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latent-sense-of-loyalty · 11 months

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**Oneshot**

**Word count: 2738**

Masterlist

AO3

CW: (All characters featured in this work are 18+) extremely romantic fluff/tease

AN: Set in the universe of "A Latent Sense of Loyalty"

If you wish to be tagged for updates, please let me know.

Lilium could almost hear her teeth audibly grind together as she stacked yet another book on the growing mountain surrounding her. Her illuminated wand scoured the spines above her, trying to see if there was anything close to what she needed. The only answer she received was silence that had been broken by an audible groan from the witch.

March 8th, 1893

“Oh come on, it has to be somewhere in all this”

With a swirl of her wand, the books quickly found their respective homes on the empty shelf, her feet dragging her to the next row to start the hunt again. She had been doing this for the past three hours, moving from shelf to shelf, to find one measly book. Lilium had been lucky enough to catch Scribner mid Sebastian scolding. She knew that she would be paying his distraction in full with the rest of her savings for the month in Honeydukes. As close as they wore, his services were never on the cheap side.

What made her visibly shudder would be the scolding Ominis would give to Lilium for, again, getting Sebastian to help her sneak into the library after hours. No matter her reasoning for wanting the place to herself to find such a personal book, Ominous wouldn't hear it. Lilium knew how to get back on his good side though, the two unable to stay upset with each other for longer than thirty minutes.

“Don’t guilt yourself out of here just yet…. Tonight you will find the book.” Her thoughts rose louder than the whispers this time, much to her surprise. It only spurred her on to find the book faster. Luckily, this was the last area she had to look. Over the month Lilium had done her diligence with combing the first floor and restricted section of the library. Sebastian and Ominis had even offered their help to try and find something close, but she always told them it was not a very big deal. Each time the pain of guilt grew in her gut.

Lilium could not tell them they still keep her awake at night, the whispers, the promises of nightmares, seeing Eleazar’s gasping body on the ground. She just told them she needed that book.

For another hour she combed through the rows of books on the second level, each one making her more frustrated and disappointed by the last. “Books of arithmancy and you, how to properly heal an infected niffler bite, how can you prevent unwanted wand explosions. All thrown behind her as she became more frantic from the exhaustion setting into her mind. Her fingers frantically raked over their spines, trying to see if there was some kind of alleviant for all this. Lilium was close to giving up, until she saw one book catch her eye at the end of the walkway, one that had been left on the table, opened somewhere in the middle.

The sight immediately set off alarm bells in her mind, quickly pressing herself against one of the shelves to hide. Has Scribner come back? Lilium was sure in the chaos of throwing books and tomes she would have been heard clearly. Lilium tried to hold her breath, waiting to see if there was any kind of extra noise. A few minutes passed before Lilium gave herself the go ahead, slowly walking towards the book. As she got closer, the first few title words made her quickly race her pacing. Her hands reached out for the book, shaking in excitement and relief.

Alleviates and remedies for the Mind’s Mental Turmoils.

Lilium hugged the thickly bound book close to her chest, the excitement of having something to finally help with the whispers and nightmares so she could finally sleep at night after a month. They had become so loud as of recently, it had been hard to even pay attention in class, which to her was unacceptable enough. But with this, with these hidden secrets, she would be able to truly quiet them for at least a while. There was an issue she had however with this book's placement in the library. From what Lilium had researched herself trying to track this thing down, it was most commonly found in the restricted section.

Why would it be up here?

Lilium knew she did not have a lot of time to stay here to dwell. For now she just wanted to get the book back to the common room and start brewing whatever it asked. Turning on her heel she began to walk down to the opposite side of the upper landing. As she passed a few of the shelves, something else made her take a moment. Her footsteps were not this heavy…. And the room wouldn't echo them to such a degree either.

Both were quick to unsheath their wands, illuminating across the balconies so that they could see each other from the other sides. Lilium nearly dropped her wand as her eyes met his in the expansive distance, his own mirroring her utter shock at seeing him here. Both stood in place, not daring to move before the other. Lilium knew it had been some time since the two were alone in any kind of setting. After the incident with his leg, both had made that silent agreement that some kind of space would be beneficial to… whatever it was that happened at the Yule Ball. Even from this distance, she could see his own nervousness as he searched over her, eyes lingering on the book she hugged tightly against her chest. Yet as much as he trailed over her, they never took long to find her eyes again, every time making her chest feel like it had caught fire.

Without a word or motion of acknowledgement, they both took the first step together, then another, until both were slowly walking in unison past the shelves. Not once did their eyes break apart, always maintaining the same pace so that they were perfectly aligned. With every step Lilium could feel her face become more flush, her pulse thrumming now in her ears. Any potential for the whispers to invade the moment were thankfully obliterated as they took another step.

Halfway to the staircases now.

As the shelves distorted their views of each other, with each step she noticed something in Aesop begin to shift. From the start his posture, expression, resolve seemed nearly timid.It was as if he had seen her as a ghost instead of a tangible thing for him to touch, to feel. As they took another step, his eyes grew darker, expression hardening to one of a serious restraint. She could see his fingers just twitch as she swallowed what little saliva had collected from her nerves. It was his eyes however, even from the distance they were at, that made the rest of her body shudder to life. Lilium had that very memory of his eyes branded forever into her memory, the expression he all but gifted her with before devouring her lips against that wall.

They were only a few steps away from the stairs, and now the tension in the room was at a breaking point. Lilium swore at a point she caught his familiar scent, the cedar mixed with that light fragrant smoke from the cauldrons he pondered over. It always made her mind spin, and now her senses begged to be blessed with it once more.

Another step, both of their hands reaching for the bannister at the same time. For another moment, both waited for the other to initiate the descent, eyes raking over each other. Lilium could now get a better view of Aesop, his usual keepness now dishevelled. The usual coat and vest was discarded, this time just settling for his buttoned white shirt, she could just see, past the open buttons by his collar bone, tufts of peppered curled hair underneath. Lilium could not help letting out a long breath as her knuckles went white holding the stair bannister. His own eyes fell on her untucked shirt, clearly more buttons open than should be, giving him a teasing view of just the hint of her cleavage. Judging by his sharp intake of breath, and how he shifted where he stood, Lilium knew exactly what had flooded into his own thoughts.

Eyes meeting once more, holding each other in that distant embrace, they took the first step down. Both mirrored their growing desperations, hesitations, and yearning. Slowly they descended together, keeping their pace, one step at a time. It felt like a near eternity, yet before she could think anymore of their time, she stumbled on the last step, nearly dropping the book from her grasp. Before she had a moment to catch herself, familiar arms found themselves around her, steadying her shaking frame against his own. Where just moments before she begged for that lingering scent to find her, now she drowned in the fragrance of him. What had felt as being a journey across the universe of the library to even see his eyes, now every part of him was holding her close, eyes searching her own for some kind of push, anything to justify what he struggled to hold back.

Lilium’s hand slowly snaked up his chest, the feeling so familiar yet foreign to her. What before was a rush of momentary bliss, this felt like time had stopped just for them. Time that, even ticking on, granted them this moment of reprieve within their delicate touches. A moment only to soon be broken by the sound of a distant door opening and footprints coming down the stairs. Quickly the two pushed apart from each other, and with no words spoken flew into the brown of books around them.

It had only taken Lilium about thirty seconds to realise she had lost Aesop once more in the labyrinth of shelves. Her eyes quickly caught sight of Scribner, and at the ready as she quickly made her way to the opposite end of the room from Lilium, buying more time to sink further into the alcoves. Her breathing was heavy, heady. The excitement of Aesop’s proximity and now the adrenaline of being found by the head librarian only seemed to accelerate her pulsing adrenaline. After slinking past a few more shelves she pressed her back against a far corner, the exit only a few short turns and well placed crouches away. Yet before she could think of leaving, she heard something shift behind her, something slowly move by her hand. Lilium froze in terror, thinking this time was it for sure, until a familiar scent wafted around her. Fear slowly evolved into excitement as she kept her back pressed firmly to the shelf, yet her hand was exposed now to the empty air of the shelf.

As her eyes drifted closed from his cologne, a ghost of a touch made them shoot open as she let out a small gasp, earning a quiet chuckle from the other side of the shelf. The touch returned, starting from the very tip of her middle finger. His own calloused tip took a moment to enjoy the soft feeling of her own, before the touch slowly crawled along, his fingertip leaving a shivering heat behind. Lilium swore as it raised higher, her own heart rose with it. As gently and soft as possible, it found its way to her palm, slowly circling before making the same way back to the tip. Biting her lower lip, Lilium did everything to stifle the moan threatening to escape her from his gentle torture. Another finger now joined, recreating the same pattern on her ring finger, before continuing on all the remaining digits. She swore she could melt into the shelf, trying to get him to feel her touch on all the other parts of her skin that screamed for his worship.

Yet they stood there, for what seemed like an eternity, the most intimate touch Lilium had ever been blessed to receive, soon joined by a low husky voice.

“If…you were coming in the fall,” His hand traced her fingers once more, now dancing and wearing themselves between her own. They felt just as ablaze as her own.

“Id brush the summer by and half a spurn, as housewives do a fly.” His hand began to travel higher now, from her palm to her wrist as his fingers traced around, her body now shivering.

“If I could see you in a year,

I’d wind the months in balls,

And put them each in separate drawers,

Until their time befalls.”

His torture continued travelling up her arm now, her skin now dotted with goosebumps as his low voice entered her mind, slowly melting away at his beautiful words.

“If only centuries delayed,

I’d count them on my hand,

Subtracting till my fingers dropped

Into Van Dieman’s land.”

To Lilium’s surprise, his touch disappeared for a moment, now eliciting a small moan before looking to see if they had been heard, only now just realising the footsteps of the head librarian reaching the stairs leading above the two. Before Lilium could willing herself to move, his loving touch came back, only now finding itself at her exposed neck. This index tiger ran down the line of her collarbone, following its heaving bath to her neck. Lilium grasped onto the shelves white knuckled, doing her best not to collapse and melt.

“If certain, when this life was out,

That yours and mine should be…”

Lilium’s eyes had drifted closed once more, her whole being now raptured by his voice and gentle touch alone. Yet as his scent grew thicker around her, she could feel a sudden warmth brush against her face. Her eyes fluttered open to see his own, looking down at her with all the love and carnal desperation in the world. Slowly, from her neck, his finger traced up her jaw, gently grasping her chin to keep her eyes on his.

“I’d toss it yonder like a rind,“ He spoke barely above a whisper as he leaned closer, their breaths mixing together as their lips stayed only inches apart.

“And taste eternity…”

Neither of them were entirely aware of who leaned in first, but within a microsecond the two were one, their lips finding home with each other's softness and stubble. Her hands flew into his hair, knotting themselves as she pulled Aesop in closer, her tongue daring to taste his lips before he could catch it with his own. His hands had now found their place at her waist, keeping her as close to him as possible. Without thinking her legs rose to wrap around his waist, Aesop now fully supported her against the shelf. For those brief moments, the two wrapped themselves in each other's own promise of eternity, never wanting to ever let go.

Yet, as they broke their lip’s embrace to breath, the steps descending down the stairs only reminded them of their fleeting time. Slowly Aesop let Lilium down, his forehead pressed against hers as fingers massaged her burning skin. Neither of them wanted to let go, to escape this place they had created. Lilium slowly grasped his own chin, lifting his gaze to hers as her own fingers traced his lips.

“We will taste eternity together, Aesop….” Her voice rang like silver bells in his ears, the shiver down his spine nearly making him collapse. With one last broken kiss, she felt his body push away, leaving hers cold in the exposed air as he cleared his throat, distracting the head Librarian to buy Lilium some time. Steeling herself, she clutched the book once more before crouching, slowly and silently making her way towards the door. For a moment she looked back, seeing Aesop being clearly scolded, but for a moment, he looked to her, and gave a subtle wink. Trying her best not to blush obviously, she found her way up the stairs once more, quickly racing to the common room.

For the night, Lilium had forgotten about the book she had worked so hard to find. For the first night in over a month, her dreams were beautiful, the voices all but a memory. For the night, Lilium dreamt of a burning touch on her fingers, tracing her neck and holding her close.

For the night, Lilium dreamt what it would be like to taste eternity with Aesop.

TAGS:@4everflowercore @marine-captain-deku @ryehoneyandinkstains @doom-n-gloomgal @shygurl123456 @handon-h-art @misswildfire @nightless@li-om@dagiweh@anmactireaonair@liadamerondjarin@amatchasky@mellocado @imaginaryismyescape

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp x oc #hogwarts legacy #harry potter fic #hogwarts legacy fic #professor sharp #professor sharp x oc #harry potter #professor aesop sharp x oc #professor aesop sharp #Aesop sharp oneshot #oneshot #harry potter oneshot #spicy oneshot #hogwarts legacy oneshot #ao3

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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months

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Professor Sharp: Can someone give me an example of a mistake?

(Garreth raises his hand)

Professor Sharp: That's a very good example.

#hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy drabble #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes #hogwarts legacy prompt #hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy oneshot #hogwarts legacy funny #hogwarts legacy garreth #garreth weasley drabble #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley imagine #garreth weasley #professor sharp #aesop sharp

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seedsinmygarden · 8 months

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I saw your post on character reactions to the MC coming out as transfem, and wanted to ask you a question/give you a prompt: the MC coming out as a trans guy to professors Fig and Sharp (separately).

(Reasons for this, if you want to know: I want to come out to my family, but I'm not in the best headspace (stuff happened, not related to them), and I need some comfort (these two are my favourite characters, and I see Fig as a father figure).

Sorry for ranting, it wasn't my intention. I love your content, keep up the good work.

Coming out as FTM Trans!

thank you for the compliments, and i’m happy to hear you liked the transfem one! im sorry you’re struggling, i hope this helps bring some comfort to you during tough times. (and please, let me know if anything was said incorrectly or was hurtful to be said! i want to do this right and the last thing i want to do is be hurtful, so please educate me! i will gladly edit it and make any changes to correct.)

Word Count: 1,792 words

Tags/Warnings: Set in a time where Fig didn’t die in the Final Repository Battle. Fluff, mentions of homophobia/transphobia.

PROFESSOR FIG:

Professor Fig had been worried.

That morning, MC had sent him an owl, asking to speak together out on the Viaduct Bridge after dinner. He wondered if he misspoke the last time they were together— he knew something had been troubling them but didn’t want to press, yet he feared he pressed unintentionally.

After Miriam’s death, he found familial love in this now-6th year, seeing them as his own. He knew them well enough that sending a letter to meet after dinner meant that something was going on, and he only hoped he could help them find a solution to whatever it was.

Tugging his robe tighter around him, he watches his breath fog the air in front of his face. The sunset glows along the horizon as students passed him, dinner having come to a close and everyone eager for the warmth of their common rooms to finish the night.

Some stopped to say hello, others had a question on the recently-assigned essay, but it was when MC finally approached that he excused himself and told the other students he would be happy to talk more tomorrow morning before classes, if they had any remaining questions.

Once those students (rather begrudingly) left, he invites MC to join him with a wave. They smiled as they approached, leaning against the rail and looking out into the Hogwarts Valley.

“I see you got my letter. Thank you for meeting me out here.” They tell him and Professor Fig nods.

“Of course. After the tumultous year we shared last year, I see you as my own. You will always hold priorty in my life.”

He watches their smile falter. He continues, a small frown on his face and his brows creasing in concern.

“But I see something troubles you. Is everything alright, MC?”

“Yes.” MC nods. “It’s… something important. To me, at least.”

“If it is important to you, MC, then it is important to me too.” Professor Fig reassures them. “I will not force you to talk to me, but please know that I am always here for you. I am always by your side not because I brought you to Hogwarts and feel I must as an ambassador of some sort, but because I see you growing to become a caring, strong, and intelligent young adult.” There was a moment of silence as MC processes Professor Fig’s words, and finally, they take a breath.

“I-I’m trans, Professor.” MC finally looks at him. He could feel how quickly their stress levels shot up. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns in privacy among some friends, and a different name, and I’ve really been liking the… euphoria, it gives me.” Fig watches his breathing pick up, “I-I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s only been a few weeks, I just— I was trying to work up the courage—”

Suddenly, Professor Fig acts upon instinct and his arms wrap around MC in a comforting hug.

“It’s okay, MC.” He tells him softly. “You could have told me whenever you were comfortable and I would have accepted you regardless. I am grateful you feel you can trust me to be yourself until you are comfortable coming out in a more public manner.” He gives him one last squeeze in the hug before pulling away to look him in the eye. “Know that you can always trust me, but also know that you shouldn’t feel the need to tell me every little update. Take things at your pace, because this is your life. Regardless, I accept you as you are.”

MC lets out a little sob, leaning back in towards Fig and hugging him again. Fig returns the gesture, rubbing his back comfortingly. He could feel his shoulders shake as he cries— tears of relief, he hoped.

“I hope you know how wonderful you are, MC. You deserve nothing but happiness.” He tells him as the crying slowed to a stop and the two pulled away, “Now, tell me, what is the name you go by now?”

PROFESSOR SHARP:

“Class dismissed.” Professor Sharp’s voice carries over the dungeon classroom. The bustle of life among the 7th year Advanced Potions students replaces the silence that once was the environment of focus as they packed their belongings and headed out.

Profesosr Sharp passed each station to ensure the cleanliness of them, and he found himself halting at one, where MC still stood, eyes trained on their potion as they stirred the contents. He watches as they subconsciously lift a jar of crushed lacewing flies and sprinkled a pinch into the potion, turning it a teal blue.

“MC?” Professor Sharp asks and MC yelps loudly, practically throwing their ladle and it falls to the ground behind them with a loud clatter against the stone floor.

“P-Professor— I-I mean, yes, Professor Sharp?”

“I dismissed class. I suppose you didn’t hear me, but you are free to go— once you finish your potion here. It would be a waste of resources if you scrapped it now.” He pulls out his wand as he spoke, nonverbally summoning the ladle to his wand hand and cleaning it with a handkerchief he protruded from his jacket pocket.

MC finally looks around the classroom, blinking almost owlishly as they realized they were the only student left. Sharp sets the cleaned ladle next to the cauldron.

“Oh. I see. I’m sorry, I must not have been listening.”

“Do not worry. My next class isn’t until after lunch.” Professor Sharp shakes his head, setting himself on the stool in the station next to MC’s. “What are you creating here?”

“I wanted to create Felix Felicis potion, the luck potion we learned last week.” Professor Sharp raises a brow at MC and they shake their head. “Rest assured, Professor, I was most certainly planning on turning it in to you. I’m well aware we’re not allowed to have it as students. Purely educational purposes, this brew.” MC chuckles, and it pulls a chuckle from Professor Sharp as well.

“I understand. Please, continue.” He motions to the cauldron, watching as MC carried on with the potion-making.

It was silent in the classroom once more— a comfortable silence, that is— with only the bubbling of the potion filling the room. Professor Sharp watches MC as they work on their potion, their hands working expertly to perfect the potion.

“May I talk about something, Professor?”

“If it won’t take you out of focus, you may.” He nods. He watches MC take a deep breath.

“Ever since I started here at Hogwarts, in my 5th year, I found a new world that was so much unlike the normal world I came from. I love this world, I love Hogwarts, I love Hogsmeade and the people across Hogwarts Valley… I-I’ve always felt a little off, in the muggle world. When I wear trousers, I’d get looks of disgust in my direction. ‘Ladies shouldn’t need to wear trousers. It’s not right.’”

“I have found the Wizarding World to be far more accepting than the muggle world, particularly. Granted, much of my life has been spent among witches and wizards alike, but the few years I spent in the muggle world, undercover, had me wishing to return sooner rather than later. People are cruel.” Professor Sharp sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry that has been your experience growing up.”

“Thank you, Professor. The world, muggle and wizarding, can both be cruel in different ways.” MC agrees, “I remember, when Florence came out, the amount of pushback she still got among all the acceptance.”

“Florence is a strong young woman.” Sharp nods, “She is solid as a wall. The negativity didn’t affect her— at least, not outwardly.”

“I wish I was more like her.” MC sighs as they add an ashwinder egg to the mixture.

“You are, MC.” Professor Sharp is quick to reassure. “You saved Hogwarts from Ranrok when you were only 15. An incredible feat, especially to a retired Auror such as I. And that is not to say that Florence coming out is inferior to that— both are incredible feats in their own ways. It takes strength and bravery to achieve both.” He takes a breath, “Believe me, MC, you are a great wizard. You will go on to do amazing things, in whatever it is you decide to pursue after Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, Professor.” MC couldn’t hold back the grin spreading across their face. They take a deep breath. “I’m transgender, Professor. I’ve never felt right wearing skirts even from a young age. A part of me was convinced that I would have to deal with the unhappiness for the rest of my life. Be arranged to marry off and bear children, as my duty would have been as a woman in the muggle world. But here, in the Wizarding World, I have more hope— hope to take control of my own life and do what it is I want to do, wear what I want to wear.”

“I see.” Sharp nods, “Rest assured, MC, you’ll always have a home here in the Wizarding World, a place where you can be called however you’d like, wear whatever it is you like to wear… It’s your place to decide what you want to do, and who you want to be.” He stands again as MC turns off the heat to the cauldron, letting the boiling cocotion simmer to room temperature, cool enough to be transferred to vials. “That is one of the wonderful freedoms we get in the Wizarding World; the ability to choose for ourselves.”

MC nods, casting the cooling charm to speed up the process as Professor Sharp goes to retrieve a row of empty vials to put the liquid luck into.

“I know it’ll still be rough for a while. I haven’t come out to a lot of people yet. I’ve only told Professor Fig, Professor Weasley, and a couple of my friends. And now, you. Thank you, Professor.”

“I am happy you trust me to know, MC. Or would you prefer a different name in privacy?”

#hogwarts legacy #hl oc #fanfic #hogwarts #professor fig #eleazar fig #professor sharp #aesop sharp #florence seymour #peter's fluxweed #oneshot #family

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bohobooks · 8 months

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Imagine Requests are Open!

Here's a list of fandoms I'll write for:

Supernatural

Harry Potter

Hogwarts Legacy

Scream (preferably the original one)

Stranger Things

Resident Evil

ACOTAR

The Walking Dead

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hippogrifffeathers · 10 months

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(i can't) reign it in : part 1

In the immediate aftermath of battle, the professors race further into the foundations of Hogwarts. They daren't focus on the dangerous pickling of magic in the air, or how empty wiggenweld bottles crack underfoot- all that matters is getting to MC and Eleazar.

They find them, but in a worse state than anyone could have foreseen.

or, read it on ao3!

the hogwarts legacy hyperfixation is here and i am indulging it completely.

There had been no time to find relief in Fig and MC’s escape, to yell parting words of encouragement or support (for what, none of the professors were still entirely sure), Matilda’s attention drew quickly away from the back of Eleazar’s head, the flutter of MC’s cape as they rushed deeper into the foundations of Hogwarts- and onto the swinging axe of an oncoming goblin.

The battle could have raged on for minutes or hours, it all felt the same fighting under the grounds of Hogwarts, blasting at goblins and trolls indiscriminately.

She had greatly underestimated the threat of Ranrok and his loyalists, they all had.

All except Eleazar and MC, who were paying for the Wizarding World’s ignorance deeper below- out of reach of any further help.

‘Keep Hogwarts safe’ Eleazar has asked, but the entrance to Hogwarts was in one direction, and the broken bridge he and MC had crossed to greater depths was in another. Goblins were making a try for both, and five Hogwarts professors were all that stood in their way. They could keep both safe, and they would.

Torn between defending any further entry into Hogwarts, and pushing Goblins over the ledge they had been attempting to rebuild the bridge over, it was the resolve of faith in their colleagues’ abilities that kept them fighting. Hope they’d all make it through this battle. Any other awareness felt lost under the red and black glow of armour, decorating the every swing of a weapon raised against them, scattered throughout the battlefield.

Until it faded away.

Armour no longer glowing, glowing red eyes melting to leave room for confusion and shock, cries of outrage echo across the cavern. Rendered momentarily stunned by the loss of power had left their enemies vulnerable, and wands continued to fire upon them as the goblin’s tried to rally themselves for a second wave- there would be time yet for celebration.

Taking down the rest of their attackers was almost too easy by comparison, perhaps aided by the growing lightness that filled their chests, a mutual awareness had settled between them all, and palpable relief, an overwhelming pride.

As the last of the goblins fell, Matilda turned to her colleagues, all finally reunited and gratefully unscathed. She felt a grin grow on her features, sentiments mirrored on her colleague’s expressions.

“They did it.”

That impossible, elusive duo, who’d shared a bond closer than student and teacher. How could any of them have known that the new fifth-year would be pulled under Eleazar’s wing, the pair of them would spending the better part of this year keeping secrets and sneaking off of school grounds- Eleazar, who hadn’t smiled so brightly since Miriam was alive, and the hesitant new student who flourished in his company.

The same hesitant new student, so new to magic, who had just crushed a rebellion right in its tracks and, with hope, stopped Ranrok.

If their professors felt pride, they could only imagine the way Eleazar would be glowing right now, and suddenly it wasn’t enough to imagine that paternal glow for themselves. They needed to see it.

It wasn’t enough to revel in their student and friend’s victory from such a distance, they needed to be there with them- to see their safety and triumph for themselves.

With nary a scratch between them, Matilda turned her attention to the chasm before the group, the long drop below, blocking them from following Eleazar and MC deeper into the school foundations. “What do we suggest then? Even the strongest of summoning charms won’t cross such a deep chasm.”

Abraham drifted into her periphery, a thoughtful look on his face as he considered the rubble around them, “It will be rudimentary, but I believe I know a charm that will do the trick.”

With a flick of his wand, stones began to levitate from the battleground around them, making their way past the group of professors. Mudiwa and Matilda attempt to school the minor discomfort on their faces, as the bodies of goblins slide off from the top of summoned stones, landing back on the ground with an unforgiving thud of flesh and metal. Instead, their gazes fixed ahead, as the collection of rubble continued to gather, forming a bridge- uneven, and without rails, but sturdy.

“I cannot say how long it will hold, not when everything in the air feels so…unpredictable, but it will get us across. That’s all that matters.” As if to emphasise his point, Abraham took the lead, making the first steps across the bridge.

Without hesitation, the others followed, with nary a second thought given to the destruction they were leaving behind.

They paid little attention to the lack of echo their hurried footfalls caused, just as they were all willing to dismiss the unsettling aura in the air- too much had happened already tonight, and their answers were still so few. They were no longer in their element- a message that could not have been made clearer, than by the broken bridge now before them, the grand stone guards that stood on the opposite ledge, defending swirling architecture of grandeur, an empty space within its walls- spikes in magic that hissed at them to stay back. Come closer. Enticing. Threatening.

Abraham’s words from earlier creeped into their minds, unpredictable.

For a moment, the five lingered, eyes on the long fall before them, the edgings of dread curling at their mind.

MC and Eleazar had been here, stood in this spot- had they crossed the broken bridge? What of the statues, the empty space in the centre of the stonework?

Even now, after Eleazar had promised the truth, had confessed in his letter about Ancient Magic and Ranrok’s plans, so much felt unanswered. A mystery.

All this, they could be patient for, would wait to hear the full truth- what Eleazar had dared not condemn to written word- but it didn’t solve the most pressing concern on their minds, the unspoken fear between them all, and they searched the empty hall for any clues.

Where were they?

MC, Eleazar, Ranrok. They had all been here, and now all that remained was dust and rubble, a fall to unforgiving stone below. The crackle of magic in the air so powerful it threatened to drown out anything else- how could anyone have made it through such an atmosphere?

Grips tightened on their wands, the beginnings of fear in their hold. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to find Eleazar and MC here, and instead it was empty, with only the humming in the air to keep them company, an unsettling taunt of what if?

“Wait.” Head snapped around to look in the direction of the voice, pulling the other staff from their thoughts. Dinah stood to the side, away from the group, a sharp look of focus in her eye- the same that had reminded them she wasn’t always a Professor of Hogwarts, but was once an Unspeakable. She stepped aside, revealing a downward slope, an obscured pathway leading deeper into the foundations, “This way. They went this way.”

It was all they needed to hear. Following after Dinah, they treaded down the slope, and tried not to allow their gazes to settle on large, broken pieces of rubble, scorch marks that looked fresh. It became harder when the crunch of glass echoed between the group, attention focused on Abraham, who had frozen in his tracks.

Carefully, he lifted one foot, revealing a crushed bottle under his shoe, dregs of liquid still clinging to the bottom. Their stomachs dropped at the familiar warm green shade- none more than Aesop, who had seen that configuration of smashed glass one too many times in his classroom, from careless students.

A smashed potions tube.

And in it, the dregs of Wiggenweld.

Suddenly, the heat of battle that had been warm under their skin became a stinging heat of panic, a fresh wave of frantic worry passed between them. Unspoken questions gave way to horrifying images, scenes of injury played over and over again. Ranrok was defeated, of that they were confident- but then why didn’t they feel reassured?

“We must keep going.” Aesop’s tone broke through the cloud of worry, as he walked on, a gentle pressure on Abraham’s shoulder as he did so, “If there’s empty bottles of Wiggenweld here, we can only hope for the best.”

The staunch resolution was enough to bring the others to their senses, once again allowing Dinah to lead the way as they continued on, treading deeper still into the foundations.

Ignoring the rubble became no easier, not now that they were attuned to spot the shine of potions bottles, and worse still, the occasional streak of crimson decorating the ground. Wand threatening to snap under her grip, Matilda determinedly looked away, trying to focus instead on the layout around them, on trying to listen for her friend and her student.

Around them, the magic lingering in the air threatened to become suffocating as they progressed deeper, becoming more frantic, unbalanced. Only Dinah seemed unaffected by the spike, only increasingly curious as they pressed on, rounding a final corner they stopped abruptly in their steps.

The scene that greeted them is terrifying. Flat planes of rock as far as they could see, the same broken rubble scattered in the foreground. Hanging in the air was an orb, bright and pulsating its glow. None of it meant anything, and none of it caught their attention.

Not over the sound of broken sobbing, the kneeling figure of their new student, alive- gloriously, thankfully alive- but curled over a body, as if protecting it, blind to anything else. The professors’ hearts stop at the sight of familiar silver hair, blue robes-

Eleazar.

Dead.

No-

Eleazar, that enigmatic, bright soul- gone from them. Leaving behind a child, MC, someone they all knew had become something closer to him than his student, his mentee- his charge.

And now, someone who was alone in the rubble of battle, who had saved them all but at the cost of someone so close to them.

Another choked cry broke the professors from their horror, spurring them down the final slope and rushing across the broken planes of stone.

There would be time to mourn later, to lament all they had lost tonight. For now, there was a grieving child who needed their help.

It was impossible not to register the alarming strength of raw power that crackled in the air, even the smell of magic growing thicker still. As they stood just paces from MC, they almost felt foolish for ever having assumed this magic was just the after effect of battle, the magic in the Hogwarts foundations. The truth hadn’t hit them until they had gotten closer, it felt impossible, foolish to speak aloud, but made so much sense.

All this magic in the air, it was coming from MC.

It felt like a reminder, stronger than any other they’d seen on the way here, of just what they were dealing with. Confirmation of what this child had already done.

As they neared, MC gave no indication of hearing them. It was a contrast from the dutiful student they had become so accustomed to, the ever-attentive child who wouldn’t miss the slightest flick of a wand, now blind to the world outside of the Professor in their arms, their head bowed away from any sightline, sobs wracking their body.

Matilda took a deep breath before edging closer to MC’s side, to Eleazar’s body. They all knew what had to come first, but that wouldn’t make the process any easier.

“MC? MC, we’re here now,” Soft words fell on deaf ears, with not even a flinch as Matilda knelt in the stone next to MC, allowing her gaze to quickly sweep over as much of her student’s frame as she could see. “Do you think you can let go of El-Professor Fig?”

They were covered in blood and bruising, tears in their clothes remained the only indicator left of wounds covered up with vials of Wiggenweld. They looked less like the wide-eyed new fifth-year, with a world of magic and possibility at their fingertips, and more like a soldier, left alone on the battlefield.

Well, not alone.

Not anymore.

Carefully, arms wrapped around MC’s frame, mindful of any injuries hidden beneath robes and their hunched posture. Matilda’s heart breaks all over again as she feels the sharp shudder of their cries, the way they try to resist as she gently, but insistently, begins to pull them back.

The movement breaks them out of their stupor.

“No, no, nonono please, don’t- don’t,” MC’s strangled cry breaks through the tears, and none of them can feel entirely grateful MC is with them again, “He’s not, he can’t be-”

Her eyes sting, but Matilda won’t let the tears fall. Not now.

“He’s gone. He’s gone, MC, and I know-I know it hurts, but you need to move back, we’ve got him now-” MC shakes in her arms, nonsensical protests continue to fall from their lips. Matilda keeps her grip steady, “We’ve got you both, but you need to let go-”

“NO!” It’s not the sharp yell that alarms the professors, not the painful, desperate denial in MC’s voice that causes the group to momentarily recoil in shock. It’s the tremor in the ground, the way the glowing orb above their heads had suddenly begun to pulsate. The air around them prickled. A warning.

At the sharp spike in magic, three wands pointed instinctively up at the pulsing glow, protective over the group below. The absence of a wand drew their attention back, turning to face the fourth member of their group, confused at their lack of alarm.

Dinah wasn’t even looking at the unstable magic above them, her wand hand not so much as twitching to move. Even with the static in the air, she wasn’t concerned.

As if sensing her colleagues gazes on her, Dinah met their confused glance and shot the briefest look at the levitating object before meeting their gaze again, and shook her head. Then, once assured she had their attention, wordlessly looked away- her eyeline pointed, knowing.

And settling firmly on MC.

“He isn’t! He- No! Don’t- Don’t take him away!”

Only Matilda hadn’t wavered despite the tremours in the ground, the magic spiking in the air- her hold on MC just as steady as before. And suddenly, the others understood what Dinah had already pieced together, the slight glow to the student’s skin only making it clearer.

Wordlessly, Aesop came closer, joining Matilda on MC’s other side. With an understanding nod between them, Matilda made a gentle retreat, making room for him to reach forward and place his hands over MC’s, where they had been resting on Eleazar’s. They shook under his steady grip.

“I know it hurts right now, and you’ve been so strong when you shouldn’t have had to be. It’s over now.” A hitch of shaking breath, another rumble in the ground, Aesop pressed on, “Let us take it from here. No more threats are coming, you did it.” Another breath, the ground stopped shaking, the crackle in the air settled to a dim hum, “Hogwarts is safe, you’re safe.”

For a moment, he waits. Allows his words to break through the fugue of grief that wracked their body until slowly, MC nods.

Finally, finally, Aesop felt the hands under his grip relax, the accepting slump of MC’s shoulders as they allowed themselves to be pulled away from Eleazar’s body. Their magic calming (because that’s what this was, all around them, this magic- it was all MC, it had to be).

Aesop tried not to sigh too heavily with relief, to think too hard about what they had just witnessed. From the delicate way his colleagues approached himself and Matilda, it was obvious they felt the same way.

Proof, before them, of the magnitude of power this child held, of the ancient magic Eleazar had alluded to in his letter.

Not in a container, like they had originally assumed- but in a student.

They all exchanged a look of silent, mutual agreement- they would talk about this later, not now.

Mudiwa approaches Aesop’s side, a nod to the shaking student beside him, where his hands now rested on their shoulders, almost in a side hug. He takes a second longer to squeeze them closer, register the first glimpse of their face any of them have gotten, the blood drying atop their forehead, downcast eyes he was sure would be red-rimmed and wet with tears. Their body still shook with grief under his hold, but their magic had settled now, their skin back to its usual pallor.

Slowly, he lets go, allowing Mudiwa to take his place, knowing he will be more useful with what is to come next. Wordlessly, he and Matilda rise to stand opposite Abraham and Dinah, Eleazar’s body lying between them all.

Mudiwa wastes no time, her arms wrapping around MC as she tucked their face into the junction of her neck and shoulder, murmuring reassurances in their ear. She didn’t mind the spot of dampness on her robes as MC cries, the fists clutching her clothes in ways that would only leave wrinkles- she is a professor, a mother, and she would offer this comfort a thousand times over.

Assured MC’s face was turned away, a soft ‘levioso’ passed between the four professors, as Eleazar’s body now floated between them. He looked peaceful at least, with no visible injuries to be seen. Whatever had happened, they hoped it was quick.

In his arms lay a wand- it was familiar, pale in colour with elaborate twisted wood, but they couldn’t place it. The sturdiness of their charm held, Eleazar’s hold on the wand didn’t so much as wobble, not even as Abraham took control of the spell himself. Silently, he and Dinah stepped around Eleazar’s body, between them all partially obscuring the sight from the grieving child.

Wordlessly, they waited. Tried not to watch as MC’s cries settled and they slowly pulled out of Mudiwa’s embrace, rising to stand on their own, body turned away from their professors, from Eleazar, away from further scrutiny and up- up at the glowing orb hanging over them.

Allowing MC the time to collect themself, the professors take a moment to properly survey the expanse of land. The main battlefield, if they were to guess. Scratch marks entangled with charred stone, other areas looked as though they had been subject to intense blasts of lightning. It was easier to look at those, than the drying specs of blood, the empty vials of potions they would guess were more Wiggenweld. The mysterious orb that responded to MC’s magic floated above them all, promising destruction as the slightest wrong move.

It all felt like a jigsaw puzzle, but with so many key pieces missing, and no easy place to start.

They have so many questions, so many concerns, and no time for any of them.

It causes a ripple of unease between them all, the practised way MC collects themself, bringing their breath under control, fixing their composure to turn back around and face their professors, shoulders back and hands braced in front of them, any indiction of the pain they were in, cut off.

They shouldn’t be so good at it, closing themself off like this. How much hurt had they successfully been hiding from their professors, their friends, over the course of this year? How much had their teachers missed?

MC doesn’t look at Eleazar, keeps their gaze on their professors, even as they finally speak. Their voice is rougher than usual, scratchy from crying maybe, weary with exhaustion.

“I’m sorry about all…that.” Their gaze momentarily flickers down, hiding what almost looked like…shame? Just as quickly, MC’s gaze was back on them, any sign of their previous rumination, gone, “Thank you for coming, without you I don’t know what would have- if we would have gotten here on time.” Finally, their gaze turned away, looked out across the wake of destruction- but there was no fear or sadness there, not like one would normally expect from someone who had faced a long battle. Nor was there the curiosity extended their professors, no wonder for what had happened, for they had seen the worst of it it themselves. Been in it. They continued on, a hard edge to their voice. Unmerciful, detached. “He’s gone. Ranrok is dead.”

It was not surprising, but the professors still allowed the words to ring between them in a wave of relief, a confirmation of the news they had hoped for, had guessed was the case.

Only Aesop and Dinah responded differently, a look of unease between them. That had not been the voice of someone who had taken their first life.

MC pressed on, the cold tone gone from the voice as their attention returned to their professors, eyes sweeping them with unmasked concern, “Are you all okay? His loyalists can be quite nasty.”

It was almost laughable that MC would be asking them that, after all they had just endured, and perhaps it would be a trifle amusing- if it weren’t so thoroughly depressing.

“We are just fine, nothing we couldn’t handle.” Matilda, with all her patience and understanding, only smiled at her student, “I believe the more pressing question is are you okay?” MC opened their mouth, but Matilda continued on before they could brush any concerns off. MC had been doing enough of that this entire year, “We can get you seen once we’re back at the Castle. For now, we should all focus on getting back out of here.”

For a moment, nothing was said, a frown marred MC’s expression as they thought. A baffling sight, this was by far the easiest question MC would face from a professor over this incident, what was there to think about?

Unexpectedly, MC’s face fell as they shook their head, eyes flickering back at the glowing orb behind them as they spoke, “I’m afraid I can’t leave yet, professor. There’s still so much to do- that I need to do. I need to secure the repository-” Repository, the glowing orb as a name then, “And make sure the security functions still work. It may take some time, you should all go on without me.”

Aesop scowled, go on without them, as though any of them would ever agree to something so ludicrous, especially under these circumstances. A biting retort on the edge of his tongue, Dinah steps forward and responds before he can. Likely for the best.

Dinah’s tone is full of knowing, as she meets MC’s gaze with matching intensity, “The repository isn’t going anywhere. You are the only person who can control it, am I right?” MC hesitated, and for a moment Dinah feared they’d remain frustratingly tight-lipped, before giving a small nod. “Then it can wait, until you have more energy,” Or, control over whatever this magic is, “For now, return with us to the Castle, and you can finish this another time.”

MC’s hesitation was clearly written across their face, rebuff at the ready. Dinah put her final card down, “It’s that, or we’ll all wait here until you are ready to go.”

It was a harsh ultimatum, with Eleazar’s body still floating behind them all, and all eyes would be on MC as they go about the same ancient magic business they had fought so hard to keep a secret all year. Dinah waited patiently.

MC’s gaze wavered, flickering as they weighed their options.

It pained them to admit, but Professor Hecat was right, they were exhausted. Torn between feeling seconds from spontaneous combustion, or losing themself to a dead faint, they likely weren’t in the right space to be messing with any more ancient magic right now- especially not something as powerful as the final repository.

With a sigh, MC nodded their agreement, and Dinah tried not to let the relief show on her face. In truth, she wasn’t sure any of them could have stopped MC if they had insisted on persevering.

“Wonderful. Now, apparating within Hogwarts grounds isn’t usually permitted, but the lift on the charm should still be in effect, so if you stay with me we can use side-apparition. It’s quite nasty the first time, so fair warning.” Matilda offered an arm, palm facing upward, in MC’s direction.

Fingers brushed against the palm of her hand, before sharply pulling back, as if shocked. The professors watched the way MC’s eyes had widened, sudden realisation in their eyes.

Matilda’s stomach swirled with trepidation. Another bump in the road…

“I-I can’t come with you, Professor. I’d nearly forgotten- how could I nearly forget- I need to tell the K- someone.” A pausing breath, “I need to update someone about what’s happened here. That can’t wait.”

The obvious secret keeping wasn’t appreciated, but Matilda knew when to pick her fights with students, and this wasn’t one of those.

“Very well, if this is something that can’t wait then so be it. I trust you know the way out of here, then? El-” Matilda choked on the name, and hoped MC failed to notice, but by the flash of pain on their face, no such luck, “The letter only told us to come to the foundations, it never mentioned an entrance.”

MC’s shoulders slumped at her words, and all too late the professors realised it was with relief, “Actually Professor I…I need to go alone. Perhaps it’s best for you to apparate out of here.”

MC prepared themself for the counterarguments, knowing this is one their professors wouldn’t so easily relent on, but neither would MC. It was bad enough their professors knew the location of the final repository, they wouldn’t allow the secret of the map chamber to get out too.

“You cannot be serious, we aren’t allowing you to walk through these battlegrounds alone.” Aesop tried not to roll his eyes, not wanting to risk looking petulant.

“Professor I can’t, I- nobody can know the entrance to this repository, or anything to do with this magic. I’m not changing my mind.” MC’s tone of fierce independence was almost enough to make their professors’ convictions waver on their own, stubborn in their desire to stay tight-lipped, and hide so many truths from those around them. Solely burdened with this knowledge.

Secrets upon secrets, even now.

Familiar frustration prickled under the professors’ skin, memories of artful question evasion and mysterious disappearings from Eleazar. For the better part of the school year, he and MC had been hiding under secrets and dealing with that burden alone- and for what, the professors could not begin to understand, even now, with so many fractions of these secrets revealed to them.

But they were humble enough to know when they were in over their heads.

Whatever this magic was, it was powerful. MC stood before them, robes torn and bloodied, brimming with barely-controlled magic, after taking down Ranrok, defeating countless goblins and trolls on the way. To stand in front of them and try to tell them how to navigate this situation, to act like the authority figures they technically were, felt wrong.

And yet, MC was still a child. They should be spending their time bonding with friends within the safety of Hogwarts walls, nursing headaches during long study sessions and gossiping happily with their housemates at mealtimes. Their biggest worries should have been the next essay for class, or whether their house will win the cup- not whatever this is.

It was unfair. Cruel, to deal a child such a damning card, burdening them with the weight of secrecy and power.

This child, their student. The charge of a beloved, now lost, friend. Incredibly powerful or not, they needed help, support- something they seem to have gone without for far too long.

But MC was willing to leave the repository for now, they had conceded that much- so now, it was the professors’ turn to compromise. They had to pick their battles.

A warm hand settled on MC’s shoulder, firm but easy to shake off if they wanted to. They didn’t. Abraham offered them a smile, “Very well then, if you insist on returning to the Castle alone then we won’t stop you.”

“Thank you Professor, I-”

“Ah, ah ,ah- I wasn’t finished.” He didn’t drop the smile, even as MC’s gaze narrowed into nothing short of suspicion, “We won’t stop you, but some of us will walk back with you- only to where we came from, no further.” He cast a critical eye at their robes, pausing to think before adding, “After Professor Sharp checks you are healthy to travel, of course.”

It was a small addition to make to his terms, but an important one. They had to set a precedent.

MC’s brows furrowed as they considered his offer, relaxing slightly when they seemed to find no trap in his conditions, “That sounds fair.”

“I am glad you’re not completely resistant to reason.” Aesop cut through, “Then I suppose you’ll also find it fair that you meet us in the Hospital Wing afterwards. Straight afterwards. No detours.”

If their past actions were anything to go by, should MC be left to their own devices they would gladly retire to their dorm room and assume a simple Wiggenweld would be enough to take care of their injuries, bypassing any formal medical attention at all.

They may have gotten away with as much so far, but not tonight.

Clearly, MC had come to the same conclusion, exhausting any mental list of counterarguments with a heavy, and clearly reluctant, sigh. None of the professors could quite find it themself to feel bad about their student’s obvious reluctance, not when it was towards getting medical help.

Instead, Abraham gave a gentle squeeze of their shoulder in comfort, before clearing space for Aesop to come forward, wand poised as he let his gaze sweep down the torn and dirtied robes quickly, mentally preparing himself for any further action that might be necessary.

“You may feel a slight tingle, I’m afraid it’s been some years since I needed this spell. Try to be still, it’ll work quicker if you do. It’s not perfect, only useful for physical injuries, but it should be enough until Nurse Blainey can see to you.” MC nodded, but made no further movement as Aesop cast the spell, trying to ignore the painful familiarity of the wand movement, the murmured incantation he had cast so many times in his auror days.

He wasn’t there. He was here, deep in the foundations of Hogwarts, casting an auror-trained diagnostic spell on a child.

Magic fades from where the spell had wrapped around their frame, in their place Aesop is confronted with the damage that remains. He tries not to let the shock register on his face, not when he feels the heat of MC’s inquisitive eyes on him.

There’s so many red flags it sticks in his chest. Injuries that hadn’t healed completely, wounds that weren’t enough for even multiple Wiggenwelds to take care of- the idea of MC depending on so minor a healing potion when facing Ranrok didn’t sit well with him.

“There’s some lingering injuries, but nothing that should stop you from being able to see to whatever unfinished business you must attend to,” How tempting it would be, to lie and claim they were unfit to travel the rocky terrains back to the Castle, to ensure MC would leave with the staff, now. Regretfully, their student was as stubborn as they came, and no fool.

Aesop consoled himself by pulling out a vial from his robes, offering it to MC, grimly grateful that his auror instincts had never left him, “Drink this, to be certain. It’s a more potent version of Wiggenweld- it should take care of the worst of that ankle, at least.”

MC stared down at the deep gash in momentary confusion, as though they had forgotten it was there in the first place, before graciously accepting the offered potion, downing it in one with practised fluidity.

“Thank you, professor.” They nodded to Aesop, seemingly relieved as they tested their weight on the now gash-free foot, only to frown and let out a soft hiss of pain as their weight buckled.

Aesop wasn’t the only one to reach forward, acting on pure instinct, but it wasn’t needed. Just as quickly as they stumbled, MC righted themself, frowning down at the joint as though it was a particularly nasty exam question, before grabbing the ends of their torn cape, ripping a strip of fabric with little care.

The professors watched as MC brushed off the offer of help from Mudiwa, kneeling down to wrap their ankle in the fabric.

Tentatively, they rose and took a step forward. Then another. And another. Back and forth.

Pleased their binding worked, MC now faced their professors- who were trying their best not to make any further insistences about MC joining them right away in the hospital wing. They knew when not to push it.

“...Can we go now?” A sharp contrast to their earlier assured attitude, MC sounded almost insecure as they waited for someone to say something, to give them permission to carry on. Another painful reminder that this was still a child, one who seemed so much younger, more vulnerable, when they didn’t have the mask of ‘secret magic responsibilities’ to hide behind. Looking to their professors for help, for guidance in what came between now, and whoever it was they needed to speak with.

Matilda made an effort to keep her tone warm and reassuring, as she spoke up, “Of course we can,” Gesturing MC closer towards her and away from where Abraham and Mudiwa stood by Eleazar’s body, the smallest vein of relief running through her when his body was no longer in MC’s sightline, not unless they turned around, “We’ll trust you to lead the way. Professors Ronan and Onai will apparate and get a head start on us in the meantime.”

MC nodded, slipping easily into the role of group leader as they headed in the direction of the upward slope, towards the way out. They missed the exchanging nods of agreement behind their back before the professors parted ways, Abraham and Mudiwa watching after them even as the ‘pop’ of apparition took them away, along with the solemn figure of Eleazar’s body.

They had the head-start to take him to St Mungoes, where his body could be cared for appropriately. Hopefully, there would be enough time between that and when the Ministry officials started asking questions, that the professors could agree on what truths they would reveal, what they would keep for themselves, and what they would do about the many blank gaps they had- that only MC could fill, but likely wouldn’t.

Despite Matilda’s earlier offer for MC to lead the way, the arrangement becomes more of a reverse triangle formation, Matilda and Dinah on either side of their student, Aesop tailing in the back. They were all careful to hang back slightly, to keep MC in their sightlines- perhaps it was overkill, but they didn’t want to take any chances.

Their journey back continues in relative silence, the professors make no comment of the stone structure they had walked by earlier- not even as MC’s gaze fixes on the empty space within, watchful of the guarding statues as they turn the corner, proceeding further away.

Dinah spares a second glance at the structure, her gaze flickered between the void of space being guarded, and MC, then chancing a look below, where she knew that floating orb- the repository- would be found. She knew better than to ask- but the curiosity stabbed at her brain even as she turned away, wondering if she would be more content to forget what mystery they had just come across, than to live with the memories but never any answers.

No questions were asked about the bridge Abraham had earlier constructed, but MC had paused for a moment to test their own weight on the structure before deeming it safe enough to cross.

Aesop bit his tongue, there were certainly far less dangerous ways to test the stability of something than standing on it.

As they crossed the bridge, it was hard not to admire the easy confidence with which MC traversed the uneven terrain, especially faced with such a drop to either side. They even had the time to pause and look back to their professors, to check on them, but after the third glance, seemed confident they weren’t going anywhere and didn’t bother to look again as they all stepped down from the bridge, and continued through the rubble of the former battlegrounds.

Which was fortunate, because it was hard to hide the fact you were keeping an eye on someone, when they were keeping an eye on you.

There was still a small limp to MC’s step, but they seemed determined to press on despite any pain they were feeling, so the professors resolved not to give it any further attention, not yet anyway.

Instead, they tried to focus on the other details, the slight glow of magic lingering at MC’s fingertips, the way their torn cape fluttered in the non-existent breeze- but all of it faded away as the professors caught sight of their face. The way MC stared out over the empty battlefield.

Eyes surveying the litany of bodies scattered across the ground, lying amongst the rubble- there’s no remorse in MC’s gaze, no alarm for the volume of violence that had occurred tonight. No fear or concern at all in their eyes.

At least, until there is a twitch of movement to their left.

Before any of the professors can even blink, MC’s body is rigid, their wand raised in preparation as they watch for the twitch of movement, eyes calculating. A single body among the masses twitches again, rouses from unconsciousness. They see it at the same time MC does, a goblin still alive, and fast regaining awareness.

The professors would be proud of MC’s defensive skills, if it wasn’t so telling about what they had been through these past months, if it wasn’t for the glint of cold calculation in their eyes.

For a moment, everything is still- as though the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for whatever comes next.

MC’s grip tightens on their wand but still they remain still, analytical. The air crackles with magic once again, a momentary distraction from the rousing goblin ahead, from the tension in MC’s frame.

Only Aesop catches it, the faintest glow of jet green- a colour that was impossible for him to mistake, that haunted his nightmares, one he’d hoped he would never have to see again.

And yet he swears, for a moment, just a moment, MC’s wand glowed that familiar hue-

It’s over before he can get a better look.

Underfoot, the ground shakes with the rumble of thunder, and then the goblin is gone. In a bright flash of magic, so quick Aesop could almost swear it hadn’t happened, the goblin had disappeared.

No incantation, hardly any wand movement to speak of, and it was over.

He had seen it before, they all had. What now felt like days ago, but perhaps was mere hours ago or less, MC had battled their way across these foundations and summoned that same power to get themselves and Eleazar through. At the time, there had been no opportunity for their professors to stop and ponder on the incredible power- but now, having just witnessed it again, it was an effort not to ask anything further, to question just what MC was capable of.

Oblivious to their audience, or perhaps intentionally ignorant of it, MC lowered their wand and pocketed it with a smooth flourish, unperturbed by the magic they had just displayed, the life it had just ended. Not even casting a glance behind them, MC continued on.

Aesop exchanged an uneasy look with Matilda and Dinah, but neither of them said a word. So much had happened tonight, there was no telling just how much their young student had gone through, for the sake of one life perhaps it was not their place to judge. It certainly wasn’t Aesop’s.

The group continued on in silence, only the faint rush of running water and the crackle of stones underfoot to hold their focus, keep their thoughts from straying.

It was hard not to allow their thoughts, their worries, to derail as the professors watched MC push forward. Despite only having the lead by a few paces, it may as well have been miles. They had all spent far too much time teaching teenagers not to recognise the signs of a wandering mind when they saw one, stray thoughts running unattended.

Matilda urged to break MC’s ruminating, whatever negative cycle of thoughts they had descended to, but the space MC had maintained between themself and their professors was no mere coincidence or case of youthful stamina. She would respect this boundary. For now.

The professors recognise it before their student does, the path where they had all crossed paths with MC and Eleazar, with little idea the magnitude of what they were about to face, but ready to do so regardless.

They’d had no idea what shape they would find the pair in, no idea this would be the last time they would see Eleazar alive, side by side with MC and exchanging quips with them as they battled trolls and goblins, nodding at them in thanks for their timely arrival.

Despite the pain in their chests at the memory, the way they wished they could have said goodbye, had even a minute longer with their friend- they recalled the way Eleazar had guided MC through the battlefield, had fought alongside them in perfect tandem as Matilda and Aesop found the pair, eyes watchful over his charge even as they disappeared round that final corner, onward to the final fight.

They knew Eleazar wouldn’t have changed a thing about what happened tonight, if the outcome would stay the same.

They would honour that wish, with everything in their power.

Ahead, MC slows to a stop and turns on their heel to face their professors, hands interlaced in front of them- the picture of composure, vehemence.

There was definitely no chance of MC allowing their professors to accompany them any further, then.

They offer a firm nod, but their foot kicks at a loose pebble as they talk, voice betraying their exhaustion, “See you in the Hospital Wing, then?”, and they are once again reminded that it’s a child standing before them, not a soldier- no matter how desperate MC is to convince them otherwise.

“Yes, as soon as you're finished. Whatever responsibilities you must attend to, make it brief. You can return after Nurse Blainey has cleared you, that’s the agreement,” Technically, nobody had said anything about clearing MC for duty, but Aesop figured it didn’t hurt to add, “Okay?”

MC pauses for a moment, something that would be fractional to anybody aside from their professors, before nodding their agreement, signing their agreement with a quiet “As soon as I’m finished.”- it’s as good a promise as they’re going to get.

With a final sweeping glance around the room, as though committing it to memory, each of the professors disapparate in a ‘pop’, empty spaces where they had been standing just moments ago.

For a moment, MC does nothing, eyeing the ground where the professors had just stood- their watchful gaze no longer burning into MC’s back.

Content that they wouldn’t be coming back, MC pulled their wand out from its sheath, gripping the familiar handle with surety as they kept their back to the exit of the cavern, walking away from the Map Chamber, and back into the deep foundations of Hogwarts. What their professors didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Their eyes scanned the rubble, the scattered bodies, for any sign of consciousness- any survivors.

The Keepers could wait ten minutes more, if it meant the final repository remains a secret.

#hogwarts legacy #my fics #fun story! this was SUPPOSED to be a oneshot but then it ended up being 19k words #and that's pushing it on a oneshot even for me #so multichapter it is!#first time writing for hogwarts legacy oh The Fear #hogwarts legacy fic #main character #eleazar fig #matilda weasley #aesop sharp #i ADORE thinking about the nature of ancient magic is it obvious

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expectodragons · 8 months

Text

The Art of Receiving || 18+ Oneshot

✦ Summary: The stress of studying for your final exams is finally getting to you and you're in desperate need of some relief.

✦ Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Female Reader

✦ Word Count: 2,230

✦ Rating: Explicit, 18+ only - minors do not interact.

✦ Tags / Warnings: Age difference, oral sex (f!receiving), PWP, reader is of age, slight power dynamics, student/professor relationship, vaginal fingering.

It was not often you found yourself in use of the bath in the Prefect’s bathroom. The place was a privilege for but a select few students, yourself included. Being a Quidditch Captain did have its benefits, after all. But rarely did you find the time, or the need, to traverse the many steps up to the hidden room.

Today, however, had given you every single reason to seek out the vast warm waters of the pool-like tub.

Exam season was upon the castle and your nerves, in particular, were due to fry if you spent another moment huddled over a dusty tome in the library with your group of fellow seventh-years. Between a series of challenging classes and the overwhelming air of expectation that was placed upon you by your professors, you were a step short of collapsing.

You had felt your eyes blurring together the words of Malinda Haddock and her many essays on the intricacies of advanced Transfiguration in the fifteenth century. Your head had pounded against the table, much to the concern of Poppy who had been working alongside you.

It felt like your mind could consume no more information – a sponge already seeping out water – you were at your fill of knowledge. And nothing the famed witch could say about the difficulties of transfiguring avian creatures into knitting needles could breach your mental walls.

So, with a weary pace, you had found yourself taking the long journey up to the top of the South Wing’s tower. Flicking the spigot on every faucet until the bath filled with technicolor soap and kaleidoscope-colored bubbles floated into the air. Time had passed without your awareness, so lost in the delicious sensation of warm water rippling over your stressed shoulders.

But, when you at last extracted yourself from the lovely bath and had dried and dressed yourself once again, you finally took notice of the time. Curfew was due to start in but a few minutes and dinner was obviously out of the question.

As you descend the spiral staircase, eager to pick up your pace in an effort to make it to your common room before the clock strikes the hour, you find yourself face-to-face with a particular Potion Master.

“Ah,” Sharp says your name in that slow sardonic tone. He peers up at you from his lower position on the staircase.

“Professor Sharp,” you say in polite admonishment.

If he held you up any longer, you would never make it to your common room in time.

Sharp takes a step, and then another. And even though he’s three steps below your position on the landing, he’s fully eye-level with you.

“You were absent from dinner this evening.”

Your chin juts out, ever so slightly, “I was. And if you’ll excuse me, I wish to make it to my dorm before curfew begins, sir.”

The professor gives an amused hum of consideration. You feel your cheeks become aflame with heat with the look he bestows upon you.

Resting a hand on the banister, he leans into the rails, as though he has nowhere to be in a particular hurry.

“How are your study sessions coming along? I believe the entirety of your year has taken over Scribner’s domain this past week.”

With a huff of annoyance, an impatience sending your feet rocking back and forth, you respond with a simple, “Fine.”

“And your classes? You’re keeping up with the workload I imagine?”

“Yes, sir. If you excuse me, please. I really must get going.”

Before you can so much as brush past him on the other side of the staircase, Sharp moves another step forward and takes a gentle hold of your right arm – your skin still radiates the warmth from your long bath and you know he can feel it between his fingers as his thumb begins to rub a steady rhythm against your hammering pulse point.

The two of you rarely appeared together outside of the safety of his office. Where he could lock the doors and cast a simple Muffliato upon the room. Your meetings were cherished, but increasingly rare as the days leading up to the NEWTs kept you away. But here, in the Faculty Tower – on the top landing of the tower, at that – you feel a familiar rush of desire pooling in your stomach as Aesop takes a final step forward.

Towering over you now, you can feel his warm breath upon your face. Smell the comforting aroma of sandalwood and musk that lingers on his robes. You can even see the beginnings of that familiar small smile of his that sends your heart racing anytime he shares it with you.

“You must be exhausted, my dear.”

The firm press of his thumb on your wrist has your knees buckling, lost in the weight of his heavy stare.

“It… has been rather stressful.”

“Hmm,” he hums in return. His charcoal-colored eyes bore into you as if undressing you here in the corridor before he seemed to make a decision – a sudden flicker of interest across his face your only warning.

“Perhaps you are in need of some relief, as it were.”

You gulp, feeling a flood of want surging through your chest. Your neck flushes with warmth and your ears begin to burn as you carefully turn your wrist in his hold until your fingers wrap around his thumb.

“Perhaps, sir.”

With a thin smile, Aesop leads you the few short steps up to his personal chambers.

This was one place you had never adventured before.

There had been two, and only two, separate occasions in your time with the potions professor, where a secret rendezvous occurred outside of his office. Once, in a hidden nook in the Bell Tower when the majority of the school was out on a Hogsmeade trip. And one very heated exchange in the changing rooms after a quidditch match when the rest of your team was headed off to the common room to celebrate your victory.

But this?

You allow your gaze to wander around the red-toned room. Taking in the small things that took up your professor’s private space. It was hardly as neat as you would have assumed it to be. Stacks of papers, bottles, and potion tools littered every available space. A lone chair sat before a blazing fire. A curious glance towards an ajar doorway nearly has your attention before Aesop’s hand cups your face.

“Now…” he intones. “What to do with you?”

Creeping up on your tiptoes, you lean into his touch.

“I could think of a thing or two.”

He chuckles, curling a finger through the damp locks of your hair.

“I imagine you could. However…” his gaze goes distant, seemingly transfixed by the droplets of water that travel from your hair down to his finger.

Giving an experimental tug, he brings you closer – holding onto but a single strand of your hair. You allow yourself to be pulled, pressing up to meet his curved smile as a kiss, almost too sweet, is placed upon your lips.

“Poor, poor girl,” he murmurs against your lips, tilted back just enough to keep him from making contact with your eager mouth. “Drowning under the pressure of your studies. Has no one shown you proper care these past few weeks?”

His snide remarks only have you leaning up to try and join your lips together once again, but he remains stubbornly persistent in refusing you further. Much to his own delight, apparently, as a wolfish grin materializes on his face.

And then his hands are traveling down your sides. Fingers pressing into the curve of your waist, the small swell of your stomach, the dip of your hips. As you wrap your arms around his neck, his head lowered to almost rest upon your shoulder, you feel the cool air of the room caress your legs as you find your skirt being pushed up.

“If only someone was willing to spare you a thought, hmm?” he crones.

Calloused fingers meet your bare skin, following the gentle curve of your inner thighs as they trail higher and higher.

“What have we here?”

You can sense the pleased smile on his face as his fingers delve into the wet heat between your legs – your eyes closing and your head tilting back in delight at the first brush of his knuckle across your lips.

Warm breath tickles your ear as teeth gently tug at the lobe.

“Eager indeed.”

At last, you lean against him, moaning a gentle, “Aesop.”

He smirks, removing his hands – allowing your skirt to fall back into place – as he pulls you toward the door across the room. Walking backward, he presses the entry open and leads you into a smaller room. Your eyes flash across an array of furniture, covered portraits, stacks of cauldrons, and books, before falling upon the bed.

“My darling girl,” he smooths, turning you slowly in his embrace until you find your knees backed into the crimson sheets of his bed.

A gentle press on your shoulder has you sitting down like a good student, while the man before you drops to a single knee. Your hands grip the sheets like a vice as your skirt is rolled up onto the tops of your thighs and two large palms press your knees apart.

Sharp settles there, in the V of your legs, as a hand lazily drags through the warm slick of your desire. Perhaps another clever quip could be said then, but his dark gaze has zeroed in on his own fingers now, and with a muffled cry parting from your lips Aesop leans forward and licks a warm stripe up your quim.

Pulling your fist to your mouth, you bite down on the flesh of your fingers as he repeats the action.

Heated breath grazes your cunt and the pleasant sting of his stubble scrapes the smooth flesh of your thighs as a deep moan rumbles across your womanhood.

His hands wind under your knees as he spreads you further open, his nose brushes against your mound, as he dips his tongue into your quivering hole – scooping up every bit of sweet juice he finds dribbling out of you.

“Oh god,” you cry out.

Your hand falls from your mouth to latch into the silky strands of his dark tresses. Pulling him closer as he starts to work a steady rhythm with his mouth. Buried between your thighs like he was meant to always be there, Aesop moans another gravelly sound as he begins to suck your clit between his swollen lips.

Like a man starved, he finds his fill in the juncture of your legs. Licking up everything you have to give him, his hold upon your thighs leaves crescent-shaped bruises that send another delicious wave of pained pleasure toward your core.

“Yes, oh Merlin, yes!”

Urged on by your desperate cries, the potions professor barrels forward, sucking your button in earnest as you tug his hair into a tight grip. You can feel it, the sweet desperate coil in your core. Soon it will snap and your release will paint your lover’s face.

Rocking your hips to meet him, you find yourself grinding against his lips, though that only seems to encourage him as he flicks his tongue over your clit and stares up at you with that glazed-over heavy expression in his eyes.

Sweat clings to his brow and his hair curtains his face, but all you can focus on are those gorgeous eyes. So drunk on you, your taste, your cunt. You find your bundle curling tighter and tighter, your hips rocking in a frantic pattern, as Aesop sucks down your sweet pleasure.

A rumbling moan sends you over the edge as he dives into you with a fervor.

His tongue, almost too rough now, laps up your desire as your hold on his hair loosens and your legs seem to become leaden underneath you.

Slowly, he pulls back – his chin a wash of cum and spit – as he huffs out a few raggedy breaths. His lips grace your thigh with wet kisses before he finally drops your legs back to the ground and carefully eases himself back up.

Taking a place beside you on the bed – where you are now lounged back, breathing several shuddering gasps – Aesop drags his hand across your torso, fingers snagging on the buttons of your blouse. He walks up your sternum before his thumb finds the curve of your bottom lip and tugs down upon the silky flesh.

“Feeling relaxed, dear one?” he murmurs, watching you with a transfixed sort of expression that spoke of feelings more than just casual fleeting interest and obvious lust.

Huffing a lofty laugh, you shake your head – lulling your head to the side so you can meet his gaze.

“So relaxed, I fear I might not be able to move again.”

His hand trails to the curve of your jaw, where he cups your heated flesh – a lone finger rubbing over the delicate skin of your cheek.

“That would truly be a shame if that were the case.”

“Wouldn’t it just?” you smile brightly. Feeling the ticklish tingle of your legs and the overwhelming sensation of undiluted happiness coursing through you.

Sharp hums once again in agreement before he leans down to place a lingering kiss upon your honey-sweet lips.

#aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp fanfic #professor sharp fanfic #hphl fanfic #my fic

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cursedonyx · 8 months

Text

Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist

To be updated as I go 🙃

Asks are open - please feel free to send me a request!

Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power (Ongoing) 🔞

Sebastian, Ominis and Dracaena embark on a new adventure in their seventh year, navigating a growing love angle and discovering a dastardly plot against Dracaena. In trying to find out more, they discover something far larger than any of them had anticipated, and the fate of the world rests in their hands.

(Warnings - eventual smut, love angle, eventual throuple, lots of angst, some comfort and mature themes)

Ao3 🔞

Wattpad 🔞

Audio Version 🔞

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

✨Professor Fig Adopts the Emerald Trio✨

An alternate timeline in which Professor Fig adopts Sebastian, Ominis and Dracaena at the end of fifth year, offering them sage advice, fatherly love and affection, and helping to get them out of (and occasionally into) trouble.

Hijinks ensue. Fluffy and sweet, some angst but mostly cute.

Part 1

Part 2

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

Sebastian Sallow

A Promise of a Theory

Professor Fig almost trips over a studious young Slytherin desperately searching for a way to cure his sister outside his classroom. The kindly professor offers Sebastian some advice and comfort.

The Bars Between Us 🔞 Part 2

Sebastian is rescued from Azkaban after six long years, but he's not the man his friends once knew, and he needs some TLC.

Sebastian Makes a New Friend

Sebastian is adopted by a stray cat.

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

Ominis Gaunt

The Sleeping Snake🔞

Things get a bit too much for a very randy Ominis when his snoozing partner is just that smidge too lovely. (Unedited oneshot)

Taming the Serpent 🔞

In their final year of school, Ominis Gaunt is the only person in all of Hogwarts that seems to be immune to the captivating beauty of one Silvermaria Rivers. Little does he know that the one person who can't see her splendour may be the only one who can love her for who she really is. Ominis has his own demons to banish before he can even think of anything as tiresome as romance, but as time goes by, Silver opens his eyes, so to speak, to a brand new, intoxicating world.

Ominis leaves a voicemail 🔞

A lonely Ominis leaves you a needy and very explicit voicemail

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

Professor Sharp x Professor Garlick

Brewing Desires (Part 1) 🔞

Aesop has long had a crush on Mirabel, and at the Hogwarts Professor's annual Christmas drinks at the Three Broomsticks, he finally decides to make a move.

Brewing Desires (Part 2) 🔞

Following their encounter, Aesop is confused by Mirabel's ordinary behaviour. Following his jealousy at seeing her talk to another man, things come to a head in his office.

Brewing Desires (Part 3)

Though they try to keep it a secret, a certain arsehole Professor learns of their relationship, and an unfortunate dose of Babbling Brew leads Aesop to say more than he should.

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

Poppy Sweeting x Garreth Weasley

Of Creatures and Cauldrons (Part 1)

Poppy has a major crush on Gareth. There's only one problem; he's in love with someone else.

Of Creatures and Cauldrons (Part 2)

Natsai tries to help Poppy go on a date with her secret crush, Garreth, but things don't go to plan when Garreth's crush turns up.

Of Creatures and Cauldrons (Part 3)

Poppy is distraught over her lack of returned feelings, and Prof. Garlick steps in with an encouraging word.

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

Headcanons

Garreth Weasley ABCs

Ominis Gaunt ABCs

Sebastian Sallow ABCs

Ominis Gaunt NSFW ABCs 🔞

Sebastian Sallow NSFW ABCs 🔞

Garreth Weasley NSFW ABCs 🔞

Sebastian Sallow is a Fox 🦊

The Emerald Trio's Wands 🪄

In a Muggle Nursing Home 🧓🏻👴🏻

Drunk at a Party 🍻

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖ ⊹°˖✧

Reactions

MC has a baby sibling

A cat terrorises everyone but MC

Going through a Haunted House

Cuddling them when they're sad

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x mc #mc x sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley #poppy sweeting #aesop sharp #mirabel garlick #Hogwarts Legacy characters #Hogwarts Legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy writing #dracaena hoctina

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weirdraccoon · 4 months

Note

Hi I just read ur short oneshot where Sharp is about to give MC “the talk” but stops one MC explains that Fig already gave the talk to them. Wondering if I could request how “the talk” went between MC and Fig?

Yeeees, here it is!

*in a small London flat*

MC: I learned a new spell.

Fig: Oh? Show me then.

MC *aiming at her hair*: Colovaria

Fig: Nicely done! That one was one of Miriam's favorites. She often tried to make me use it as well, claiming I looked too old at her side.

MC *aims borrowed wand at him*

Fig *moves hurriedly out of the way*: And speaking of favorites, I think you should learn one of mine before you go to a school full of hormones.

MC: Hu?

Fig: Yes, yes. You see, kids of a certain age get a little... Curious about some specific matters. There's a whole crash course about it taken during third year, and since I'm helping you get caught up I guess it's my responsability to explain it to you.

MC *sits expectantly*

Fig: Well, people are social creatures to begin with, and like all creatures they need to reproduce to avoid extinction. So, a witch and a wizard will[...]

MC *wide eyed and red-faced*: What! And that can happen in school!?

Fig: Only if you want it, and I mean it, MC. If you don't want it, you curse whoever pressures you into oblivion.

MC: And what's that got to do with your favorite spell? Wait no! Don't tell me!

Fig *rolling his eyes*: It'll allow you to have fun and avoid any unwanted pregnancies. There's a potion too, but Miriam and I never got the recipe. I'm sure Aesop will give it to you if you ask. Or I can ask him for you and you just let me know when you start needing it.

MC *hiding behind her hands*: No! Stop talking about my future sex life!

Fig *full on grinning*: It's just a normal part of growing up, MC! Don't be so embarrased. Everyone has, had or will have a sex life!

MC *dies*

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #adopted dark lord au #eleazar fig #this was fun #my mcs fig is that uncle slash parent who teaches and teases at the same time #and if he knows something bothers you hell use it against you #unless its something serious of course #then hell help with the trauma and then when youre ready hell tease you about it

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animasola86 · 27 days

Text

SCARS AND PEACE AND COMFORT MASTERLIST

OVERVIEW:

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader (with a face scar)

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut

Synopsis: He was there to give you confidence, attention, comfort, and you were there to give him peace - and so much more.

NOTES: This is a series of one-shots that can be read individually, but also portray the same characters and their developing relationship. (There are also some spin-offs under EXTRAS.)

OVERALL WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Size difference. Age gap. Established student/teacher relationship.

READ ON AO3

↓ SCARS

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 3.5k

Synopsis: He was there to give you confidence, attention, comfort, and you were there to give him peace.

Read here (or on AO3)

↓ PEACE AND COMFORT

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 4.5k

Synopsis: A much-needed massage turns into something much more sensual.

Read here (or on AO3)

↓ A DEMONSTRATION OF POWER AND SUPPORT

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 6.3k

Synopsis: He gave you confidence, you gave him a bad case of jealousy.

Read here (or on AO3)

↓ A DEMONSTRATION OF PRIDE AND PAIN

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 5.1k

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a rough night, you find yourself easing his pain, while you embrace your own.

Read here (or on AO3)

↓ DOUBTS AND DISTRACTIONS

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader Genre: Angst/Fluff/Smut // Words: 6.5k

Synopsis: You fall into a carousel of dread, overthinking everything, but once you're back in his arms, all seems forgotten.

Read here (or on AO3)

EXTRAS

↓ FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!mc Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 4.2k

Synopsis: Aesop Sharp has tried everything to soothe the aches of his battered body, and nothing seems to work, but then he comes across a well of youth in the form of a young lover who is willing to feed him everything he's ever wanted, and more.

Read here (or on AO3)

↓ NEWS TRAVELS FAST IN HOGWARTS

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader (x Aesop Sharp) Genre: Angst/Drama // Words: 3.8k

Synopsis: Sebastian finds out about your affair with a certain Potions Master.

Read here (or on AO3)

SCREENSHOTS

Boys and men of Potions Class

Aesop Sharp Appreciation Post

Aesop Sharp in black & white

Aesop Sharp in black & white (again)

Aesop Sharp in black & white (again...)

Sharp Edges

Genevieve x Professor Sharp

Genevieve x Sharp

...

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

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legacygirlingreen · 2 months

Text

Aesop Sharp x Listener Audio

Hi friends! I cannot believe its been 1 full year since I first uploaded my main fanfic on here! That fic brought me one of my most beloved friendships in this world. So to celebrate that I decided to make an audio portion of a short oneshot I did a while back for her as well. So if you'd like to read the full story (and the *wink* events that take place right after this) you can read it HERE!

@strawberrypinky I am so thankful for your friendship <3!

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thesongthesoulsings · 4 months

Text

Promised Legacy

Summary: Aesop and Katherine Sharp are not only parents but also lovers - something that often is forgotten in busy everyday life. This OneShot tells a tale about the rekindling of passionate intimacy, the desire for another child, and promises being upheld.

Link to Ao3

He entered the kitchen, breathing in the delicious smell of cake baking in the oven.

Katherine’s slender form – clad in a summer dress and apron – moved around the room while cleaning. Her soft singing filled the air and her wavy voluminous mane, which was illuminated by the setting sun, moved with her motions; she was barefoot.

He leaned silently against the doorframe, deciding to watch her for a moment longer, not expecting the profanity leaving her lovely mouth shortly after.

She turned, feeling eyes on her, and cursed.

“Fuck! Merlin...” Her wincing was followed by a look at her raised foot, provoking a chuckle in the Potions Master.

“I told you to stop walking around barefoot.”

The dark voice was a welcome embrace to her, after having waited for him all day long. The kids, which were now playing outside in the garden, had exhausted her and made it seem like a prolonged waiting period.

Twisting her mouth she grumbled – a habit of hers he had grown to find endearing.

“It’s not the bare status of my feet which is the problem, but rather the fact that our children leave their toys wherever they walk. It would’ve hurt just the same if I had been wearing socks, and if I had worn shoes, I might’ve slipped. They truly need to learn to clean up after themselves.”

“They do”, he agreed, approaching her now to encircle her with his arms. Her hold tightened around him, pressing the feminine curves against his taller frame.

“I baked your favorite cake today, so we might enjoy it over the weekend. I hope it turned out well – Alethea and Thedore helped with it today.”

Her irritation had vanished and made room for a joyful disposition, something the wizard was fond of – the forgiving nature of his wife. He squeezed her, burrowing his nose in her soft hair; inhaling her scent. Lavender, Vanilla, Jasmin and Bergamot with a tinge of cashmere wood – all of that mingled with the sweet scent of cake surrounding them. Home, he was home.

His voice vibrated through her, once he spoke – his grasp around her still strong. ��

“I’m sure it will be palatable. There simply is no chance you let them do whatever they please with the ingredients.”

She grinned up at him.

“You know me well, Mr. Sharp. I had to keep them in check and prevent a disaster.”

He was about to kiss her, when running feet and loud voices announced their offspring’s presence.

“Pa’! I painted something for you!” Alethea’s declaration was followed by her brothers' frantic arm movements demanding to be picked up. “Dada!”

Aesop loosened his arms around his wife, picking up his son who was – once more – clothed in nothing but nappies. “At least you’ve decided to keep your nappies on for once, son.” He heard Katherine laugh softly behind him, knowing she was sharing his thoughts. Theodore was in the habit of walking around naked, refusing to keep his cloth nappy on while the weather was balmy.

“See!” Alethea’s warm eyes – which reminded him so much of Katherine’s - looked up hopefully at him, waving the colorful parchment in front of him. “This is us! Mama, Theodore, me and you! And you know what? I also painted another baby – look!” Her little index finger pointed at her mother’s figure on her masterpiece, which included a swollen stomach. The Potions Master looked at his wife, a question in his eyes which was answered with a humored shaking of her head.

“I have not forgotten to tell you something, it’s simply wishful thinking on our daughter’s part.”

His dark eyebrows rose, eyes now back on his daughter. “You want a whole Quidditch team of siblings, it seems.” He paused, taking in Alethea’s challenging look. “How about picking up your toys? Your mother hurt herself by stepping on one of those. If you treat them carelessly, I must conclude that you don’t like them much.”

The little witch’s eyes grew big.

“No! I do like them very much, Papa! I’ll pick them up, alright.”

“Toys!” Theodore wiggled in his arms, trying to get down to the toys, now that they had been mentioned. Aesop allowed him his freedom, putting him down carefully.

“There you go – pick up your toys and wash your hands. We’ll be waiting for you at the dinner table.”

Katherine’s instructions were given while her hands were busy taking the plates out of the cupboard. Despite her knowing domestic spells quite well by now, and despite her gratefulness for their existence and the frequent application of those, there were some things she simply preferred to do by hand. Aesop assumed it had a meditative effect on her.

“How was work today?” The question pulled him out of his reverie.

“Considering that we only had a staff meeting today and time to ready our classrooms, to prepare for the students approaching arrival, I would regard it as pleasant. I cannot claim having missed Black’s antics, but Dinah seems to have spent her time away adventurously in Brazil.”

The ash blonde witch chuckled.

“I told you about her plans. She was quite taken with the idea of exploring Castelobruxo during the break, and she mentioned looking forward to meeting Caiporas on the school grounds. Troublesome creatures.”

Aesop took the cutlery out of the cupboard, helping his witch set the table.

“Is there anything you do not memorize?”

Placing the last plate on the table, she looked over her shoulder at him; smiling.

“No.”

Their eyes met for longer than would be considered decent if in public, the expression more intense. Katherine could feel the electricity in the air.

“We should do something tonight.”

Her voice was lowered and swung with meaning, inviting him to step closer.

“ Do something? Whatever do you mean?”

Aesop’s teasing made her pout playfully.

“Engage in the act of showing physical affection. Affection husband and wife should share. If you do not know what I am referring to, I fear that I won’t be able to help you.”

He approached her from behind, his arms finding to her waist, his lips kissing her neck leisurely.

Enjoying his touch and smell, she closed her eyes; leaning back against her favorite wizard.

“Sex, darling, you want Sex. I’m more than willing to give you pleasure and seek my own. I’ve yearned to have you naked in my arms again, to see and hear your surrender. It has been far too long since I last tasted you.”

His rumbling voice still captivated her like it had done years ago, and his words did not miss their target. He was right – it had been a while since they had last shared intimacy. Nearly a month had gone by without them doing anything, because the children had been going to bed too late and the days had been rather busy. Whenever they had craved the other, something had come in between.

Her spoken words came out husky.

“I’ll ensure the children will rest earlier tonight. I cannot wait for much longer.”

As if they had called upon the devil, they were once more interrupted by hungry little humans. Their hungry little humans.

“What are we having for dinner, Mama?!” - “Dinner! Dinner!”

Two hours later they had eaten, read and played together; the children’s teeth had been brushed. Goodnight kisses were given and promises of ice cream for the next day were made, but various attempts at fleeing the bed by the children followed, nevertheless. Exasperation was growing in both adults. They loved their children – very much so – but they had been trying to take care of everything on their own, and it was simply overwhelming at times. Looking at each other with a sigh of resignation, they sat down at the bedside of their children once more. Katherine was holding Theodore’s hand, while Aesop had decided to sit on their daughter’s bed; a hand placed on top of her head.

“It’s enough. Your mother and I need to rest, and so do you. It cannot be that you think whatever you want to do is what is going to happen. Sometimes we get our will, other times we do not. Often, we want things that are not in our best interest, and this is one of those instances in your case. We care for you, which means that we must ensure you get proper sleep, and take care of ourselves, so that we have enough energy to spend joyful time with you. If you do not sleep, your body cannot grow and stay healthy, and you probably already noticed that your mother’s patience wears thin, if she does not get some time to herself, haven’t you?” Alethea twisted her mouth, attentively taking in her father’s words.

“I will make the phonograph play some music for you, but you’ll stay in bed, close your eyes and let it accompany you to sleep. You both are tired, we see it in your faces, so be assured that you’re not missing out on anything adventurous. We’re in the house and will do boring things before we ourselves lay down to bed. Sleep, little star, and dream of something nice. Tomorrow morning you can tell me about it.”

Katherine Sharp had never doubted her love for the Ex-Auror, but in such moments – moments in which she was short of losing her temper, and her husband stepped in to take control instead – her feelings for him were overwhelming. Seeing that strict man, which so often was grumpy, being patient and loving with their children, was something incomparable. Waving her wand, she pointed it at the phonograph – calm melodic sounds filling the air.

“I want to dream of mermaids! Or no! I want to dream of fairies! Wait, how about unicorns?!”

Alethea’s excitement made her mother chuckle.

“How about you try dreaming about a fairy on a unicorn, visiting her mermaid friend?”

The little eyes shone with elation.

“What a great idea, Ma!”

Looking down at Theodore, his small hand still in hers, she noticed he had already fallen asleep. His little nose, which she knew would end up looking like his father's, was touching his arm. With a smile on her lips, she leaned down to kiss his soft cheek, before pressing her own cheek against the backside of the little hand. Rising, she looked at Aesop, who had – not without a wince -risen himself.

His eyes held a softness in them that told her he had been watching her moment with Theodore; it made her feel vulnerable in a gratefulness inducing way. She was pleased that he had managed to bring out her soft side with the years, that she did not have to be in a defensive state at any time anymore, and that she was attractive to him in her feminine nature. Her life had been so completely different before Aesop – full of violence which demanded defense, rich in abuse which had made her pull up a wall, packed with a mindset that had demanded to at least partially forego her inclinations. Loss of control and exposure of vulnerability had been her greatest fears, but those had vanished with time and Aesop at her side. Now she was fulfilled in her role as a wife and mother, feeling no need to prove the world how worthy and accomplished she was, having no desire to combat everything and everyone. Nobody who knew her would dare to think her incapable of destruction, so she had learned to simply be . No mask of harsh discipline, no role of invulnerable superiority, no veil of uncaring bluntness.

She had not lost her temperament, which had always been rather fiery; she had not stopped being outspoken, or willing to engage in confrontation where needed, and she most definitely had not left behind her analytical nature which often did not suit those whose desire was to live an illusion entirely focused on emotion. Nevertheless, she had changed, and Aesop Sharp was glad to have given her a secure base to do so. He had not fallen in love with another version of herself, he had simply fallen in love with her true self and seen it hidden beneath all the covering layers.

Caressing his face lovingly, she led the way out of the room.

Hoping their daughter would finally fall asleep with the powerful help of music, they found themselves sitting near the fireplace, nipping on the wine they had decided to enjoy in place of the usual tea. Aesop’s body was relaxed for once, his arm around Katherine’s shoulders. While his thumb was drawing lazy circles on her arm, her hand enjoyed feeling the strength of his leg.

“I miss you”, she whispered. Her dark eyes found his; the fire illuminating her lovely features. His ministrations came to a hold, the hand now drawing her closer to his side. He didn’t know how long he was lost in his thoughts, while he took in her beauty, instead of answering. Her lovely lips were slightly parted, her delicate nose calling to be traced with his much more prominent one, her hair – which was inviting his touch – shone angelically, and the elegant collar bones longed to be kissed.

He did not know what he had done to deserve her and everything they had built together, but he thanked God for this best of blessings.

Finally answering he leaned in.

“I miss you just as much, Kate.”

Her appealing lips turned into a smile, her elegant yet capable hands taking his glass from him to place it on the table before them with her own. Facing him now, she took his rough hands into her softer ones, starting to investigate them first with her fingers and then with her lips.

Looking up at him from under her lashes, she let her velvet tongue glide over his palm, eliciting a sharp intake of air on his part. Pressing an open-mouthed kiss on it gave rise to a growl.

“Let me feel you tonight. I want you on me... and in me, husband.”

Rarely addressing him directly as her husband made the use of the title meaningful. It struck a chord in him – one which awoke possessiveness and protectiveness. He would take care of her like he always did and give this stunning creature the pleasure she deserved to experience. The thought of leaving her untouched, making her feel unloved, was inconceivable.

His strong hands captured her face delicately, as if she were easily breakable. Despite knowing that her porcelain skin had taken damage well over the challenging cycle of her life, he did not dare to handle her roughly – not when he was putting all of his devotion into action. Brushing his eloquent lips against her soft cheek, approaching her eager ear, he spoke – voice low and alluring.

“I will fill you. First I will adore your body, a body that Aphrodite would envy; then I will enter you slowly but forcefully, reflecting our inner disposition; and afterwards – when I moved in you, reaching places that bring you transcendental bliss – I will empty myself into you, filling you, lining you with my seed. It is that what you want from me, wife, is it not? For me to lose myself in you, gifting you another child? Oh, I saw that flicker in your eyes, when you informed me about our daughter’s wishes, Katherine, do not think me ignorant.”

Something akin to a whimper left her involuntarily, her hands gripping his sleek hair. She could feel how her body was preparing for his claiming her, how moisture between her legs was inviting his invasion. “Aesop...”, her voice was quivering; chest seeking contact with his imposing form. Wrapping herself around him by positioning herself on his lap, she locked the door and cast a silencing charm. Despite their frankness with their daughter – which included her knowing about the act of lovemaking – they did not want to expose themselves so openly.

His hands roamed over her curves; his face nestled in her bosom. She felt him inhaling deeply, before a groan left his throat, making his chest vibrate.

“You have no imagination of how alluring you are.”

Rocking against him, her hands still in his hair, she closed her eyes – her head laid back, her throat exposed.

His hands found her nipples through the fabric of her dress, provoking the strong reaction in his wife he had been expecting to receive. A forceful movement of her hips, an impassioned moan, and a strengthening grip on Aesop’s hair kept his attention secured on Katherine’s shapely breasts.

His manhood was straining against his trousers, yearning to be gripped by Katherine’s hidden garden. His self-control, which had seldomly failed him, was hanging on a thread, since he hadn’t indulged his passions for quite a while.

The womanly centre feverishly seeking contact with his masculine counterpart was clouding his thoughts, laying a veil of desire over everything.

It didn’t take long for them to dispose of their clothing. Warm pliable flesh melted against heated solid muscle; audible breathing, moaning, and sighing could be heard, just as much as groaning and soft whispering. As if the weather wanted to emulate their interplay, it started to rain outside – the raindrops falling against the windows, joining their exclamations and the moisture that was building on their bodies.

His lips did not want to part from hers; every time they attempted to, they peeled slowly from them only to close back in. His mind was lost in everything Katherine was, not thinking about how astonishing it was that he reacted to her so intensely even after all those years. He did not find anything lacking in her, nothing he would want to change. She couldn’t be close enough, so his hands pushed her against his erection – his head thrown back onto the backrest of the sofa, - eliciting a high-pitched yelp from his woman; she couldn’t feel better to him, so his hands drew her curves without having coal to immortalize them on parchment, making her the paper and muse simultaneously; she could not look nor smell better, so he made an effort to take in every detail of her beauty; drowning in her sweet aroma which called him home. He loved her – profusely and unconditionally. Joining their bodies was seldomly an act of lust alone, but a desire to lose oneself in the other; this time being no different.

Her movements became desperate, making him aware of her haunting her release by seeking friction on his erect cock. Still caught in the delirium of desire, trying to support her in her ambition, he moved her hips. It would be futile to deny that her chasing kindled his passion even further, leading to him losing the fight against attempts at being silent. He moaned in surrender.

“Use me to your satisfaction, Kate. Show me how greatly you hunger for me.”

His words ran through her like lightning. To outsiders it may have painted a picture of submission on Aesop’s part, but it was on Katherine to surrender to her souls yearning for her husband. The bidding which had left his mouth awakened the need in her to show him the dedication for him that was a constant companion. Raising her hips, she guided him to her entrance, slowly sinking down; taking him in. A moan of extraordinary pleasurable nature was shared, her walls closing around him. She felt complete in the combination of being stretched by his impalement, and his arms surrounding her. Foreheads touching each other, she began to move on top of him – his hand, which had found to the apex of her thighs, kindling the fire inside. Smelling him – masculine and enchanting – and feeling his hair-covered skin upon hers, supported her inner turmoil of enticing fantasies which fought for dominance. She gave in to the most appealing of all: Him taking pleasure from her, using her and spending himself inside of her to breed. She was the one he chose; she was the one he wanted to not only fuck but make the mother of his children; she was the one he wanted to fill up to the brim with his precious seed, she was the one he made his queen and protected with everything he could. A whimper escaped her, the rocking of her hips quickening. Her hands rove through his bearded distinctive face, up into his hair, their eyes meeting with intensity. It was difficult to comprehend how this capable intelligent man had claimed her, how he was choosing her every single day. The thought and feeling of this powerful wizard driving into her made the friction against her bud effective, shutting her eyes and letting her pale feminine body spasm in ecstasy. Feeling her inner walls gripping him firmly, her beautiful face contorted in the transcendental bliss Aesop had promised her, he had to fight to keep control. Wanting to enjoy the feeling of her for a bit longer, he indulged in her beauty and softness, bringing his hand to his nose, to breath in her arousing musky honey, which he had managed to coax out of her.

With a dexterous move, earning him a surprised intake of air followed by a chuckle from Katherine, he laid her down on the sofa, now towering above her. His eyes shone in that special way again, reminding her of the time he had approached her at Hogwarts, when he was suspecting her pregnant. Admiration – something akin to it – came closest to describing it accurately. She smiled.

“What is it?”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes not leaving her.

“You are ethereal.”

Taking his face into her hands again, she smiled – loving amusement dancing in her eyes, which so much reminded him of warming black tea.

“It would be truth and lie contemporaneously, if I would claim to never be capable of understanding how you can see me that way. Truth, because I do not see myself the way you do; lie, because I can estimate how you must see me due to my similar view of you.”

She paused.

“Well, I wouldn’t describe you as ethereal, but there is simply no way of a woman being more attracted to a man than I am to you.”

A smirk was pulling at the corners of his mouth; his eyes even now fixated on her.

“Intellectualizing everything... How very Katherine .” His gruff voice mirrored his amusement, before his facial expression turned serious once more.

Having her laying below him, her hair fanned out around her, was intoxicating. He could see the little scar above her left brow which she had gotten as a teenager, one that barely anyone else could see, unless they were searching for it in her face. He could see the little birthmark on the point of her little elegant nose. He could see the laugh lines that were starting to form, and he loved every single detail about the woman who had willingly chosen to be his companion. Stroking her forehead and gliding over her shining wavy hair, he lowered his lips to her jaw, kissing just below it.

“What would I be doing without you?”

She felt his arousal against her thigh, his warm lips at her jaw, and enjoyed his hands now on her throat. He wasn’t choking her, not today, no, he was soothing it with his thumb and making her hope he would proceed in his ministrations. She barely registered his question, wasn’t even sure if she should take it as rhetorical or answer.

“I do not want to think about that for a second, Aesop. You have me, so come into me.”

The eyes which had closed as soon as his lips had met her skin opened, begging him for union.

After one last heated look, his strong hand glid along her leg before raising it, his sex demanding entrance when it met hers. The feeling of him coming into her once again made her back leave the furniture, the sensation of him opening her overwhelming. A silent groan left him, his head seeking comfort at her neck; hair falling into his handsome aged face.

When he started moving, pushing and pulling his arousal through his wife, making sure he met the spot inside of her which never failed to make her moan exquisitely, he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. He had needed her for too long as to be capable of resisting her pull on him for any longer; felt himself getting lost in the paradise she was to him – Eden, which welcomed him instead of being a home he had been exiled from due to his transgressions. Lowering his head to the fruit, which was not forbidden to him, he engulfed her nipple with his avid mouth – his hips moving with enthusiasm. The sounds she produced where like a heavenly choir to him, her hands on his solid buttocks grabbing and animating him. Biting his teeth together – hands tightly holding onto her – he drove himself deeper into her, meeting the entrance to her womb. The sweetest sound yet escaped her accompanied by her sex’s rhythmical dance around him. Giving in to the siren her orgasm had become, he drowned, filling her with the last he had to give – semen spilling into her as a witness to his surrender.

His body, which seconds ago had been strained in effort and anticipation, was now at ease – head lying in Katherine’s lap. His leg hurt more than he wanted to admit, having ignored it while exercising in devotion. Raising himself up with a wince, he sat beside the warm exhausted but satisfied body of his lover. Taking her hand into his, he guided it to his lips – his head resting on the backrest of the furniture. A tired smile came in response to his affection, her breathing evening out.

“I love you.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, but neither the fire crackling in the fireplace nor the rain hitting the window managed to silence it.

“I love you”, he repeated with meaning; his eyes meeting hers.

As usual they had ended up talking for hours after their shared intimacy – from politics, the state of society, and the future to come, to their children’s seemingly quick growth and what they would like to snack.

A bath later they were preparing for bed. Having checked on their offspring – which had been long asleep – the phonogram was now playing in the master bedroom. Aesop, who was lying in bed while attempting to read, looked over his glasses at his wife. She was standing at the sink of their bathroom, door open, her body clad in a lilac-coloured silken negligee. Her hair in an up-do, he saw her delicate neck and clavicle. Her hips were softly swaying with the music that was playing, while she made sure to apply cream to her pretty face.

“I know that you are watching me, Aesop. Does the book fail to entertain?”

Closing the book and taking off his glasses, he huffed.

“The book is not to blame for failing to compete with you.”

He saw her grin while she closed the door behind her.

“You had your full share of me tonight, Professor. I dare claim that a good book would be able to keep your attention for a while.”

A wave of her hand turned off the music while she climbed into the bed.

“You are mistaken. Having had you tonight only put you in your rightful place – right at the centre of my attention.”

Her eyes spoke of her adoration for him, ensuring him that his efforts at being a good husband were appreciated.

“Well, we should ensure our time spent in a state of undress doesn’t come too short”, she said with humour shortly before becoming more earnest. “I missed you terribly.”

He welcomed her into his arms, making sure her head was resting comfortably on his chest.

“Do you think I put a babe in you tonight?”

He seemed thoughtful, though not hesitant in seeking an answer.

She pressed a kiss to his chest.

“You might have. According to my calendar the possibility is quite high.”

His hand was massaging her scalp distractedly.

“The Sharp line continuing.” His voice seemed infused with wonder, acceptance and hope.

He felt her smile against his chest.

“The Sharp line continuing. I told you we would build a legacy and I intend to keep that promise.”

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #wizarding world #hogwarts #fandom #fanfiction #fluff #female original character #harry potter #family #writing #romance

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sora-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Fallen Down

Fallen Angel AU Oneshot

Content warnings: None! Just an angel throwing himself out of Heaven so he can be gay.

Enjoy! It’s a newer AU, and I’m pretty proud of how this turned out!

—————————————————————————

From the moment Luca’s body fell back from the edge of the heavenly platform beneath him, the entire world became nothing but a blur.

His eyes grew dull as he allowed himself to go limp, tears streaking upwards from his half-closed eyes as he braced himself for his end.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

What was the true fate of a fallen angel?

The wind battered at his rosy-cheeked face, his hair whipping back in its rigid current. His wings were fanned out behind him, their clipped feathers spread out to catch the breeze one final time.

Through the soft swirls of orange, purple, and pink from the sunset skies around him, he could catch a slight glimpse of the ground below, which was rapidly starting to draw closer as he fell faster and faster.

As his body reached the atmosphere, his wings instinctively tucked themselves in, wrapping around his barely conscious form and acting as a shield, in the same moment that he was overcome by a strong, almost electrical energy, which crackled through him as he steadily gained momentum in his fall.

The former angel smiled sadly as he allowed his eyes to close, knowing that there was a good chance of them never opening again.

He lost awareness of the world around him merely a few seconds before he finally hit the ground, leaving a huge crater in his wake.

——————————

“...Luca?”

The fallen angel stirred at the sound of the soft-spoken voice, groaning slightly as his wings slowly unfurled, revealing his weakened form to the world around him.

His head was throbbing, and his body felt like it had been broken in every possible way, but... He was alive?

Luca opened his eyes, squinting as he was partially blinded with the sun’s radiant light. “Wh... Wha..?”

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was greeted with the sight of a familiar face... A face he knew and loved with all his heart.

There was no way he could mistake that soft, silver hair, or that gentle, sharp-fanged smile, or those glittering red eyes, for anyone else.

...It was the face that had made him clip his wings and break away from heaven to begin with.

“Aes.. Aesop...?”

The demon nodded, a small tear rolling down his cheek as he moved forward, running his hand through the fallen angel’s tangled brunet hair as he fought to keep that soft smile plastered on his face.

“You... You left...” He bit his lip. “Why did... Why did you leave..? Why did you sacrifice everything...?”

Luca gave a light chuckle, wincing as he became aware of the dull ache in his chest. “I-Isn’t it obvious? I couldn’t s-stand living without you. B-Being in Heaven for all e-eternity... Its m-meaningless if I c-can’t have you there with me.”

Aesop forced his grin to widen before he quickly turned his head away, blinking back the tears in his eyes before the former angel could see them. “You... You made a big mistake then...”

Luca tilted his head to the side, a curious look in his eyes. “Hm? H-How so?”

Aesop didn’t meet his gaze. “You just... You had everything you ever wanted up there... So why... Why would you throw it all away, just to be with me?”

“Y-You’re forgetting one b-big thing here...” The angel smiled weakly. “I-I had everything except y-you. And I c-couldn’t keep living like th-that.”

“But I’m...”

“A demon?” Luca finished, looking up at the other being with a questioning look in his eyes. “Th-That doesn’t m-matter to me. I-I love you for who you are. Even if you c-came from Hell.”

Aesop glanced back at the fallen angel as he shakily took ahold of his hand, pulling it in close as if silently asking for affection.

“Wow... You... You must be crazy.”

“M’not crazy. I just d-don’t wanna miss out on the man I love.”

Aesop’s cheeks flushed with a pale red color. “Well... The sacrifice you had to make... Means a lot to me... To think that you threw away a life of peace and happiness to be with me...”

“Don’t mention it. It’s only a s-small price to pay for love.”

Aesop’s smile widened as he finally allowed himself to cuddle up next to his fallen lover, closing his eyes and embracing the warm, welcoming aura that the former angel still radiated, despite having cut his ties with the heaven he came from.

“...It’s good to have you back, Lu.”

Luca breathed a soft sigh of relief, allowing his body to relax once more in the presence of the person he’d been missing.

“...I’m glad to be back, Aesop.”

#sora writes things #identity v #identity v au #idv #idv au #idv oneshot #oneshot #aesop carl #luca balsa #fallen angel au #fallen angel! luca #demon! aesop #fallen angel #demon #slight angst #gay #lucaesop

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expectodragons · 8 months

Text

The Act of Begging || 18+ Oneshot

✦ Summary: It's getting harder to focus during Potions class and only one person is to blame for that.

✦ Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Female Reader

✦ Word Count: 1,600

✦ Rating: Explicit, 18+ only - minors do not interact.

✦ Tags / Warnings: Age difference, praise kink, professor kink, PWP, reader is of age, slight power dynamics, student/professor relationship, vaginal fingering.

✦ A/N: It's 3am and I have no idea where this idea suddenly emerged from.

It started as a soft tingling – the not-so-quiet niggling in the back of your mind every time you caught the brooding gaze from across the room. The burning stare that made your thighs squeeze together and your chin dip down to your collarbone when the flush of heat spread across your cheeks.

How many times have you scolded yourself now?

It was all so wrong.

But surely something this wrong couldn’t taste half as sweet as the taste of his lips when they met yours.

You force yourself to stare down at your potion notes, trying to drown out the rumble of his voice as he lectures from his desk. But all you can hear is the sound of his gritted moans and muttered warnings ringing out in your head. You grip your hands together in your lap and will the lesson to finish.

You pride yourself in only sparring a single glance at the professor when Natty loops her arm through yours and nearly drags you out of the classroom. His eyes never lift from his desk.

Later that evening, no one so much as bats an eye when you slip away from the common room. You claimed to be in desperate need of a volume on advanced spellcasting from the library before curfew. Exams were only another three weeks away, after all. It was a believable excuse as any.

The library is not where you find yourself, however. As you hurry down another flight of stone stairs and take off down a familiar corridor. Shrouded in a faint glow from the collection of flickering hanging lanterns, the potions classroom is a still sight when you peer around the open doorway. Small footfalls lead you to the ajar door of the professor’s office.

He doesn’t even blink an eye when you step over the threshold.

You don’t even question how he knows it’s you every time – he just does.

Sharp presses the end of his quill against a piece of parchment, striking out passages and adding pointed notes to the essay in front of him.

“You’re late,” he mutters.

As though you had a set meeting time. As though any of this was ever planned out beforehand.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, despite yourself.

With a sigh, the older professor sets his quill to the side along with the stack of essays. Placing his elbows on his desk, and his chin upon his fist, he stares up at you with a scrutinizing glance that you can’t quite decide if it’s annoyed or hungry.

“Come here.”

Like you’ve fallen under his spell, you obey. Dutifully rounding the table to stand before him as he flicks his wand at the door – both closing and locking it – and manages to turn his chair to face you.

He reaches out toward you. The back of his hand drags down from the curve of your shoulder to the swell of your breast. You watch in awe as his finger presses against the rounded point of your blouse before he draws his hand back to his lap.

Sharp leans back in his chair, his legs falling open on either side.

“Let me see you.”

Sensing the heat radiating from his eyes, you feel your nimble fingers rising to the task of unbuttoning your shirtwaist. Slow and deft, the blouse falls aside – exposing your thin shift to the humid air of the office. Sharp rests his hand upon his thigh, rubbing in a lazy circular pattern as you push the shirt from your shoulders.

Reaching behind your back, you pop the two buttons on your skirt before that too joins your blouse on the flagstone floor. Stepping out of the pooled cloth, you manage to lower your gaze to meet the potion professor’s.

The look he gives you sends a bolt of heat to your belly like a flash of lightning, radiating out to every appendage until your neck and ears flush and your thighs give another involuntary squeeze.

“My darling girl,” he muses in that low tone of his.

Warm thick fingers wrap around your wrist as he pulls you toward him. You sink down onto the chair – pushing his legs inward as you rest your knees on either side of him. It’s a tight fit, but you hardly notice the slight agitation of pain flaring up as he leans forward to press his lips against yours.

A contented sigh falls from your mouth as the longing reaches the surface.

Surely it had been weeks, months, years since he had last had you like this. Since he had dragged you down and devoured you with every ounce of passion he had inside him.

Aesop draws back, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he meets your eyes.

“I missed you,” you whisper against the breath of space between your lips.

Your body rocks an inch forward in his lap as you seek him out – his touch, his presence, his attention. It’s all within reach, yours for the taking, but he keeps you steady with another hand resting upon the bare expanse of your right thigh.

“Did you miss me?”

His eyes darken a fraction and you find yourself transfixed in the glorious spiderweb-like lines resting there in his iris. Mixtures of charcol and ink rippling along with a splash of mystery and desire.

He smirks as his hips rut upward, just barely grazing your wet core.

“I always miss your presence when you are away.”

Your head falls back as the feeling of warm fingers begin to travel higher up your thigh – pushing aside the hem of your white shift.

“Aesop…” you sigh, tilting your hips forward to meet him – desperate to feel his touch there upon your most sensitive of places.

You hear the warm drawl of his chuckle as his knuckles rub against your aching lips.

“Oh!”

Dipping between the folds, his curled fingers drag through the velvet wetness that your desire has produced. You barely catch his next act – as your eyes snap open and your mouth falls in heavenly awe.

Bringing his hand up to his lips, holding your gaze, he sucks his own fingers into his mouth. With a pleased moan, his eyes flutter shut.

Grabbing hold of his forearms, you seek out his clothed girth beneath you. His head lulls to the side as he blinks back up at you – a knowing smile tugging at his pink lips.

“So wet for me and all from what? A kiss?”

A whine tugs at your throat as you try in vain to rut against his lap.

“Please,” you beg softly – eyes squeezed shut with your desperate attempts at relief.

There’s a beat of silence, of stillness.

And then…

“Yes…”

You can hear the curled smile on his lips as Aesop drags his fingers through your warm lips once again.

“I do love it when you beg, darling.”

Soon, you’re thrusting forward to meet his lazy exploration of your cunt. Crying out each time his finger grazes against the throbbing bundle of nerves at the top of your womanhood.

“Please, oh Merlin. Please, Professor.”

Like the flick of a wand, like a sudden change in the weather, Aesop grips hold of your left thigh and presses his thumb against your clit – rubbing a punishing rhythm that has you withering, sobbing out as you chase that nearing high.

And then he pushes forward. The prickles of his beard scrape against your neck as his lips descend upon your sensitive skin. His teeth graze your flesh but never sink in – though you wish for once he would just let go and give in to his desires. But his tongue flicks over your pulse point as his wonderful fingers work you up into a tizzy that has your thoughts turned to nothing more than the sensation of him beneath you.

“Come on,” he grunts. “Be a good girl now.”

“Oh!”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he works the rhythm with quick little flicks of his thumb. You can feel that familiar coil in your womb as the feeling of blissful release nears.

“Go on,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to your heated skin. “Make a mess on my fingers and show me how good I make you feel.”

Yes, yes, yes. Your hips snap forward as you seek out that perfect touch, grinding yourself against his hand as your pleasure reaches its peak, and then down, down, down you go…

“Oh god.”

Rutting lazily against his palm, you can feel the sticky wet mess of your release dribbling out of your cunt.

Aesop’s lips press a trail of kisses from your neck up to your jawline, before he places a ghosting touch near the corner of your mouth. Leaning back, you meet his desire-blown gaze.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs with a pleased sort of smile.

You can feel the drag of his fingers through your soaked folds, the teasing digit circling your entrance. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Taking hold of your bottom lip with your teeth, you grind down lightly against his open palm – much to his pleasure.

“Please.”

A calloused hand cups your cheek as he prods gently at your quivering center.

“Please what?”

Forcing your breath to steady out, you meet his hungry gaze.

“Please… Professor.”

He hums with delight as he presses his finger past the tight ring of your throbbing cunt.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in a non-too-sweet voice.

Your cries befall his parted lips as he tugs you closer and brings you to the brink for the second time that night.

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