and bury it, mark it with a stone so that no one would build anything there. Hmm, it's strange, but no one could figure out who lived there, and we all know each other very well here, or at least I know everyone well. There were a few huts in that area. We looked for bodies, asked if anyone knew anything... in vain: we only found a few charred bones and buried them in that place..."

Morana felt a stab in her stomach. That was her home, she was sure of it. And her family was dead.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Aesop felt touched by the words of the Muggle woman, who had undoubtedly deduced many things about them by observing their reactions to the pathetic cards. It was a game, and she was barely observant and extremely intelligent. He was a real wizard.

"What magic school did you attend?" he asked rather curtly.

"Schools?" she laughed. "None, Magician. My mother taught me spells, her mother taught her based on the knowledge passed down from our mothers. These are old spells, not spectacular, they work slowly, but they are as powerful as yours... Yes, even though I'm old, I saw your wand, which is now barely sticking out from under your sleeve... Don't worry, it's nothing new to me; people like you also visit me. There are quite a few of them living in the area, those who returned from studies in France or somewhere in the north... They come to me for advice on many matters, especially when it's restless in the nearby graves..." The woman turned to Morana. "Go southeast; the lake is nearby. You'll see an empty space between the houses filled with stones. That's the place."

Morana, enveloped in the velvety rays of the setting sun, stood in silence, looking at the pile of bright stones in front of her and a quite large boulder laid on them. It was very quiet, peaceful, and the temperature had dropped thanks to the pleasant chill from the nearby lake, around which wild birds circled, mainly crows living nearby.

She felt strangely absent.

She had reached her home, where she wanted to be. Although she didn't know their names, her family lay buried under her feet; now she could visit this place, she knew where she came from. The puzzle was almost solved.

Well, she should be happy. Feel relieved, from finding her parents' grave, even though the perpetrator of their death could still be at large...

She should be happy.

She felt only confusion.

Anger that her life hadn't changed, that she couldn't call those nameless people "family." She didn't feel an influx of emotions associated with this area, she didn't feel "at home" here. She looked at the boulder and was basically indifferent to everything.

Aesop observed her from a distance, casting Revelio in a few places out of habit to find any clues. Too much time had passed, and Muggles or wizards had already erased all traces. It wasn't comforting at all. Something had been solved, but nothing had really been. Morana seemed even more depressed than before, which saddened him and that annoying fortune-teller, well, a Muggle witch made him sick. He had encountered such frauds mixing in the heads of Muggles in his life and didn't trust them for a penny, and now he calmly analyzed everything she said, making sure she just read their behavior and chose responses based on that...

He kicked a small stone with his healthy foot, annoyed, then took a deep breath and looked at Morana. He let her stand there as long as she needs; she needed time to sort things out in her head. He walked ahead, looking at the surrounding houses... he noticed freshly planted Chinese Chomping Cabbage in the gardens, some Dittany... There were indeed wizards living here. Morana's family was probably one of them, but someone literally wiped them out with an exceptionally strong and cunning spell. Soon Morana approached him.

"Let's go back," she whispered.

"Do you want to look around some more? Maybe ask someone?"

"No," she replied, staring at the ground.

"Do you have anything else to do in Vienna, or can we head straight back to the Highlands?"

"No, I've taken care of everything, orders will come next week straight to the brewery."

Seeing her sad expression, Aesop laid his hand on her shoulder. She flinched, as if awakened from a dream, and looked him in the eyes.

So much had happened in these few days.

"Butter beer?" he offered, smiling warmly and extending his forearm toward her. Morana sent him a hesitant smile. She looked at the boulder one last time and grasped his arm firmly, practically nestling into it. Aesop kept his promise, helping her find her parents, for which she was grateful... and she didn't know how to express it. She tried to say something, but the chaos in her mind completely prevented it.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking him straight in the eyes, and at the same moment, she gently squeezed his arm. Aesop felt her fingers clenching the fabric around his skin, causing it to sting and tremble, as if even his own skin was pleased with Mora's the closeness. He nodded slightly, humbly saying nothing. The investigation had come to an end for now.

For now.

There was a loud crack, and the two wizards disappeared, leaving the hills of Nitra far behind.

End of part 12, thanks for reading.

#hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #aesop sharp x mc #hogwarts legacy meme #professor aesop sharp #aesop sharp smut #hogwarts legacy #professor sharp #aesop sharp

11 notes · View notes

imsparky2002 · 11 months

Text

Halloween Fun: Part 4

The Akuma class were surprised at how thorough the school had been with decorating every room. It was known that Principal Damocles loved Halloween, but this was a whole new level of commitment. As they entered Miss Bustier's classroom, there were gasps of shock at the decor. Cobwebs everywhere, an eerie fog on the floor, ominous messages and fake blood on the walls, and for some reason, an old phone on the teacher’s desk.

“I am loving this spooky vibe!” Alya said, taking a picture to post on her blog. “They really went all out with this place.”

“Y-Yeah...” Mylene shivered, looking at the fake blood. “It’s r-really detailed.” Ivan gave his girlfriend a comforting hug. “It’s alright, Little Mouse. None of it’s real.” he whispered. “Exactly, the staff just wanted to get into the spirit of the holiday.” Nathaniel replied, holding in the urge to chuckle. The guests hadn’t even shown up and they were already getting spooked!

As usual, Chloe took the opportunity to ridicule and tease her classmates. “Once a scaredy-cat, always a scaredy-cat, Haprele.” Chloe sneered. “It’s just a bunch of lame props! Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Mylene just gave her a frown. “Last time you teased me, I got akumatized. Do you want Horrificator to come back for a visit?” she countered. Chloe shut up immediately.

“Yo, where’s Rose and Juleka?” Kim asked, noticing their absence. As someone who was in on the scare, and providing them with his tech, Max jumped in. “Rose is at the dentist.” he said. “And Juleka told me she was out sailing with Luka and their mom.” Nathaniel added. “Juleka would’ve loved all of this.” Marinette admitted. “Yeah, but I don’t think Rose would’ve.” Adrien replied. “A cute peppy girl like her wouldn’t want anything to do with a scary holiday like Halloween.”

GhostRose hid behind the bookshelf, rolling her eyes as her classmates spoke of her as if she were a frightened little child. “We’ll see about that.” JV muttered from her hiding spot inside the fake desk. All of a sudden, the phone begins to ring. Adrien goes to pick it up. He gives a couple of “Ohs” and “Oks” and then says goodbye. He looks puzzled as he hangs up.

“Who was it, dude?” Nino asked. “That was Miss Bustier. She said she thought it would be fun if for Halloween, her ancestor taught the class.” he replied. The class began to mutter in confusion. “Ancestor?” Sabrina asked. “Yes. Apparently, her ancestor Florence used to teach at DuPont, and now her spirit stays here at the school.” he replied. “So I guess her ghost is going to teach us.”

“Oh shit.” Alix said. “I remember looking up the school’s website, and I stumbled on the list of former teachers. Florence Bustier really exists.”

Kim began to sweat and rock back and forth a little. “Come on guys, this is just Miss B pranking us. There’s no such thing as ghosts!” he said nervously. Some of the kids were about to argue with him, but were interrupted when Marinette got a notification on her phone.

“Huh, Aurore just texted me. Says they have some ‘guests’ in their class.” she stated. Mylene got a notification as well and look surprised. “Reshma says they got a vampire.” Mylene replied. “As well as... oh my god! The Phantom of DuPont?” Everyone except for Lila, Alya and Adrien gasped in shock. “What’s that” Adrien asked. As the expert on the subject, Mylene took some time to explain.

“Well, you know our school is hundreds of years old. There’s this old legend about a ghost that haunts the school, mostly the theater. They say he’s caused terrible accidents, but that he also helps sometimes!”

Kim just groaned and started rocking back and forth in his seat. “Aw come on, man!” he complained. “Every time I hear about that... thing, I feel like I'm gonna have a heart attack.” Nathaniel nodded. “One thing’s for sure. The Phantom loves to give people a fright.” he replied. Lila tried yet another attempt at gaining popularity by using her silver tongue. “Oh, I’ve met the phantom before! He can be SO romantic when he wants to be.” Lila blushed. “Most the stories say the Phantom was gay.” Marinette corrected. “G-gay people existed back then?” Lila gaped. The rest of the class looked at her with a “really?” face. Their conversation stopped as a ghostly voice echoed throughout the room.

“Oooooohwhoooo, greetings my dear stuuuuudents! How are yoooou on this fine spooooky daaaay?” it wailed. Marinette had a pretty good idea who this was supposed to be.

“Guys,” she said. “I think this is the “ancestor” Miss Bustier was talking about.”

There was a flash of lightning, and a white translucent figure rose out of the floor. It looked like one of those old Scooby Doo ghosts, except this one was floating from the ground. What the students who were in on the scare knew that this illusion was provided by a projector, holograms, and a bunch of mirrors.

Another flash, and she disappeared once more, reappearing behind Adrien and Alya, causing them to scream. She glided towards them, arms outstretched.

“Ooooooh, I am Miss Boooostier. It’s a pleasure to meeet yoouuu!” she moaned. Alya tentatively smiled and trembled a little as she responded. “H-hello, Miss Boostier. What are you going to teach us?” she asked. The spectre glided away, going through Kim’s body, causing him to yelp in fear.

“Ooooooh, well, befooore we start our frightful histoooory lessons fooor the day, we have soooome guest stuuudents of our oooown to meet!” Boostier said. “Wh-who are the guests?” Sabrina shivered.

Just at that moment, the old phone rang. Since Boostier was unable to pick it up, Marinette went up to put the phone to her ghostly ears. :Helllloooo, Miss Boooostier speeeakinnng!” Boostier answered.

GhostRose gave an ominous chuckle as she prepared to make her entrance.

“Hello... Miss Boostier.” she replied.

And now we have a teacher involved with the scares! Miss Bustier’s a fan of the holiday and decided to some of the students out with this little prank. Next up is GhostRose, so that’ll be exciting. As usual thanks to Weeby for helping me out with the dialogue. Make sure to reblog, reply, post and ask for thoughts on the content. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

#miss bustier #caline bustier #caline #miss boostier #florence boostier #florence #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ghosts #ghost #halloween fun #halloween #akuma class

17 notes · View notes

humanoidalien27 · 1 year

Text

Content warning: guilt, arguments, attempted kidnapping.

......

Chapter 5

Under Watch

"It's like they know. Can dementors speak?"

Felix shrugged. "Not that I know of, but that's not to say other soul sucking monsters couldn't."

"Soul sucking monsters?" Ominis asked softly.

Half laughing, Felix replied. "Politicians."

"What exactly did you do before you were imprisoned?"

He nearly straightened up. "I was an auror, I knew Solomon Sallow as well as Aesop Sharp. I worked with them on occasion. Never liked Sallow- Uh, no offense," he said shooting Sebastian a quick glance, who waved it off. "Sharp though, he had a good head on his shoulders, a bit cocky, it was bound to get him eventually."

Ominis leaned against the wall with a small sigh. "He limps now."

"Yeah, but he's still gifted with a wand and potions. Those are a powerful combination."

You stood up to start pacing, feeling like you'd lose your mind if you didn't move.

"That's all well and good, but what are we going to do about those confidential papers? We can't just ignore them and we can't assume they're genuine either."

"I can tell you, breaking into the Ministry isn't going to be easy," Felix replied shaking his head.

"Unless one of these aurors watching us escorts me to the Ministry. Of course I'd probably have to go face to face with the Minister-"

"No."

You glanced between Sebastian and Felix, who both spoke at the same time.

Ominis chuckled softly as if knowing something you didn't. "I would have to agree with them actually. What's to stop the aurors from putting you in Azkaban for merely being suspicious of you?"

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Fine, but we still need to confirm these documents."

Sebastian bumped your shoulder when you crossed your arms. "How about a little trip to Feldcroft? If Solomon was working with them, then he'd have something incriminating there."

"People will recognize you."

He chuckled softly. "Yes, because no one has created a potion to make someone look like another."

"You don't exactly have somebody to turn into Sebastian."

"Don't I, Ominis?"

Rolling your eyes, you cut over Ominis's reply. "I didn't bust you out of Azkaban so you can be careless Sebastian."

"I'll be careful."

"I will apparate you back to Azkaban," you warned, but you knew your threat was hallow.

By the grin he gave, he knew it too. "No you won't. You like me too much."

He tossed his arm over your shoulders, in a playful manner.

"Don't make things weird. I just don't want it to be for nothing," you replied pinching his hand.

He chuckled, but never pulled back.

Felix glanced at Ominis. "They don't see it, do they?"

"What can I say, they're dense," he replied, slightly annoyed. "Now, it would be better if her and I go alone. We wouldn't raise suspicion if we go gathering Anne's belongings."

"And if the aurors try to take you two?"

"It won't make things easier if you and Felix tag along and are spotted. Besides, they'll know something is up seeing as the last couple months only Omni and I have visited that house."

"She's right. In any case if we wait any longer the aurors could have a chance at getting rid of the evidence," Felix added, though he still sounded unhappy about it.

Sebastian's arm tightened for a second before he stepped away. "Fine, I know when I'm out numbered."

You couldn't help but glance to Ominis, who was also puzzled. Sebastian wasn't one to back down.

He laughed at the exchange. "I learned a thing or two from our previous adventures. I will just go and make myself at home here."

"Well, whatever, I need to get some things ready just in case we are ambushed."

You and Ominis made sure to travel from the undercroft to Feldcroft, instead of walking the whole way, but once you entered the house, Anne was sitting at the table.

"I knew you would return," she said over her shoulder. "I never expected you two would break him out."

Ominis fell quiet, so you took the reigns. "Why are you suddenly assuming we did anything?"

She sighed as she stood. "I know, because no one else would dare try it, but Sebastian killed our uncle. He should pay for what he's done."

Anger instantly bubbled up as your own guilt from your hand in his fate and the night your dad died, weighed heavily.

"Okay, you know what? I'm sick and tired of hearing about Solomon's death being the only thing you care about."

"Excuse me?!"

You nodded. "Yeah, completely done with it. Yes, someone you loved died, but that same guy was abusing your brother. Bullying him, while you watched and did absolutely nothing about it. Sure, you couldn't stop him physically, but that mouth clearly works. Your brother risked everything to save your life. The last of his family he thought cared about him and your first idea was chuck him in Azkaban."

"You didn't think it was a bad idea enough to voice this then, why now?"

"I did say you were making a rash decision due to fresh wounds, you ignored it. Solomon wasn't a good guy, no matter what your brain tells you. He made you believe it because he made you dependant on him. Your life was literally in his hands and he was going to watch you die."

"Easy," Ominis whispered, his voice trembled at how angry yours sounded.

"There was no way to break curses like this!"

You gave her a look. "Your head's so far up Solomon's ego, you're not thinking for yourself. If there was no way to break curses then why does the Ministry employ cures breakers? As an auror, Solomon would have known that," you said as she glared at you with her hands clenched into fists. "You know according to some papers we found, Solomon was going to kill me and Sebastian that night in the catacombs. Isn't that fantastic? The worst part of this whole thing is that Sebastian gave up his childhood for you and as thanks, you stole the rest of his life."

Ominis sighed when she started crying, though she quickly left and he turned his head toeards you.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Yes it was," you hissed back, before heading towards the desks. "I get it, she misses the guy, but her brother is still alive and I haven't heard a worry out of her about him. Have you?"

He didn't reply, so you started searching for anything incriminating.

Whenever you'd find something that looked important, you'd store it in your bag.

"The aurors have found us," Ominis said from the other room, making you look back, only to find him holding a wand on one that entered the house.

"This place is filthy. It's definitely not a dignified place for a Gaunt. So, why don't you go on home and let me ask your friend here a few questions."

You quickly climbed to your feet, seeing the man's wand point at you as he pressed his fingers to his lips in a shushing motion.

"You're not here to talk, otherwise you wouldn't be trying to get me to leave. Why are you here?"

"This doesn't involve you-"

"It does. She's my friend."

The man tsked as he moved to open the door, his mistake was looking out of it to whistle. In that time, you snatched Ominis's arm and apperated home.

Seeing an owl on the counter, holding a letter. You tossed the money in his pouch, took the letter and pushed Ominis through the passage to the undercroft.

"Oh, you're back," Felix said coming over from the corner, seeing the panic on your faces.

"What's wrong?"

"An auror tried to kidnap her, that's what."

You rolled your eyes and focused on the letter as Felix pressed for more information.

-They're on the move. They're onto the possibility you're looking into them. Be careful who you trust. I'll be in touch.-

"What is that?"

You looked up seeing Felix eyeing your letter. "News that came a little late," you admitted, casting a glance around. "Where's Sebastian? I'd have thought he would be pacing a hole in the floor."

"He was, until I tricked him into drinking sleeping draught. He hasn't slept much since the aurors began hawking."

Nodding, you passed the note his way as you gave a small yawn of your own as the adrenaline left your system.

"You should get some sleep while you can."

"I think we should switch where we're staying. I know of a place that could keep us from going crazy by being cooped up."

......

Master post here.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

(Also. I feel the need to defend my character here, when it came to her rant at Anne. She wasn't meaning to be so cruel, just when you're angry to that point sometimes you say things that hurt other people. She's not proud of it, but in certain things that trigger her own trauma, she doesn't filter her words. She's a *fictional* human too.)

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #fanfiction #anne sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader

20 notes · View notes

greycappedjester · 1 year

Text

New Chapter-Hq at Hogwarts

A/N: I quite genuinely cannot get this to upload on my account right now so I'm going old school. I'll continue trying tomorrow when I have sleep. But, here's the chapter on tumblr.

Chapter 9: Howling at the Door

The spoon let out a tink-tink-tink with every round it stirred into the cup.

It was the only sound in the room.

Tanaka shifted in his seat.

Minaho sipped on her tea evenly, not looking in any way bothered by the silence.

Tink-tink-tink.

The noise grated on the room.

Tanaka couldn't help it anymore. “Uh…so you wanted to ask me some questions?”

“I do,” Minaho agreed pleasantly.

….and then didn’t say anything more.

Tink-tink-tink.

“So,” Tanaka ventured again, “what are they?”

“Hmm, before I ask them I’m curious about something else first,” Minaho said. She tilted her head, apprising him. “Why do you think you’re here, Mr. Tanaka.”

Tanaka swallowed.

The problem was there were too many ways to answer that. Tanaka would be the first to admit that he wasn’t someone who liked to think much more than the current moment--hated it, actually--but, he thought he’d been around enough to know this:

“That sounds like a trick question,” he said.

And, surprisingly enough, Minaho smiled. “I suppose you’re right.” She breathed out. “Listen, I’m not here to bully teenagers. As I’m sure you’re well aware by now, the Minister sent me to sort out what he sees as problems in this school.”

Tanaka frowned. “And I’m one of those problems?”

“You tell me,” Minaho said. ”I only just started here, after all. I don’t know any of you quite yet. What I do know is that you’ve been seemingly involved in quite a number of odd things on campus--most notably, in your fourth year, of course. Not to mention the number of detention you and your friend Mr. Nishinoya seem to have served. And why do I get the feeling that those were only for the times that made it on record?”

Tanaka winced.

“Then, we get to the Auror reports,” Minaho continued, “where two years prior, both you and your sister submitted supposed letters from your parents, starting a what appears to be unfounded accusation into Azkaban’s security.”

“Unfounded,” Tanaka asked.

“Well, since according to the Auror’s reports--people I’ve worked with and do know, mind you--nothing seems to have ever been found suggesting prisoners were able to contact those outside….then, yes, I’d say ‘unfounded’ would be the best term.” Minaho tilted her head. “Unless you have any information I don’t….”

Tanaka gripped his hands in his lap. “No.”

“No?” Minaho echoed. “Interesting. Since, according to the Minister, you and your friends once again tried to stir up unsubstantiated claims about Azkaban’s security--presumably for no other reason, then to cause hysteria at an already tense time for this country. But, now, it’s a no.”

Tanaka stayed quiet.

Minaho took another sip from her tea.

Tink-tink-tink.

“Like I said, I don’t know you,” Minaho said. “All I have to work with right now is heresy, which as an investigator, I can promise is extremely annoying for me. What I also know from experience is that people are influenced by those around them. Friends, family,” she paused before adding with emphasis, “parents.”

Tanaka went tense.

“That’s why I called you here today,” Minaho told him. “I was curious exactly who you were behind the stories. After all, everyone has the factors that make them. Everyone has their reasons for who they are--even if they don’t want to face them. The real question is what are yours?”

Tanaka tried to answer, really he did. The problem was that it seemed like there were too many, too many bouncing around at once and half of them felt like they were fighting each other. He couldn’t catch just one. And it made him feel…

Like a contradiction.

Tink-tink-tink.

When he looked back up, Minaho was still watching him, expression not unkind as she sipped her tea

“Maybe you should figure it out, then. Like I said, I’m curious,” she nodded to the door. “You’re dismissed.”

Tanaka jerked his head in a nod, shoulders heavy as he left the office.

He always liked to stay in the present.

-------

They sat in a line, the ones remaining--Suga looking tense, Hinata more bored than anything, Tanaka seeming like he held the weight of the world crumbling around him, and finally…

“Tooru Oikawa,” Minaho called.

Oikawa let out a long sigh. “Well, time to get this over with.”

------

“Would you like some tea,” Minaho started off. “It’s not poisoned, before you ask.”

“Darn,” Oikawa slipped easily into his chair, “and I’d have so loved an excuse to end this meeting early. What about you? Having fun terrorizing studnts?”

“Terrorizing?” Minaho scoffed. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“What do you see it as,” Oikawa asked. “Community service to us poor misguided youths?”

“No. For the most part?” Minaho considered. “I’d like perspective. Figuring out a puzzle, if you will.”

“I won’t,” Oikawa answered. “See, the tragic thing about puzzle boxes is that breaking them tends to spoil the mystery. Trust me, I’d know.”

“I’m not trying to break anything, Mr. Oikawa,” Minaho said. “To the contrary, actually.”

“Good for you,” Oikawa applauded, using the most patronizing tone he could manage. “Gold star, really. Here, you’v won over all my trust now in--let’s see--a minute.”

Minaho did not seem phased. “You don’t like me.”

“Wow, you really are part of the Investigations Department.”

“It’s alright. I’d be more surprised if you did,” Minaho sipped her tea. “I’m sure you feel there’s not many you can trust. It must be isolating.”

Oikawa mimed yawning. “What a fascinating after-school special this is. And coming up next is where you’ll tell me all about how much you understand.”

“I do understand some of it,” Minaho agreed.

“Of course you do. Let’s hear it, then. Targeted by pureblood extremists? Tortured by delusional idiots?” Oikawa tapped his chin. “No, wait, let me guess: Hmm, well, I’d say you’re not a muggleborn considering those in your generation had a --what was it?--only a twenty percent survival rate? I read my history books, you know.”

“I’m not a muggleborn,” Minaho agreed calmly. “My parents are.”

“Oh, then we’re basically twins, aren’t we?” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Let me tell you everything!”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if that’s what you want.” Minaho stirred her tea. “Let me clarify, I don’t have to know everything to understand trauma. Or to recognize it.”

Oikawa went still.

“Oh,” he said. “Is that it? You think I’m traumatized now.”

“Honestly, after all you’ve been through,” she said, voice even enough that it seemed to dig under his skin, I think it would be hard not to be.”

Oikawa scoffed. “I think you’re out of your depth.

“You don’t know me either,” Minaho reminded him.

“Hmm, do I really need to? You’re not that important.” He tilted his head, looking up from beneath his lashes. “A career with the Aurors and somehow you’ve ended up here interrogating schoolchildren. Yes, I can tell the Minister found you simply indispensable.”

Minaho’s jaw tightened and Oikawa smirked.

“How long do you think he took for them to decide to get rid of you,” he wondered out loud. “Minutes? Seconds? Do you think there were ever any other options or did they know immediately to throw you away?”

“Neither,” Minaho said sharply. “The Minister trusts me. I was right at the his side when we won the war. I’ve led hundreds of Aurors.”

“And look how they’ve thank you,” Oikawa drawled.

Minaho started to retort before stopping, taking a breath and visibly calming herself down.

Which simply wouldn’t do.

Oikawa poked at her again. “Mind if I call you Mina? Since we’re already getting to be such good friends and all.”

“You definitely have a talent for deflection,” Minaho remarked.

“Thanks, think I got a chance at the next talent show?”

“I’m sure you do,” Minaho said. “Of course, it might be hard with all that anger you seem to be carrying.”

“Anger?” Oikawa mock-gasped. “What would I have to be angry about? I’m a free-spirit! Basically an honorary Hufflepuff.”

“Right,” Minaho asked. “Never have nightmares, I’m guessing?”

Oikawa’s smile thinned. “Sleep like a baby.”

“Restlessness?”

“Only in pointless meetings.”

“What about pressure,” Minaho said and her voice was still even. “Like everything’s shaken up, like your skin is buzzing, like it’s coming from all sides.”

Oikawa’s fingers tapped harshly against his thigh. “No.”

Minaho raised a brow. “Would you like to take a break, Mr. Oikawa?”

“Ugh, no,” he huffed. “Just finish your stupid questions and let me get on with my life.”

“Ever feel a loss of control,” she asked quietly.

“Nope! Not a once! I’m always in control. Thanks for asking!”

“Feelings of mistrust?”

Oikawa snorted. “Not paranoia if everyone really is out to get you.”

Minaho paused.

“Everyone,” she asked.

“Hmm, it seems like it; it’s a tragic life,” Oikawa deadpanned. “My heart breaks for me.”

Minaho didn’t seem to play along. “It is. I assumed you’d at least trust your friends.”

“Oh, please, give it a rest with the trick questions.” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Of course, I didn’t mean them.”

“So, you do trust your friends, then.”

“Obviously.” He faked sympathy. “But, I guess you don’t have much experience with friends, then.”

“Some,” Minaho watched him. “Mainly in my job, however, I see people that have gone through terrible things--unimaginable. The good thing is that they survive. The tragedy is when they won’t ask for help for after.”

“Ah, and there it is,” Oikawa snapped back. “Help, help, help. You sound like a broken record. Sure you’re not projecting?”

“Have you talked to your friends about the Third Task,” Minaho asked.

“Oh, yeah, just bunches,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s a regular dinner conversation. I feel so much better. By Merlin, doc, I think you cured me. Are we done now?”

“It’s a hard thing to talk about,” Minaho said gently. She set down her teacup to focus on him more fully. “Sometimes….it doesn’t make sense; but, the hardest part to get through is the memory. When we’re living it, all we have to focus on is surviving. It’s after that we get to be terrified.”

Oikawa decided to stop playing nice.

“You don’t know shit.” He stood up. “I’m done now. Have fun--I don’t know--plotting mind games with children or whatever it is you do for entertainment.”

“I didn’t dismiss you,” Minaho said.

Oikawa faked shock. “Oh, wow, no, I guess you didn’t. Such a shame. I guess you can give me a detention I’ll skip, try to expel me. I’m sure the Prophet would love to hear about that, make good fun for your pal the Minister.”

“Mr. Oikawa….,” Minaho rubbed a hand over her face and looked--for a moment--a lot more human. “You may see me as the enemy; but, if there’s one thing you need to listen to it’s this.” She met his eyes. “If you don’t talk to anyone, whatever you’re feeling will eat you alive. Believe me. I know.”

“How touching,” Oikawa gave a parody of a smile. “It’s a good thing I’m such an open book.”

“Do you really think keeping them away will keep your friends safe,” Minaho demanded.

Oikawa stopped. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Minaho said evenly, “that when a person falls apart, there tends to be someone caught in the rubble. Normally, it’s the people closest. Do you think your friends will thank you for that?”

“I’m not a danger to my friends,” Oikawa bit out.

On the table, ripples started to break out along the tea’s surface.

Oikawa noticed and tried to breathe.

He couldn't do this now.

“I didn’t say you were,” Minaho said. “I said you needed to talk to someone. What happened in the Third Task, what happened in that basement between you and--

“No,” Oikawa cut her off, holding up a trenched hand. “No, you don’t get to say that name. You haven’t earned it. Shut up.”

The tea-cup started to tremble.

Minaho frowned. “I’m sorry. I thought you talked about him with the Aurors already. I didn’t think you’d mind me mentioning him.”

Oikawa shook his head, hands clenched.

Something in Minaho’s face cleared. “Oh. You don’t mean Hirano, do you?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes, trying to clear his head. The room seemed to be beating with the pounding in his blood. “No one means Hirano. No one cared about Hirano. Just a bloody idiot who believed in the wrong stupid promises.

“But, you care about him,” Minaho said quietly “That’s why you don’t want me to say his name.”

Oikawa laughed. He couldn’t help it. He laughed and laughed again, the sound cracking and tearing at his throat.

“Oh, Mina.” Oikawa’s smile abruptly dropped. “Don’t ever presume you know what I think about Ushijima. I told you,” he spat out, “you don’t deserve that.”

The teacup was shaking so much the tea had started to run out and Oikawa couldn’t stop it, not with his anger too thick and biting under his skin.

Minaho hadn’t looked away from him--hadn’t ended this stupid meeting--but, she would soon. She’d notice. She’d know.

“Oikawa,” she started again.

And he couldn’t do this here.

He couldn’t.

“Enough,” Oikawa shouted.

CRUNCH!

Minaho jumped and they both looked down at the shards of the teacup now laying on the desk, dark tea staining the wood…

From where Oikawa had smashed it against the top of the desk.

His hand was bleeding.

Numbly, he waved his wand and the tea-cup chipped itself back together.

“I’m done,” he said and his voice was hollow. “We’re done. Don’t talk to me. We’re not doing this again.”

Then, he left, taking the stair rail two steps at a time with his magic still beating heavily against him.

He still needed space.

Suga met him at the bottom, looking worried. “We heard a crash. What was--”

“Nothing,” Oikawa moved him aside.

“Your hand,” Suga tried to grab for it but Oikawa yanked away before he could. “It’s bleeding.”

“It’s fine. I’ll heal it.”

The last thing he caught was Hinata starting after him with an expression all too knowing and Oikawa felt it like burning skin.

--------

“What do you think happened in there,” Suga asked

“I don’t know,” Hinata muttered; but, his head was up and waiting.

He seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief when Professor Minaho stepped outside, surveying them once before dismissing them out of the room.

A second later and Hinata was out of the room and Suga was trailing behind him, mostly for lack of a better direction.

“His hand was cut; but, it didn’t look like a spell or a charm,” Suga speculated out loud. “Maybe it was an accident or maybe Minaho--”

“I don’t think it was Professor Minaho,” Hinata interrupted, eyes still searching down the halls.

“I guess it’s too obvious,” Suga said. “I’ll just ask him later.”

Hinata hummed, distracted. “Will he tell you?”

“What? Yes, he’ll--oh,” Suga sighed. “I know you’re probably worried about Oikawa from what happened last year. But, he’s doing alright. Really.”

Hinata finally paused, turning to address Suga directly.

“Are you….,” Hinata bit his lip, “Suga, are you really sure Oikawa’s doing okay? Like positive?”

Suga nodded, making his tone as reassuring as possible for the younger boy.. “You don’t have to worry; he’s doing better. And we’re here if he needs us, all of us.” He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. “Though I guess that’s what friendship is, for all of us. I’d do anything for them.”

But, instead of being reassured…..Hinata froze.

“Hinata?” Suga frowned.

“Sorry…,” Hinata shook his head. “For a second there, with the voice and all….um, there’s just someone you reminded me about.”

“Who?”

“Ah,” Hinata rubbed the back of his neck, “well….Hisa--I man, your grandfather, I guess. From the diary.”

Suga reared back the same as if he’d been punched in the gut.

No matter how much I’d imagine you’d like to set that aside.

He winced and the next thing he noticed was Hinata apologizing around him.

“Wait, Suga! I’m sorry!” Hinata grabbed his arm. “I didn’t--I mean I know you didn’t mean it like that! You just meant--”

“No,” Suga held up a hand to stop him, “you don’t have to--I’m sorry. I forgot you ever saw that thing.”

Hinata was still shifting guiltily.

So, Suga tried to drum up a smile. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not--” upset? nauseous? terrified?-- “mad. I promise.”

“You sure?” Hinata winced.

“I’m sure,” Suga told him. “You okay?”

Hinata nodded.

And then what was left was awkward tension.

“Well,” Suga tried to break it, “at least the words were different. Can’t imagine my grandfather talked much about friendship.”

Hinata stopped, face clearing. “What do you mean?”

“Just that--,” Suga waved a hand, “it’s not like it’s a secret my grandfather didn’t have anyone outside the family. I doubt that man called anyone a ‘friend’ in his entire life.”

Hinata was looking at him oddly.

“Not that he didn’t deserve it,” Sgua struggled to add hastily. “My grandfather--he did, well, terrible, evil things. I’m sure you saw--in the diary--so, I meant that--I mean it’s no surprise he died alone, so--”

“You didn’t read it.”

Suga cut off mid-sentence. “What?”

“The diary,” Hinata stared at him. “You didn’t read it. You told me you would. You promised me.”

“I--,” Suga didn’t know what to do with the strange guilt now sitting in his throat, “--I didn’t need to. I know what my family is, Hinata. I know. I don’t need to live through their memories to hate them. I already do.”

“But, you do!” Hinata shouted, a rare show of annoyance flashing through the line of his jaw. “You don’t understand--”

“I do,” Suga reached out his hand to soothe--

And Hinata jerked away.

“Hinata,” Suga said.

“No.” Hinata stared at him. “I can’t make you care, can I? Not about this.”

“I do care,” Suga promised. “Of course, I care about you and--”

“I’m not talking about me,” Hinata cut him off sharply. “I meant your family.”

Suga didn’t understand.

“I’m not my family.” It was all Suga could say.

“That’s not--,” Hinata stopped, cutting himself off with a sigh.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head once before opening them again.

“Nevermind. You don’t get it.” He turned in the direction Oikawa went. “And I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

Suga watched him go and felt like his feet were rooted to the floor.

Guilt wasn’t a new feeling when thinking of his family; but, for the first time, Suga felt it turned in a different direction and held beneath brown eyes that were normally warm.

And Suga didn’t understand why.

-------

“Hey, you’re back!” Noya plopped down next to Tanaka on the common room sofa. He had a spoon stuck in something that was a previously unknown to wizardkind mix of butterbeer, instant ice-cream, half a chocolate frog, and sweet-and-sour snakes that seemed to be writhing even as he used his spoon to gesture to Tanaka.

“How’d the meeting go?”

“.....weird,” Tanaka said quietly.

“Oh.” Noya fended off an ice-cream tentacle that tried to wrap around his arm. “Good weird or bad weird.”

“Bad weird.”

“Well, that sucks,” Noya commisorated. “Do you think she’s onto our investigation stuff?”

Tanaka shook his head no.

“Good,” Noya bumped his shoulder with Tanaka’s. “So, what’s up with you, then, bro?”

“I don’t….I guess I’m not sure,” Tanaka admitted.

And that was the problem--he wasn’t. Professor Minaho told him that he should find the things that made him; but, Tanaka didn’t know what that was supposed to be. He wanted to say his friends. He was a Gryffindor, right? So, that meant that was who he had to be. He had to be brave and courageous and, like, all the good stuff? That made sense, right? It’s what Saeko and Uncle Yori were.

But…he didn’t know if it was all he was. Sometimes he didn’t feel very brave and courageous. He felt worried and quiet and scared and….like he didn’t know if he could be a Gryffindor, coil be anything like he was supposed to be.

So, what did that make him?

He had a fear. One that existed far, far longer than he’s been a Gryffindor. The fear that waited like the bogeyman in his closet, laying in wait only until it was dark enough to attack.

“Hey, Noya,” Tanaka gripped his knees tighter, “do you think I’m like my parents at all?”

The reaction was instantaneous.

Noya’s eyes flew open. “What? No, man, of course you’re not! You’re not anything like those assholes! How could you be?!”

Tanaka didn’t know. That was what scared him. He didn’t know his parents at all. His uncle and Saeko didn’t talk about them--refused to talk about them even when he dared to ask. And, as for Tanaka himself, they’d been locked up by the time he was two; he basically couldn’t remember any part of them other than cold and a laugh that still made him want to hide.

But, they were still his parents, right? Flesh and blood. Something about him had to be like them--from the way he wore his clothes or how he ate his rice….or something worse. And he didn’t know. It could be hiding in him all along and he’d never know. Not until it was already out.

How much of them was still his responsibility?

So, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Noya watched him. “You don’t have to worry about that, Ryuu, promise.” Then, he lit up. “And, hey, if you are, it’ll be fine! If thinking about them’s bugging you, then all we gotta do is hurry up and catch them. Then it’ll be over! Right?”

Would it?

Tanaka made himself smile back anyway. “Right.”

“See! Problem solved!” Noya slapped his back.

Maybe it did make sense. Tanaka knew he needed to catch them. Had to. Before they could harm anyone else. But, as for the past….

Well, there was a reason Tanaka liked to live in the present.

He didn’t know his parents; but, he did know this. Whatever they are, they’re horrible people who hurt so, so many others.

And harm festers and multiplies. Enough that Tanaka wondered if he could ever truly stop it. Enough to bury him alive.

So, where exactly did it end?

-------

Funny enough, it was the same classroom as before.

“Hello, Hinata,” Oikawa said dryly. “Why did I have a feeling I’d be seeing you soon?”

The room had been torn apart. A localized storm tucked behind the stone.

Hinata sat down in the mess beside him. “Well, I mean it kinda doesn’t look like you tried that hard to hide this time?”

Oikawa snorted.

“You okay,” Hinata asked.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Take a guess.”

“Want me to clean this up for you?” Hinata gestured around the room.

“No,” Oikawa said. “I clean up my own messes. Thanks.”

“Okay.”

The two lapsed back into silence, the only sounds from Hinata’s occasional fidgeting and Oikawa fingers drumming against the stones.

“That was stupid,” Oikawa said, voice hushed. “Entirely stupid. I should have had better control of my magic so I wouldn’t have to break a stupid tea-cup. I shouldn’t have let her goad me. She’s going to know there’s something wrong with me now. Enough to give her stupid ‘advice’ like she knows. Like I’m some kind of--some kind of bomb or something that can’t handle my own life.”

He cut himself off, pushing his head down until it touched his knees and taking a few harsh breaths. Sparks snapped along his clenched hands before running along the stone.

“I hate her,” Oikawa hissed out. “I hate her.”

Hinata shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think she was that bad.”

“Hinata,” Oikawa warned, lifting his head just enough to glare at him.

“She wasn’t,” Hinata defended. “Maybe if you gave her a chance.”

“I think you mean an opening,” Oikawa said. “Dear Hinata with all your bottomless trust.”

“Is that really a bad thing?”

Oikawa smiled without inflection. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He reached forward to tug at a strand of Hinata’s hair, not entirely gentle. “Poor Little Red riding right out into the woods with your open arms, ready to be torn apart by wolves.”

Hinata finally did shiver at that, leaning back to knock away Oikawa’s hand. “I’m not that bad.”

“Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter either way.” Oikawa stood up, stretching his back. “Both of us are still here, aren’t we?” He gestured to the classroom, beyond that. “Waiting while we listen to them howl at the doors.”

Hinata frowned, not having an answer for once.

Oikawa took pity on him. “Well, come on, are you here to help me work on control or not?” He waved his wand and the room started picking itself up. “I was thinking about working through second year Charms tonight and I’d prefer someone around to make sure we don’t break up the castle with a stray cutting charm.”

Hinata stood up. “....Okay, I’m ready. I’ll throw up a shield if you need it.”

“Perfect,” Oikawa said, already moving on.

“But, Oikawa,” Hinata continued, “people aren’t animals, it’s more complicated than that.”

Oikawa only gave an absent hum.

“And besides,” Hinata continued, giving a half a laugh for his attempt at a joke “we haven’t gotten eaten yet, right?”

Oikawa didn’t laugh back. Instead he only felt for his magic, finding it snapping right underneath his skin.

Then, he smiled, all sharp teeth.

“Maybe,” he agreed, “what will be left behind?”

-----

The wind felt colder than it should for the last edges of summer and Bokuto was starting to kinda wish he’d brought a thicker jacket when he decided to come flying.

Honestly, though, it was more a last second decision more than anything, an itching at his heels that he thought might only be settled by taking a few laps around the Quidditch field.

It was more of a surprise than anything to look down and find quite suddenly that he wasn’t alone when he was sure he had been a few minutes before.

“‘Kaashi!” Bokuto beamed, flying down to land on the bleachers excitedly.

Akaashi jerked, startling so bad he dropped the parchment he held and staring at Bokuto without seeming to notice him. Then, he blinked and the expression faded into confusion. “Kotaro…what are you doing here?”

“Um, flying?” Bokuto answered, suddenly unsure even though he knew he’d been here first. “....so, you didn’t come out here to see me?”

“No,” Akaashi looked around the field as if registering his surroundings for the first time. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

Bokuto frowned. “What?”

“I meant,” Akaashi corrected hastily, “that I came out here to study quietly; but, I don’t know why I thought the field would be open. Especially on a weekend. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Nah, you could never disturb me ever, ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto scooted closer “Actually, I thought it was weird no one was out here, too! Like fate right?”

Akaashi grimaced before clearing his throat. “Maybe so.”

Bokuto grabbed the parchment off the ground. “Whatcha studying?”

He looked down at the paper before tilting his head. In Akaashi’s looping calligraphy, there seemed to be words at random scattered without pattern across the page: hazel and birch so close they nearly overlapped, oak outlined so many times it stood out in bold, willow flourishing out, walnut off to the side, and holly circled once in the center of the page.

Akaashi grabbed the page from his hand.

“It’s for Runes class,” he said.

“Oh.” Bokuto frowned again. “I didn’t know you did anything like that for Runes class.”

“Well,” Akaashi wasn’t looking at him, squinting off at the field, “it’s still early in the year. I’m sure it’ll make sense later.”

Bokuto….got the distinct sense he was being lied to.

It wasn’t a very nice feeling to have. Not a very nice feeling, at all, like a pit in his stomach sinking down in his entire chest. Especially because this was Akaashi, Keiji, who Bokuto thought he knew better than anyone.

So, he stopped and breathed.

Breathed through it. Tried to find the little things. Something to hold rather than falling.

And…

Keiji’s shoulders were rigid. His skin paler than normal. He clutched the parchment to his chest like it was keeping him together.

And he wasn’t looking at Bokuto. Not even a bit. Like he couldn’t. Like…

Like Keiji was scared.

That gave Bokuto an even worse feeling; but, at least it was something Bokuto could try to catch a hold on.

“....Keiji,” Bokuto asked softly, “are you okay?”

Akaashi flinched.

“I’m fine,” he promised and that was another lie.

Akaashi stood up before Bokuto could try again. “I’m going to go to my dorm to study. It’ll be quieter there.”

He turned to leave--

“Wait!” Bokuto called.

Akaashi froze.

He still didn’t turn to look back at Bokuto.

“That’s a long walk, take my jacket,” Bokuto said, shrugging it off.

He held it out and Akaashi finally turned, uncertain with his mouth already open to refuse.

“Please, Akaashi,” Bokuto’s words were quieter than he could remember before, like saying anything too loud would scare the words away. “It’s cold out.”

“Okay,” Akaashi whispered back and Bokuto tried to smile.

Akaashi took the jacket from Bokuto’s arms and, for the span of a second, cut from infinity, their hands brushed--

Brilliant as a shooting star and steady as the pull of gravity.

--Bokuto’s breath caught and Akaashi’s eyes skipped up, meeting his again with too much for Bokuto to catch in a single second. A shiver ran up Akaashi’s arm and Bokuto didn’t think it was from the wind and he didn’t think it was something bad either but, if not, he wasn’t sure what it meant, and…

Akaashi pulled away again.

“Thank you.” He pulled the jacket on, already heading off the field. “I’ll give it back.”

Bokuto breathed again, words soft. “You don’t have to, Keiji.”

But Akaashi was already gone.

-----

The table was remarkably quiet, sitting there like a stone as the rest of talk in the Hall ebbed and flowed around it.

Iwaizumi seemed to be glaring at his soup as if it had personally offended him and quite possibly insulted his mother on top of it. Bokuto, meanwhile, had taken the opposite approach and was glumly pushing his spoon around as if the bowl would suddenly turn into a pool. Suga hadn’t touched his dinner at all.

Kuroo--as the sole recipient of a perfectly boring day--was over it.

“Okay,” he announced to the quiet, “what, for the love of Merlin’s shining purple boxer briefs, is wrong with all of you?”

None of them bothered to answer.

“Alright, great, super helpful. Regular font of information you lot are.” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Let’s try this one: any of you know where Oikawa is?”

Suga winced at the same time Iwaizumi huffed.

“Who even knows,” Iwaizumi bit out. “Not like he’d ever bother to tell us. Not like I’ve been trying to find his sorry ass all day. Maybe he’s been drowned by the merpeople by now, save us the trouble of finding him!”

“Ooookay,” Kuroo responded, “so, looks like we know what Iwaizumi’s problem is. Anyone else want to share?”

Bokuto sighed, poking at a particular large bit of potato. “Akaashi.”

“Akaashi what?”

“Don’t know.” Bokuto frowned, looking even more upset than before.

Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anyone want to try having a proper conversation today? Proper sentences--verbs, nouns, all that mess. Who knows? Maybe throw in multiple sentences at once if we’re feeling particularly loquacious.”

Once again, no one responded.

“Fantastic.” Kuroo threw up his hands.

“I’m sure Oikawa’s fine,” Suga reassured…only he didn’t sound particularly convinced.

Iwaizumi grunted.

“He’s definitely fine,” Suga repeated, then nodded just for good measure. “Of course, he’s fine.”

“You know,” Kuroo said. “When I said multiple sentences, I kinda meant different ones.”

“Right.” Suga plastered on a smile. “Right, of course. It was just something Hinata said; but, it doesn’t matter…..Or, well….no, nevermind, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“What did Hinata say,” Iwaizumi asked.

Suga waved it away. “Like I said, it was nothing.” He came to a stop again. “I was only…do you think we’re missing something?”

“With the case,” Kuroo asked, leaning in.

“No, not that. Not really.” Suga bit his lip. “I just wondered if maybe we were going about this in the wrong way with Oikawa.”

The table paused, even Bokuto glancing up from where he’d been mournfully staring into his bowl.

“How,” Iwaizumi asked.

“Well,” Suga began slowly, thinking through his words, “for starters, I think Kuroo may have have been right--”

“I always am,” Kuroo interrupted, “but continue.”

“We’ve all been worried about how he’s handling last year; but, maybe we have been hovering a bit,” Suga said. “And it’s Oikawa. You know he hates that.”

“So, what we just leave him?” Iwaizumi demanded, hands clenching unconsciously. “Yeah, that’ll go swell. Or, more likely, some pureblood monster really will kill him next time.”

They all winced at that, even Iwaizumi.

“No,” Suga said quickly, “I’m not--,” a sigh, “I still want him to know that we’re there. For when he needs us. But, for the rest,” Suga ran a hand through his hair, “look, we all know this year has to be bothering him so…maybe what he really needs--what we all need--is something we can work on. Something to make us feel like normal.”

“Normal? You mean like an investigation?” Bokuto frowned, cupping a hand around his mouth to not be overheard. “Don’t we already have that with the Ghost stuff?”

“Yes,” Suga admitted, “and that’s important, too. But, it also is bound to bring up some bad memories. What we need is a distraction, something easier. Something to keep Oikawa busy. You know it’s what he likes best. Like the wandless magic last year.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “And you don’t think the insane amount of classes is enough?”

Suga lit up. “That’s my point! Being busy helps!” A head tilt. “What we need is something that won’t distract from the main investigation, something to keep busy but we don’t need to do, something we can do together so he won’t be alone,” he sighed, “....and probably something we can convince him is at least moderately helpful so we can get him to agree in the first place.”

There was a beat before--

“That still sounds insane,” Iwaizumi broke in. “Where are we even going to find something like that? And when are we going to find time?”

“Well,” Kuroo said, uncertain, “I don’t know….it’s not like we don’t have help on the investigation this time. We might have time.”

“Yeah, for our NEWT level classes,” Iwaizumi retorted. “Remember those?”

Kuroo shrugged. “Meh, I worked through most of those syllabuses back in fifth year while we had the time turner. I know Oikawa did the same.”

Bokuto was already bouncing happily. “It sounds cool to me! Something fun instead of all the serious stuff!”

Iwaizumi still frowned. “I still don’t see how this is actually supposed to help? A distraction? Isn’t that like the opposite of working things out?”

“Maybe it is,” Suga admitted quietly. “But…haven’t you ever really wanted to think about something else? Just for a little bit.”

And for that….all of them stayed quiet.

“A break,” Kuroo said firmly. “For all of us.”

They waited on Iwaizumi.

“Fine,” he sighed out. “If it helps. If it looks like it doesn’t though, we quit. No need running ourselves into the ground if we don’t have to.” Iwaizumi rubbed at his head. “The only thing now is finding something crazy enough that he’ll actually do it.”

Someone cleared their throat right beside them and, as one, they all jumped.

“For Merlin’s sake!” Kuroo yelled, clutching his chest. “Did you assholes get an invisibility cloak or something?!””

“Just good practice,” Matsu said, sliding onto the bench while Makki stood behind him. “Now, if we heard right, it sounds like you’re looking for something crazy and/or borderline illegal? Well, aren’t you lucky as we’ve got the perfect thing! Don’t we, Makki dear?”

The entire group looked at the two of them suspiciously.

Makki’s face split into a smirk. “Out of curiosity, what do you know about animagus?”

#hq at hogwarts

38 notes · View notes

sybill-the-seer · 2 years

Text

Home

TW for brief suicidal ideation

Read on AO3

“When can I start?”

Harry stood in the headmaster’s office, looking up at Kingsley Shacklebolt expectantly. Kingsley had just offered him exactly what he so desperately wanted now — something to keep him busy and occupied, something useful to do to distract him from the reality he now faced, from the horrible ache in his chest that he couldn’t stand to examine any longer.

“Likely end of August. You —”

“End of August?” Harry nearly moaned.

“Yes,” Kingsley replied firmly.

“But that’s nearly 4 months away, why —”

“You need to rest,” said Kingsley simply. “To recover. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, Potter, and starting Auror training right now will do you more harm than good. Replenishing the Auror ranks will not happen overnight. These things take time, and so should you,” he added gently.

But taking time was the very last thing Harry wanted to do. Just the thought of 4 empty months stretching ahead of him with nothing to fill his time almost made him wish he’d never left the Forbidden Forest after all. He suddenly wished he could close his eyes and never think or feel or see again, and as he closed his eyes briefly, turning from Kingsley, he felt the sharp sting of grief and guilt sweep through him once again.

He left the office and walked down a deserted corridor, the only movement coming from a suit of armor on the stone floor, stirring weakly under a pile of rubble. Almost mechanically, Harry levitated the rubble, freeing the suit of armor, which creaked jerkily to its feet, returning to its regular sentinel position in the corridor. He turned to see a large gap in the crumbling wall. Harry could see into the Transfiguration classroom through the space where the wall should have been, could see the overturned desks and scattered chalk on the floor, and thought briefly of Professor McGonagall. He had seen her earlier today as well, had heard her give him the same advice as Kingsley. Everyone seemed to want him to go home and rest, and the more Harry heard it, the more he wondered where on earth they expected him to go.

Privet Drive was out of the question, of course — the Dursleys would likely still be in hiding elsewhere, and had the Death Eaters ransacked the place while they were gone? Harry didn’t plan to go back and find out. Even if Dedalus and Hestia were already helping the Dursleys back into their home on Privet Drive, Harry knew Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would never allow him to stay there again now that he could legally live on his own. Harry found he was quite unbothered by this thought.

There was always Grimmauld Place. The thought of returning alone to the gloomy halls of his godfather’s old house filled him with increased despair, if that were possible. But he knew the place would have to be checked for threats, and security spells would have to be reinforced before he could return there. For all he knew, Yaxley could still be using the place.

That settled it then, Harry thought. He would stay at Hogwarts. He remembered how happy this would have made him only 2 years previously, but now he felt only numbness and cold. Lifting his wand again, he set to work rebuilding the crumbling stone of the classroom wall.

__________________

“Harry”

He turned to her, his normally bright green eyes dead and empty, dark bruises beneath them, and seemed to take a moment to comprehend her.

“Harry, it’s time to go home.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“Yes I can. Your family needs time to yourselves. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Weasley…”

His voice cracked, but he cleared his throat and fell silent. Molly could see him struggling within himself, and briefly wondered how long it had been since he had let himself cry. She remembered vividly, painfully, wondering the same thing when he had clung to her after that dreadful ordeal in the graveyard, as she felt him fighting to stay in control, his face screwed up against her shoulder, fingers clenched in the material of her robes.

He ducked his head then, and made to turn away from her, back toward the crumbling stone he was bewitching, but she moved forward without thinking twice. For a second time, Molly Weasley pulled Harry into an embrace. He was taller than her now, and she had to reach up to cradle the back of his head in her hand. For a second time she felt Harry bury his face in her shoulder, and this time she could feel warm tears in the crook of her neck, heard a single, shuddering breath as he once again tried to restrain the emotion before falling silent. How long they stood there in the silence, Molly didn’t know; she could feel hot tears running down her own cheeks, and she let them fall. Harry was still, but held to her tightly.

It was Harry who finally broke away from the embrace. His eyes were slightly red, but he showed no other signs of having lost control. His jaw was set.

“You’re coming home with us, Harry.”

Harry nodded, admitting defeat.

“Go get your trunk.”

“I don’t - I mean…”

“Right, that’s right,” she said hastily, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, dear. Force of habit - doesn’t feel right to leave this place without trunks in hand, does it?”

Harry gave a weak chuckle, and for a brief moment she thought she saw the barest hint of a smile.

“Come along then.” And she put her hand on his back, guiding him toward the staircase down to the Great Hall where the rest of their family was waiting.

#my writing #fanfic #harry james potter #molly weasley #mrs weasley #post battle of hogwarts #post war #angst #hurt/comfort #tw mention of suicidal ideation #what would harry do without the weasleys

44 notes · View notes

drarrypotterrenaissance · 1 year

Text

The Picture of Love

The second I saw this delightful art from @anzukero , a fic popped into my head and demanded to be written. This is fluffy and silly and I hope it's at least half as sweet as the art that inspired it 💜

“Harry’s been a bit cagey, lately, don’t you think?”

Hermione tapped another photo strip with her wand, and slid the conjured duplicates into their respective envelopes.

“Er, maybe a bit,” Ron agreed. “Although,” he added, “we haven’t really seen him much lately. I mean, he was at the rehearsal dinner and at the wedding, but we were all pretty busy then, and we only saw him the week before that when he dropped things off for us. And we’ve just been gone for another week, so maybe we haven’t seen him enough to judge it properly.”

Hermione pursed her lips as she looked at another photo strip. “We had dinner with him last night though, didn’t you think he was acting sort of odd then?”

The muggle photo booth at the wedding had been a great idea, Ron could admit, but as he searched for the envelope with Neville Longbottom written on it he was starting to regret agreeing to duplicate and send out all the pictures with everyone’s thank you notes.

“Odd how?”

“Well, you know,” Hermione glanced up, and handed Ron the correct envelope. “He didn’t say much about what he’s been doing recently.”

“Because he kept asking us about the trip! I reckon Italy was more exciting than London was for him this past week; he wanted to hear about it.”

“Yes, but he kept evading our questions about what he had been doing, too,” Hermione persisted.

“Because he wanted to hear more about our trip! I’m sure he’s fine, ‘Mione, don’t worry.”

Hermione looked put out for a second, and then relented. “Oh, alright. We’ll see him in a bit for lunch anyway, we can see if he’s back to normal then.”

Read more on ao3

Harry was not, it transpired, acting normal. When Ron and Hermione Apparated to the steps of 12 Grimmauld Place, they had to knock twice before Harry answered. After hanging up their cloaks and exchanging hugs and slaps on the back, Hermione fixed Harry with an appraising eye.

“Are you alright, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and he pushed a hand through his unruly hair, doing little to flatten it.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a bit distracted, is all,” Hermione said. “Did you forget that we were coming by today?”

“What? No! I’m fine, I didn’t forget,” Harry protested, leading them into the living room and glancing all around. “I just lost track of time, sorry. Er, shall we eat?”

But before they could head down into the kitchen, a sharp crack rent the air. Ron reacted first, his Auror’s instincts taking over.

“Did someone just Apparate into your house?” he asked, pulling out his wand and pushing in front of Harry and Hermione. “That sounded like it came from upstairs.”

“No, it must be someone at the front door,” Harry said quickly, while Hermione narrowed her eyes.

A moment later, the doorbell rang, and Harry practically sprinted from the room.

“See! Just someone at the door!” he called back as he reached the entry hall. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look before following him, arriving in time to see Harry opening the door for Draco Malfoy.

“Draco!” Hermione cried, coming over to join the boys in the hall, “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you as well,” Draco said, accepting her hug. “I trust the honeymoon was enjoyable? Potter said you took a day trip to Pompeii, I would love to hear about it.”

Hermione lit up at once. “Oh, it was wonderful! We were able to book a magical tour guide, and he told us the most fascinating things about how the preservation charms on the magical houses reacted to the ash fall, and how they’ve been modifying those charms today to continue the magical maintenance of the site!”

Ron grinned down at his wife, sliding an arm around her waist. “He hasn’t even taken his cloak off yet Hermione, give him a chance to breathe.” Then, turning to Draco he said, “Why don’t you join us for lunch - Harry always cooks enough to feed a small army anyway, and we can tell you all about the trip.”

“What do you say, Potter?” Draco smirked. “Can I join you all for lunch?”

Harry just flushed pink and nodded, before heading back down to the kitchen once more.

The rest of lunch was even stranger. Harry kept dropping things, and his cheeks grew steadily redder until Hermione checked to see if he was running a fever. Draco seemed to be silently laughing at him the entire time, although neither Ron nor Hermione could figure out what the joke was. Harry seemed anxious and on edge, and continued evading all questions about his own life. Finally, in what seemed to be an attempt at salvaging the afternoon, Draco brought the conversation back around to the wedding.

“I meant to tell you on the day, but I never got the chance to - the venue you chose was lovely.”

“Thank you!” Hermione turned to smile at Ron. “Ron was actually the one who found it, he spent an entire day visiting all the venues I had researched, and then heard someone mention one other place he might like, and he knew at once it would be perfect for us.”

“I wouldn’t have credited you with such good taste, Weasley,” Draco said, grinning good-naturedly. “Did you choose the caterers too?”

“Of course! But the photo booth was all Hermione’s idea; did you get a chance to test it out?”

“We’ve spent all morning sorting through the pictures to send them out to everyone, but we haven’t made it through the pile yet,” Hermione added.

Draco went very still, and Harry, who had just taken a sip of his water, inhaled sharply and began to choke and splutter. As if moving through a trance, Draco turned absently and hit him on the back.

“You’re looking through everyone’s pictures?” Harry asked, wheezing slightly.

“Of course! We’re duplicating each photo strip to send out with thank you notes for everyone, and we’re keeping a copy for ourselves as well.”

Harry and Draco exchanged a look that Hermione couldn’t parse.

“Do you, er, do you need any help with that?” Harry asked.

“We would be more than happy to lend a hand!” Draco added, a little too brightly.

Hermione looked at Ron, and then back at the boys. “No thanks, we’re alright. It’s been a lot of fun, actually, seeing everyone all dressed up again.”

“And we’re getting all the good gossip too!” Ron interjected, leaning in. “You’ll never guess who Anthony was kissing in his pictures!”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Draco said in cold, clipped tones, at the same time as Harry said, “I don’t think anyone realized you would be looking through their pictures, don’t spread things like that around!”

“What?” Ron laughed, as though someone in the room had missed a joke. “It’s their own fault for snogging in a photo booth at our wedding!”

“Maybe,” Draco said, in a voice so prim it seemed almost painful, “they hadn’t realized it wasn’t a private space, and they wouldn’t want to be embarrassed by you.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, but Harry interrupted their silent conversation with a worried question of his own.

“Would, um, Anthony be embarrassed?”

Draco turned to him so quickly Ron thought he could hear his neck crack.

“No! There’s nothing wrong with kissing,” he paused, “someone, but he may not want people to know.”

“Why wouldn’t he want people to know, if there’s ‘nothing wrong with kissing someone’?” Harry spat back.

“Maybe he’s just not ready to tell people!” Draco yelled.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Maybe he’s scared that people won’t like him dating… the person who he's dating!”

“That’s stupid! He's obviously head over heels for him!"

Harry’s face was flushed, and Draco had angry pink slashes of color appearing on his cheekbones. Ron looked at Hermione in panic, and she stared right back with wide eyes.

“'He's obviously head over heels for him? How on earth is he supposed to know that?" Draco huffed, and stormed over to the sink where he began washing the dishes with more force than was strictly necessary. Harry stared after him for a moment, his entire body seeming to deflate, and then he muttered, “Maybe he's been doing his best to show him, but doesn't know how to prove that he doesn't care what other people think,” and turned back around to Ron and Hermione.

There was a beat of silence where Draco went completely still while the water splashed into the sink before Hermione spoke.

“Thanks for lunch, Harry. It was really nice seeing you, and you too, Draco.” She and Ron began heading for the door.

“We’ll, uh, see you around, yeah mate?” Ron tried, but Harry only nodded and waved half-heartedly before closing the front door.

“See?” Hermione said, the second they landed in their living room. “Harry’s acting odd!”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, shaking his head. “I had no idea he would get so upset about Anthony. And Draco too, for that matter, they hardly know each other!”

“Do you think we should ask Anthony about it? I mean, maybe he knows why Harry’s been so cagey lately. Do you think they saw much of each other while we were gone?”

Hermione sat down next to Ron as she spoke, picking up her half of the photo pile to begin sorting again. When Ron didn’t respond, she looked over at him. He had gone deathly pale.

“Ron? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s Anthony that Harry’s been spending his free time with,” he croaked.

“What? Why do you say that?” Hermione asked.

In response, Ron slid her the photo strip he had been holding.

There, in three pastel-toned pictures, Hermione watched as Harry grinned at the camera with his arm slung around a smiling Draco, then turned to look at him, both of their expressions going soft and gentle, before the Harry in the third picture leaned in to kiss the clearly besotted Draco beside him.

“Ohhh,” Hermione said, “It all makes so much sense!”

#my fic #drarry #drarry fic #the picture of love

20 notes · View notes

the-al-chemist · 2 years

Text

Artemis Hexley and the Circle of Khanna

Chapter 20: The Sunken Vault

A/N: it’s time to face the final Cursed Vault, but is Artemis really ready for what’s inside? Warnings: scenes of violence and trauma, flashbacks, mild horror, mentions of murder.

Mr Maestro was as good as his word. On the final day of the month, after the summer term had already started and Bill had set off to Uganda on his expedition with Gringotts, Artemis received a heavy parcel in the morning post.

“Early birthday present?” asked Tonks.

“In a way,” Artemis replied, able to feel the frame of the lyre through the packaging. “We need to have a meeting with the rest of the Circle of Khanna. Penny, do you reckon you could let everyone know to meet at lunchtime?”

When it came to spreading news, no one was better than Penny Haywood. By lunchtime, the whole of the Circle of Khanna knew to meet at the lakeshore.

“We’ve got the lyre fixed,” Artemis told them. “We can go to the final Vault now. Not right now, Barnaby,” she added, and Barnaby stopped removing his shoes. “I mean later.”

“Later today?”

“Yeah, we could,” Artemis nodded, gnawing at her lower lip as she looked across the lake, in the direction of Hogsmeade station. “So, I know Bill isn’t going to be able to come with us, but I’ve spoken to my brother and he’s offered to help. He’s worried about how safe this is going to be, especially with so many of us going. He wanted it to be just him and me, but-”

“Typical,” muttered Merula, glaring at Artemis.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said that this is just typical,” Merula repeated. “You get all of us involved and then go ditch us to do your own thing as soon as your brother is involved.”

“Actually, that wasn’t what I was going to suggest at all,” said Artemis. “I actually told Jacob that you should come to the Vault, Merula. Rakepick trained you up just as much as she did me.”

Merula’s violet eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I mean, I did want all of you to come, but Jacob said that we shouldn’t draw too much attention to ourselves, and he’s got a point.”

“In case Rakepick is still about?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not just her. The dementors are still around, the Aurors are looking for him as well as Rakepick, and Dumbledore has told us to leave the Vaults alone. Now that term’s started again, it’s going to look suspicious, all of us diving into the lake, especially with my brother as well.”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“Some of us need to stay behind to either distract the teachers or keep watch.”

“Tonks and I can set up some distractions,” said Tulip, smirking to herself. “I’ve already got a couple of ideas.”

“Anything I can help with?” Jae asked.

“Almost certainly.”

“Well, that’s that settled,” Artemis nodded. “Anyone else got a preference?”

“I don’t mind keeping watch,” offered Badeea. “There’s an excellent view of the lakeshore from Ravenclaw tower. Andre, Talbott, you could stay with me?”

“I’ll keep watch, but I’d rather do it from the air,” Talbott said quietly. “Alone.”

“Me, Liz, Ismelda, Charlie, and Alanza can stay behind to deal with the Grindylows,” said Barnaby. “And if there’s any trouble with any baddies or anything, Diego and I can fight them, too.”

“That’s… um… great, Barnaby. Thanks.”

“Chiara and I will stay behind at the Hospital Wing in case anyone gets hurt and needs healing,” Penny suggested, looking at Barnaby out of the corner of her eyes. “I’m rather good at Wiggenweld potions, if I do say so myself.”

“And it means we can keep an eye on the statue curse victims. If they get back to normal, we’ll know you’ve managed it.”

“Good point,” Artemis nodded at Chiara before turning to the remaining member of the group. “That just leaves you, Ben. What do you fancy doing?”

Ben frowned silently, his eyes fixed on the silt at his feet. Eventually, he looked up. When he did, he looked straight at Artemis.

“I want to go to the Cursed Vault,” he said, and Artemis blinked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Ben nodded. “It seems right to go. The first time we found anything to do with the Vaults, it was you and me and Rowan. It was the three of us in the beginning, and now we are ending the Curses once and for all, I… I want to be there to do it. Actually there. For Rowan.”

Artemis swallowed and gave Ben a small smile. She looked around the Circle of Khanna, before fixing her eyes on the still surface of the Black Lake.

“For Rowan.”

With the lyre fixed and a plan in place, everything was ready. As night began to fall over the Hogwarts grounds, the Circle of Khanna took to their positions. Standing on the lakeshore with Ben and Merula, Artemis fired red sparks into the dusky air.

She shivered as she waited for Jacob, though the evening was not cold. What if he didn’t show up? What if he had been hurt, or captured, or had changed his mind? What if he let her down again? The few minutes following her signal seemed to last an age, and the longer she waited, the more she found herself pushing back her sense of panic. He would be there. He had promised that he would be there.

Jacob kept his promise. Just as Artemis was considering going down the secret passageway to find him herself, he emerged from the boathouse with his head lowered and his hood up, his wand tightly clutched in his hand.

“Three of you?” he asked, frowning at Ben and Merula, the latter of whom glowered at him. He glanced at Artemis before nodding his head. “Okay then. No time like the present. Let’s return this lyre.”

"We need to find Alanza first, she’s the one who can speak-”

“I can negotiate with the merpeople,” said Jacob, and he smirked at the confused look on Artemis’ face. “What? You really think I never bothered to teach myself a little Mermish?”

He winked and Artemis rolled her eyes as she followed him to the jetty, Merula and Ben in tow. One by one, they cast the bubblehead charm and jumped into the water. Beneath the surface, the water was just as murky as it had been earlier that month.

“Where did you meet the merfolk before?”

“Near here,” said Artemis, her voice muffled in spite of how loudly she was trying to speak. “We went that way, and then they just turned up.”

“Then let’s go that way.”

They walked along the bed of the lake, further into the deep water than they had been when the merpeople had found them before. They must have reached a settlement of sorts, presumably where the merfolk lived, for they started to see signs of habitation: huts made of driftwood, tools lain on the floor, rocks carved into statues, and strings of shells and pebbles hanging like garlands.

“It’s a village,” said Ben. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”

Either Jacob hadn’t heard Ben or was ignoring him, for he was already starting to call out in Mermish. Though Artemis couldn’t understand his words, she could hear them clearly, and so must have the merfolk, for several mermen and mermaids emerged from the huts. As a few of them picked up their weapons, Jacob spoke hurriedly, and gestured to the lyre that Artemis was holding in her arms. After a brief exchange of words and an ever briefer flurry of activity, a younger-looking merman was sent away, only to return a few moments later with the merman who had given them the lyre.

The merman eyed Jacob sceptically, and held out one hand to Artemis without saying a word. She handed him the instrument, and he examined it closely before calling to two of his peers and giving them instructions.

“We need to follow them,” said Jacob, nodding at the two merfolk. “They will take us to the Vault.”

“How do you say thank you in Mermish?” Artemis asked, and once Jacob had said the phrase she repeated it slowly and carefully to the Merchief, who inclined his head and waved her on her way.

Artemis, Jacob, Merula, and Ben travelled a long distance through the water, or at least it felt that way. The two merpeople who had been tasked with guiding them to the Cursed Vault were powerful swimmers, and it was tiring trying - and failing - to match their pace. When they eventually slowed down, Artemis assumed that the merpeople had realised that the humans were struggling to follow them, but instead they turned to Jacob and spoke to him, gesturing into the distance.

“What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

“They won’t go any further. They’re too afraid.”

The merpeople did look skittish, their grey skin paler than when they had set off and a tremor to their voices that hadn’t been present back at the village. Artemis sighed.

“So now what?” she asked, and Jacob nodded in the direction in which the merfolk had been gesturing.

“We have to go that way. They said we are looking for a cave.”

“Did they say what the cave looks like?”

“No. Only that it feels evil,” said Jacob, his face grim in the greenish glow of the water. “Sounds like it’s the right place, anyway.”

Artemis thanked their guides, who swam away even faster than they had been swimming before, leaving a rush of small silver bubbles in their wake. The curse-breakers went ahead without them, following their instructions until the outline of something tall could be seen through the dark, dirty water ahead.

“Is that-”

“The cave? It must be.”

As they approached it, the shape became clearer. It was a tall pile of stones, extending from a deep ravine in the floor of the lake towards the surface, towering over the completely still inky water around it.

“Is it just me,” said Ben, “or is the water cleaner here?”

“It’s because there’s nothing living here,” Merula replied, looking around at the now crystal-clear water. “Nothing alive wants to be near that Vault.”

“What do you think is inside?”

Ben’s question went unanswered, neither Artemis nor Merula able to think what might provoke such a strong reaction, or such a feeling of intense evil. Beatrice Haywood’s words echoed through Artemis’ mind as she looked towards the rocks.

That’s the worst one of all of them… Every time I try to swim away, it’s like I’m being pulled back down…

There was an opening within the rock formation, and they swam in, finding themselves in a wide cave, which had yet another opening to a smaller, darker cave. Stepping inside, Artemis saw that the walls were dripping, and water was pooling at her feet.

“Hang on,” she said, surprised at how loud her voice sounded. “We aren’t underwater anymore!”

She removed her Bubblehead charm and took a deep breath, feeling the stagnant, clammy air enter her lungs.

“How does that work?” Ben asked, following suit. “We are still underwater, why-”

“It’s magic, Copper, you moron.”

Artemis shrugged apologetically at Ben and followed Merula to another gap in the rock formation. She lit her wand and shone it inside, revealing yet another smaller cave.

“How long does this go on for, do you think?” she murmured, knowing fully well that the only way to find out would be to keep moving through the rocks, deeper into the system of caves.

The four of them did just that, following the path through the enchanted rocks, through the caves which got smaller and smaller, until they reached a dead end.

“This must be it,” said Artemis, and Jacob nodded. He stepped back, and gestured for Artemis to take the lead. She raised her wand. “Revelio!”

She had expected another opening to form in the rocks, or for a door to appear, like in the previous Cursed Vaults. What she hadn’t expected was the rumbling of the ground and the walls of the cave, for the whole space around her to shift, for the rocks to move so that they formed seven walls, or for a glowing golden column to rise from the centre. They had not just found the opening to the Cursed Vault, they were already inside it.

“But there’s nothing guarding it,” whispered Artemis, more to herself than anyone else. She frowned. The relative ease with which they had reached the vault made her feel uneasy. “It should be fighting back.”

“Try and open it,” said Jacob, also looking somewhat sceptical. Artemis stepped forward to touch the column, and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back forcefully. “Legilimency first!”

Artemis nodded, and wriggled free of Jacob’s grip, which had been so tight that it had left pink marks. She stared at the glowing crystal, willing it to open…

But it did not. She shrugged. “Looks like I’m just going to have to touch it, doesn’t it?”

“No, Artemis, wait-”

Jacob fell silent the second Artemis’ palm made contact with the cool surface of the column, which immediately stopped glowing. Without the glow of the column, the Vault was pitch black. Artemis frowned and waved her hand in front of her face. She could not see it.

“Jacob?” She called out, but there was no response. “Merula? Ben?”

Silence. Silence and darkness. She shuddered, suddenly feeling more afraid and hopeless than she had ever felt in her life, surrounded only by the endless expanse of nothingness.

Then, she heard a voice. She stepped towards the sound, straining to see who was there.

“Jacob?”

It was Jacob, but he was taller than before and younger looking, too. When he knelt down, his eyes were level with hers.

“I’ll be back at Christmas,” he told her, and she felt a tear running down her cheek. “And I’ll write to you every week until then, I promise.”

“Why can’t I come with you?” Artemis found herself asking, her voice more childlike than usual. “I want to go, too.”

“You will one day, Missy,” said Jacob, wiping her cheek and ruffling her hair. “Take care of mum for me whilst I’m gone.”

He stepped away from her, and a hand on her shoulder stopped her from following him. There was the sound of a whistle, and the smell of smoke, the gentle chugging sound of a train… As the sound faded and Jacob disappeared, Artemis saw a stone archway standing on a daïs in front of her. Before she could stop them, her feet were carrying her towards it.

“ARTEMIS, NO!”

A woman’s voice, and a familiar one at that. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, but no one was there. She was all alone, surrounded by doors. She reached up to open one, but it was locked. Her heart started beating fast, there were shouts and crashes behind her, and she was scared. She stepped backwards and the doors began to spin around her, so fast she felt dizzy, and she screwed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, the doors had gone.

Her mother stood in front of her, her face pale and eyes puffy. Jacob was beside her, a grim expression on his face. They both looked young, though Jacob was not as young as he had been before, when the train had been there. She frowned, and her mother nodded her head, tears welling in her eyes.

“Ma?” she asked, and Sara Hexley closed her eyes. “Jacob?”

Jacob pointed his wand at her, and the darkness returned. In the distance, fireworks were bursting in the sky. Artemis lowered her gaze, and saw Jacob on the street outside her house. He raised a hand to her and walked away to the end of the street, disappearing between the flashes of two fireworks. She was alone, and she was crying, and a blackbird was flying, flying away from her… And her mother wouldn’t hug her, or even look at her, and Reggie the Muggle was packing up his boat, and she felt abandoned all over again. The darkness settled over her once more, and something grabbed her ankle.

“Rowan, it’s got me!” she shouted, desperately trying to fight against the thick vines that were reaching out from the darkness and grabbing her, trapping her, ensnaring her…

Suddenly she was free, but when she looked down, Fergus’ tiny body was limp in her arms. She looked up, and Rowan was hit by a bolt of ice. Artemis ran to her, but she disappeared. Instead, there was a Boggart advancing on her, its face shifting between Jacob’s and her own as it moved closer through the darkness. It’s features changed again, and it was Fenrir Greyback. A red cloak appeared over it, and it raised its wand. Charlie fell to the ground, and so did Rowan. Artemis looked back and the cloak was lifted to reveal Ben Copper’s face. She shook her head, and Rowan was in Ben’s place.

“Your friends are already a part of this,” said Rowan, her eyes glazed and voice monotonous. “Before the end of this year, one of them has to die.”

A jet of red light hit Rowan in the chest and Artemis turned to see Rakepick sitting calmly at her desk, her wand pointed at Artemis. There was another flash of light and Artemis watched her wand split apart in her hands. She snapped her head back up to Rakepick, who was now on her feet.

“Crucio.”

A man writhed on the floor in front of Artemis, and so did Merula, both of them were in pain, so much pain, and they were screaming, and so was Artemis, as Jacob walked away from her again, and Bill sailed away across the lake on a boat with his friends.

“I’m not Bill,” said a voice behind her - Charlie’s voice.

“I wish you were,” Artemis said, but she didn’t mean to say it, she didn’t mean it at all, but she had said it, and now Charlie was hurt and he was walking away from her, too.

She went to run after him, but everything went dark again. That horrible feeling of unending despair had taken over her once more. She was in the forest, and it was cold. A dementor floated in front of her, and try as she might, she could not cast her patronus.

But someone else could. Rakepick. She raised her wand and pointed it at Ben, but Rowan jumped out from the trees and they both fell, and Artemis ran towards them, and Rowan was in her arms and she was gone, gone, gone…

A hand took hold of Artemis’ own, and Rowan really was gone, and so was the forest. Artemis was in the Cursed Vault, which was no longer quite so dark. She looked down at her hand and up at the person who was holding it.

“Come on, Hexley,” said Merula, pulling her across to where Ben Copper was stumbling around as if he were blind, shaking and crying silently.

Merula placed her other hand into Ben’s and though he continued to shake, he blinked at his surroundings, clearly able to see them.

“What… What was that?” he asked, a distinct tremor in his voice.

“That was the Vault fighting back.”

Artemis took a deep shaky breath and looked for Jacob. He had his hands placed to his head and was murmuring to himself under his breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered into his palms. Artemis reached out and took one of his hands in hers, and as she did, he blinked. “Artemis?”

“We need to get out of here,” said Artemis, looking at the column with contempt. “This place, it’s… We can’t stay here.”

Jacob frowned and nodded. He raised his wand and pointed it at the wall that had previously been the opening in the rock formation.

“Bombarda!”

The wall exploded, with pieces of rock flying out into the cave outside the Vault. Back in the cave, Merula quickly let go of Artemis and Ben’s hands.

“Well?” Artemis asked them. “Do you still… Has it stopped?”

Merula nodded, and Artemis let go of Jacob’s hand. The visions from inside the Vault did not return, but she still felt shaken.

“That was awful,” said Ben. “Did the rest of you see that? All the worst things that have ever happened to you?” Artemis nodded, and he frowned at the Vault. “Did you feel it, too? Like you’d never feel anything good again?”

“I felt it,” Artemis told him, before turning to look at Jacob. “We need to break the curse. How do we do it?”

“I don’t know.”

Merula blinked at Jacob. “You don’t know?”

“No,” replied Jacob, simply.

“But you’re the one with all that research! You spent all those years studying the Vaults. You spent years inside one of the Vaults. How can you not know?”

“It’s not like I could go to the library when I was stuck in there, is it?” Jacob snapped at Merula, and her violet eyes widened. He immediately softened. “Sorry. But there is a reason that I don’t know. No one does, that’s the issue. No one has broken this Vault before, if they had…”

“Then the Cursed Vaults wouldn’t still be here,” Artemis finished her brother’s sentence for him. “So, what do we do? We’ve got to try something.”

“We’ll need to go back inside,” said Jacob, frowning at the glowing column. “It would be worth you trying Legilimency again. If not, there might be a clue inside the Vault itself. Worst case scenario, we can seal it.”

“Seal it?”

“Close it.”

“We all know what sealing means,” Merula muttered. “But last time we had to open it up. How is doing the opposite going to help?”

“It will stop the curse’s effect. It’s what Patricia did after I got stuck last time. It was too late for me, but… The problem is, it means that the curse won’t be properly broken. You won’t have any more statues, but I don’t know about the people who are already statues.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” said Artemis. “We can stop more people getting hurt, look into how to get past this curse, and come back another day to save everyone else.”

But Jacob shook his head.

“It’s not that simple,” he told her. “The Vaults are sequential. If you fail to open one and seal it instead, you have to start over. That’s why I left the trail for you to follow, I couldn’t get you to free me from the Buried Vault without opening the others first.”

“But even if we do have to open them all, it will still buy us some time to find out how to break it properly.”

From the other side of the cave came a low chuckle, one that sounded familiar in Artemis’ ears and made her blood run cold. She wasn’t the only one to react. Merula’s face paled, Ben looked nauseated, and Jacob grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back behind him.

“I think it is obvious how to break the curse,” said Patricia Rakepick, stepping across the cave towards them, her eyes on Jacob, who tightened his grip on Artemis’ arm. “You can’t protect her forever, Jacob.”

“No,” Jacob said, a note of fear in his voice. “You promised not to hurt her. You promised that-”

“I promised that I would try it your way,” Rakepick told him. “You have tried it your way. Now, we go back to my plan. To R’s plan.”

“We can try again. She can try again. She can do it, she’s the one to do it.”

“Clearly not.”

“Patricia, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything.”

Jacob’s voice was almost cracking with emotion. Rakepick sighed deeply, and a flicker of something softer than disappointment entered her usually callous eyes.

“How many more people would you have die for this, Hexley?” she asked him.

“None,” replied Jacob, shaking his head “No more. And not her. Not Artemis, please. She can do it, trust me.”

Rakepick laughed, a harsh sound. “Oh, Jacob. I don’t think there’s a single person alive or dead who trusts you anymore.”

She raised her wand, and Jacob drew his, stepping in front of Artemis to shield her. But before either of them had the chance to cast the first spell, there was a shout from across the cave.

“INCARCERUS!”

With a flash of light, Merula had pointed her wand at Madam Rakepick and conjured a thick rope that coiled around her chest, binding her arms to her sides.

“Bet you wish you’d never taught us that spell, Professor,” Merula sneered, lowering her wand slowly and staring at Rakepick with look of mingled disgust and fury. Rakepick cocked a sardonic eyebrow.

“Well,” she said quietly, a smirk playing on her lips. “Looks like you can fly after all, little bird.”

Merula blinked. “What?”

But before Rakepick could answer, Ben pointed his wand at her, and silently issued a red flash of light that hit her square in the chest and knocked her unconscious. Artemis and Merula stared at him.

“She can use wandless magic, remember?” he said. “We don’t want her doing what she did in the Vault last year.”

“Good thinking,” Artemis nodded, her front teeth grazing her lower lip. “Right. We don’t have much time, so we’re just going to have to seal the Vault and hope for the best. We have to take Rakepick to the Aurors. She deserves to go to prison for what she did to Rowan.”

“She deserves worse than that,” Merula muttered, her eyebrows still furrowed deeply. “We should kill her.”

“Merula!”

“She would have done the same to you, Hexley.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it right,” Artemis said, and she turned to Jacob. “Does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” her brother agreed with a sigh. “Besides, she knows so much about the Cursed Vaults. More than almost anyone. We can’t let that knowledge go to waste, especially if you want to seal the Vault and try again another time.”

“I do.”

“Then we can’t kill her,” Jacob said, simply. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “But we could… No.”

“What?”

“Well, we could shut her in the Vault before we seal it.”

“In there?” Artemis frowned and looked at the Vault. “But, those visions…”

“It will keep her alive and on hand to break the final curse,” Jacob reasoned. “She might be more amenable to the idea of helping us after a stint in that place.”

“Or she might be even more unhinged than she is already!”

“Patricia is a lot of things, Artemis. Unhinged isn’t one of them.”

“I think it’s a great idea, personally,” said Merula. “No less than she deserves.”

“No. No one deserves that. Not even Rakepick,” Artemis said, decisively. “We do what Ben says. We give her to the Aurors. And we seal the Vault. If everyone that’s been a statue comes back to life, brilliant. If not, we can visit Rakepick in Azkaban prison and ask her how to break the curse properly another time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, let’s seal this thing and get back to the shore.”

When they returned to the shore, a still bound and unconscious Rakepick in tow, they found a larger welcome party than they had expected gathered by the water’s edge: the entire Circle of Khanna, Professors Dumbledore and Snape, and a handful of witches and wizards in Aurors’ uniforms, one of whom Artemis recognised as Mad-Eye Moody, the Auror who had interviewed her in the Hospital Wing in December. As Artemis, Jacob, Merula, and Ben emerged from the water, his magical blue eye fixed on Rakepick, and he strode over to meet them.

“So, these teenagers are telling the truth,” he said gruffly, casting a look over his shoulder at the Circle of Khanna. “Patricia Rakepick really did enter the lake this evening. Though it looks like we weren’t really needed to apprehend the criminal after all. Stunning charm?” he asked, looking between Artemis, Merula and Ben as Jacob lowered his gaze to the floor, his dark hair casting a shadow over half of his face. When the other three nodded, Moody looked mildly impressed. “Good work, Miss Hexley.”

“Oh no,” said Artemis. “It was all Merula and Ben, really.”

But Moody did not seem to care who had truly caught Rakepick, for he did not say another word before he pointed his wand at her, and she awoke looking mildly dazed.

“Patricia Rakepick, my name is Alastor Moody. I am placing you under arrest - once again - for your involvement with the criminal organisation ‘R’, and for the murder of Rowan Khanna. You will be sent to Azkaban prison until the time comes for you to be trialled by the Wizengamot for your crimes, and if found guilty, you shall remain in Azkaban for the entirety of your sentence.”

He held on to one of Rakepick’s bound arms and escorted her back across the shore to the rest of the Aurors. As he walked away, Artemis felt a hand on her upper arm.

“Artemis, look at me,” said Jacob, and she did. He bent down slightly so that his eyes were level with hers. “You trust me, don’t you? No matter what happens, or what anyone says?”

Artemis frowned, but nodded her head. “Why?”

Jacob did not reply, but he kissed Artemis on the top of her head and squeezed her upper arms before straightening up and following Mad Eye Moody, taking large strides in an attempt to catch up with the Auror.

“Wait!” Jacob called out, and when Moody stopped and turned around, he threw his wand down at his feet and held his hands up at the level of his shoulders. “My name is Jacob Odysseus Hexley. I was also involved with the criminal organisation ‘R’, and I was responsible for the death of Duncan Ashe in 1981.”

“No,” Artemis said, and realising she had said the word out loud, she repeated it, louder this time. “NO!”

But neither Jacob nor Moody, nor any of the other Aurors paid her any attention. Jacob was bound and escorted away, leaving Artemis to watch, powerless, as her brother left her once more.

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #hphm #jacob hexley #merula snyde #ben copper #nymphadora tonks #penny haywood #chiara lobosca #barnaby lee #tulip kasaru #jae kim #badeea ali #talbott winger #patricia rakepick

37 notes · View notes

mysticfoxdesigns · 1 year

Text

First || Next || Previous

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37869214/chapters/95373265

Chapter 4: Secrets Revealed

The next day came quicker than expected. Adrien had woken up, refreshed from the conversation last night. Ladybug's advice was going to be put into action that day. He was going to go to Marinette's house and apologize, if he was even let in that is. Adrien hasn't visited the bakery for a while now, but hopefully, he will be let in by Sabine and Tom.

Getting out of bed, he went about getting ready for the day. As Plagg hogged down on a wheel of cheese, Adrien changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, and acquired breakfast. Coming back to the room, Plagg let out a big belch. A wave of disgust made its way over Adrien's face before he shook his head and opened his jacket.

"Let's get going Plagg. I convinced the Gorilla to take us to the bakery."

The duo left to head to Tom and Sabine's Bakery, where hopefully Marinette was willing to see him. Waving to the Gorilla, he entered the shop. Instantly a wave of fresh baked bakery goods filled his nose. Sighing contently, he made his way over to Sabine at the register.

"Good morning Mme. Sabine. Is Marinette awake yet?" Adrien greeted, getting straight to the point. He couldn't let the delicious smell of the pastries distract him.

"Oh, she isn't here right now. She had a sleepover at Le Grand Paris last night. You're welcome to stay here until she gets back though," Sabine said, giving him her signature soft smile.

"That's ok Mme. Sabine. I was going to Le Grand Paris anyway to see Chloé after this. I can talk to her there," Adrien replied, lying through his teeth. He never planned on seeing Chloé today, but guess that is all changing.

Paying for some chocolate croissants, Adrien waved goodbye and headed back out to the car. Climbing into the car and directing the Gorilla to drive to the Le Grand Paris, Adrien sat back to think.

'Marinette is hanging out with Chloé? I thought they hated each other.'

Adrien sat in his thoughts as they pulled up to the front door of Le Grand Paris. Waving to the Gorilla, he made his way into the hotel and up to Chloé's room. Upon opening the door with his spare key, he was met with the sight of Chloé, Marinette, and Nathaniel all hanging out on one couch in her seating area. Nino and Kim occupied the other couch, while Max was on the chair with his laptop out. Aurore and Mireille were cuddling on an oversized bean bag in front of the coffee table.

Chloé looked over to see who had come in, her eyes narrowing a bit on Adrien as he stood at her doorway.

"Yes, Adrien?"

The rest of the group looked up, having their attention be brought over to the blonde. Adrien faltered a bit but straightened his back.

"I came to talk to Marinette. Alone please."

The group shared a look before Marinette stood up. Chloé immediately reached for her hand to pull her back, but Marinette shrugged it off.

"What do you need to talk to me about?"

Adrien gulped, once again faltering. What changed about Marinette? She had such a threatening yet open stance. "I wanted to talk about something I said before."

Marinette gave Chloé a look, telling her to back off. Turning her attention back to Adrien she replied, "Fine. We can go out onto the balcony."

Adrien's face lit up, delighted that Marinette actually wanted to talk with him. Ignoring the glares he received from the others in the room, he went out onto the balcony with Marinette.

"He better be apologizing to her," Chloé snapped, turning back to Max. "Are we almost ready to initiate the plan?"

"Yes. And I think we may be adding Adrien into the mix soon."

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

Out on the balcony, Adrien and Marinette sat on the furniture set. Adrien was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, unsure how to start.

"What is it you wanted to discuss?"

Taking a deep breath, Adrien looked at Marinette head on. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry for the advice I gave you," he started out.

Marinette relaxed, turning her full attention to him. Upon seeing he was allowed to go on, he continued.

"The advice I gave you was hurtful and incorrect. I am used to tabloids, and that's all that I thought Lila was. I realized too late that she wasn't like one. She caused genuine harm to you, and nothing happened because you followed my stupid advice. I am so sorry. I truly am, and however I am able to make it up to you, I will. I want to set things straight and end Lila's lies."

Adrien sat in silence after that, having averted his gaze from Marinette. He was too scared to see her face, for many reasons.

"Adrien," Marinette started, "thank you. This truly means a lot to me that you went out of your way to apologize to me."

Marinette moved over onto the same couch as Adrien, embracing him. Adrien hugged her back, sighing contently. The two remained like that for a bit, before pulling away from each other.

"Thank you for hearing me out. I understand if you can't forgive me right now, but I hope someday I can make up for everything."

Marinette smiled at him, replying "it's true that I can't forgive you right now Adrien. It really hurt me for you to give that advice and ignore everything I said about Lila. But I appreciate you apologizing."

Adrien smiled back at her, "well. I can't take all of the credit for that. I had some help from a friend last night on what to say."

Marinette giggled, "funny, I just gave some advice to a friend on how to apologize as well."

The two chuckled, remaining in silence before everything dawned on them. The pair turned to look at each other.

"Chat?"

"M'lady?"

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

"Ugh! Those two have been out there for ages! I am checking on them," Chloé screamed in frustration.

"Oh leave them alone Chloé. It's likely Marinette being awkward so in return Adrien is also being awkward," Nino replied, sending a glare at the heiress.

Chloé gave him an equal glare before standing up and making her way over to the door, "I don't care! We need Marinette's opinion on all of this planning." She swung open the door, to see the pair staring at each other in pure disbelief.

"What the hell is taking so long!" Chloé exclaimed, folding her arms over her chest.

The pair looked up in shock, a blush coming over their cheeks. "I told you to stay inside Chloé!" Marinette exclaimed, rushing to stand up. Adrien remained sitting down, looking away from Chloé's eyes.

"We need your opinion on something! Also if Adrikins is joining the court or not!" Chloé replied back.

"Wait what court?"

Marinette let out an agonizing groan, before sinking back onto the couch. "I'll explain inside. For now, Chloé, we're almost done!"

Chloé smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder before heading back inside. Adrien looked over at Marinette, but before he could say a word, she spoke.

"Patrol. Tonight, we'll talk then."

Nodding, Adrien made his way back inside with Marinette.

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

Locked up in her room, Alya was chatting with Lila over the phone.

"Maybe he'll get back to me by the end of next week. He'll realize Marinette is the bully, and we can go back to the way we were before," Alya said, speaking with a tiny bit of hope for Nino to return.

"Maybe girl. Unless Marinette has already sunken her claws too deep into him," Lila replied.

"Oh, Nino would see through her bullshit. She's a liar, plain and simple," Alya said knowingly.

Lila smirked at her friend's oblivion. Oh how naïve Alya truly was. A perfect piece to her master plan. Lila hung up afterward, scheming to herself with a wicked grin.

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

"She doesn't know what she has coming for her.”

#the color court returns #ao3 #ao3 crosspost #miraculous ladybug #mlb fic #hbic au #miraculous hbic

4 notes · View notes

romaine2424 · 2 years

Text

Wednesday WIP: Eight Days A Week

This is a section of a long M/F Drarry chapter fic. Draco is transitioning from MtF and her name is now Libelle, which means Dragonfly. Harry is with her from the beginning first as a landlord, then a friend, and then more. This section is from when Libelle has filed her name and gender change with the Ministry using a deed poll and it has now become public.

Warnings: Use of deadname and misuse of pronouns. Not betad

“Sit down,” said Robards as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. Harry complied. “Auror Potter, I’m assuming you know why you’re here.”

Harry blinked. He assumed it had something to do with the article on Libby but hadn’t a clue why Robards would want to talk to him about it. “No, I really don’t.”

Robards lowered his eyelids halfway and shook his head. “Let me tell you why, Auror Potter. An hour ago, I was accosted by a Daily Prophet reporter at the Leaky Cauldron while I was purchasing my morning coffee. They asked me how I felt about my trainee living with a Death Eater. I had no idea who they referring to until they showed me a copy of this morning’s paper. I was then informed by the reporter, not you, that Draco Malfoy resides with you and you alone.”

Harry blinked again. There was so much to unpack in his head of what Robards had just said but the thing that stuck out in his mind the most was using Libby’s now official dead name. “Her name is Libelle Malfoy.”

Robards eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his hand slammed down onto the desk. “I don’t give a fuck what her or his name is. It doesn’t change a God damned thing. There’s a Dark Mark…Voldemort’s brand on that arm. That person is someone who willingly supported Voldemort and swore a loyalty to him. And now you live with that person.”

Harry grasped onto the wooden chair-arms tightly, his knuckles whitened. “Her name is Libelle…not that person,” he spat out. “And as you know I testified about her particular case. You were there at the trial. You saw and heard the evidence. And you know my goal was to give people a second chance, to not have Voldemort destroy our futures, too. Libelle is entering her second year as a Trainee Healer. She’s the top of her class. And I don’t see any reason why I would have to let the Ministry or even my boss know that she lives with me.”

Robards shook his head. “And this is exactly why you will never be an Auror I can trust. I didn’t want you in this program after your performance at the trials, but Kingsley insisted that all of you be given the opportunity. And, yes, you’ve done well, better than I expected the last two years, but between this situation and not putting forth your name for the international exchange program, I doubt your sincerity of actually wanting to be an Auror.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry muttered. The words came out before he could stop them. “First of all, I love being an Auror and second after rethinking my initial reaction, I will be applying,” Harry said and then stood. He knew this moment was crucial with Robards, and as much as he wanted to walk out and tell the man to ‘fuck off’, he didn’t want to give Robards the satisfaction of getting rid of him. “And if you feel that you must know about my personal life to trust me then know this, Libelle Malfoy is more than just my tenant,” Harry added and then turned and walked away.

“Potter!” Robards said loudly as Harry reached the door and grasped the doorknob. Harry stilled but stayed facing away from him. “Since we’re sharing, then you should know if there's one thing I hate, it's a Death Eater who walked free”.

Harry huffed out a laugh and turned only his head. “Head Auror Robards, the last person that said those exact words to me was a Death Eater. Barty Crouch Jr to be precise when he was Polyjuiced as Mad-Eye. Good day,” Harry replied as he twisted the doorknob and walked out of the office.

“I need a drink,” Harry said to Daphne as she was waiting for him in the hallway. She followed him back to his desk.

“Did he give you shit for signing the deed poll?” Daphne asked as she perched herself back onto his desk.

Harry snorted. “No, he didn’t mention that. He was pissed that he didn’t know Libelle was living with me. You know that once a death eater always a death eater diatribe.”

“Well that’s crap.”

Will be posting when completed Summer 2022.

#wip excerpt #drarry #eight days a week #romaine fics

9 notes · View notes

messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Secrets | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Reader

Summary: Y/n withholds her past from the Order of the Phoenix but it all comes loose after one eavesdropped conversation with Sirius.

Standing in the kitchen of Grimmauld Twelve after cleaning up dinner was always a fun experience. The Aurors finally allowed themselves to relax, even if it was just for a moment. Everyone could feel the amount of ease in the room, including the children. Harry Potter always remained grateful for these moments to relax. But he was never far from the woman who raised him, Y/n Lupin.

Remus was having an animated conversation with Sirius, Nymphadora, and Mad-Eye. Meanwhile, Molly, Arthur, Y/n, and the kids all spoke together, just joking around. Y/n couldn’t believe that Harry was fifteen. It felt like yesterday when he had gotten spit up all over her shirt while she tried to feed him. It was astonishing to watch Harry grow into the man Lily and James always wanted.

“ Professor Lupin! “ The Weasley twins called in symphony making both Lupins turn their way, “ The female Professor Lupin. “ Fred specified, and Remus chuckled.

The twins pulled her away into a secluded corner, “ Did you get them? “ George queried, and Y/n scoffed, “ Of course, I did. What do you take me for? A liar? “

“ Absolutely not! “ Fred replied, “ They’re all in your room. Make good work of those fireworks. “ Y/n whispered, and both boys were jumping with joy.

They bowed, “ Only for you, Professor. “

Both boys ran off to presumably go and check their new items. Y/n chuckled at their antics when arms wrapped around her waist. A chin was rested on her right shoulder, and the scratch of scruff tickled her jaw. Caramel-brown hair fading and flecked with grey obscured part of her vision. Two hands were rested on her waist—the left hand adoring a very familiar ring.

“ What have you given those mischievous boys? “ Remus asked, “ Nothing. I’m not quite sure what you’re on about? “ Y/n answered, turning to face her husband.

His eyebrow quirked, “ Okay, I made a trip to a particular store. I got them some fireworks. “ Y/n informed, “ Fireworks? “ Remus questioned.

“ They’re magical fireworks. “ Y/n stated, “ The boys like to experiment, so I let them have their fun. “

“ And that’s why you refuse to give them detention. “ Remus rolled his eyes, “ I do give them detention! “ Y/n exclaimed, pouting slightly.

“ I lecture them about all the things they did wrong. “ Y/n added before Remus could speak, “ And then I tell them how to do it better. “ She mumbled.

Her husband laughed, “ Oh, there's the marauder in you, my dear. “

There was a prominent silence between them before Remus spoke up again, “ Have you told Harry about your former last name? “

“ No, I haven’t. “ Y/n swallowed, “ He doesn’t need to know. “

“ I think he’d like to know. “ Remus replied as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “ I think he’d like to hear all the stories about your twin brother. “

She shook her head, “ Sirius can tell him. “

“ Sirius can’t tell him everything, love. “ Remus informed sweetly, “ Only you knew James Potter since he was born. “

“ I know, I just- it’s hard. “ Y/n bit her lower lip, “ I know, darling. “ Remus responded as he pulled her lower lip from her teeth with his thumb, gently.

They stared at each other for a moment before someone interrupted, “ Y/n, I think you should talk to Sirius. “ Molly informed, and she furrowed her eyebrows, “ He showed Harry the Black Family tree. “

Molly left, and Y/n kissed her husband on the cheek, “ Talk about this later. “ Y/n whispered, leaving him.

She walked around the house. Sirius was standing in the doorway, about to close the black wooden door. Y/n only stood a couple of feet away, but he was hesitant. He didn’t want to shut the door just yet. So much history laid on the wallpaper of the room. So many awful memories. Y/n laid a hand on his shoulder gently.

“ Come on. “ Y/n beckoned as she pulled him into the room, and he shut the door behind them, “ Colloportus. “ She muttered, locking the door.

Sirius stood in front of Regulus’s name, “ Go on, speak. “ Y/n said, and Sirius sighed.

“ It was hard. Losing him, I mean. Even though we didn’t have the greatest relationship, it still felt like I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected him. He was my little brother, for Merlin’s sake. “ Sirius ranted, “ Maybe if I stayed. Maybe if I took him with me that night, this would’ve never happened.

“ Losing a brother is hard. “ Y/n began, “ It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, but people die. People come and go. Truth be told, there isn’t much you can do about it. “

“ My brother wouldn’t have wanted me to live my life suffering. That’s why I married Remus even if he wasn’t by my side. Even if he wasn’t the one walking me down the aisle like he promised. “ Y/n continued, and tears streamed down Sirius’ face, “ Harry still doesn’t know. “

Sirius turned faster than a threatened spider, “ What? Haven’t you told him? “

“ No. He doesn’t know. I’m Y/n Lupin to him and everyone else aside from the adults. “ She shook her head, “ To be fair, it feels nice. “

“ Call me daft, but it feels nice not to be Pity Potter anymore. It feels nice to be Professor Lupin. “ Y/n shrugged, “ You raised him, and you lied to him. “ Sirius retorted.

“ I’m not lying to him; I’m just not telling him the entire truth. “ Y/n corrected, and Sirius turned back to the family tree, “ You were never Pity Potter. “ Sirius muttered.

Y/n chuckled, “ Everyone pitied me after they died. Poor Y/n Potter. She lost her parents at seventeen, lost her brother at twenty-one, became an unexpected parent at twenty-one with her brother's son. People didn’t have to say ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ for me to see the pity in their eyes. “

“ When Regulus died, nobody even said I’m sorry. “ Sirius whispered, “ Nobody knew Regulus like you did. “ Y/n replied.

“ Regulus wasn’t meant to die. He shouldn’t have died. But he did, Sirius. “ Y/n stated, and Sirius turned to her with tear-filled eyes, “ And if your brother was anything like mine, he wouldn’t want you to sulk your entire life. He wouldn’t want you to ask yourself ‘what if’; he’d want you to live your life. “

She took steps in front of the crying man, her hands placed on his shoulders, “ Regulus Black and James Potter didn’t die because they wanted us to suffer. They died because they wanted us to live. “

“ So please. Live for them. Don’t let their death be in vain. “ Y/n said, taking Sirius in for a hug which he returned gratefully, “ Harry loves you. He likes having his godfather in his life. Live for Harry. “

Sirius nodded, and they pulled apart, “ Remus got really lucky. “

Y/n laughed, “ James used to say the same thing. “

When they left the room, it felt like time stopped. Everyone stared at them. Sirius and Y/n were given glares aside from the adults. The children looked betrayed. Harry looked almost in tears. The Weasley twins looked guilty. It seemed to freeze, and Remus looked stressed. Molly and Arthur looked disappointed in their children. Mad-Eye looked unimpressed. Nymphadora looked intrigued. Remus and Y/n exchanged looks, his saying everything– he found out.

Y/n coughed, “ Why- Why is everyone staring? “

“ You lied! “ Harry’s voice sounded heartbroken, betrayed, “ I never lied to you, Harry. I just- you never asked, and there was never a suitable time. “ Y/n tried to explain.

The extendable ear in Fred’s hand told her everything, and she took a breath, “ Harry, can we talk about this in private, please? “

Remus walked forward and took Harry from the shoulders, guiding him to their shared bedroom; once Harry was out of earshot, the Weasley twins stared at their Professor, “ I’m- I’m so sorry, Professor. We didn't- “

“ I’m not mad at you. “ Y/n interrupt, “ I’m not mad at any of you. To clear the rumors, yes, James Potter was my twin brother- “

Before Y/n could continue, Sirius interjected, “ And Y/n Lupin is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. “

“ She has suffered a more remarkable feat than any other witch I know. Y/n was the one who found Marlene McKinnon’s family dead. She watched her best friend bleed out right in front of her eyes. “ Sirius continued, and Y/n swallowed, looking at the ground, “ She watched Frank, and Alice Longbottom get tortured to insanity. “

“ And finally Y/n suffered losing her other half, James Potter and her sister in law, Lily Evans or Lily Potter. “ Sirius put two hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her, “ So before you glare at her, understand what she’s been through. Understand that she’s been tortured, hurt, and killed in more ways than one. “

Sirius still wasn’t finished, “ Her husband is a werewolf. Her husband has hurt her before, and she bears the scars. Her brother was killed. Her brother by choice- “ Sirius chuckled before he continued, “ Was sent to Azkaban for twelve years, and someone she trusted betrayed us all. “

“ Y/n Euphemia Potter-Lupin has endured more pain than everyone in this room combined. But Y/n Euphemia Potter-Lupin is always the one holding us together, the glue to this horrid new world we live in. So please, before you glare. “ Sirius repeated, “ Understand that she’s been tortured, hurt, and killed in more ways than one. “

Hesitantly, Y/n raised her head to see everyone almost in tears. The children weren’t meant to know; they weren’t meant to hear all the suffering she’s endured. It wasn’t their time yet. But as she looked up, she saw Harry and Remus. They hadn’t entirely made it to the bedroom before Sirius began talking. Tears trailed down her husband's cheek, remembering that faithful night he had broken his vows and attacked her. She didn’t blame him.

Hermione was fully sobbing. The Weasley boys had light tears falling down their cheeks. Molly cried in Arthur’s arms while he tried withholding his tears. Nymphadora and Mad-Eye looked astonished. Ron was brought into a hug by Hermione but remained shocked. Y/n didn’t quite know what to do from here. They had just heard her entire life story.

“ I’m sorry you all had to hear that. “ Y/n chuckled, “ I didn’t know Sirius was going to give you a biography on how the first wizarding war went for me. “

She swallowed, “ I’m sorry for keeping this secret from you guys. And Harry, because I know you’re only a floor above me right now in the comfort of Remus’ arms. You need to know that I love you from the bottom of my heart. I just- I just didn’t want you to find out and get too excited. “

“ But I’m your biological Aunt. I fought Dumbledore tooth and nail to take care of you. I remember sobbing and wailing in Remus’ arms because you were right there, right in front of my face, yet I couldn’t have you. “ Y/n explained, “ Vernon and Petunia are awful people. You deserved love, and you wouldn’t have gotten it there. You would’ve been an outsider your entire life. “

Y/n was sobbing as Sirius rubbed her back, her words choked up, “ B- But, I love you, Harry James Potter. “

Harry left Remus’s arms and ran down the flight of stairs. His arms took around his Aunt. The fifteen-year-old held onto his aunt closer than he could ever imagine. Remus walked down the steps slowly to take his place beside Sirius. Harry pulled away slightly, and Y/n wiped her face. Harry’s eyes had that glint of mischief James always had, and it made her want to sob all over again, but Harry spoke before she could.

“ What was your marauder name? “

2K notes · View notes