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zeprussia · 2 months

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Would you pretty please write a leander fic with female MC that takes place after hogwarts. He is dating her roommate, but the roommate is awful and is not nice. He and MC end up falling for each other?

Yesssss! I love this idea and I loved working on this! SO SORRY that it took me such an embarrassing amount of time to finish your request, but thank you for sending it to me!

Worth the Wait

Leander Prewett / Samantha Dale; Leander Prewett / f!MC 14.8k Words Content Warnings: 18+ Explicit content; cheating, alcohol use, fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, sex Summary: You were used to your flatmate's frequent complaints about her boyfriend, but as you got to know him better for yourself, none of those complaints made sense to you.

~~~~~~

It was over a game of Summoner’s Court with Samantha Dale during the final weeks of seventh year, when then two of you came to the decision to become flat mates upon graduating. You had mentioned how you wanted to move to London, because you had a goal of working at St. Mungo’s as a healer, but that you were worried about moving to the city on your own, and all of your close friends had plans to reside elsewhere. Samantha’s eyes had lit up, her mouth curling into a grin as she explained that she had plans on taking a Ministry position within the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and as it happened, she was in the market for a flat mate as well. You and Samantha were little more than casual friends, on the outskirts of each other's main social groups, but you got on well enough with each other that you felt fine taking the opportunity as it appeared, and that was that.

The two bedroom unit was tiny, but it worked, and had been home for the past almost two years. Despite being flat mates, you saw relatively little of each other, with both of you working full time to save for something better, the goal having been to keep the living arrangement as temporary as possible. Especially over the last several months, Samantha was absent. You knew she was seeing someone, as she would return from nights spent away with stories and complaints. This Sunday evening was no different.

Stumbling out of the fireplace in a blaze of green flames at eleven at night after a weekend spent with her boyfriend, you could smell the fire whiskey wafting from Samantha’s breath as she slumped down on the other end of the sofa with a sigh. Her bag dropped to the floor at her feet as she relaxed.

Lifting your gaze from your book, you turn to Samantha with furrowed brows. “Don’t you work tomorrow?”

She nodded and groaned before listing her head towards you, her eyes drunkenly rolling in exasperation. “He’s so dull sometimes. The alcohol helps.” She muttered lazily, slumping further into the cushions.

You shook your head. “If he’s that bad, why keep seeing him?” It was a question you’d asked her at least a dozen times over the last five months. Sometimes he was dull, other times he was clingy, sometimes he was too sensitive. You rarely heard a good word from Samantha in regard to the man she spent so much of her free time with, and it was a conundrum to you.

It was a question she usually managed to dodge, but in her inebriation she opened up. “He’s nice and all...” She slurred. “And… it’s not like I have a better option at the moment.” She replied with a shrug, nonchalantly.

“So, you’re with this man because you’re bored?” You asked, trying not to sound too judgy, though Samantha’s dismissiveness made it difficult.

Samantha chuckled, a grin on her face. “Don’t act as though you wouldn’t if you could.” She said, her speech mumbled, then back peddled. “Not saying you couldn’t, if you tried… Oh, you know what I mean. I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“I suppose it’s not my business.” You said with a shrug. You knew it really wasn’t your place to lecture her. She was going to do what she wanted regardless.

“Sure isn’t.” She grinned. “Going to bed. See you.” Samantha said and pulled herself up from the sofa with a groan, and headed to her room with staggered steps.

~~~

It was untypical for Samantha to have her boyfriend over to your shared flat, she usually opted to spend time at his place, as he lived alone. It was even less typical for her to bring him round while you were home – the small space you shared not giving much opportunity for privacy. You hadn’t even met the man the entire time Samantha had been seeing him – didn’t even know his name – as though he wasn’t an important enough part of Samantha’s life for her to bring up that detail in conversation with you.

It hadn’t crossed your mind at all that the knocking on your door Wednesday evening could possibly have been your flat mate’s mystery boyfriend.

“Are you expecting someone?” You called from the sitting room to Samantha, who was in her room, getting changed out of her work robes – the knocking coming within minutes of her arriving home that evening.

“No!” She called back from behind her closed door.

You hadn’t been expecting anyone either, so with her answer, you expected the knock to be from a sales person. You lifted yourself from the sofa and made your way from the sitting room down the narrow hallway to your front door. Looking through the peephole in your door, you were shocked to see someone you hadn’t seen since leaving Hogwarts. Leander Prewett?

“One minute!” You called from the other side of the door, through the peephole you saw him nod in response. You would have had no problem just letting him in right away, but as a courtesy you wanted to give Samantha a heads up that someone was coming in. You made your way back through your flat and towards Samantha’s room, where she was just stepping into the hall, now changed from her work robes.

“Leander Prewett is at our front door. What in the world?” You asked her with a chuckle, making your way back towards the door to answer it, curious what he wanted after so long. You stopped in your tracks when Samantha’s hand found your shoulder, her jaw dropping in surprise before her lips turned up into a seemingly embarrassed grin.

“Ohh. It’s for me, then.” She began, and squeezed past you in the narrow hall. “That’s who I’ve been seeing.” She admitted, a look of what you could only describe as embarrassment crept over her face.

You looked at her with wide eyes, as you took in this information and pieced it together with everything she had said of the man she’d been seeing. All of her previous complaints had been about Leander? You weren’t very close with him, most of your interactions having been from fifth year when various students had been assigned to show you the ropes. You remembered him as being brash at times, yet reserved and fumbling at others, never really knowing which persona was closest to accurate. Sixth and seventh year you were friendly acquaintances, chatting in mutual classes but nothing much further.

When Samantha opened the door to allow him inside you were still in the hallway, trying to make sense of it all. You had been fairly sure that the pair didn’t even like each other, at least not back in fifth year, recalling that Samantha had badly beaten Leaner in numerous rounds of Summoners Court… back then, it was him who’d complained to you about her. You shrugged the thought off, knowing that time changes things. They obviously had gotten closer at some point in the later years of school.

Snapping out of it and trying not to be so overt in your eavesdropping, you headed off the hall and into the kitchen, starting the tea kettle while keeping your ears alert. From what you gathered, Leander had dropped by to surprise her with dinner, and despite her kind words, Samantha’s tone sounded less than thrilled with his unannounced appearance. The pair chatted in the threshold for a few minutes before the sounds of their voices drew closer as Samantha allowed Leander inside, their footsteps approaching the kitchen as you readied the tea.

Stepping into your kitchen together, Samantha spoke first, an informal re-introduction. “You two know each other, if I recall. Leander’s brought us dinner.” She said casually.

You and Leander each nodded at Samantha’s presumption, exchanging friendly smiles. Leander looked both surprised and happy to see you. “I knew Samantha had a flat mate, I didn’t know it was you.” He said with a chuckle. “How’ve you been, MC?” He asked.

“I’ve been quite well, thank you, and yourself?”

“Couldn’t be better.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around Samantha’s waist affectionately. His other hand held a fairly large brown paper bag. “I hope it’s not an imposition that I stopped by. As Samantha said, I’ve brought dinner, for all of us.”

“Of course it’s no imposition.” You said and invited him to sit at the table. “Tea?” You offered, and he nodded politely after taking a seat.

Samantha, having taken the bag from him, set it on the kitchen counter and pulled a large ceramic container from it. Clearly the bag had been enchanted to accommodate the large and heavy looking contents. She gathered dishes to eat with, while you served tea for the three of you. You shot Samantha a look, a grin that went to your eyes along with a subtle approving nod at his gesture, communicating silently to her, and perhaps trying to convince her – this is a good man. The half-hearted grin she gave you in return left a bad taste in your mouth.

The meal appeared to be a beef stew, still steaming hot as Samantha served it into bowls. “I didn’t know you cooked.” She complimented, smiling at Leander as she brought the bowls to the table, the three of you sitting down to eat, now. “It smells wonderful.”

“Actually, it’s my mum’s cooking. She turned up at my flat not thirty minutes ago with this massive pot. I told her I could never finish it all before it would go bad but she wouldn’t hear it, you know how mums can be. So, I thought who better to share it with.” He said, smiling adoringly at Samantha as he spoke. “I wanted to come by while it was still hot. I do apologize for showing up unannounced.”

“Of course.” Samantha nodded, tasting the stew. She gave the dish an approving nod, though learning that he didn’t prepare the meal himself seemed to have dulled her previous enthusiasm. “Well your mum is a lovely cook. This is delicious.” You said, thoroughly enjoying having the night off from cooking, something you and Samantha took turns doing. Tonight would have been your night. “I’ll let her know you both enjoy it. If there’s one thing she’ll never tire of, it’s people complimenting her cooking.” Leander said with a chuckle, dipping his spoon into the stew and eating.

For not being how you had anticipated spending your evening, it went well. Leander only spent about an hour or so visiting following dinner, worried about overstaying an unannounced appearance, though neither you nor Samantha had other plans that evening. Regardless of the short duration of his stay, you enjoyed catching up with him. You’d learned that he, like Samantha, also worked for the Ministry, though in separate departments. He currently held a position in the Improper Use of Magic Office. The longer the three of you talked, the more confused you were of Samantha’s frequent complaints of this man. He’d clearly come into his confidence, not coming across as overcompensating or nervous as he had in school. He held a good job, and clearly cared a lot for Samantha.

You silently reminded yourself that Samantha’s reasoning for dating Leander was not your business, after he left for the evening, when Samantha let out an audible sigh as she made her way back to the sitting room after walking him out.

“Sorry.” She said, looking apologetic as she sat back down on the sofa, idly fidgeting with the throw pillow beside her

“For?” You asked her, utterly confused on what she could be apologizing for.

“Unexpected company, having to entertain on no notice.” Samantha explained, her voice sounded drained, as though she’d just dealt with something arduous and unpleasant. As though the surprise of her own boyfriend coming by with a home cooked meal was anything other than kind and thoughtful.

“It hardly felt as though we were entertaining him.” You waved her off, assuring her. “Though, I am curious why you didn’t mention it was Leander that you were seeing.”

Samantha shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important, it’s not serious.” She said simply, her tone indifferent.

“He seems serious.” You retorted with a smirk. You didn’t want to argue with her, it was her relationship after all, but it was obvious, at least to you, that he seemed to be on a very different wavelength than Samantha was.

She sounded exasperated, “It’s only been a few months.”

“Right.” You disagreed with her definition of ‘a few’ but that was neither here nor there. You nodded, acknowledging her reasoning, leaning forward to the coffee table to grab the book you’d been reading lately.

Only a beat had passed before she groaned and started venting to you, sounding as though she was looking for your validation of her opinions. “Am I alone in thinking it’s… immature for him to have his mummy cooking him food and delivering it to him? And coming by unannounced...”

You laughed out loud. “Surely you’re joking? I’m sure he didn’t ask her to cook for him. You’re the one spending weekends at his flat, is he immature?” You asked her, looking at her inquisitively. When she didn’t reply after several seconds, you spoke up again. “It sounds like you’re actively looking for flaws to take issue with... Dropping in unannounced is one thing, but you’ve been seeing him for months, and I’m sure he thought you’d enjoy the surprise.”

“You’re right.” She said. You were unsure for a moment of which point she was agreeing with, but then she added, “Maybe I am just looking for flaws in him.”

Well, her admitting it was a start. You’d hoped that her realizing this point would lead her to either be more appreciative of this man who is clearly putting in effort, or, stop leading him along like a puppy and cut him loose.

~~~

It was just two weeks later when you found Leander at your doorstep again, though this time, you’d expected him. Samantha had let you know before she left for work this morning that he’d be over after work to pick her up, as they’d be heading out to dinner together. He’d arrived nicely dressed, and with a bouquet for her, and was visibly confused when you answered the door rather than his girlfriend.

Between now and your last conversation with Samantha about her love life, she’d stopped complaining about Leander, and the only assumption that you could draw was that her opinions of him were improving. You were very surprised that she wasn’t home from work yet when he came by to meet her.

“Hello, MC,” he smiled and nodded to greet you. “Is Samantha ready yet?” He asked after you opened the door for him.

“She’s actually not home from work yet.” You told him, your brow furrowing in commiseration for his evening not beginning as expected.

“Really?” He asked, his voice that of disbelief.

“Sorry… I’m not sure exactly when she’ll be back. She hadn’t mentioned needing to stay late, so something must have come up.” Your voice was soft and you had a look of sympathy on your face for him, as he was clearly put off by the whole turn of events.

He didn’t respond for a beat, looking at you with confusion, unsure of what the best move would be. “Umm… Well…” He began before trailing off again.

“You’re welcome to come in and wait for her, if you want to. And we can get those into a vase.” You offered, and gestured at the flowers.

“If that’s really alright, I’ll take you up on that. But I wouldn’t want to impose. Are you sure?” He said, sounding a little hesitant.

“I promise, it’s no bother.” You said and stood aside, gesturing for him to come in. He gave you an appreciative nod and stepped inside. “Alright let’s find a vase.” You said and led him into the kitchen. After a quick search through the back of one of the cabinets, you pulled out an old glass, which you transfigured into a suitable vase with a flick of your wand. You added water and he added the flowers, and you set the vase on the counter.

“I appreciate that.” He said.

“Mhm. She’ll love to see those after a long day at work.” You told him as you leaned back against the counter whilst you chatted.

“Is it often that Samantha works late?” He wondered, standing in the doorway to the small kitchen, resting his shoulder against the frame, his arms crossed casually.

“It happens from time to time, especially lately it seems.” You said, thinking back on the last few weeks. “But anyway, can I get you some tea while you wait?”

“No, no. I really don’t want to trouble you.” He said, waving the suggestion off, shaking his head. “You just… carry on with whatever you were doing and don’t let me bother you.”

“It’s not trouble. Are you sure you don’t want anything? I think tea sounds good right now. I think I’ll make some either way.” You said.

“Well… If you were going to make some tea for yourself anyway, I suppose I could take a cup.” He said with a grin. “Thank you, MC, again, I appreciate you letting me come in and wait.” He added. “Hopefully she wont be long.”

��Hopefully, but you’re welcome to wait as long as you’d like. I was just reading. You aren’t interrupting anything.” You said as you filled the tea kettle with water with a flick of your wand and sent it gliding through the air to the stove top, another point of you wand lighting the flame beneath the pot.

Several minutes later, after some idle chit chat about how your respective day had gone and about the weather, the two of you retired to the sitting room with your teacups. Leander took a seat on the arm chair beside the sofa you sat down on, and sipped the drink.

“When Samantha does end up working late, does she typically send an owl?” Leander asked you as he crossed his legs and got comfortable in his seat.

“No, I don’t think she’s ever sent notice, honestly.”

“My apologies for quizzing you – but, on her late evenings – when does she typically arrive back home?”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, Leander.” You assured him. You completely understood his line of questioning. “It varies. Sometimes an hour late, but occasionally more. Always with rather entertaining stories of whatever outstanding catastrophe kept her busy.”

Leander hummed and nodded his head, a faint look of disappointment on his face to hear that he may be waiting awhile. “May I?” He asked and gestured towards a copy of the Daily Prophet that was sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

“By all means. Like I’d said, I was just reading a book when you arrived, anyway. I can get back to that, then.”

Leander got up to grab the paper before settling back down in the armchair, and you reached for your book once again, picking up where you had left off before. The silence in the room while the two of you read was only mildly uncomfortable to start. Leander had the paper folded open for only a few minutes before he laid it on his lap to sip once again on his tea, and you noticed his gaze lingering in your direction while he drank… Though he wasn’t exactly looking at you.

“Hm?” You hummed, drawing his attention to your face.

“Oh, your book.” He said, gesturing to the hard bound copy of a large muggle book entitled Moby-Dick on your lap. “I didn’t know the Hero of Hogwarts was such an intellectual.” He teased.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading… I couldn’t very well duel and fight all the time.” She said with a smirk. “And don’t call me that.” She added, rolling her eyes, though her tone was light.

“Oh? Tired of that title? Fair enough.” He smirked.

“Have you read it?” She asked, nodding down at her book and ignoring the reminder of the title she’d earned in fifth year that seemed to continue following her around despite her best attempts at normalcy.

“I have. We can discuss it once you’re finished.”

“I’d like that.”

He nodded and gave you a smirk before turning his attention back to the Daily Prophet. You resumed your reading, slowly sipping your tea, hyper-aware of the quiet ticking of the antique clock mounted on the wall above the fireplace, as you turned page after page after page… Samantha was very late.

You were sure more than an hour had passed since you let Leander in to wait for his girlfriend, and with every passing minute you felt increasingly bad for him, as you racked your brain for the right things to say to him. It was well past dinner time, and Samantha had still not arrived or sent an owl.

Leander sat tapping his foot, you looked up from your book to notice him checking the time with his pocket watch against that of your clock, as though he was unbelieving of his current situation. The man looked anxious, not dissimilar to the teenager you knew in school.

You had to say something at this point, to try to ease the tension for him, to break the silence thick in the room. You’d thought back to your own dinner plans. You hadn’t counted on cooking for just yourself since you were anticipating being on your own for supper. You were going to treat yourself to a meal out at a local pub.

You cleared your throat before you finally spoke up. “You know, I was going to get something to eat at this pub around the corner.”

“Oh, gods MC, I am so sorry, I’m impeding on your dinner now. I can go, just… just tell Samantha I came by and to send an owl when she gets back home.” He said, speaking quickly, his tone apologetic. He shut the paper and tossed it gently back to the coffee table as he stood up, as though preparing to leave.

“Actually I was going to ask if maybe you’d like to join me?” You asked as you stood as well, closing your book and laying it on the arm of the sofa.

You noticed Leander’s face go immediately red at the invitation. A dinner alone with his girlfriend’s flatmate certainly did not sound appropriate to him at that moment, and his facial expression gave away his thought process to you. You regretted the proposal almost instantly, but you were already committed to the invitation so you stuck to it. Was it really so wrong to ask?

“We could just catch up some more and grab a quick bite. I didn’t stop for groceries, I hadn’t planned on cooking tonight thinking that Samantha would be out with you for dinner. And well.. I need to eat but it doesn’t feel right just telling you to leave when you’ve been waiting for Samantha for so long.”

Leander looked at you quizzically, but was weighing your offer. “What about Samantha?” He wondered, folding his arms as he debated.

That was the dilemma wasn’t it?

“I’m not sure.” You said and shrugged your shoulders. You had a lot of things you wanted to say about the situation itself and about Samantha in general. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. “You’re free to keep waiting while I go, if you don’t want to come.”

“You know what, I’ll come.” He decided. “I’m hungry… I’m… annoyed. And having dinner myself at home certainly won’t make me feel any better.”

“Well then. I’ll lead the way. The place is just around the corner.” You say as you head towards the front door of the flat.

Leander followed behind you as you headed out into the streets of London, but stopped before rounding the corner, looking behind him over his shoulder, clearly hoping to catch sight of Samantha, but there was no one. Waiting a few steps in front of him, you watched him shake his head, clearly disappointed, before catching up with you.

“I’m sorry.” You said as he walked beside you the final block to the pub.

Leander let out a half-hearted “mhm” as the two of you approached the pub, he pulled the door and held it open for you. Taking seats at the bar counter, the two of you ordered butterbeers while he looked over the chalk scrawled food menu on the wall behind the counter.

Raising his pint glass, Leander’s tone shifted towards something of amusement. He chuckled and shook his head before saying, “Well this is odd isn’t it? I don’t think we’ve ever shared a drink together.”

You thought on it for a moment before smirking and nodding in agreement. “You’re right, we haven’t. Cheers, then.”

“Cheers.” Leander grinned. Clinking your glass to his, you sipped your drinks, and made some small talk until the bartender interrupted to take your food orders.

It didn’t take long for you to forget your intentions of making this a quick outing. Your meals had arrived when you were each on your second drink, conversation flowing easily as you reminisced on your not so long since passed Hogwarts years. The more you spoke the more you wondered why you weren’t closer friends with Leander back in school. Hearing his stories from his time at Hogwarts, there was definitely more to him than had met your eye back then… Furthermore, you wondered what the bloody hell Samantha was talking about all of the times she had spoken poorly of him. He was funny, engaging, witty, and confident enough to poke fun at his previously awkward teenage self. Not to mention charming… and handsome.

Not ready to head back immediately following your meal, you each ordered a third butterbeer just for good measure, and carried on conversing about school, quidditch, work, life. It was Leander doing a double take on his pocket watch, a laugh falling from his lips at the shock of more than two hours having passed since you arrived that finally prompted the two of you to call for the cheque.

“What are you doing?” You ask as Leander snatches the cheque before you could even get a look at it. “What do I owe?”

“You don’t.” He said. “You’ve been too kind to me, letting me wait in your flat for Samantha for so long, making me tea, letting me impose on your dinner plans. I’ve got it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pay for myself.”

“So stubborn, MC. I absolutely insist.” He said as he pulled a few galleons from his pocket and laid them on the counter. “Now, will you let me walk you back to your flat? It’s getting late.”

Charming, handsome and a gentleman.

You nodded. “I’ll allow it.” You chuckled. “You can pop back in, surely Samantha will be home by now.”

“I‘d appreciate that.” He said.

The two of you left the pub, and took the short walk back to your flat. It was dark outside now, dim light filling the streets from the lamp posts lighting the way. You were surprised when you unlocked the door to your flat and saw that the lights were off, as though no one was home. Not wanting to jump immediately to conclusions as you walked through your silent flat, you knocked on Samantha’s bedroom door while Leander waited in the kitchen. You assumed that maybe she had come home and laid right down. When after a few moments she didn’t call out or answer the door, you cracked it open just slightly, peering inside. She wasn’t home.

You closed her door and headed back down the hall and to the kitchen where Leander was leaning back against one of the counters with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “She’s not in there.” You told him. “I’m sorry, Leander.”

He shook his head, the disappointment and confusion apparent on his face. “You think she’s alright?” He wondered. He began to pace, fidgeting with his hands. Something about his stance and actions transported you right back to fifth year. This anxiousness of his was familiar to you. “Something serious must have happened in her department, then, right? I mean why else would she not be here yet? To just not show up when we had plans. Do you think-”

“I’m sure she’s alright. Probably just a staffing issue.” You suggested, cutting off his uneasy rambling. Honestly had no idea of what could have possibly been going on. You just wanted to reassure the man standing in your kitchen. “I’ll tell her to send you an owl as soon as she gets home.”

“Right, thank you again MC, for your hospitality. I'll just be going then. It’s getting late after all.” He said, talking quickly now, and heading back down the hall and to your front door. You followed behind him, seeing him out.

Standing in the door frame as he headed down the front stairs of your small porch, you found yourself speaking without having considered the words before they left your mouth. “I had a nice time with you this evening.”

You felt the warmth of embarrassment in your cheeks the moment the words left your mouth. You wondered why you had said that. He hadn’t been in your home to spend time with you. He was merely waiting on his girlfriend. Your flatmate. No matter their truth, if you could have sucked your words back out of the air, you would have. Leander stopped and turned around on the stairs, looking up at you, you saw his lips curve into a subtle grin.

“Me too.” He said. “All things considered, it was a rather pleasant evening.”

Him returning your sentiment while not sounding like he’d spoken out of pity or to ease your clear embarrassment, was a bit of a surprise to you. He was too kind. Much too kind to be wrapped around Samantha’s fingers, you thought.

The eye contact held between the two of you, remaining even after he’d spoken, was too much for you to keep up with for another second. “Goodnight, Leander.” You said, putting an end to the exchange you shouldn’t have started to begin with.

“Goodnight, MC.” He said, showing off that damn grin of his again before he nodded and turned, heading down the final stair onto the sidewalk, and away from your flat. You shut and locked your front door, leaning back against it with a sigh when he was gone. You shook your head, willing yourself to snap out of whatever delusion had you believing that it was appropriate to think of your flatmate's boyfriend in the ways you’d begun to as of late.

~~~

Samanatha was still not home by the time you’d readied yourself for bed that night, but the following morning, you awoke to the sound of the tea kettle whistling on the stove top, and you knew she was back. Pulling yourself from your bed, you headed to the kitchen, curious what had ended up keeping her so late last night. You knew it wasn’t really your place to question Samantha, but you couldn't help but let your curiosity get the best of you this morning.

Walking into the kitchen, you leaned against the wall, facing her, watching as she pulled the lid off the tin of chamomile tea on the counter. She looked as though she’d been up all night.

“Rough night at work last night?” You asked her.

“It was very busy.” Samantha replied, not even looking up at you when you spoke, but keeping her attention on her tea as she prepped it. Her short tone immediately gave you the impression that she was not interested in having this conversation at all.

You let out a short hum in acknowledgement at her statement, then cut right to the chase. “I told Leander I’d tell you to send him an owl when I saw you.”

“I already sent him one.” She said, glancing at you letting out a small huff as though annoyed. “In fact, he sent me an owl before you were even up.”

Samantha leaned against the counter opposite you, waiting on her tea to steep. “His brute of an owl was pecking at my window before 7AM. I’d still be asleep if it weren’t for that damned bird.” She added and shook her head in displeasure.

“He was worried.” You said, justifying Leander’s actions on his behalf, unable to blame him for reaching out to her this morning, even if it was quite early for an owl on a Saturday. “You stood him up. He thought something bad had happened to you.”

“I was busy. At work.” Samantha said, emphasizing her excuse but offering no further explanation as to what specifically held her up.

You couldn’t help but feel Samantha was being disingenuous with both her short response and her dismissive body language, casually drinking her tea as she spoke. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world over the fact that she’d upset her boyfriend with her unexpected absence from their date night

“Still, you could have sent him an owl and let him know you wouldn’t be home to meet him, couldn’t you have? It wouldn’t have taken more than a few moments.”

“But I didn’t, and it’s a new day. I replied to his owl. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” She said shortly, leaving no room for further discussion. She took her tea and headed past you and down the hall towards her room.

“Are you going to be home this weekend, then?” You asked her before she disappeared behind her door, your nosiness getting the better of you, you could tell from her facial expression when you’d asked.

“Yep.” She replied, increasing annoyance at your questioning in her voice. She shut the door behind her as she retreated into her room, leaving you in the kitchen with more questions than you had answers for. You sighed, your mind wandering.

Did they argue in their letters this morning? Are they even still together? Why do I care so damn much? The last thought weighing heavy this morning.

Not two minutes later, while you were still in thought in the kitchen, Samantha reemerged from her room, this time with a question for you. Her arms were crossed as she stood in the doorway between the hall and kitchen.

“You said he was worried. So worried he’d thought something bad had happened to me?” She began, her tone incredulous.

You nodded, recalling how anxious Leander had gotten by the end of the night, when she’d left him wondering and questioning for hours after she was supposed to have met with him.

“Hard to believe that would have been his immediate conclusion, even with how terribly anxious he can get. His letter said he waited awhile, hoping to see me. So, just how long was he here with you last night?” She asked, her question sounding almost like an accusation of wrongdoing on your part. You’d never heard Samantha sound this way over him before. As though she might have actually cared that you’d been alone with him.

“It was a few hours. I’m not even sure what time he left.” You answered honestly, curious the reaction this would get from her.

She looked shocked, though not angry with this information. If you hadn’t known better given the situation, you could have almost sworn you’d seen some faint amusement behind her eyes. “Sounds like he wasn’t as lonely as he’d let on in his letter, then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He was waiting for you.”

“Nothing.” She said, and smirked. So… she had been amused… It struck you as odd and unfitting. “It’s fine. I hope the two of you had a pleasant time catching up.”

“We did.” You confirmed, trying to keep your face from looking absolutely smug, but your tone conveyed that she should, in fact, be jealous that you got the time she missed out on with her boyfriend.

“Right, well, I’m glad.” She said, sounding too sincere for the scenario. “I’m exhausted, work was busy, as I said. I’m going to lay down.”

~~~

The next week brought more late nights at work for Samantha, and aggravation for you, as you were left with more responsibilities around the flat in her absence. During your twelve hour shift at St. Mungos on Saturday that week you found yourself hoping that your flatmate spent at least part of her day off back at home cleaning up the place a bit. You were feeling poorly and the last thing you wanted was to come home from such a long shift to a flat that needed cleaning.

However, as your morning went on your prevailing thought shifted to simply surviving your shift, as you started feeling worse after your lunch break. You must have looked ill, because the matron healer on your shift noticed your condition as soon as you’d met with her to discuss afternoon rounds. The older woman took one look at you, noting your pale and clammy state, and ordered you to go home and rest, sending you out the door with a bottle of Pepperup potion in hand.

When you apparated to your doorstep, you were no longer concerned with the state in which you’d find the flat, but rather just getting into your bed, drinking your potion, and sleeping whatever this is, off.

You strode through your front door with a groan, immediately starting to complain about how you felt, knowing Samantha was somewhere in the flat to hear you. You heard her muttering something or other from the living room as you headed down the hall and towards her voice.

Rounding the corner into the room, you dropped your vial of Pepperup potion in surprise when you saw Samantha. The glass shattering on the floor was what drew her attention to you, and you realized the muttering you’d heard hadn’t been directed to you at all, but to the man whose lap she was sat atop on the couch. A man who was not Leander.

“MC! I- I didn’t expect you home so soon. You- I thought you had a twelve hour shift today.” She sputtered, looking as though she’d seen a ghost, likely as pale as you were with your ailment.

“I was feeling poorly, and got sent home early.” You said flatly, your mouth hanging open, staring at her as she scooted off the man's lap and stood up from the couch. You didn't recognise her company, but the emblem on his shirt when he stood up beside Samantha had shown that he was a coworker of hers in the ministry. “You and Leander-”

“We broke up. Last week.” She said quickly, cutting you off from finishing your question, though her response had covered the answer you were looking for.

You nodded at her explanation, relieved to hear you hadn’t just caught her cheating, though you wondered why she hadn’t talked to you when it happened. You weren’t that close but you’d have thought a break up would have come up in conversation at some point. You also couldn't help but find it a bit odd that she already had another man in your shared home only a week out from her breakup, but this was neither here nor there. You shifted a bit awkwardly with the scene you’d stumbled in on, wondering what the final straw was for Samantha, or if she’d simply found, in her words, ‘a better option.’ Regardless, you were glad Leander was free of her. You’d thought for a while now that he deserved better than your overly critical flatmate.

“We’ll just head to my room and let you rest, then, you look poorly.” Samantha said, and pulled her wand from her pocket, vanishing the mess of shattered potion at your feet before leading this new man across the living room and towards her bedroom.

“I need to go replace that, actually. I won’t be long.” You tell her, and she nodded in goodbye before disappearing behind her bedroom door, while you head back down the hallway, and apparate with a crack from your door to Diagon Alley.

The shop lined streets were loud and crowded, especially with it being a Saturday. Diagon Alley was typically a place you loved the atmosphere of, but with your head pounding and your body feeling clammy and tired, you wanted to get what you needed and leave as quickly as possible. You dodged people left and right as you made your way down the street to the Apothecary, your head down in an attempt to keep the sun out of your eyes, the bright rays making your headache that much worse.

Finally making your way into the Apothecary, you navigate your way through the narrow aisles of ingredients to the back of the shop where ready prepared potions were kept for sale.

“Excuse me.” You say politely to the tall gentleman standing directly in front of the section containing the Pepperup potions you were looking for, blocking them from your reach.

“Oh, my apologies.” He said and shifted a step to the side and out of your way. It was then that you realized his voice was one you recognized. Stepping up from behind him to stand at his side, you look up and grin softly at Leander, a bottle of Pepperup potion in his hands, reading the back of the bottle.

“Are you coming down with something as well?” You ask him, picking up a bottle for yourself.

With your question, he finally shifts his eyes away from the label on the bottle and to you, his eyes widening slightly as he nodded. “I blame you, actually. You must have gotten me sick after dinner last week.” He teased, his face pale and clammy looking like yours, his cheeks lacking their usually rosy glow.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t feel well enough to argue so I suppose I’ll take the blame. I’m always catching these little bugs from my patients in the hospital.” You say, pausing for a moment in thought, wondering if it would be too much to bring up his recent break up. Having the information on your mind made you want to offer condolences.

“Well I hope you’re feeling better soon.” He says, before you had come to a decision on whether or not to say more.

You nodded, shifting to face him and deciding to just go with it, your face softening as you spoke. “You too. And, I'm sorry about you and Samantha. She told me this afternoon.”

Leander’s eyes narrowed, his brows pulling together in confusion as he tried to make sense of your words. He tilted his head slightly to one side as he pondered. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” You asked him, wondering how he could possibly not realize what you were talking about.

“MC, what exactly did Samantha tell you?” He asked, his voice sounding impatient for the information.

You swallowed hard, your palms starting to sweat as they gripped the potion bottle a little bit tighter. From his reaction, you were beginning to realize Samantha may not have been being honest with you earlier. “She said that the two of you broke up last week.”

Leander scoffed, looking absolutely taken aback. “She told you that we broke up? She told you that today? In person?” He asked, shifting his weight and shaking his head, his hand at the back of his neck in agitation.

“Did you not break up?” You ask him first, needing to know the truth before answering his other questions.

“No! We didn’t break up, we’ve never broken up!” He emphasized. “She told me she couldn’t see me this weekend because she was going to be out of town visiting her family.”

“Oh gods, I’m sorry Leander.” You say and groan, looking even more remorsefully at him than you had initially when you’d thought he’d just been through a breakup. “Yes, she told me today, in person” You said and shook your head. You were furious with Samantha for doing this to him, for lying to you, and that you were now in this position, feeling morally obligated to give him the truth.

“Let's pay for our potions and go outside, there is something else I should tell you.” You suggest, wanting to get the two of you out of the cramped shop before breaking the rest of the news to him, not wanting to bother the shopkeeper or other patrons.

“Bloody hell. Fine, let's go.” He said with a sigh and led the two of you to the counter where each of you checked out in silence before heading outside.

“What is going on MC? You’ve got my stomach in knots here. Just tell me.” He urged you as the two of you walked the cobbled street together, turning down a quieter alley off the main row of shops. He leaned his back against the brick side of one of the buildings, antsy, fidgeting with his bag after stuffing his bottle of Pepperup potion into it.

You took a deep breath, gathering your words and preparing to tell him everything he deserved to know. “She was in the flat with another man when I came home from work earlier.” You tell him, and he swore under his breath. Your own stomach was twisting, you hated being the one to break this to him. But he needed to know. He deserved better. “She was sitting in his lap when I came in. She was startled to see me, and when I left to get my potion, they went into her bedroom. I’m so sorry Leander.”

“She’s cheating.” He said softly, his head leaning back against the rough wall behind him as he let out a groan. “I appreciate you telling me. I’m glad I ran into you today.” He added, tilting his head to look down at you as you stood off to his side, leaning against the wall beside him.

You nodded. Though you didn’t see anything explicit happening, the fact that Samantha had been in the man’s lap and had lied and told you her and Leander had ended things was confirmation enough. She was doing something wrong and she knew it, and you had caught her.

“It’s a coworker of hers.” You told him. “I saw her department’s emblem on his shirt.”

He let out a huff of a chuckle at this information, staring ahead as he tried to piece this news together with thing’s Samantha had told him in the past. “She was never working late, was she? The night she stood me up. I was so worried, and she was with someone else.”

This was something you hadn’t considered, but now that he’d asked, it made all too much sense. “I don’t know, honestly. Her and I aren’t actually that close. She would never have talked to me about it, if she was seeing someone else. I’d have told you sooner if I knew.”

“Would you have?” He wondered, glancing back down at you, one of his brows raising.

You nodded. “You deserve better. That much I’ve thought for a while now.”

“Alright.” He said with finality and leveraged his body forward, stepping away from the wall. You got the feeling you’d said a bit too much for him at the current moment. You didn’t regret it though. In your opinion, he needed to hear it. “Well. I need to head home and drink this potion, and so do you.”

“Right… Sorry, again.” You offered.

“Don’t worry yourself about it MC. I’ll be fine.” He said bidding you goodbye, and apparating away before you had the chance to say anything else decidedly awkward.

You followed suit, apparating back to your flat and heading directly into your bedroom. You unlaced your boots and climbed back into bed with your bottle of Pepperup potion, uncorking the vial and downing it before laying back against your pillow. You hoped to sleep through the unpleasant side effect of steam pouring out of your ears.

~~~

The remainder of your weekend, and the next several days in your flat were tense. You’d confronted Samantha once your Pepperup potion had you feeling well again and it had gone about as well as was expected.

Samantha was unjustifiably bitter in finding out you’d told Leander everything you’d seen the day you ran into him in Diagon Alley, and you were completely unapologetic with her as she chastised you not keeping her indiscretions to yourself when you were supposed to be her friend.

She attempted to justify her own cheating with the fact you’d spent such a late evening with Leander awhile back, while she had in fact, been with another man as she missed her date night with her own boyfriend. Hearing that you’d enjoyed that evening with Leander after the fact made her feel less guilty for her actions, even though you reiterated to her that nothing had happened between the two of you. She had decided what she wanted to believe and there was no arguing with her.

Their actual break up came in the form of several letters exchanged via owl. The morning it happened, Samantha stomped angrily through the flat, grumbling to you about how she was going to be exhausted at work all day thanks to Leander sending his owl at an ungodly early hour. She blamed the bird for costing her sleep when it incessantly rapped at her window until she’d wake and take his letter. You couldn’t help but think Leander was being slightly vindictive in the timing of his owl, but you also couldn’t blame him. There was no doubt in your mind that she’d cost him sleep as well, with what she’d done to him.

Despite your relationship with Samantha being quite strained presently, you did agree to go gather her belongings from Leander’s flat for her. You could appreciate that neither of them wanted to see the other, and over the course of roughly six months, he’d apparently accumulated a good amount of her belongings. Exchanging your own letters with him, the two of you worked out an evening for you to come over. With a long list of things to collect tucked into the pocket of your coat, you spoke his address while standing in the hearth of the fireplace in your living room before dropping a handful of floo powder at your feet and disappearing in a rush of flames.

This was your first time in Leander Prewett’s flat, and you’d wished you were visiting under better circumstances. He was waiting in his living room to greet you when you stepped through his fireplace, a large cardboard box on the coffee table in the middle of the room with some of Samantha’s things already inside. The box was sitting besides a mostly empty lowball glass, still solid ice cubes being the only indicator that it had recently been full. Fire whiskey. You could smell it on his breath as he stepped towards you as you passed him the list of items Samantha expected back.

“I think I’ve gathered most of this stuff already.” He said as he read the list over, scoffing heartily as he worked his way through it. “Some of these on this list are mine! My cologne? Ridiculous, she gifted me that.”

“Really? That is awfully petty of her.”

“Isn’t it?” He agreed and shrugged his shoulders. “What’s she even want with it? Gift it to the other bloke?”

You couldn’t answer, simply shrugged as he headed out of the room and returned a moment later with the small glass bottle.

“She can have it.” He said and tossed the bottle haphazardly into the box amongst Samantha’s things. “Can I offer you a drink while you wait for me to find this stuff?”

“Oh, erm, sure. Thank you.” You said. Leander gestured for you to take a seat on his couch, which you did, while he headed into his kitchen to grab you something.

“Firewhiskey alright?” He called from the other room. “It’s what I was having, but I have-”

“Firewhiskey is fine.” You reply, cutting him off. No need for him to list all of the options when the first of them had always been a favorite if yours.

He set a fresh glass with ice down on the coffee table in front of you, and filled your glass before refilling his own.

“Cheers.” He said, picking up his glass and extending it to yours. You clinked his glass and sipped your drink, the strong cinnamon flavor warming your face immediately. He took a long swig from his own glass before setting it back down on the table with a satisfied ‘ahhh’ feeling the alcohol warming his bones.

“Let’s see, what else?” He mumbled, picking up the parchment and looking over it again. He disappeared back down the hall and into the other room, this time leaving you standing in his living room for several minutes before returning once again with what appeared to be a few shirts and some makeup. He tossed them into the box and cleared his throat. “That should be all of it.”

“Great. Thanks for taking the time to find everything.” You tell him as he folds up the top of the box, sealing it shut.

Leander took a seat on the couch beside you, picking up his glass once again and polishing it off. “I don’t usually drink like this, but this hurts, you know?” He said, gesturing to the box of his ex’s belongings on his table and picking up his bottle of firewhiskey, refilling his glass once again. The ice that had been there when you’d arrived was still present in the glass.

“I’m not judging…” You tell him, sipping again from your glass. “But maybe slow down a bit, yeah?”

“I don’t work tomorrow, I’m not worried about it.” He said, turning to flash a wide grin at you. “Maybe you should catch up.”

It didn’t take you much convincing beyond that, you had off work tomorrow as well. You shrugged your shoulders, returning his grin with a mischievous one of your own. “Ah, what the hell.” You concede, sipping more heavily from your drink, a smirk on your lips.

“That’s the spirit, MC. Live a little.” He encouraged with a chuckle, peering at you through his lashes while he tipped his drink back for another sip. “Can’t believe I’m telling you that.” He muttered.

But you did. You let yourself indulge in both the firewhiskey and in Leander’s good company. Spending time with him recently as Samantha’s boyfriend had been pleasant, but tonight was different, they weren’t together anymore. And though the evening had started as you just doing Samantha a favor by collecting her things, it was ending as the two of you spending time together because you both wanted to. You caught up to him in number of drinks over a game of wizard’s chess, sitting on the floor of his flat beside him, with the board set up on the coffee table.

You were terrible at the game, never having played it much in Hogwarts and not at all since graduating. Both of you were in stitches watching your chessmen falling to pieces on the board as Leander’s moved forward, taking control of the board. But the game didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to you right now was the way he teased you and questioned your moves before you made them; the way he leaned in towards you slightly when he spoke, looking at you with wide glassy eyes and a lazy, comfortable smile; the way nudged you playfully, teasing you for sending your chessmen to their doom or when you mistakenly tried to make illegal moves.

The game met an untimely end when you reached for the now more than half empty bottle of firewhiskey, knocking it against the board and scattering the pieces accidentally in your clumsily drunken state. This only made you laugh even harder, needing to set the bottle back down for fear of spilling it as you rolled back on the floor with tears in your eyes.

“Oh that’s rich! I think you did that intentionally because you were losing so badly.” He sarcastically scolded you. “Couldn’t handle losing to me, hm?” He teased as he picked back up the chessmen and resetting the board.

“Noo!” You denied, still laying on the floor and giggling. “In fact I demand a do over.”

“Do you, now? Do you think you can handle it? How are you going to play chess if you’re laying on the floor?” He teased, leaning back on one of his hands and looking down at you.

You shrugged your shoulders and sat back up, your cheeks red from your laughter and the alcohol alike. Leander took the liberty of refilling your glass for you. “Thank you. And yes, I can handle it. Can you handle it?”

“Oh I'm sure that I can.” He said with a wry grin. “Alright then, you’ll get your do over.”

Unsurprisingly to both of you, your second game was worse, but you were having fun. Leander couldn’t help himself from ribbing you on your moves. Any other more sober circumstance, he’d have taught you all about strategy, but neither of you were in quite the right mind for that tonight.

Paying more attention to the way Leander’s brows came together as he concentrated and how handsome his face was than the actual game itself, it was no shock to you when he’d won fairly quickly.

“Well, well, well! I’ve finally defeated the Hero of Hogwarts at something! Who’d have thought?” He teased, reveling in his win, a playful gloating tone in his voice.

“I’m certain I’ve asked you not to call me that.” You say, rolling your eyes, your cheeks sore from their grin.

“Oh, have you? I don’t recall.” He dismissed, smirking at you, resetting the board once again. “Besides, my win sounds more impressive when I use your proper title.”

“You’re insufferable.” You jest, sipping your drink, unable to wipe the grin from your face, bracing yourself for more of his teasing. Your buzzed state had you giggling preemptively.

But his mood had swung, and more teasing didn’t come. Leander’s gaze settled on the box of Samantha’s belongings on the floor beside the coffee table with a sigh. “Apparently so.”

“No, nonono. If there’s one thing we aren't doing, it’s being self depreciating.” You say firmly. “I was teasing. You aren’t insufferable at all. You’re actually quite pleasant to spend time with.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” He said finishing off the last of the firewhiskey from his glass and setting it heavily back down on the table. He let out a long exhale and stared into your eyes as though searching for the truth.

“No, I mean it.” You protest, giving him a pout. “I wouldn't have stayed if I wasn’t enjoying myself.”

“I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.” He said with a sigh.

“I think I could prove it.” You tell him, sounding quite sure of yourself, your lips pulling upwards into a confident little grin.

“Oh? And how exactly would you do that?” He wondered, unable to resist a little smirk at the confidence in your claim.

You didn’t reply, just leaned in towards him slowly, unsteadily. The tip of your nose brushed upwards against his, and you could feel him sharply inhale at your sudden proximity. Your eyes locked to his, looking up at him through your lashes. When he didn’t pull away, you leaned in closer, pressing your lips to his and holding the kiss for several seconds before he pulled back from you slowly, resting his forehead against yours. Leander let out a slow and shuddered breath, grounding himself and taking a moment to process what had happened.

He had a bit of a woozy looking crooked smile, and the look of it made your heart flutter. You moved a hand to the side of his face, your fingers grazing lightly along his jaw and back towards the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, your lips seeking out his again.

But he pulled away. His eyes were shut tightly, his brows knitted together, as though every inch of space he put between the two of you was more painful than the last. With the distance in the way, your hand slid away from his face, settling back on your lap, your eyes searching his as he opened them slowly.

“You’ve had too much to drink, MC.” He whispered.

You sat there in silence for what seemed like much too long, wanting with every fiber of your being to deny his statement, but in the end and with much reluctance, you nodded. It had crept up on you, but you were quite drunk. Unable to peel them away, your eyes remained on his lips after he’d spoken. You hadn’t thought about them much in the past, but after feeling how right they felt pressed to yours, the little taste you’d gotten had left you aching for more.

“MC?” He asked softly, your eyes fixed on his lips making his already rosy cheeks burn an even brighter red. You finally brought your eyes back up to meet his, letting him know you were listening. “It’s getting really late.” He said.

You let out a defeated sigh, not wanting to take the hint he was giving you. You didn’t want to leave. In the back of your mind you damned floo travel for being such a safe and easy way to travel, even while intoxicated, because you’d have grasped at any chance to stay with him in his flat right now. But no such excuse existed. “Right. You’re right. I should get going.” You said trying to bury any shred of disappointment in your voice. Deep down you knew heading back home was probably for the best.

Leander got to his feet first, steadying himself with the coffee table as he stood. He extended you his hands and you took them, easily getting hoisted up from the floor with his help.

You gathered the box of Samantha’s belongings, tucking it under your arm and against your hip, you stood in the hearth of Leander’s fireplace and he held out his bowl of floo powder for you to use to travel back home.

“Have a good night, MC.” He said as you took a handful of the black powder.

“I did.” You reply, a grin on your face, your glassy eyes giving him a final once over for the evening. “Goodnight, Leander.”

“Sleep well” He said, returning your grin with one of his own, a breath of a smirk leaving him, taking amusement in the way your hazy eyes traveled his form.

You cleared your throat, taking a moment in your mind to ensure you’d speak clearly before speaking aloud your address. You vanished from Leander’s flat in a flash of green flames, and appeared moments later back in your own, a bit more unsteady on your feet than you’d have hoped to be, you braced yourself on the sooty brick of the hearth before stepping out into your living room, where Samantha sat with a book curled up with a blanket on your sofa.

Looking far too annoyed for someone who didn’t have to go gather their own belongings, she sighed when you stumbled into the room, marking her place in her book and setting it down to relieve you of the box you were carrying.

“Is it all here?” She wondered, setting the box down on the armchair beside the fireplace and pulling the flaps open to dig through the contents.

“Leander said he got everything.” You tell her, kicking your shoes off where you stood, far too drunk to care to set them at the front door.

While Samantha went through her box, making sure all of her possessions had come home to her, you strode heavily into the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water and gulping it down quickly before returning to the living room and sprawling yourself across the sofa with a groan, completely taking over the space Samantha had previously been occupying.

She shot you a look, dumbfounded at your behavior, and you wondered whether or not she’d ever actually seen you in such a state of inebriation before.

“I was going to continue sitting there after making sure my stuff is all here.” She said, scoffing at you as she picked up the box, preparing to take it to her room. You only shrugged as she walked away, setting the box just inside her door and returning to the living room, her hands on her hips as she stared expectantly down at you.

It took her a moment of more closely watching your mannerisms, slow and unbothered, before she finally asked, “are you drunk?”

“Very.” You whine. You’d been feeling pretty good for most of the evening but now that you were laid out, your head was pounding, your several drinks had caught up with you and were making you nauseous.

“I knew there was something going on between the two of you. Ever since the other week when you let him in to wait for me, something has been up between the two of you.” Samantha said matter of factly.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes a bit too dramatically thanks to the firewhiskey in your veins. “That’s just your guilty conscience. Nothing happened when I let him in to wait on you.” You said cooly, grabbing the blanket that Samantha had been using and pulling it over your body, tucking it under your chin.

“And what about tonight?” She asked incredulously.

“Not your business.” You say with a shrug, trying to maintain a straight face, though your mind went instantly to the feeling of his lips against yours.

Samantha was so smug, shaking her head and crossing her arms across her chest. “Something happened, you are so obvious. You might not have touched him the other week but something was building. Tonight wouldn’t have happened out of nowhere. Not with him.”

“What do you care, Samantha? You were fucking your coworker while Leander was pacing our flat thinking something serious had happened to you. And nothing will ever change that fact.” You turned over on the couch with a groan, facing away from Samantha’s leering gaze. “Let me lie here. My head hurts.”

Samantha let out an exasperated huff, grabbing her book from the side table and taking it into her bedroom and slamming the door behind her, the clap of the door against the frame making your ears ring.

~~~

You didn’t know exactly when it would be coming, but you had anticipated seeing Leander’s owl at your window at some point after your time together in his flat over the weekend. So on Tuesday evening, when you were in your room changing out of your work robes after a long shift, you were not at all surprised with the rapping of talons against the glass of your window.

You’d been waiting for his letter, knowing him well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave what had happened between the two of you up in the air for long. Opening the window, you gently pulled the rolled parchment from the bird’s claws, and gave him a treat from a container you kept on your window sill for this very purpose, and the owl stayed comfortably perched at your window, seemingly waiting on your reply to carry back to Leander.

You sat on your bed to read his letter, grinning widely, your heartrate picking up at his words as you took them in. You’d been on his mind, in the same way he’d been on yours more and more frequently lately. He wanted you to meet with him, wanted to talk about the kiss you had shared. Shifting to your desk, you pulled a piece of parchment from your drawer and promptly started writing him back, agreeing to meet with him the following evening after work, as he’d requested. You sent your response back with Leander’s owl, already looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

Leander had asked you to meet him at a park near your house at six in the evening, and you arrived promptly to find him already waiting for you on a bench near a pond. It was a pleasant evening, the early springtime giving the air a slight chill especially as the sun was setting, but your body felt warm with anticipation, your stomach turning over as you made your way to sit beside him.

He turned towards you as you slid onto the bench beside him, a grin on his face and his honey brown eyes bright in the sunset. “Hey there. How was your day?” He asked.

“Good.” You said, trying to keep buried the feeling of eagerness you were feeling in his presence. “Uneventful, which is the best kind of day working at the hospital. How was yours?”

“Also uneventful, which is also good news in my office. It went by slowly. I was looking forward to this.” He said, nodding in your direction. “To seeing you.”

This made your cheeks warm, hearing him express feelings even remotely similar to the ones you’d been letting bubble inside. “I was looking forward to seeing you, too.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was merely the firewhiskey that had you so keen before.” He said with a smirk, but you could tell in his tone, and in the way his eyes hung on yours, he wanted the reassurance that what he said wasn’t the case.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t the firewhiskey.”

Leander let out a breath, his smirk turning into a genuine smile as he nodded, looking satisfied with your confirmation. “Seeing you last month when I brought over dinner was… well it- it brought up a lot of feelings I'd let myself forget about from back at Hogwarts…”

The more he spoke the redder your cheeks got. Though you weren’t very close back in school you still had enough fond memories with him that made you smile to think back on. You were silent, a dorky grin on your face as you listened to what he had to say.

“I had the biggest crush on you in school, did you know that?” He asked, tilting his head in wait for you to respond.

You shook your head, your cheeks still flushed. You weren’t happy to admit it, but you didn’t pay him the attention that he likely deserved in that way, back in school.

“Well I did, I thought it was obvious.” He continued. “But I didn’t think you’d ever look at me the same way. So I never dwelled on it. I let those thoughts go.” He said and took a deep breath, looking out over the pond in front of you. His hand rubbed the back of his neck and he spoke again with some hesitancy. “And then the other day you just… kissed me. Out of nowhere. I didn’t know how to respond. I don’t know why you did it or how to process it… Why’d you do it?”

“I just… I wanted to.” You admitted, your eyes flicking up to meet his, your shoulder raising in the faintest shrug. “I was having a good time with you and I wanted to.”

“But were you just trying to make me feel better about Samantha?” He wondered, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. “Was it out of pity?”

You shook your head. “No.” You tell him definitively and pause to further gather your thoughts. You knew you had to tell him more to satisfy his questions. And he deserved your honesty. “I can’t say that I felt the same back in school, but spending time with you lately, like when we went out to the pub the other evening… I feel it now. I like you a lot, Leander.”

Leander let out a contented little huff with your words, the confirmation that he hadn’t been alone in his feelings recently seeming to brighten him from the inside out. He didn’t seem nervous now, “I like you too. And I’d like to keep spending time with you, and to see where this can go. I just… need a little time.”

You look equally pleased with his confession, your face softening with a gentle smile. “I understand. We don’t have to rush anything. But I’d like to keep spending time with you too.” You said. Taking a few moments to sit in a comfortable silence together, you take one of Leander’s hands in your own, lacing your fingers between his and holding it on your lap, your other hand tracing his knuckles gently.

~~~

Spending time together on your mutual days off from work became a priority to both you and Leander rather quickly. Neither of you were looking to rush into things, with him both wanting and needing time to process and heal from his breakup with Samantha, but it became more and more apparent to each of you while spending time together that you truly enjoyed each other's company and meshed well together. Your weekends were spent with him in his flat, becoming more proficient at wizards chess, discussing books you’d both read, and just talking. Getting to truly know him was slow going, and you found yourself silently cursing Samantha for reinforcing those walls of his as you came to realize how deeply her cheating had affected him. But you’d decided from the start that you were in this with him. He was just too sweet, too kind, too much of a gentleman not to deserve your effort and a real chance. You gave him your all and it paid off.

All of the stolen moments between the pair of you towards the end of, and immediately following Leander’s relationship with Samantha, led into a friendship that was affectionate and tender, both of you relishing in the knowledge that each of you cared deeply for the other. It was hard taking it slow with him. The urge to claim his lips with yours, to dishevil his neatly styled hair in the most passionate of kisses, nearly overwhelmed you every time you saw him. But you gave him the time he needed, and he would love you for that.

It took nearly two months before you were able to say that Leander Prewett was officially yours, but when those words were finally able to leave your lips, the time it took getting to that point was more than worth it.

You weren't home often anymore, and knowing what you were up to, what little relationship you had left with Samantha deteriorated rapidly. With every passing day, you watched the end of your rental agreement creep closer, and you took pleasure in telling Samantha you’d be finding your own flat and moving out in just a month, when the lease would be up.

You were able to find a new flat with relative ease, something smaller, since it would be solely yours, and close to St. Mungos so that you could walk to work on days when the weather would allow for it.

Leander was at your side that month later when it came time for you to move, helping you pack your belongings into the enchanted trunk you’d kept from your time in Hogwarts, and in your new flat alongside you helping you as you put things in their new places.

Magic undoubtedly made the moving process easier, but your day was still draining, both physically and emotionally. Leaving your flatmate of two years on bitter terms wasn’t something you’d anticipated at all when the two of you made the decision to move in together in the first place, but leaving felt like the right thing to do after all that had happened.

Despite being full of your own belongings, a mix of items that moved with you from your old flat and things you’d conjured with old spellcrafts you’d saved from school, you felt most at home in your new flat while laying in Leander’s arms. Sprawled out on your bed that evening as the warm light from the lampposts outside of your window spilt in through your blinds, Leander laid with his head on your chest, his weight against you making you feel comfortable and secure.

“Thank you for all of your help today.” You tell him, your fingers running through his hair gently as you held each other.

“Of course love. I wouldn’t have let you do it all on your own.” He said, nuzzling into your touch, his breath warm on your skin as he exhaled with contentment.

“Stay here with me tonight?” You suggest, kissing the top of his head.

He hummed happily and you felt him nodding against your chest. “I’ve no intention of leaving you alone on your first night in your new flat.”

“Good.” You murmur, your hands dragging softly up and down the span of his back, pulling at the hem of his top and raising it so your nails could tease along his skin, and he held you tighter.

“When you touch me like this, you make it very difficult for me not to just take you already.” Leander said quietly, the faintest groan in his throat as he cuddled against you. His fingers gripped your waist and you could almost feel his wavering restraint in the way his fingers dipped just below the waistband of your pants.

“Oh? Do I now?” You ask him, the flirtation in your voice making him even more excited. “If you’re ready, then I’m ready.”

This piqued Leander’s interest and he shifted his head up from your chest to look at you properly. “Do you mean that?” He wondered. “You want to?”

Having his eye contact made your breath catch. Your body absolutely ached for him. The longer you laid beside him, every single minute you spent in his presence, the harder it was to keep taking things slowly, the more you wished he’d make his move and tell you he was ready to take that step with you. Not that you wouldn’t continue waiting… But it was hard. “I mean it. I want you.”

Leander knew perfectly well that you had been the one waiting on him to be ready to take this step, and hearing you express out loud your desire for him made the last shreds of restraint in him vanish. His last relationship had hurt him and those wounds were only just starting to heal, but in this moment keeping himself guarded from you was a pain in and of itself, something that became more difficult to do with each passing day. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He didn’t want his past relationship to set the pace of this one anymore.

“I want you, too.” He said, leaning in towards you, his hand coming behind your head as he pulled you into a heated kiss which you eagerly returned and deepened, your tongue trailing his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth and pressing against his.

When your kiss broke Leander shifted himself up, sitting at your side as he pulled his top off over his head and tossed it onto your otherwise spotless floor. He took your hands and pulled you up beside him as well, his large hands sliding up your ribs and around your back, his nimble fingers at the buttons of your blouse before he pulled it up and off of you. His grip settled firmly on your hips, pulling you to him, you shifted onto his lap, straddling his thighs. Lips meeting passionately, your arms rest around his shoulders, fingers through his soft auburn hair as he deftly unlaced and removed your camisole. His hands palmed your chest, kneading your breasts gently, his back hunching down so that his lips could graze your neck.

Your body buzzed with anticipation that had been building in you ever since your drunken evening in his flat months ago now. You rocked your hips against his lap needily, making him groan into the crook of your neck. You felt his teeth against your skin, nipping and sucking sensually, marking you as his. “You’re driving me crazy right now, you know that?” He breathed, his lips never parting from your skin.

“Mhm,” You hum, your fingers gripping the hair at the nape of his neck and guiding his face back to yours, you lean in, languidly pressing your lips to his as his arms wrap around the small of your back, his fingertips pressing against your curves and pulling your body down against his as he sought the friction you’d given him when you’d rocked your hips.

Leaning forward against you, Leander guided you off of his lap and onto your back against your mattress. He slid from the edge of your bed, his eyes wide and longing as they took in the sight of you while his hands were at his belt, unclasping it and sliding his trousers and undergarments off. You bit your lip as you watched thoroughly enticed by the heat of his gaze and his body. You giggled when he took you by your legs, just below your knees, and pulled you to the edge of the bed towards him, where he unlaced your pants with a smirk and tugged at your pant legs, pulling them and your knickers off of you with help from a wiggle of your hips.

His broad, muscular shoulders looked so good flexing as he dipped his head down, kneeling on the bedroom floor between your parted legs as they rest against his shoulders over the side of the bed. He kissed up one of your legs, then slowly down the other, seemingly mercilessly skipping over spots in which you wanted his lips most of all. It would have been teasing if it was anyone else, but Leander Prewett wasn’t a tease. He savored and loved on you with a genuine appreciation for you and your body and for the opportunity he had to touch you so intimately.

Working you up and making you needy beyond comprehension for him was just a side effect of his attention to your every detail.

Hearing you whine and feeling goosebumps rise beneath his lips as they traced your inner thighs only reinforce his feeling that he was doing his job properly. Slowly, he kissed his way to your center, his tongue so soft and warm between your thighs. Your breath quickened as his tongue flitted against your clit, your fists gripping your bedding as he sucked at you. You felt heat radiating from your center as he worked you, lapping at you fervently, soft moans and hums coming from his lips as though he was savoring his favorite dessert.

Your breath only got sharper when you felt his long fingers rubbing against you below his tongue, grazing against you gently as he slickened them up with your arousal before slipping them carefully into your body. You moaned out his name and you could feel him grinning against your body at the sound of hearing your voice, so sweet and delicious as you called out for him.

Leander beckoned his fingers inside of you, his long digits rubbing that sensitive spot so expertly and making your back arch up off the bed and your legs tense against his shoulders.

Not wanting to part his lips from your body to speak for even a moment, Leander’s free hand found one of yours and laid over it, squeezing your palm affectionately. You gripped at his fingers tightly as you had been to your bedding, clutching onto him while your body writhed through the radiating ecstasy of the climax he brought about you.

Your breath was a shaky exhale of expletives and moans as you released against his fingers and tongue, panting still as he withdrew his fingers and leaned up over you, kissing his way up your body to your neck.

“You sound so lovely like that.” He whispered, his lips against your ear taking your lobe between his teeth playfully, nipping at it gently before pressing a kiss to your neck.

You were lost for words, wanting him desperately, your core still throbbing from the faintest touches of his body against yours as he leaned over you. Leander nudged you gently and nodded, gesturing for you to move back from the edge of the bed, and so you did, shifting to lay against your pillow, Leander crawled onto the bed overtop you, parting your legs with his knees and settling himself between them.

Your heart was still hammering away in your chest, but you felt a sense of calm as Leander laid over you, something you always felt in his presence. The tender way in which he loved you was comforting, no matter the intense feelings he’d brought upon your body.

Supporting himself on his elbows, Leander’s hands cradled your face as he kissed you breathless, his hips grinding against yours, you could feel the twitch of his arousal so eagerly nudging between your thighs. “Are you ready, love? Can I?” He asked, peppering your neck in kisses as you nodded eagerly.

“Please.” You murmur, your hands moving to his face and guiding his forehead to rest against yours.

Leander let out a deep breath, kissing your lips softly as one of his hands slipped between your bodies, adjusting himself to align with your slick and still very sensitive core, before finally pressing into you gently with a moan. Your breath hitched as you stared up into his eyes, the soft way he looked back at you as your body enveloped him had you completely transfixed. You adored him, and the look on his face, the way he held you so tenderly as he rolled his hips against yours, told you everything you wanted to know about how he felt in return.

You wrapped your legs around him, wanting to feel his body with every inch of your skin, wanting to hold him as closely to you as possible. Your arms clung around his shoulders, fingers trailing his back, you pulled him closer still, feeling his nose and lips drag along your cheek before settling against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he panted with his efforts, rutting into you.

Your head lolled back, neck outstretched on your pillow for his lips to travel along. You let out a breathy moan, your grip tightening around his back, the way he hit that spot just right as with every hungry thrust of his hips had heat building deep within you, pressure building as his movements became more frantic and desperate, the sounds of his shuddered breathing telling you that he was right there with you.

Your back arched and your legs around his back gripped him as your muscles tightened. Your insides pulsing and clenching around him as he brought you to another climax made him whine your name against your neck. He chased his own release, body trembling overtop yours as he thrust again and again. Feeling his release approaching, he pressed into you with everything he had, his forehead resting against yours once again, gazing intently into your eyes he spilt inside of you with a low groan.

Sweating now and totally spent, Leander let his body relax overtop of yours, the weight of him over you a comforting and secure feeling you could get very used to. Catching your breath together, your fingers worked back into his hair, running through the strands affectionately, you turned your head to kiss his face.

Leander hummed in satisfaction at your affection for him, and shifted himself slightly ro return your kiss. “Was it worth the wait?” He asked you, his voice low relaxed now, he nuzzled his face close to yours.

“Worth every single moment.” You assured him, closing your eyes in your own total satisfaction.

You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect evening in your new flat, and knowing that you wouldn’t be waking up alone in the morning made it even sweeter. You were his and he was yours, and it was worth the wait. Worth the road it took to get here. If this was how perfectly content you were with him already, you couldn’t wait to see what your futures together held.

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zeprussia · 2 months

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Beautiful

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zeprussia · 2 months

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I have a Leander prompt if you’d be interested? MC is back for the start of sixth year and not coping well after the events of the map chamber etc. Leander finds her in the common room late at night upset and they become unlikely friends and develop feelings over time? 👀

Big big fan of your writing! X

Thank you for this request, anon!! I really loved working on this, as you can probably tell from how insanely LONG this is. I also saw your other ask with the added details and I incorporated those too! I hope you like it!!

You See Me

Leander Prewett / gn!Gryffindor!Reader 12.4k words

Content Warnings: Game spoilers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, MC is dealing with anxiety Summary: MC is having a hard time starting out sixth year. Their friendships from fifth year are falling apart and the loss of Professor Fig is weighing on them greatly, leading to reoccurring nightmares. As things get worse, MC finds comfort in someone they didn't expect to.

~~~~~ The summer holiday following fifth year unfortunately did not give you the reprieve you so desperately needed, after the hell that was your first year of experience as a Hogwarts student. You made some friends and had some fun, sure, but the price you paid mentally and emotionally while being there for those you grew closest to, and while defending the school you’d come to love, left you reeling and distraught over the summer months.

You’d kept in touch with Sebastian, via owl, during the months the two of you spent away from the castle. You wrote him multiple times a week, though not every letter you sent him garnered a response. You were sick with anxiety over the thought of him staying alone in that little house in Feldcroft. Not a happy home to begin with, when his Uncle Solomon had been ever angry and pessimistic, and Anne so ill, nowadays, with only Sebastian residing there, silence and loneliness overwhelmed the small house making the ambiance all the worse.

Sebastian’s letters explained to you how he had seen neither Ominis nor Anne since the events of the catacombs, and how regretful he was for what had happened, how he desperately wished he wasn’t so utterly alone while away from school. You wished that your living situation allowed for him to stay with you for the time being, but it wasn’t possible. Your caregivers wouldn’t entertain the idea for any amount of time. The tone of his letters made you anxious about the state in which you’d find him when you’d finally be reunited after summer.

He was equally concerned for you, and rightfully so. In your letters, you’d written a lot about your grief over losing Professor Fig, and the guilt you felt around the ordeal. You kept the full story from your caregivers over fear of not being allowed back to Hogwarts, and you wanted nothing more than to be in the proximity of someone who understood. You needed your friends now more than ever.

You’d sent Ominis several letters, as well. You weren’t sure if he genuinely didn’t receive them, or if he was simply ignoring your efforts to stay connected to him, but regardless, his lack of response only added to your feelings of unease as you packed your trunks to head back to Hogwarts for your sixth year. You were excited to see them both again, but a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach made you unsure whether or not things would ever be the same among your little group… You could only hope.

Boarding the Hogwarts Express, you could fine neither Sebastian nor Ominis as you walked through the train cars, taking your time to peer into each cabin. Your assumption was that they simply hadn’t boarded yet, though you hadn't seen him on the station platform either. Perhaps they were just running a bit late, or you overlooked them in the massive crowd. Instead, you resigned to sitting in a cabin with a Gryffindor housemate of yours, Natsai Onai. You took the seat across from her, and the two of you started to chat about your summer.

You hadn’t had much time to catch up with her before the door to your cabin was being pulled open again, and you were being joined by two more housemates, Garreth Weasley and Leander Prewett, the two boys dialing up the volume level in your cabin from a 2 to a 10 instantaneously with their banter and laughter. Despite being housemates with the two of them for an entire school year, you hadn’t truly become friends with either of the boys, due to your involvement with Sebastian monopolizing nearly all of your spare time. This fact was obvious and regrettable when the addition of the two boys to your cabin drew Natty’s attention off of you, and made you feel like an outsider even though you were surrounded by people who should have been your closest peers. You made a mental note to try to expand your friendships this year.

You sat mostly quietly, Garreth dominating much of the conversation, speaking to the three of you as a whole about all of the various experimental potions he’d concocted the last few months. You were hearing him, but not quite listening, your gaze focused out the window as the train departed the station. After awhile, the conversation around you calmed. Leander had taken to reading a book, while Garreth chatted to Natty, who remained polite but was definitely less than interested in the conversation.

Having actually been your friend through fifth year, Natty could tell something was troubling you, but she also knew better than to outright ask you about it, especially not in front of anyone else. You didn’t set out to be the mysterious type in your fifth year, but the nature of your various activities didn’t lend themselves to being casual conversation topics. And so, you stewed in your thoughts and anxieties privately as the train drew closer to Hogwarts. Stealing the idea from Leander, you pulled a book from your satchel, and pretended to read in an attempt to look less stricken as you dwelled on whether or not Ominis was angry with you, or if he and Sebastian would get back to speaking terms, or if Sebastian would still be the friend he was when you’d last seen him.

Eventually, the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and the train deboarded slowly. You tried to scan the crowds the best you could for your Slytherin friends while heading towards the carriages en masse to take the short ride to the castle. It wasn’t until you were seated at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall that you’d finally spotted them from across the room, your heart aching that they weren’t seated together. You knew there would be work to do to get things to return to how they were before every thing had happened. But you knew you had to try.

You sat quietly through the sorting ceremony before dinner was served, eating your food quickly and chatting absentmindedly with your housemates until the meal is over and you’re finally able to slip through the crowds of students making their ways to their common rooms, over towards the Slytherin table, where you’d finally be able to catch up with Sebastian. As you made your way towards his table, among the droves of students exiting the Great Hall, you spotted Ominis, not sticking around to chat with anyone.

You couldn’t formulate words before you were being wrapped in a tight hug, Sebastian’s fists clenching your robes as though you’d vanish if he didn’t hold you tightly enough. “Gods I’ve missed you.” He muttered with his head buried against your shoulder.

“I missed you, too.” You said softly, all of your focus going into keeping the tears inside that were threatening to spill at the feeling of finally being reunited with the only person who really understood.

You clutched him back, squeezing him tight for just a few moments before the two of you backed up a step, holding each other at arms length and really taking each other in. Sebastian could see the sadness and grief in your eyes, the hurt you had from losing Fig, the burden of everything you’d seen beneath the castle, mixed with a new feeling of relief that came with just being near him.

Sebastian’s guilt over the events of the catacombs, the tragic series of events that led him to losing contact with his sister and best friend, was painted all over his face. His eyes were solemn, the smile he had for seeing you again, though genuine, was nothing like the smile you came to know the previous year, before things had gotten complicated.

As the Great Hall emptied, the two of you made your way out of the room with the last of the crowd, him slowly walking you towards your common room and chatting quietly all the while.

“Do you think Ominis will start speaking to you again…? Now that you’ll be forced into proximity in the dorms?” You asked him, worry heavy in your voice. You couldn’t imagine how not only awkward, but painful it would be to have your closest friend so close by, but separated by the circumstances.

“I damn well hope so. He’s been so stubborn, but he’s only human. I’ll do my best, apologize for everything that happened...” Sebastian said, before leaning in and lowering his voice. “Convince him I’m through with the dark arts.”

“I hope you can.” You said.

“I’ll be trying from the moment I return to our common room. If all else fails, you can give it a go. You’ve always had a way with Ominis.” Sebastian sounded more confident than he looked, but it was refreshing to hear the drive in his voice again.

“I think you’ll have better luck with him when it comes to this. He hadn’t returned any of my owls all summer, as I had mentioned.”

“Hm. I know. Mine either, of course. But... We’ll give it our best. He still cares for us, regardless of what happened, there’s no way he doesn't.”

“Well, good luck then.” You said as the two of you approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Sebastian bid you a goodnight, giving you a little wave while taking a few backwards steps before turning around and making his way towards his own common room.

You headed through the portrait and into your common room, where the rest of your house mates were scattered through the space, chatting, laughing, telling stories about their summers. Despite spending more of your time with your Slytherin friends the previous year, the Gryffindor common room felt soothing and homey as you entered.

Knowing you’d have lost yourself in stressful thoughts if you’d have gone to your dorm room, you settled yourself among a group of your fellow sixth years in the corner of one of the sofas near the fireplace, against the armrest. Nellie Oggspire was sat beside you, along with Garreth who was half underneath her, his arms encircling her waist, holding her in place. Natty was sat in the armchair adjacent to you in conversation with Cressida, while Leander sat against the opposite armrest of the sofa, beside Garreth.

Joining into the existing conversation seemed daunting at first but the group eagerly included you, overall glad that you were making a point to be social by inserting yourself amongst them. As a whole, the group assumed this was a first step to normalcy for you, they knew you were there when Fig passed and that you were likely emotional in coming back to school. But they were happy to see you trying to connect.

The six of you chatted late into the evening. You now knew they details of their summers: that Leander’s family had gone on a long holiday, on which they brought along Garreth, that Garreth and Nellie who’d apparently been close since the year prior started dating, that Natty’s mother had finally loosened up a bit, and that Cressida had not only perfected the charm you’d helped her with the consequences of the year before, but learned to preform it non verbally. It seemed as though each of them had pleasant summers, but you didn’t have much to contribute about yours without bringing down the vibe of the group, so you spoke of the books you’d read to keep the mood light.

You all talked about Quidditch being reinstated, and about continuing on with Crossed Wands, calling Lucan to join the conversation. He promised to get sign ups going as soon as possible. These two things excited you, having hobbies and things to do would keep your mind busy and leave you less time to succumb to your anxieties. You hoped that the group couldn’t tell how as they spoke you seemed to be a bit preoccupied in your own mind, smiling and reacting to their words just a moment later than the rest did. You were wondering how Sebastian was fairing in his mission to speak to Ominis for the first time in months...

But despite being a bit distracted you tried to keep your thoughts positive, and as the conversation went on, you found yourself relaxing a bit more. Overall, you had a pleasant evening and did feel a bit closer to your house mates, and when you tucked yourself into your bed for the evening, you were able to sleep mostly soundly.

~~~

The first day of term brought stress and excitement weighed very equally for you. You were excited to get into your new courses, and to get back into dueling, and trying out for Quidditch did sound fun. But at the forefront of your mine when you woke up the following morning, was seeing how Sebastian’s conversation went with Ominis. With any luck, they’d be sitting together at breakfast. You dug through your trunk, grabbing clothes and your toiletries, and readied yourself for the day, before heading down to breakfast along with your dorm mates.

Sitting among your group from the previous evening, you poured yourself your morning tea and served yourself some eggs and toast. Conversation was happening around you, but your gaze was fixed on the Slytherin table, scanning over the long benches for either of your best friends. Part way through your search, you notice Sebastian storming into your peripheral vision, and your eyes shot to follow him. There were only a few times you’d seen him so bitter. A couple of times after interacting with his uncle, and once when he’d heard you’d befriended a goblin… luckily that was something you were able to move past.

Sebastian threw himself down onto the bench beside Imelda and a few of his other housemates, none of whom dared to address him while he was in such a state. You continued to scan across the table, noticing that Ominis was not there, and when he didn’t come into the hall after a few minutes, you concluded that something must have happened between the two boys, and you had a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Sebastian caught your gaze, giving you a drawn out stare, his furrowed brows not softening the way they typically did when you looked at him with concern.

You were a moment away from standing up, ready to go to him, to find out what happened and to offer him a listening ear when you felt a nudge to your arm.

“Garreth’s speaking to you, MC.” Spoke a soft voice to your left, snapping you out of it, and bringing you back to the conversation around you. It was Leander. He’d nudged you gently, getting your attention before motioning towards Garreth who was sitting across and down a few heads from you.

“I’d just asked what position you’ll be trying out for, now that Black’s re-allowing Quidditch. Personally I was saying I’d like to be a beater, maybe a chaser. And Lee was going to go for Keeper. What do you think?”

“Oh, uh. I… I hadn’t really thought to much about it yet. Maybe chaser.” You say, honestly shocked realizing that you’d zoned out to the point where you’d totally missed the discussion going on around you.

“I reckon you’d be a fine chaser!” Garreth said and nodded in agreement while sloppily eating his breakfast. Lucan, who was sat beside him, started talking about how he was going to be trying out for seeker, and that conversation pulled his attention from you.

You resumed eating, but your gaze went back to Sebastian, who was eating his breakfast so aggressively it was as though it had personally offended him.

“Are you alright, MC?” Leander’s voice was soft as he spoke to you again. You turned to him, seeing him looking from the Slytherin table then back at you, he’d been trying to see what you were staring at. “Something wrong between you and Sebastian?”

“I’m fine, and no.” You said, not about to elaborate to a boy you’d only spoken to a handful of times since you’d met him. Though, the fact that he even asked made you smile a bit. You hadn’t expected him to be observant enough to tell… Or maybe you were just more emotive than you’d thought you were.

Whatever made him ask, your response was enough to keep him from pressing the issue for the time being. He had looked at you as though he had something else he wanted to say, but had decided against it, and instead hopped back into the Quidditch discussion with the others. Not wanting anyone else to question you, you more actively joined the conversation as well.

Once breakfast was wrapping up and students were starting to disperse, you noticed Sebastian getting up from the table, you did the same. You excused yourself from your housemates, and followed him out of the Great Hall, walking quickly to catch up with him.

“Sebastian! Wait for me!” You called to him, trailing behind him several paces, as he walked with a swiftness that should have told you he didn’t really want to speak right now.

But when you persisted in your following and pleaded calling, he stopped and turned to face you suddenly, and when you stopped a few feet in front of him, he closed the distance quickly. “Undercroft. Now.” Though whispered, he delivered the message very sternly.

You nodded and followed along with him to the defense against the dark arts tower and towards the large ornate clock that housed its entrance. Quickly scanning the area for prying eyes, you followed Sebastian into the Undercroft, where he began pacing, rubbing his temples.

“I’m guessing speaking with Ominis didn’t go well...?” You said cautiously.

“No, it bloody well didn’t, MC.” He snapped, then winced in spite of himself, but didn’t apologize for his tone.

Of course, you didn’t hold his tone against him. You just assumed that whatever happened must have been serious. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was able to speak with him… I told him everything, bared my heart, told him how regretful I am for how everything happened in the catacombs… How much I missed him, and Anne. I thought the whole thing had been going alright… but then that fucking prick let it slip that he’s in contact with Anne all this time, and he won’t give me her damn information so I can write to her!” He shouted, gripping his hair, his teeth baring as he groaned in what could described as misery. “No owl I have sent her since she left has been able to find her… And that bastard knows where she is.”

Sebastian was pacing as he vented his frustrations with Ominis, and you weren’t exactly sure how to console him. “Do you want me to try to talk to him?” It was really the only thing you could think to offer, and he did mention yesterday that perhaps you’d be able to get through to Ominis instead… but that was in regard to just getting your trio back together...

Before bothering to reply, Sebastian shot off a few blasts of confringo to some of the various crates and things about the Undercroft, letting out his frustration in a way he’d grown accustomed to when he fought goblins with you the year prior.

“Be my guest, because I certainly have no plans to speak with him in the foreseeable future. Unless he come to me to apologize for keeping my own sister’s whereabouts from me, and tells me where she is I don’t wish to speak to him.” Sebastian huffed as he made his way towards an old tattered sofa, letting himself plop down onto it and throwing his head back.

You nodded. “I’ll do that, then. As soon as I see him, I’ll ask him if we can speak.” You assured Sebastian.

He waved you off, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be alone, so you turned and made your way out of the Undercroft. You had class to get to, anyway.

As you headed to your first class of the day, you tried thinking of what you’d say to Ominis when you saw him… You wanted to talk to him, not just for Sebastian but for yourself as well… You wanted to know if he’d received your letters, if he was angry with you or just upset as a whole. Perhaps selfishly, you wanted your friendship back with him regardless of any spat he was in with Sebastian. And you had to communicate all of that while also asking him to divulge information to Sebastian that no doubt Anne had asked him to keep secret. It would be no easy task, and you were hardly sure if you were even up for it given your own emotional state, but, as you’d shown time and time again, you’d go to any length for your friends.

Your first class of the day was Charms, which Professor Ronan started in a similar fashion as your first day the previous year, with a refresher of the Accio charm, in the form of Summoner’s Court. This year however, as sixth years, you were required to begin learning how to cast non-verbally, which would provide an interesting twist to the otherwise straight forward game. The Professor paired off you and your classmates, and assigned you to play against Leander. The two of you watched along with the other pairs as Professor Ronan demonstrated, making the task look easy, but you knew that non-verbal casting was supposed to be anything but simple.

The first few pairs of your classmates made goes at the task, some getting the ball to roll a bit, but none of what anyone had accomplished in their allotted time could have actually been considered playing Summoner’s Court. No one thus far had been able to score with all three of their balls, and most couldn’t get a ball to move at all. Professor Ronan assured every group as they tried that this skill would take time, and that he had the utmost confidence that everyone would be able to play non-verbally with more practice over the next several lessons.

After a few other pairs had attempted, Professor Ronan called on you and Leander to try. Stepping up onto the platform, Leander gestured to you, allowing you to go first.

Your head was clouded from your conversation with Sebastian, but you were confident, your use of ancient magic being non verbal, you were more than sure you could manage a simple summoning charm silently. You swished your wand, focusing as best you could at the moment on one of the red balls, willing it towards you… but nothing happened.

It should have been Leander’s turn after your first attempt, but he shook his head, gesturing for you to keep trying. “You go again. You can do this, focus.” He encouraged.

You nodded and took a deep breath, grit your teeth, and tried to focus all of your energy on bringing your ball into the 50 point section of the board. But again, nothing happened. You sighed, letting your hands fall to your side. “You try.” You told Leander, your frustration with yourself evident in your voice.

Leander adjusted his stance and took several deep breaths with his eyes closed, readying himself. Once completely focused, he cast silently, once of the blue balls rolling half a meter towards him, not earning him a score, but still doing enough to earn praise from Professor Ronan.

You tried to smile, but your voice was defeated. “Well done.” You told Leander as you stepped forward, this time attempting to copy his focusing method, your eyes closed, breathing deeply, before attempting your second turn. This time, the red ball you’d been aiming at rocked in place a bit. Not what you were hoping for, you shook your head at yourself and stepped back.

The two went back and forth practicing a few more times and exhausting the rest of your allotted time, before Professor Ronan reset the court and the next pair of your classmates gave it their shot. You and Leander took a seat in the garden, watching the rest of your classmates trying their luck. You leaned back on your hands trying to relax a bit and pretending you hadn’t just made a fool of yourself when you knew everyone would have been expecting more from you after your accomplishments of the previous year.

You could feel Leander’s eyes on you as you watched intently your classmates similar failures. “We could both use some more practice.” He said casually, in a hushed tone as not to be overheard by the professor or your peers sat in the grass scattered around you.

“Mhm.” You hummed, not turning to look at him, for fear his competitive side would rub your crushing defeat into your face.

“I’d be keen to continue practicing together, if you’d be.” He said softly.

“Oh... We can do that, sure.” You agreed, pleasantly surprised that he didn’t give you the snark you’d become used to hearing from him around the castle. The two of you quietly chatted a bit more, as class progressed, deciding to meet during your free period on Wednesday.

~~~

Through your classes, the need to speak with Ominis lingered in the back of your mind. But getting the Slytherin alone was proving to be more difficult that you’d anticipated. You shared a several common classes, double Herbology, History of Magic, Potions… But at every strike of the clock as it dismissed lessons, he was too quickly out the door and into the sea of other students in the castle for you to approach him.

It was midweek when you’d found him in the Library before breakfast. You’d taken to seeking him out outside of classes as it was clear he was avoiding you during them. Not expecting your – or anyone else’s – presence so early, he startled when you softly spoke his name into the quiet room.

“Ominis… Can we talk?” You asked.

He set his wand down along the center of the book he’d been reading, and turned towards the direction of your voice. “I’ve already spoken with Sebastian. Has he put you up to this?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I wanted to talk to you, regardless of what Sebastian told me of his conversation with you... Did you get my letters over summer holiday?” You asked as you sank into the chair across the table from him.

“I did. I can appreciate that you’re regretful of how things happened last year, but you… you convinced me to betray my morals on more than one occasion and I have not forgiven you, nor am I sure that I ever will.” Ominis said. “And I am finding it hard to believe that you’re not here right now to try to convince me to betray Anne’s trust by giving Sebastian her whereabouts. He asked you to speak with me, don’t lie to me.”

“He did…” You admitted, leaning forward and keeping your voice down to keep the conversation private. “Ominis, that’s his sister, the only family he has left, and who’s time is likely limited… Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel of you to keep that from him?”

“Cruel of me?” Ominis asked with a scoff. “We can have a discussion what cruelty actually is, if that’s what you would like to do, MC.”

He was clearly offended at your remark, and against your better judgment, you continued to push him. “It shouldn’t be up to you whether or not Sebastian gets the opportunity to say his piece to his sister. It can be up to her to respond, but it isn’t your place to keep that chance from him.”

“I gave Anne my word and I intend to keep it. If she chooses to connect with him, she knows where he is to send him an owl.” Ominis said with finality.

“Ominis…”

“You will not sway me again, MC!” He almost shouted, rising slightly from his chair and turning the heads of several other early rising students who were already in the library.

A defeated sigh was the last thing out of your mouth before you rose from the table and headed out of the library, and towards the Great Hall, where breakfast would be beginning to be served momentarily.

You really had given it your best attempt, trying to play at Ominis’s heart but his conviction to keeping his word to Anne was making him unreasonably stubborn, and now, you had to deliver word to Sebastian.

You were one of the first in the Great Hall that morning. You didn’t bother fixing yourself a plate just yet, as you sat at the Gryffindor table, eyes locked across the room, waiting for Sebastian to make his appearance so you could undoubtedly ruin his day with the news that you couldn’t win over Ominis this time… You were dreading it.

You sat about 15 minutes before Sebastian came through the tall wooden doors into the Great Hall, and you started making your way towards him quickly, before he’d even reached his seat, the other Gryffindors who’d meandered their way to your table turning to you in confusion over how someone could seem to have so much vigor so early in the morning on a Wednesday.

Sebastian caught your eyes as you headed his way, meeting you at his table, you sunk onto the bench beside each other, he wasted no time in giving you an expectant look. “Well, have you spoken to Ominis? Do you know where she is?”

“I’m sorry… Sebastian. I tried reasoning with him… He’s not planning on telling you, and he wouldn’t tell me. He’s not forgiven me for my part in things and he doesn’t want to speak to me at all, it would seem.” You said as gently as you possibly could, your hand on his shoulder while you gave him the news.

Sebastian said nothing, kept his eyes straight ahead as you told him, bit his lip, likely to keep himself from saying something to you that he’d regret. You could see the rage beginning to simmer up within him, and a moment later, as the hall started to fill with more students, he got up and stormed towards the doors.

You were certain he was heading to the Undercroft, so you got up and went after him, the two of you making you way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower quickly, and through the clockwork door to the secret room.

No sooner did the gate slam down behind you did Sebastian turn to face you, his brows furrowed in anger. “That might have been my last shot at finding out where Anne is… And you blew it!” He said, his last words laced with venom.

You were taken aback that his outburst was directed at you. “Sebastian, I did my best, he shouted at me in the library he was so angry. I did all that I could.”

“You must have used the wrong approach with him! You’ve always been able to get through to him!!”

“Well, he’s not happy with that fact!” You spat back.

“Just go, MC. You’ve done enough.” He said. When you didn’t make a move for the gate, he stepped towards you, making you take a step back. “GO!”

Finally you did turn to leave, looking back over your shoulder at the brooding boy as you raised the gate. You wanted to say more, to sympathize with your friend, but he wasn’t having it at all, at the moment, and so you left.

Breakfast was still being served and would be for awhile longer, but you no longer had an appetite, your stomach twisting in unwarranted guilt. You knew you tried your best, but still, you felt as though you failed.

I did fail. You thought.

Your mind spiraled as you made your way back to your common room. Knowing that you had a free period after breakfast, you let yourself fall into your bed before drawing the surrounding curtains shut and burying your face in your pillow.

Your pillow growing damp beneath your tears, you slowly began to doze off. Your mental exhaustion overriding the fact that you’d only been awake for a couple hours. Before succumbing completely to sleep, you pulled your curtain back a tad, and pointed your wand at your alarm clock, charming it to wake you before your first class of the day.

About an hour later you awoke, your little nap not making you feel any better as a creeping sense of dread weighed in your mind.

I let Sebastian down.

You pulled yourself from your bed, standing in front of the mirror for a moment to straighten out your uniform and fixing your robe which you hadn’t even bothered to remove.

Heading back down to the common room, you intended to grab an apple to tide you over until lunch, but yet another set of disappointed eyes caught yours as you made your way to the fruit bowl.

Leander. Fuck! You’d made plans to practice non verbal casting with him during the free period you’d just slept through. You didn’t think you could feel any more guilty than you already did, but you proved yourself wrong instantly when those deep brown eyes of his met yours, giving you a look of questioning as he closed the book he’d been reading.

“Leander, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot we were supposed to meet outside an hour ago.” You said as you approached, taking a seat next to him on the sofa near the fireplace.

“I waited fifteen minutes… I don’t like being stood up.” He said, annoyance clear in his voice. “Were you sleeping?” He asked, turning in his seat to face you better. He looked you over, taking in the state of your hair… something you hadn’t bothered fixing, and your wrinkled robe. “In your uniform?”

You nodded, your eyes towards the floor in embarrassment.

You were expecting judgment, perhaps even criticism… But the look on his face softened as his eyes studied your face. “Look MC, if there’s something going on, you can tell me.”

Merlin did you want to. You wanted to spill everything you were feeling just to get the weight off of your chest and maybe hear that not everything was your fault, but you bit back the urge to vent. “Can we just reschedule? I still really need the practice and I promise, I won’t forget next time.”

Leander sighed, seeing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with you at the moment. “Sure, we can reschedule.” And so the it was decide. Same time Friday, during your shared free period after breakfast.

~~~

Sebastian had been distant from you following your tiff days prior, and Ominis made himself scarce, never lingering after classes, his guard up at all times. You were still feeling an overwhelming sense of loss after Fig, and the dissolution of the little trio that had gotten you through your fifth year was only adding to that feeling.

Through it all though, you were looking forward to practicing some non verbal Summoner’s Court with Leander. Anything to get your mind into a better state was welcomed right now, even if it was essentially just extra class work.

When your free period Friday morning came around, you were tired as you made your way outside to the Summoner’s Court platform. Leander was waiting there already, smiling at you as you approached.

“Morning. Ready to get the ball rolling?” He asked as you stepped up on the platform, chuckling at his own pun with a smirk on his face.

“Hopefully I can get it rolling this time.” You remarked, eyes rolling at his joke. “How’d you do it so easily in class the other day?”

He shrugged. “Was just focused. It seemed like your mind was elsewhere. I think that was your problem.”

Oh, how right he was. You weren’t sure if Leander had always been so annoyingly perceptive or if it was just that overtly obvious that you were already really going through it this year. You nodded at his assertion. “I will try to focus harder. You go first.”

In the same manner he had during class the other day, Leander shut his eyes and took several deep breaths. “Focus on your breathing, let everything else fade away. Concentrate on the ball.” He told you, before pointing his wand and willing one of the balls towards him, without saying the incantation.

He did even better than he had in class, scoring 30 points for himself. He pumped his fist in excitement for himself, before his eyes darted to yours as though seeking validation. He looked almost guilty for doing well at something you’d struggled with. You met him with a smile.

“Good job! Seriously, that’s very impressive. Non verbal casting is supposed to be really difficult. You’re making it look easy.”

“I may have practiced a bit more when I was waiting on you the other day.” He said with a little grin. He took a few steps back and gestured for you to take your turn. “I know you can do this.”

You knew you could too. If learning non verbal casting was something that was taught midway through fifth year, no doubt you��d have crushed the challenge. You’d felt like you could do anything then. This year was different. You did your best to clear your head of everything else that was weighing you down, of your feelings of inadequacy, of your crumbling friendships. You kept your eyes locked on your ball as you cast and this time it came rolling towards you, stopping beside Leander’s.

“You did it! Nicely done!” He exclaimed as you jumped and laughed.

You couldn’t explain why, but in that moment, you had a strong urge to throw your arms around his neck and embrace him… and it seemed like he felt it too. He took a step closer to you, holding eye contact with you, each of you with a wide grin on your face. He reached out towards you then hesitated before playfully nudging your shoulder, then cleared his throat.

“Thank you!” You replied, a beat too late for the pause to not be slightly uncomfortable.

As small as the achievement was, it had been awhile since you felt like you accomplished something… and the last time you had, any feeling of pride you had were quickly swallowed by overwhelming loss and guilt. But not this time. You felt genuine joy, if only for a few moments, before a palpable awkwardness settled between the two of you.

“You’re up.” You said and looked away for just a moment, before stepping back and watching Leander gather himself, closing his eyes to concentrate.

By the end of your shared free period, you’d completed a few games of Summoner’s Court, getting better with your non verbal casts each round, and sharpened your wit with some friendly banter. Score wise, you’d lost to Leander every round, but the score wasn’t what mattered this time, so you took your losses gracefully, and Leander didn’t gloat this time. You were confident now that next Charms class, you’d be able to show Professor Ronan some serious improvement.

The rest of your day was largely uneventful. The small victories you had with your non verbal casting had you in a good mood that spanned most of the rest of the day, until you got to your first double lesson of the day – Herbology – which was shared with the Slytherins. Back in fifth year, in these double lessons, you’d sit between Sebastian and Ominis, but of course that changed with the start of sixth year. Ominis would sit himself clear across the room whenever he could, leaving you beside Sebastian. But today, with Sebastian still bemoaning the fact that despite your best efforts, you couldn’t get Ominis to divulge Anne’s whereabouts, Sebastian sat himself as far away from you as he could, too.

So you were agitated in Herbology, feeling a bit alone, until the empty potting station that Sebastian usually filled beside you, was instead filled by Leander. You were fine with this, but when you looked Sebastian’s way from across and down the row, he was in the middle of the most dramatic eye roll you’d ever seen, followed by a look of contempt over your new company. You shook your head and rolled your eyes at Sebastian, Leander sitting by, watching the silent exchange.

“What’s got his wand in a knot?” Leander asked quietly, leaning in towards you a bit with his eyes still on Sebastian. He’d been able to tell since the other day in the Great Hall that something was off to do with you and the Slytherin, regardless of the fact you told him otherwise.

“Who knows.” You replied dismissively. You weren’t about to tell Leander that of course Sebastian wouldn’t be happy that you were spending time with someone he considered to be a bit of a rival whilst the two of you were in a petty spat.

Leander sighed. You knew your reply wasn’t good enough for him, and you didn’t doubt that he actually cared about whatever you were going through that was clearly troubling you. But Herbology class wasn’t the time or place for that conversation, and you weren’t sure if such a time or place even existed... You had too much else on your mind to stop and consider the growing feeling of warmth you had when in Leander’s presence.

The sound of Professor Garlick’s voice ringing through the greenhouse drew all attention to her. Leander had looked like he’d wanted to say something else to you, but he thought better of it, and turned his head to face the Professor. The class listened attentively to her explaining that the Fanged Geraniums would need tended to regularly this term, and that each student would be expected to procure several fangs for used in Potions later on in the year. You and the rest of your peers donned the precautionary dragon hide gloves and got to work.

As class was dismissed, you were shoving your gloves and textbook back into your satchel, chatting casually with both Leander and Garreth who had been seated to Leander’s other side, when Sebastian passed by making his exit from the greenhouse, bumping his shoulder hard into yours in the process.

Leander and Garreth both shot him a look before turning back to you, expressions of ‘what the hell?’ on their faces. You scoffed, excusing yourself from your housemates, and followed Sebastian out of the room, grabbing his arm and pulling him aside in the greenhouses atrium for a word. You kept hold of his arm and watched the rest of your classmates filter slowly out of the greenhouse and through the large doors returning to the castle, ensuring you were alone before addressing him. Your Gryffindor friends brought up the rear of the line, Leander looking over his shoulder at you before disappearing through the large green doors.

You released Sebastian’s arm before you spoke. “Have you got something to say?” You asked Sebastian, returning every bit of snark he’d given you through Herbology.

“No, I don’t.” He said, standing with his arms crossed in front of you.

“Well, I do. How long are you going to be angry at me when I tried to help you? I tried speaking to Ominis. I did all I could.”

“As long as I want.” He replied, sounding like a petulant child, taking a bratty stance with his weight shifted to one leg, his arms still folded as he looked at you.

“This is ridiculous, Sebastian! We’ve both already lost our friendships with Ominis, do you really want to lose each other too?” You tried to reason with him. The argument was so obvious to you, you couldn't wrap your head around why he was acting this way.

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “What do you care? You’ve got Prewett and Weasley now.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Don’t be daft! You know you’re my best friend!”

“Right. I’ve got to get to class.” He said and headed off without another word.

You shut your eyes tight and leaned back against the glass wall as he walked away, disappearing through the doors exiting the atrium. You heard him shout at someone, or perhaps at his own situation, after the door had shut behind him, but you couldn’t make out what he’d said.

You sank down the wall, letting your head fall to your bent knees, wondering how despite your best efforts, rather than him coming around after a few days had passed, things with Sebastian had somehow seemed to get worse.

Could I have done something differently? Did I take the wrong approach speaking with Ominis?

Thoughts of what you could have done and things you should have said instead flooded your mind, and you could feel tears threatening to spill over your eyelids. You could have easily let yourself wallow in your feelings – it was difficult to think of doing mostly anything else at the moment – but you had Transfiguration class to get to, so you wiped your eyes, pulled yourself up, and headed to class, arriving only a minute or so late.

~~~

You absentmindedly went through the motions that propelled you through the rest of the school day, your exchange with Sebastian occupying far too much of your mind.

Why did he have to be so difficult?

You attempted to relax amongst your housemates that evening in the common room around the fire, your legs curled comfortably underneath you in an armchair with a book on your lap, your eyes laid on the page unmoving, the chatter around you sounding dull in your ears as your mind wandered elsewhere. Not waiting to be the first of your peers to retire to bed for the evening, you waited awhile, daydreaming, as one by one they slowly left your peripheral vision to head upstairs to the dorms. You nodded and said goodnight to those sitting around you as you headed upstairs to your dorm to ready yourself for bed.

You settled yourself into bed and drew the surrounding curtains closed tight. You knew that sleep would not come easily to you tonight, your mind playing and replaying your exchange with Sebastian.

You tossed and turned until your exhaustion finally won out over your minds inexplicable need to dwell on conversations you couldn’t change.

Scenes of fifth year played in your mind, flashes of green light mixed with images of things you wished you could forget... Sebastian’s face as he uttered the spell that would end his uncle’s life and simultaneously end his closest friendships... Professor Figs body slowly giving in to its final rest after helping you through a battle no teenager should have had to go through in the first place… Things that most people wouldn’t be able to fathom in their wildest dreams was your history, and it plagued your present, even in your sleep.

Two hours had passed when you shot straight up, tears in your eyes, your breath coming in gasps and your forehead sweaty, as you realized it was just a nightmare. You were no longer under the castle in your personal hell, but in your bed. The panic slowly subsided, but you couldn’t lay back down just yet. You slowly pulled your bed curtains open, your eyes adjusting to the darkness of the dorm, all was still and silent in the room around you.

If you were being honest, you were surprised the nightmares hadn’t hit you sooner upon your return to Hogwarts. Through the summer holiday, they had been frequent. You made your way down to the common room, needing time to clear your head before you’d feel comfortable enough to try to sleep again.

The large room was quiet and dim, such a stark contrast to how lively it was during the day. It was almost eerie. You headed for your favorite armchair but froze in your tracks when you noticed a tuft of fiery red hair against the back of the sofa next to it.

“Leander?” You asked. Your voice into the silence of the room startling him.

His body turned and his head whipped around to face you. “MC, what are you doing up?” He asked, surprised by the sudden company, but not sounding unhappy to see you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply, and headed to sit near him, taking the spot on the other end of the sofa rather than on the armchair as you’d planned to.

The smile he had when he first turned and saw you faded as he looked you over, taking in the small details that gave away that you were not awake right now by choice. Your hair at your scalp was damp with sweat and your eyes were red as though you’d been crying. Your skin was pale, unsettled from the fright that had awoken you.

“What’s wrong?” His tone now taking on a more serious edge, genuine concern filling his voice and plain to see on his face.

“I uh... I had a nightmare. That’s all.” You said, offering him a half smile. “It’s fine… I sort of... get them a lot.”

“Looks like it was a hell of a nightmare.” He said.

You sighed and nodded, settling yourself more comfortably in your seat. Silence filled the air again. You could hardly take his eyes lingering on you, studying you as you sat there. “What were you doing up?” You asked him to break the silence.

He held up a book that was sat beside him. “Lost track of time reading.” He said and shrugged. “It’s easy to do when the common room is quiet.”

You just nodded, the air awkward between the two of you.

He looked at you incredulously, not wanting to be insensitive but also seemingly wanting to say more. “If I may, um… I get the feeling that a nightmare isn’t the only thing that’s been bothering you.” He said and turned his body on the sofa to face you better. “You’ve been off since the train ride here.”

You nodded slowly. His assertion shocked you in the way it was totally spot on. His perceptiveness made you chuckle a bit, mostly in embarrassment, for the fact that he’d caught on so early and actually seemed to care enough to call you on your behavior.

“What gave it away?” You asked him.

“We were on that train for hours, and you never once turned the page in the book you were staring at.” He said rather bluntly, but the look in his eyes told you he was nervous bringing it up

You grinned a bit, as did he after you reacted first. “Noted. I’ll try to be more convincing next time.” You said, a tinge of sass in your voice perhaps as a way to downplay his observations.

But at the same time… though a part of you wanted to keep your struggles internal, another part of you, perhaps an equally large part, felt good knowing he could really see you. Perhaps you weren’t quite as alone as you felt.

But Leander wasn’t finished yet. “I can tell there is something wrong between you and Sebastian. And Ominis. The three of you were inseparable last year and now…” He trailed off and cleared his throat, not wanting to get too deep into what he knew would likely be a painful topic for you. “I know it isn't my business, but if you wanted to talk…”

You felt a pull to tell him, a feeling you had a few days prior, when you’d slept through your plans with him… and the feeling was only stronger now. But again, you bit it back.

“I’m fine. And my friends and I will be fine.” You said, trying to sound more confident in this statement than you actually were. You could tell from his facial expression that your attempt was not successful.

What could he really say to that, though? He didn’t believe you but he wasn’t about to beg you for information you were clearly too stubborn to offer to him, even when he could tell you could use a friend. You could see him pondering but all he did was shrug and offer up, “Well, I read in the common room most nights, when it quiets down. If you ever want a listening ear, or some company.”

You offered him a little smile, and nodded in acknowledgment of his offer. “I appreciate it, really. But, I won’t keep you from your book any longer tonight. I’m heading back to bed.” You told him before getting up and heading back upstairs and to your dorm.

~~~

The longer Sebastian went without coming around and apologizing to you like you’d expected him to do within a few days of your little spat, the worse your days seemed to get. You knew he was stubborn, but the more time between you, the less hopeful you were for him to realize he was in the wrong here.

A week out from your last words with Sebastian, you were still quite hurt, but now anger had settled in alongside of it. A good day, in the past week, would have been defined by not begrudgingly sneering at other’s friend groups as they enjoyed their time between classes or at meal times. You didn’t have a good day in the last week.

It felt too early in the year for you to be mindlessly going through the motions, but that was the point you were at. Your classes, that should have been interesting and engaging to you simply felt lackluster. You had been looking forward to Crossed Wands to ease the drone of lessons, but like everything else in your life at the current moment, it just couldn’t go as you’d planned.

After Sebastian dodged you during the first rounds of Crossed Wands for the year, partnering up with Nerida Roberts instead, you were less confident than ever that he’d decide to make amends. Dueling against him, rather than beside him wasn’t something you pictured yourself ever doing, but you fell into a rhythm dueling alongside of Leander instead, and it went better than you could have imagined. The two of you were focused, and seemed to anticipate each others next move with incredible accuracy, playing to each others strengths and weaknesses, and coming out on top in the end.

That win did great things for you self esteem, which had been suffering tremendously as of late in the absence of your two closest friends from the year before. For a few precious moments, you weren’t thinking of the things you’d lost out on lately. You let yourself be present in the moment, and to feel happiness. You watched Sebastian brood in his loss, a look of disgust on his face, while you felt yourself being pulled into a tight embrace from behind, and felt your feet leave the stone floor beneath you. Turning your head to the side, you blushed, catching a glimpse of Leander’s wide grin as he celebrated your efforts, playfully lifting you up for a moment whilst cheering.

Sebastian’s loss, along with witnessing Leander’s triumphant display with you seemed to add fuel to the Slytherin’s fire, sharing no post duel pleasantries with you as a graceful loser would, he marched through the gates and out of the clock tower while glaring daggers at you. Even with the threatening look on his face, it was hard to feel too upset by Sebastian’s disdain when your chest was fluttering at the sensation of having been wrapped in Leander’s arms just moments prior.

Despite your win, after an overall not so great week and with a larger distance between you and the friend you longed to be close with again, your nightmares that night came with a vengeance, as though punishing you for feeling a shred of normalcy. You were always quick to slip from your dorm when you’d wake in the night, chest heaving. You never wanted to bother your dorm mates, your startles were never silent. Tonight you shot awake with scrambled images of Sebastian, and the look he gave you as he stormed from the clock tower, in your mind. Although you couldn’t make sense of what had actually transpired in your dream, you had a heavy feeling in your chest, as though you and he had been fighting. It felt all too real, and left you choking tears at the thought. Your body was trembling as you descended the stairs into the common room shortly after midnight, a cold sweat on your brow leaving you with chills.

You let out a quiet sigh in relief seeing Leander, knowing you didn’t have to be alone this evening while you calmed yourself. Noticing the sound of feet on the common room floor coming from behind him, Leander peered over his shoulder to see you, and shut his book as you sat on the sofa beside him.

“Another nightmare?” He asked as you wrapped your robe around you and tucked your legs under your body as you settled next to him.

“Mhm.” You said and nodded. You were quiet for several moments, you gaze lingering on the fireplace in front of you, seemingly in a daydream. Your mind was turning over the idea that you may well have truly lost your friendship with your Slytherin counterpart, as the details of your nightmare started to come back to you. You just couldn’t shake the feeling your dream had left you with.

“You alright?” Leander asked quietly.

You heard his words but didn’t answer or even turn to look at him. Tears welled and threatened to spill and that just wasn’t something you wanted Leander to see from you. Burying your face in your hands, you muttered that you were fine, but your body language pointed to the contrary. Feeling weak for your emotions and for your vulnerability, you let out a frustrated sigh, then felt a warm hand on your back.

“Come on, come here.” He said softly. His hand moved from your upper back to your shoulder, and pulling you to him gently. You let out a breath and laid your head on his shoulder, allowing him to comfort you. “You aren’t alone. Even if it feels like you are.”

“Thank you, Leander.” You said, turning your body towards his and letting him envelope you in his embrace while your head nuzzled below his chin. You draped an arm across his body, returning his affections, though still unsure what it all meant. You could admit to yourself what you felt about him... the pull deep within you that willed you close to him any chance you could be, and the butterflies that swirled in your chest at his proximity… You liked him. A lot. Even when all of his attention could easily be explained away as friendly, you basked in it, wondering if he felt the same.

After a few moments silence you offered, “I wish I could tell you everything… but much of what is troubling me aren’t my issues to share.”

“Why does that not surprise me, MC?” He asked with a dry, humorless laugh. “You’re always there for everyone else, bearing their burdens, but what about yo-”

You cut him off mid thought, “I don’t need a lecture.”

“No, you don’t, do you? You already know where I was heading.” He said and sighed, holding you a little tighter, his hand slowly running up and down your upper arm.

And you did know where he was going. You knew deep down you did a lot for your friends, perhaps even too much, to the point where anyone’s disappointment in you for any shortcomings, haunted your sleep. But you’d always been a people pleaser. You wanted to help your friends. And you thought it was better for you to say yes and fail, than to say no and not try. Or at least… that’s what you always told yourself.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place to say anything.” Leander said after a few moments contemplation.

“It’s okay.” You took slow, deep breaths, letting yourself calm down in his arms. You focused on the gentle feeling of his fingers along your arm, and the crackling fire in front of the two of you, relaxing for several long minutes in comfortable silence before either of you spoke again.

“It’s getting really late.” He said. A gentle way to suggest that you head back to sleep, likely so he could get some rest himself.

You nodded, sitting up slowly, meeting his eyes and exchanging shy smiles with each other. Leander’s cheeks were always rosy but tonight you noticed they were especially so. “Good night, Leander.” You told him before getting up from the sofa. “Thank you again, for being here.”

“Of course. Good night, MC.” He said. Leander watched you as you left the common room and headed up the stairs towards the dorms, staying back just a few more minutes to finish the chapter in the book he’d been reading when you’d came down earlier.

~~~

When you made your way into the Potions classroom the following day after lunch, you did not expect to see Sebastian setting his materials up at the station you’d been sharing with Leander and Garreth for the past week and a half. Thinking of the sight before you further, you knew he’d have intentionally gotten to the classroom early in order to be able to secure the spot.

Of your new Gryffindor trio, you were the first to the classroom and you headed straight up to Sebastian, a look of curiosity on your face as you greeted him cautiously with a nod. “Sebastian.”

“Hey.” He said softly, his brows furrowed in what looked to be embarrassment as you set up your station beside him. “Can you meet me in the Undercroft after the lesson?” He asked you, leaning close, his voice hushed.

You nodded, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. In your heart, you knew one of two possibilities would be incoming. He would either plead for you to talk to Ominis again… Something you’d have to refuse for your own good… Or he’d apologize for the stress he’d caused you lately. You were crossing your fingers for the latter.

Your classmates slowly started to trickle into the room as time drew closer for the lesson. Leander arrived before Garreth and rather apprehensively claimed the third and final station at your table, leaving the other Gryffindor with an amused and confused expression as he entered a few moments later, eyeing up the configuration and chuckling as he approached.

“Right, good luck with that.” Garreth said, nudging your shoulder in jest as he walked past to take an empty spot at the next grouping of tables.

Tension was thick around you, but before things could become too uncomfortable, Professor Sharp made his entrance and began the lesson, commanding everyone attention, and giving you something else to focus on besides the odd mix of your friends around you.

The hands on lesson was a welcomed distraction, while it lasted, but once it was over, you felt the knot in your stomach pulling you back to earth as Sebastian met you with expectant eyes as your peers gathered their belongings and left the room slowly.

“MC?” It was Leander’s voice that snapped you from your thoughts as you packed your potions book into your satchel. “Would you like to walk to Transfiguration together?” He offered.

“Oh… I – um, I’ll meet you there. You go on.” You said, tripping over your words.

You could see the look of disappointment on his face, as subtle as it was. In a way, it made you feel good, the small indication that he wanted to spend any extra time with you that he could – you wanted the time with him too. But your plans with Sebastian came first, and so you followed the Slytherin out of the room as Leander finished packing away his materials. Walking quickly to catch up with Sebastian, the two of you made your ways through the corridors silently side by side, through the sea of other students, and to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

Waiting until the coast was clear, the two of you entered the clockwork door of the Undercroft, heading into the dank expanse of the room, a sense of dread of what was to come filling you. Sebastian leaned back against one of the large stone columns in the center of the room, his hand at the back of his neck as he contemplated his words. You sat atop an adjacent stack of crates in waiting, your eyes on the ground, as not to pressure him to speak before he was ready.

After a few moments, Sebastian cleared his throat and let out a groan. “Look, MC. I’m... sorry.” He said, his voice slow and resolute.

You met his gaze and exhaled a sigh of relief as he uttered the words you’d been wanting to hear for the better part of two weeks. You hoisted yourself from the stack of crates, moving to him with arms open, and he met you with an equally enthusiastic embrace.

He continued muttering his apologies with his face buried in the crook of your neck. “It wasn’t fair of me to take out my anger on you, especially when you tried to help me.” He said, his voice now cracking with emotion. “Will you please forgive me? I need my best friend back.”

“I’ll forgive you.” You said, and immediately felt his arms tighten around you, and heard his sigh of relief.

“Thank you, MC. You’re too good a friend to me.” He said, finally releasing you from his embrace, allowing you to step back a bit, and smooth out your robes. You nodded at his words and he gave you one of his little half smiles. “You ought to get to Transfiguration... You’ll probably be late as it is. Sorry for that, too.” He added.

“Right... I’ll see you later on, then, yeah?” You hated that you had to cut your making of amends short, but he was right, you had a class to get to.

“Mhm. Homework in the library after lessons?” He proposed – a ritual that the two of you had adopted during fifth year that you were all to eager to resume.

“I’ll meet you then.” You told him, a grin on your face as you turned to leave for class, waving over your shoulder at Sebastian as you headed through the gate and out of the Undercroft.

It felt as though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, as you headed to your next class. The stress and anxiety you’d been carrying recently seemingly melted away with Sebastian’s apologies, and there was a lightness to your stride you hadn’t had in days.

Your change in mood didn’t go unnoticed when you finally strode through the door and into the Transfiguration classroom, just a few minutes late. Professor Weasley gave you a stern look, pausing her lesson just for a moment as you took your seat beside Leander.

“That will be five points from Gryffindor, MC. For your lack of punctuality.”

“Sorry professor.” You said as you pulled your materials from your satchel. Professor Weasley resumed her lesson while you quickly got to the corresponding page in your textbook. Despite the loss of house points, you were still feeling better than you had in awhile.

“You’re too cheery for someone showing up late to class and losing house points.” Leander remarked under his breath, noticing the subtle grin on your face as you got settled.

“Maybe so.” You grinned and whispered back, before turning your attention to Professor Weasley for the remainder of the class period.

~~~

Following the days lessons, you excused yourself from your house mates as you left Transfiguration, parting ways to meet with Sebastian, you made your way to the Library. Sitting with him in the back corner of the Library, leaning over your parchment and text books, working together while conversing and making jokes, it had felt as though the argument that plagued your mind as of late hadn’t even happened.

You told him of your nightmares, for which he apologized. You teased him playfully for yours and Leander’s win in crossed wands, a victory he finally admitted was well earned and deserved. It was in these moments of banter you knew that your friendship would be okay. It had survived many trials before, and this likely wouldn’t be the last, but you were more confident than ever that it would stand the test of time.

Homework long completed and dinner fast approaching, you and Sebastian headed for the Great Hall together, where you joined him at the Slytherin table for a meal the first time since sixth year began. You were comfortable. Happy.

Remaining in the Great Hall well past dinner, you and Sebastian watched as few at a time the other students around you headed back to their common rooms for the evening, while the two of you took your time having an evening spot of tea.

When you did finally go your separate ways that evening, you were still riding a bit of a high when you made your way through the Fat Lady’s portrait and into your common room just before curfew. The room was still lively, with mostly fellow sixth, and seventh years about, while most of the younger students were in their dorms. You crossed the room towards Nellie, Garreth and Leander near the fireplace, the boys hunched over a wizard’s chess board on the sofa between them, and Nellie perched on the arm rest of the sofa behind Garreth.

Garreth was muttering under his breath as you joined the group. You sat on the armrest behind Leander, peering over him at the game board, one of Garreth’s rooks being brutally overtaken by one of Leander’s knights.

“Merlin, I’m terrible at this…” Garreth muttered.

“Well, there’s only one way to get better. Keep playing.” Leander told him, chuckling as he awaited Garreth’s next move.

You and Nellie watched the game unfold quietly, letting the boys focus. After about forty minutes, Garreth had officially lost, his last piece tossed unceremoniously off the board by one of Leander’s remaining pieces.

“Right, I’m going to bed.” Garreth said, clapping his hands against his thighs before standing up and stretching, clearly over the game and it’s outcome.

“Oh come on Garreth, don’t be a sore loser.” Leander teased.

Garreth stood from the sofa, shoving Leander’s shoulder playfully as he passed. “Naw, it’s more fun this way.” He said. “Night Lee.” He added as he and Nellie headed out of the common room and up the stairs towards the dorms.

The common room was quiet and empty now, your peers having retired to their dorms while you’d been spectating the game. You moved to sit where Garreth had been, and Leander picked up the chess pieces, putting them back into the folded board for storage. “Good to see that you and Sebastian made up.” Leander said, once your other friends were out of earshot, setting the chessboard aside and turning to face you as he relaxed against the back of the sofa.

You nodded, smiling. “Finally.” You agreed. You knew he’d have something to say of the matter, knowing that Sebastian would have been the reason you were late to Transfiguration after his reappearance at your table in Potions. He’d have seen the pair of you through dinner, and would likely have drawn some conclusions.

“I suppose that’ll be the end of your nightmares.” He said, his eyes right on yours, and an almost wistful expression on his face, his cheeks rosy, as though he was embarrassed he’d even said anything.

“Maybe for now.” You shrugged. “That’s a good thing, though.” You said, though you understood where his feelings were coming from. It was clear to you through his actions lately, that he really enjoyed you coming to him in the night, when you needed comfort. You enjoyed it too, and he deserved to know.

You scooted closer to him, taking his hand and holding it as it rest in his lap. “It doesn’t mean I’ll stop spending time with you in the evenings, though.”

“Oh?” He questioned, his lips curling into a little smile while his gaze laid on your entwined fingers.

“Just because I might not have nightmares as frequently anymore, doesn’t mean I won’t still want to be close to you.” You said, your thumb rubbing gently against the back of his hand. “You make me feel comfortable… and safe.” You admitted.

“That’s… All I wanted to hear.” He said quietly, his grin spreading as you gave him a look of adoration.

Without a word in response from you, he leaned in towards you, gently pressing his lips to yours, still holding you hand. His lips were soft against yours, the kiss short and chaste but more than enough to make your heart race and your cheeks flush pink. His lips had barely parted from yours when your eyes met for a moment and you moved your free hand to his cheek, your gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips, guiding him to kiss you again, this time with an urgency… you wanted more.

You felt his hands at your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your hand ran up his chest to his shoulder, then to his neck deepening your kiss with a gentle tug there as you parted your lips for his. Leander groaned as his tongue brushed you lip before delving into your mouth, your kiss becoming heated, and only breaking when you were both short of breath.

Leander let out an amused sigh, shaking his head, seeming to be in almost disbelief of the kiss you’d shared, his already ruddy cheeks growing even redder the longer your eyes drank him in.

“That was… better than I’d hoped.” You said, smiling at him and taking his hand in yours again, your face as red as his, your heart still racing.

“So you were hoping to kiss me then?” He asked playfully, and you nodded. “Only good dreams from now on.” He said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

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zeprussia · 2 months

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source

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zeprussia · 2 months

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The perfect ya romance! So romantic, dynamic characters, funny and emotional all at once.

Riley is a die-hard theater kid. When her best friend and she takes her mom's car (without a driver's license) to go see Waitress traveling Broadway, she does not look forward to paying for her crimes when she gets caught. She has to work at her dad's game store for 8 weeks while also not participating in any theater activities. When her ex-boyfriend shows up to obnoxiously gloat at the shop, she accidentally blurts out that she is, in fact, in another relationship.... with Nathan, a gamer boy that she is not exactly on good terms with.

This had so many things I loved in it. The incorporation of the game shop feeling like a home away from home to the many that gather there for different reasons is something I can definitely relate to. Not to mention the undeniable charm of the two main characters. I thoroughly enjoyed every second of this read!

Out January 9, 2024!

Thank you, Netgalley and Publisher, for this Arc!

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zeprussia · 3 months

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MORE DUCKIES!! MOREEE

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zeprussia · 3 months

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👿🌈😇 wip

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zeprussia · 3 months

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Circus devil and a taxidermy deer start a podcast together!

Or: my Hazbin hotel dreamcore au.😂

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zeprussia · 3 months

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zeprussia · 3 months

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Far away - bg3 Astarion comic

I hope you enjoyed

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zeprussia · 3 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 Moodboards

Astarion Ancunin

Gale Dekarios

Karlach Cliffgate

Lae'zel of Creche K'liir

Shadowheart Hallowleaf

Wyll Ravengard

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zeprussia · 3 months

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-ˏˋ⋆ ᴡ ᴇ ʟ ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴇ ⋆ˊˎ-

you can call me Hope. my pronouns are she/her and i'm in my 20s. i've recently gotten back into reading and acotar is what drew me back in. this is my sideblog dedicated to the characters i've fallen in love with. i no longer use my primary blog. you can find my reading recs here. you can find my ABBA x ACOTAR masterlist here.

*rainbow banner is by @cafekitsune, as are all the banners/dividers you'll find in my posts*

☪ = smut ☁︎ = fluff `♡´= angst

*this mainly applies to my imagines. for my series, you can find the warnings on their masterlist.

↠ A Court of Shadows & Moonlight | rhy's sister oc

series masterlist

Summary: Daughter of the Night Court’s High Lord. Half Illyrian. Half High Fae. Rhysand’s little sister. A Dreamer. Only few know her as Valeria and only one knows her truth. She is the moon, a lonely girl cratered by imperfections, and he is her night, the one who helps her shine bright.

↠ Give 'Em Hell | beron's daughter oc

series masterlist

Summary: Beron Vanserra is a man with many sinful secrets but there is one that desires to punish him. His daughter. His true firstborn and heir to the Autumn Court.

↠ A Field of Dandelions | witch reader

series masterlist

Summary: Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

↠ I've Been Waiting For You ☁︎ `♡´

[read here] [bonus]

Summary: After centuries of waiting, Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate. (this is kinda inspired by Alice & Jasper from twilight.)

↠ Stuck on You

series masterlist

Summary: Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. He thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. This time for good.

↠ Lay All Your Love On Me ☪☁︎

[read here] [bonus]

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

↠ Wanna Be Yours | healer reader

series masterlist

Summary: When the Night Court and Dawn Court strike a deal, healers in exchange for Illyrian training, you rush at the opportunity to leave your home. You plan to keep a low profile but upon meeting the High Lord of night, your efforts are futile. He takes an instant liking to you and is set on being yours.

↠ The Sun and the Moon ☁︎

summary: Rhysand wants to write you the perfect poem for Valentine's Day and calls Cassian and Azriel for help.

[read here]

↠ Like An Angel

series masterlist

summary: Eris is dancing on the edge of despair when he finds you. The one person who reignites the flickering flame within him, breathing life back into his weary soul. His mate. Too bad you’re betrothed to his younger brother. (each imagine can be read as a stand alone)

↠ 'Cause Somewhere in the Crowd There's You `♡´

[read here]

summary:When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

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zeprussia · 3 months

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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.”

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.”

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.

“The tracking…I knew of it.”

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.”

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate.

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

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