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wildflower-otome · 8 months

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[Translation] Clover no Kuni no Alice ~Promise Red~ Light Novel - Chapter 1

Writer: Sana Shirakawa Artist: 文月ナナ Summary: Sequel to White Calling. By arrangement with the Boss of the Hatter Family, Blood Dupre, Alice is now living temporarily at Heart Castle until the Assembly period is over. However, for some reason, the Prime Minister, the White Rabbit Peter, is behaving strangely and suddenly starts to avoid Alice….. Despite not knowing what he’s thinking, her feelings for him continue to grow—In the midst of their estrangement, what fate does the bewildered Alice choose!?

ACT 1 – What awaited after falling was a white rose

Ever since she had come to this world, she had thought she had already become pretty used to its complete lack of common sense.

It was the case for everyone that lived at the Mansion where she had been staying up until now. A fickle Mafia Boss who was always drinking an excessive amount of tea. A large rabbit who was always craving orange coloured food. Innocent gatekeepers who loved sharp, pointed objects. Servants who were all equipped with guns. No matter how you looked at it, their behaviour was the furthest thing from what Alice took to be common sense.

However, if one were to continually experience such nonsensicality, you would eventually become accustomed to it. In that sense, Alice had thought that she was fairly adaptable…..though that was both a good and bad thing, to her mind.

That she was becoming gradually less surprised at this situation every time it happened, probably wasn’t good though.

‘Hey, why are you in my bed again…..Vivaldi?’

‘…..Hu-…..ahh? “Why” is rather a cold question, is it not, Alice? As fellow women, there is nothing wrong with us sleeping together, is there?’

‘Now wait just a moment, this is my room after all…..although I am staying here for free.’

Anyone would be surprised to dreamily turn over in their sleep, only to find a black-haired beauty comfortably sprawled next to them.

Nonetheless this wasn’t the first time the Queen of Hearts had found her way into Alice’s bed.

‘It’s fine, is it not? There is no disadvantage for you in it, is there?’

As she drew Alice nearer and hugged her, Vivaldi smelled, as usual, of roses.

Different from the master of the Mansion’s, a dense and somehow alluring scent of flowers emanated from her entire body.

‘No, but even I’d be startled having someone sneak into my bed over and over again-…..not to mention-‘

When she stretched out her arm a little from within Vivaldi’s embrace, and pulled back the sheets….. the head of yet another person appeared.

The short brown hair made a ‘Mmn?’ noise as it turned around. The voice sounded sleepy, but with Alice raising her voice at a close distance, there was no way he was asleep. He was also another person who was perceptive to the presence of others.

‘Why are you here too, Ace-!?’ Don’t tell me you two planned this together-‘

Alice’s tone was harsh as she complained, and Ace gave a bright laugh as he answered.

‘Hm~, it’s a shame, but I wasn’t thinking about getting friendlier with you and her Majesty, you know? I just got lost while I was in the Castle and ended up in this room by coincidence. Hahahaha-‘

‘Do not joke, we would never plan anything with this one. Even if he got down on his knees and begged, you know we would just drive him away, of course? And if he kept being persistent, we would cut off his head.’

The deep displeasure in the Queen’s voice echoing at her back was clear, but for Alice stuck between the two of them, the whole thing was a massive pain.

Since the first Assembly had ended and she had moved to Heart Castle, about twenty time periods had passed. Alice continued to sleep at night as she had before, but just how many more times would she have to experience this when she woke up?

Even if this was a stay officially sanctioned by her household head, Alice didn’t have the kind of whimsicality to be able enjoy a situation like this.

‘Vivaldi. Please let me go already. I’ve got to get up now…..Isn’t this the evening time period you like so much?’

The sky visible from her window had already changed to the vivid colours of twilight. In this world where the weather remained stable, the colour of the sky always indicated which period of time it was.

‘Hm…..so it is, but…..it feels just so comfortable holding you like this. Let us chase away the nuisance, we wish to nap for just a little while longer.’

As the Queen, still hugging Alice, laughed, the Knight who had just been called a nuisance, complained, ‘You’re so mean, Majesty.’

‘…..You guys…..’

Just as she was thinking on how she could escape this impossible situation-

Bang! With a loud noise, the door to the room was opened.

Alice was startled as there hadn’t been so much as a knock in warning, but the other two didn’t seem too bothered.

‘What is it, White? We are spending time with Alice. Take this knight that doesn’t know when not to interrupt and get back to work.’

‘…..I do not wish to told that by the chief reason there is so much work left unfinished, your Majesty.’

Bathed in the colours of the setting sun, the White Rabbit was sighing as he looked at his superior and coworker.

The red gingham overcoat he wore appeared even more bright red than usual.

Having come right up next to the bed, the Prime Minister of Heart Castle, Peter White, spoke bluntly.

‘Please hurry up and get out of there. You’re causing Alice trouble.’

‘…..How rude, were it not evening, we would have your head. Right, Alice?’

‘It’s fine, Vivaldi. If you’ve got work, you’d better go.’

Alright? As she spoke with a cute tilt of the head, Vivaldi reluctantly got up. The nightwear she wore displayed her soft curves in a way that even Alice, who was of the same sex, was entranced despite herself.

‘Tch-…..We came here to escape from all that bothersome work, but if you say so, we suppose we must return. But, Alice. In the next break period, you will have tea with us, will you not?’

Red fingertips stretched out in a single smooth movement to trace the girl’s jaw, as she caught Alice up in her gaze.

Lightly touching her hand, the girl gave a shy smile. If the tea party was after she had finished her work, Alice had no reason to refuse.

‘Sure. It’s a promise. So, make sure you finish up quickly.’

‘What a naughty child…..You know well how to motivate us.’

Vivaldi had reluctantly come out of the bed, but the remaining intruder had stayed there lying on his side watching them talk.

‘Ace, hurry up and get back to work too. That’s an order.’

‘Aw-. But unlike you Majesty, I don’t have any unfinished paperwork to do?’

‘You also had a match scheduled with your subordinates, did you not? You’re in charge of the military, yet you’re always lost, please at least do the work that’s been given to you.’

‘Tch-…..Guess I’ve got no choice.’

Once Vivaldi clicked her fingers, her outfit had changed to that of her usual red dress.

When Alice turned around, Ace was no longer in the bed. He had picked up and put on the coat that had lain discarded on the floor and was now stretching.

‘It’s nice to give everyone some training now and then or they get bored…..perhaps it’s good timing. See you then, Alice.’

Waving goodbye, Ace left the room, following after Vivaldi.

‘…..…..’

‘Ah.’

This left only the White Rabbit and the girl in the middle of her temporary stay over.

‘Um…..thanks, Peter. You helped me out.’

‘Not at all.’

Once she had said her thanks despite feeling awkward, Peter smiled and shook his head.

But the smile he gave was also awkward. He had never smiled that way up until now.

If he had been as before, and Vivaldi and Ace had snuck into Alice’s bedroom, she wondered what would have happened.

‘It’s unfair, Alice! Why are you sleeping with her Majesty and Ace, and not me!? Please sleep with me-!’

Is probably what he would have said as he barged in.

He didn’t even once try to get into the bed. Rather, he was making an effort not to get any closer to Alice than necessary.

Even though up until now he’d always been following her around, causing her trouble.

Alice herself felt bewildered at how restless she felt having him put distance between them.

‘Peter…..um, after this-‘

‘I’m sorry, Alice. I still have other errands I need to-…..’

‘Huh?’

‘I’ll come again. See you then.’

‘W-wait, just a minute, Peter-‘

Without turning to look back at the hand she had stretched out toward him on reflex, he left the room.

‘……….’

The sound of the door closing with a bang echoed strangely loudly across the room.

‘It happened again.’

Peter had been acting distant ever since Alice had come to stay temporarily at Heart Castle. Even though all her visits until now had begun with him saying stalker-ish stuff like, ‘I love you,’ they hadn’t really spoken, outside of exchanging the bare minimum of greetings.

No—it wasn’t just that, each time he saw Alice’s face, it would end with him hurriedly running away. Like he had just now.

‘…..As if you actually plan on coming by later…..’

A room that did not fare unfavourably compared to the one she had at Hatter Mansion. A bed that had been installed in the empty space that was far too vast. There Alice sat as she drew her knees up against her and sighed.

Despite being the one to say that he would take her home with him even if it was against Alice’s will at Clover Tower.

She didn’t understand why he had so suddenly become aloof. The fact that she felt lonely at not understanding him only confused her further.

‘…..Peter…..’

What came into her mind was the face of her first love, and the words he had said to her.

—I’m sorry, Alice. I’ve-…..—

She wondered if she would end up hearing the same words from Peter as well.

Had she hurt him in some way? Or perhaps he hated her now.

‘It can’t be, not Peter, of all people…..’

I like you. I love you. You are the only one I love.

The words of love he had repeated again and again. She had heard those romantic lines any number of times up until now, as if he were a broken record. The words she had always let go in one ear and out the other, thinking nothing of them, now felt nostalgic, almost as if she missed hearing them.

‘…..…..’

The one to guide her to this world had been that White Rabbit. It had also been him who had made her drink the bitter medicine and gotten her caught up in the Game.

It had all begun with Peter.

Following her around like a stalker. The things she said never getting through to those long ears. A clean freak, but for all that, indiscriminately wanting to touch her.

‘…..…..’

It had never occurred to her before.

That Peter would ever put space between himself and Alice.

‘Peter.’

—Weren’t you going to stay with me forever?—

Despite the fact they were now living in the same place, he felt even further away than when she had lived in the Hatter’s territory.

She couldn’t help but feel that even the spark she had seen in those red eyes the night she had been attacked now existed only in her memories.

‘Peter.’

A voice that didn’t reach even when she called out to him, and a back that did not turn around to look at her.

Chilled fingertips that were not held.

Alice still didn’t understand what this stinging feeling, like claws digging into her chest, was.

***

‘Lord White, is it? Yes, I believe he should be in his room at this time period.’

Because he was carrying documents from the trial from the time period just before.

One of the castle’s maids readily answered when Alice asked Peter’s whereabouts.

Though she was currently in the half-baked situation of temporarily staying at Heart Castle, while still being a resident of Hatter Mansion, an enemy territory, there was no change in how the maids whom Alice was friendly with treated her. Rather, it was as if they welcomed her presence.

Not only did she have the traits to be liked by the people of this world, but when she was there the Queen was always in a good mood.

Nevertheless, they weren’t over the top in their treatment of her. When it came to that sort of thing, they were well acquainted with how to maintain an appropriate distance.

‘I see, thank you. Sorry for interrupting you at your work.’

Alice was a guest, so it didn’t seem right for her to be getting in the way of the maids’ work. When she apologized for making her stop walking, she vigorously shook her head and said, ‘Not at all-! I am very honoured just to be able to talk to you. It makes me happy.’

‘…..Really?’

‘Yes.’

Her face difficult to see, the maid was one of those called the faceless. However, right now, her cheeks looked as if they were tinged a faint red.

‘It’s said that the people of Heart Castle seem heartless, but right now I feel kind of happy.’

She smiled broadly.

The woman wearing the black maid outfit smiled happily as she spoke and nodded.

Outsiders were those who had the special characteristics to be liked by the people of this world. She had, of course, already experienced being liked by people that weren’t role holders.

‘Is that so? But if I interrupt your work too often, I’ll be a bother to you, won’t I?’

‘Of course not- Please don’t worry, call out to me at any time. You would not be a bother at all.’

Laughing a little awkwardly at the maid’s insistence, Alice quietly began to walk.

The place she was headed was the room of the White Rabbit.

It was a place she had been to many times when she had been at Hatter Mansion. However, since she had started staying at Heart Castle, Alice had not yet entered the gingham checkered room.

The reason why was simple. The owner of the room had not invited her there.

“Alice-. Ah, you’ve come to see me again! I’m so happy. I was just thinking that I wanted to see you, this must be a miracle of love indeed!”

Up until now, when Alice had visited the Castle, he had often brought her into his room while saying things like that. She had been resistant at first, but halfway through had given up, realising it was futile.

Peter’s face as he gazed at Alice as she rambled on about whatever came to mind seemed so happy you would not think he was the same Prime Minister of Heart Castle infamous for his cold-heartedness. Even if the things she talked about didn’t always properly get through to the long ears, the good will Peter felt for her was obvious to anyone who saw them.

No, perhaps it was already past the level of mere good will.

After all, he was the kind of Rabbit to say, ‘I love you’ over and over regardless of where they were. It wasn’t just once or twice that he had come at her with stalker-like persistency.

Alice had come to Heart Castle almost half-dragged there by that persistency. Since she had come to the Castle, the time periods had already changed about twenty times. It was the first time she had stayed such a long period of time somewhere other than the Mansion.

Alice had never spent more than five time periods away without returning since being in the Country of Hearts, no, ever since the move to the Country of Clover.

Until now she had had her job to do. No, outside of work, she had also made promises to have tea parties with her fickle employer and to play with the twin Gatekeepers.

I have to return to Hatter Mansion by this time.

The limits she had imposed on herself as if it were only natural now no longer existed.

—I don’t mind if you stay over at Heart Castle temporarily.—

During the Assembly period the conflict between Mafia organisations had intensified. Alice hadn’t found the suggestion her head of household had made in consideration of the fact that she had been targeted twice in a row to be a disagreeable one.

However, if she had imagined the situation would be like this…..she wondered whether she would even have come to the Castle at all.

When she came to Heart Castle she had expected that he would spend all his time following her around. She had thought he wouldn’t leave her side for a single time period if she didn’t prompt him not to. She had even imagined herself smiling wryly calling him a troublesome Prime Minister.

However, the level of contact she had with the White Rabbit had suddenly declined ever since she had come from Clover Tower to stay at the Castle. She wondered if she had offended him in some way.

He had never felt this remote to her up until now. And that it made her feel lonely surprised even her.

Of course a person would find it odd if someone who had been acting like a stalker towards them suddenly distanced themselves without any warning. That was why Alice had always thought that it was Peter who was the one who was behaving strangely.

‘Ever since I came to Heart Castle I haven’t really gone out all that much. I haven’t gone to the Forest doors even once either…..maybe that’s why he doesn’t follow me around anymore.’

He couldn’t leave Alice on her own since the doors were leading her astray. He could not entrust her to Hatter Mansion in the state she was in.

That had been what Peter had insisted when he had forcefully brought Alice with him to Heart Castle.

Worried herself about the White Rabbit’s unstable condition, she had gone along with her master’s considerate suggestion but…..she had no idea why Peter had suddenly become distant.

No matter the reason, Alice didn’t want to keep on feeling awkward like this. She had thought she had to talk to him at least once, but it appeared the White Rabbit’s ears were highly efficient at odd times. Whenever he sensed her presence, he ended up disappearing before she realised it.

She certainly did not feel like interrupting him when he was in the middle of work, but she couldn’t remain unbothered when he was purposely avoiding her to this extent.

‘…..-‘

Alice stopped walking at the thought that had risen unbidden into her mind.

‘But that means he’s definitely been avoiding me, for sure.’

Peter, avoiding Alice. Peter, trying to distance himself from Alice.

The words didn’t seem to fit that stalker-ish Prime Minister at all.

So thinking, once she had gone down the familiar corridor she arrived at Peter’s room.

Come to think of it, whenever she had visited before Peter had always been with her, so entering like this by knocking on the door was a first-time experience for her.

Normally it would be the other way around. However, the White Rabbit, who had always welcomed Alice’s visits, had appeared to be delighted to ask her there himself.

But now it was different for the both of them.

The fact that her body had unconsciously tensed was also part of it. She took a single breath to calm herself, then steeled her resolve and raised an arm.

Knock knock.

Standing quietly in front of the door, she knocked. The sound echoed, but there was no response from within.

‘Peter, are you there? I just want to talk for a bit.’

She tried calling out, but there was no response or any signs of someone moving around inside.

From what the maid had said earlier, he had brought his work into his room with him, so if he was really there, there should be some kind of sound. But it was completely silent.

‘……Maybe he isn’t in?’

‘Whatcha doing there, Alice?’

‘-!!’

Hearing a voice suddenly call out from behind, she flinched and shrank in on herself,

turning around in a fluster.

‘Ace! Don’t get so close and call out from behind me out of nowhere like that!’

‘Hahaha. But even when I got close to you, you didn’t notice me at all. Was just wondering what you were concentrating so hard on, is all.’

Unabashed, the Knight as he spoke nonchalantly appeared to be the same as always. He had a remarkable talent for getting lost, so that was most likely why he was wandering around the Castle yet again.

Because Ace was always continuously roaming about whether inside or outside the Castle, she always ended up meeting him in places she had not expected to.

‘I wasn’t really concentrating or anything like that.’

‘Really? Didn’t seem like you noticed me when I saw you and called out though…..or where you ignoring me?’

He grinned.

His smile seemed as friendly as always, but his eyes looked somehow scary. Like he was only smiling on the surface, but there was no emotion behind it.

She couldn’t help but feel as if she were talking to a mask.

‘I wasn’t ignoring you. I honestly just didn’t notice you were there…..’

‘Then, that means your mind was completely full of something else. If you weren’t ignoring me, that means I wasn’t able to get you to pay attention to me. That’s cold of you, Alice.’

‘…..Ace?’

Using the difference in their physiques to his advantage, the red-wearing body had all at once pushed Alice against the door.

When she averted her gaze to the side, she saw grey-coloured gloves. Both his sturdy arms had been placed on either side of her, causing her to be unable to move.

What Alice saw as she turned her head back towards the Knight to complain were faintly amused looking red eyes.

‘I thought you were just as lost as I am, but looks like I was wrong. You’re no fun at all.’

His voice sounded discontent, yet at the same time somehow lonely.

Hearing him sound that way was so unexpected, Alice’s eyes widened.

‘What, are you saying, Ace?’

‘Well, you know, I had heard that you often got lost in the Forest of Doors. I’d thought for sure that meant you were lost too.’

‘…..No matter how lost I get, I could never be as bad as you.’

The doors’ voices often led Alice astray. The doors of the Forest, and the doors of the Tower…..neither were good influences on her.

‘Anyway, that said…..I’ve got business with Peter. Don’t get in my way.’

‘With Peter?’

‘This is Peter’s room!’

As she tapped the door at her back, Ace looked around him, saying ‘Ahh,’ as he gave a vigorous nod of understanding.

‘I see, so this is Peter’s room. Man, I didn’t realise at all. I had thought this place looked familiar, hahahaha-‘

Hearing the bright sounding laugh, Alice at last relaxed.

She didn’t understand why. But she had unconsciously been afraid of Ace when he had trapped her against the door.

This world had very few people with common sense in it to begin with. Despite knowing full well he was another person that wasn’t normal.

‘…..…..’

For just a moment she had genuinely thought she would be killed.

It wasn’t something she could easily say aloud.

‘Well then, if this is Peter’s room, the training grounds should be somewhere on the level below. I’d better hurry, or everyone will get bored.’

‘By “training”, you mean you haven’t gone yet?’

It was natural for Alice to be surprised. Since he had talked about training and the like in Alice’s room, about ten periods had already passed. Even if he was the Knight of Hearts that could get lost even within the Castle, it was too much.

‘Hahaha. I mean, this Castle really is too big. I get lost before I know it, what a pain.’

‘…..There are limits to things you know.’

At the very least he hadn’t left the Castle. If he had, since this was Ace, he probably wouldn’t have been able to return for at least ten time periods. Exasperatedly shrugging her shoulders, Alice reluctantly instructed him.

‘If I’m remembering right, you should be able to get to the training grounds if you go straight down this hallway and go down the staircase at the end. Hurry up and go already.’

‘Wow, Alice, you sure know a lot. It’s kinda like you’ve become completely used to this Castle.’

‘…..…..?’

There was nothing strange in what he was saying, but to Alice there was something that felt off about the words.

It wasn’t just Peter, Ace had also been a little different ever since the move to the Country of Clover.

Alice didn’t know him well enough to be able to point out exactly what it was, but her intuition was probably not incorrect. Although he was just as friendly as always, recently she had the feeling that he was irritated somehow.

‘You’ve become used to the Country of Clover, and Heart Castle too…..you’re really adaptable. I’m envious.’

‘Ace?’

The expression on his face was cheerful as always, but it felt as if he were being sarcastic.

Why that would be, Alice did not know.

Not responding to the questioning tone in the girl’s voice, the Knight finally backed off with a slight smile. The red eyes that had been a close distance from her a moment ago had now moved away.

‘Well, guess I’ll head on over to where my subordinates are. For my own training, it’s a bit of a worry our soldiers aren’t up to my level but…..guess it can’t be helped.’

Just as Alice was wondering whether to show him the correct route or not as she watched the Knight begin to walk off in the complete opposite direction-

‘Ah, that’s right. Alice. If you’re after Peter, he isn’t in his room.’

‘Huh?’

‘Just before…..not long after the time period changed, I saw him headed towards the garden. Hahaha, there isn’t another rabbit as unique as him in our Castle, so I knew it was him right away.’

Although, I don’t know if he’s still there now.

Leaving those words behind, Ace departed.

‘! Thank you, Ace.’

Even before he had disappeared from view, Alice had begun to descend the staircase she had just come up from.

The reason she instinctively quickened her pace was because of what the Knight had said.

She had no choice but to believe that Peter was purposely not staying in one place for too long. If she didn’t chase after him quickly, he might go someplace else yet again.

‘Peter…..’

I want to be with you forever, always, and at all times-!

That had definitely been what he had said as he tugged on her hand at Clover Tower. That he wouldn’t give over his role as guide to anyone else, that he’d be with her forever and protect her from the doors, those had been his words.

‘Don’t just say whatever you want…..and then go and leave me-‘

The bitter memories of her first love still remained within Alice.

She couldn’t believe that Peter would leave her just as he had. She didn’t want to believe it. She thought that she would be sad if she couldn’t have him close by as a friend.

He didn’t listen to what other people said at all. He immediately shot anyone he didn’t like. But for all that, it was only in the times when he was with her that the White Rabbit seemed unbelievably happy.

You are the only one…..I didn’t want to have disappear on me.

The words she couldn’t say were building up inside her chest. There was a stinging pain in her heart.

A part of her knew that it was odd to feel this way over a sudden change in a friend. But she didn’t care about the reason.

That Peter really might leave her.

Right now, that was what she was tremendously afraid of.

***

Alice left the garden—in the empty space surrounded with red roses the figure of the White Rabbit was already nowhere to be seen.

The gardens of Heart Castle were vast. So much so that just an hour wouldn’t be long enough to search them from top to bottom. She had tried asking the maids and soldiers she knew one after the after, but by the time she realized that at the very least he was no longer in this particular one, the time period had changed.

‘…..Dammit…..Where did he go-‘

She had searched for an hour, but in the end, Alice had been unable to find even so much as Peter’s shadow.

By the time she had arrived at the west garden, having been told that he had been seen there, it was completely deserted.

When she dashed to the south fountain, hearing that he was in the middle of giving instructions to the soldiers there, the soldiers were already carrying out their duties, the person in charge long gone.

Even if she had the stamina of an average person, Alice did not have the endless energy someone like Ace had to be able to continuously wander around.

Having spent so much time walking about without stopping, her legs had begun to swell. They felt too heavy for her to be trying to walk back to her guest room.

In order to recover her strength, she sat down on a bench that had been placed in the hallway.

‘Since this is Peter we’re talking about, I don’t think he would have left the Castle…..wha-!?’

Just as she was muttering to herself. Alice’s green eyes widened in an instant.

A shadow had been reflected in the large mirror at the end of the hallway. Alice definitely had a feeling she had seen a red shadow pass through the hallway she had just been walking in a moment ago.

‘It couldn’t be-…..!’

As she got up, the heaviness of her legs forgotten, she immediately began to run. She knew that it was bad manners to run inside the Castle, but right now she couldn’t afford to be polite.

Sprinting back down the hallway she had left just a few seconds ago, she looked to the left.

There—she saw the figure of a young man with long ears wearing red clothes. Perhaps not having noticed Alice, the familiar white hair was walking away at a relaxed pace.

‘Peter!’

‘-!?’

Her voice came out louder than expected as she called out, determined to stop him, but it had without a doubt reached his long ears.

Alice did not fail to notice that the white ears had twitched and trembled.

‘I want to talk to you, do you have a bit of time right now to-…..huh!?’

Whereupon an unexpected development occurred before her eyes.

‘P-Peter! Where are you going-!‘

There was no way he hadn’t heard Alice call out to him, but of all things the White Rabbit had broke into a run, continuing on in the same direction he had been headed. He hadn’t even so much as turned around.

‘W-Wait, Peter!!’

For just a moment she had frozen in place at his reaction.

Who would have thought. That the person who had always been chasing after her, would suddenly run away without even looking at her…..there was no way she could have predicted such a sight.

She chased after the White Rabbit who had panicked and begun to run, but he was faster than she was. Little by little, the distance between them grew.

‘…..-, Please wait, Peter, stop!’

Having already spent so much time searching for him, Alice was reaching the limits of her strength. Her legs seemed about to give out from under her, and even her hair was a mess.

Even so, she didn’t stop pursuing the White Rabbit she had at last found.

‘…..…..’

He was fast. The phrase “fast as a fleeing rabbit” existed, but the speed at which he ran was abnormal. Even so, perhaps she could say that it was rather impressive he didn’t bump into any of the soldiers or maids that he passed by on the way.

Alice on the other hand, sweating profusely, didn’t even have the time to apologise to the people she had run into.

Scolding her trembling legs, Alice once more raised her voice.

‘If there’s something you want to say to me, then say it-!! Don’t run away-!‘

He had to have heard her. Each time Alice’s voice echoed out, the long ears reacted slightly.

‘-!’

‘Peter!’

Don’t leave me behind.

Alice could have said the words. However, she wasn’t able to.

If she said that to him, and he still didn’t stop. If he pretended that he hadn’t heard her.

“Alice, I’m so sorry, I-….”

“I’m sorry, Alice, I’ve-….”

‘…..…..-’

It was déjà vu. It frightened her that it wouldn’t be wholly unexpected if he were to say the same sort of things as those phantom voices.

However, the White Rabbit didn’t stop running.

At this rate, it would be a matter of which happened first, Alice reaching her limits, or him making a successful escape. It would probably be both. Either way, it didn’t appear that Alice had any chance of catching Peter.

There was now no longer any trace of the girl’s usual composure. Desperately forcing her legs to move, rallying her body as it seemed on the verge of collapse, Alice was running.

She wasn’t thinking at all about what she would say once she caught up to him. By chasing him, and seeing his face—she just wanted to lessen the distance that had opened up between them, even if it was by just a little.

It might be because Alice didn’t want to accept that there was any distance she couldn’t close, no matter how she were to run and run.

‘…..Alice.’

Perhaps the White Rabbit had noticed that the girl hadn’t stopped chasing him despite her flagging strength. After turning around for just a moment, he suddenly dove into a nearby room.

Completely absorbed as she was in running, Alice didn’t have the capacity for calm decision making. The person she was chasing had gone into that room. That was the only fact her mind was able to register.

‘Peter-! I’m not letting you get away-!’

Despite being a guest, she was fairly knowledgeable when it came to the layout of the large Castle. The room he had entered was one of the guest rooms. And, although she wasn’t sure exactly which level they were on right now, at the very least she knew it wasn’t the ground one. He wouldn’t be able to escape by running outside.

Bang!

Opening the door with all her strength, Alice at last came to a stop.

‘P-Pe-…..ter…-. Wh-Where are you-…..-!?’

Her voice seemed to stick in her completely dried out throat. The metallic taste spreading throughout her mouth was probably blood that had gushed out from where capillary vessels had split. She felt awful, but right now she didn’t have the time to leisurely be drinking tea.

Still breathing hard, she looked around her, but the bright red clothes wearing White Rabbit was nowhere to be found.

‘Wh-Where…..did he…go?’

Roughly wiping away the sweat pouring down her forehead with the back of her hand, Alice looked from side to side. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. Her arms no longer had any strength left in them and felt heavy, as if they didn’t belong to her.

If he were a normal person, the number of places he could hide would be limited, but in any case, Peter had another form he could take. Just as the Gatekeepers had child and adult forms, he could change from human to rabbit form.

If Peter were in rabbit form, starting with the closet, there were an infinite number of spots that he could hide.

‘…..…..’

As to be expected of a guest room of Heart Castle. Just like the room Alice had at Hatter Mansion, it was more than big enough.

She took a general look around, underneath the tables and in all the storage spaces, but didn’t find a trace of either the white ears or the red clothes. She had made sure to close the door, so if he had left the room while Alice had been concentrating on her search, she still would have noticed straight away.

In other words, either he was still in the room or—he had gone outside using a hidden route unknown to her. It had to be one of the two.

‘If I’d known this was going to happen, I would’ve asked Vivaldi about hidden passageways-’

‘…..…..’

Perhaps because it was a noon time period, the light coming from beyond the curtain was warm and gentle. There was no obvious shadow reflected behind it.

While thinking that it couldn’t be, when she put her hand to the window, she noticed that it was unlocked.

‘Peter, are you there?’

Klack.

Opening it, she went out onto the balcony. Red roses were in full bloom in the garden below her, but the White Rabbit she was searching for was nowhere to be seen.

However, the fact that the window had been unlocked meant that someone had to have opened it. The maids of the Castle were all diligent in their work, so it wasn’t likely that they had carelessly forgotten to do it. In a situation where the enemy Mafia group might come to attack them at any time, it was impossible they would do something so negligent.

As she leaned against the balcony railing to look down on the garden below, there didn’t appear to be anyone else around.

Height-wise she was probably about three floors up. Alice certainly couldn’t see herself jumping down from this kind of height, but when it came to the physical abilities of those called role holders, her common sense didn’t apply. Peter probably would have been able to jump and land safely without any problems.

Feeling her heart rate settle down a little at last, she gave a small sigh.

‘Peter….why are you avoiding me like this?’

Before, even when she had come here to see the Queen or the Knight, he had always shown up uninvited and clung on to her.

Even when she’d told him she didn’t have any business with him and to let her go, he didn’t listen saying, ‘Alice, I love you. I love you so much-‘ again and again.

Even though back then when he’d been stuck to her like glue, he’d just been a pain, and truth be told, an annoyance.

Now, simply not having him close by was making her anxious.

Even though he had brought her to Heart Castle with such a worried look on his face.

‘…..You’re an idiot, Peter.’

Alice’s thoughts kept getting more and more negative.

Maybe he really did hate her now. No, if that was the case, considering his personality, he probably would have pointed his gun at Alice for chasing after him.

Along with a cold look in those red eyes.

Alice still didn’t know what he wanted to do, and at the same time neither did she know what she wanted to do with him.

It was just, at this very moment, she strongly felt that she wanted to see the White Rabbit. See him, and then have him smile at her, just like he always had until now.

If he had really meant the words he had repeatedly said, ‘I want to be with you forever’-

Then, she wanted to see him—right now.

‘Where are you, Peter?’

Sighing, she turned away from the balcony railing. The sky above her as she looked up at in a daze was so bright that it irritated her. Unresolved feelings still within her, it almost seemed to be laughing at her.

However, she was disillusioned with herself for thinking such a thing. To be taking out her emotions on even the weather, there were limits to how pathetic one could be.

Just at the moment she was shaking her head with self-loathing-

The girl’s long hair gently blew upwards. Surprised, she tried to hold it in place, but was unable keep all of it down.

‘…..The wind.’

Before the move, the wind rarely blew. In this world that was always good weather, rain did not fall, and there was usually not so much as a cloud in the sky.

It was very strange for the wind to be blowing like this. Remembering what the master of Hatter Mansion had said, perhaps it was an effect of the Country itself having become unstable due to the land having moved.

The wind was by no means chilly, but she had a feeling her sweat-drenched body had suddenly become much colder than before.

Just as she let go of the railing as she shivered, thinking it might be time to head back inside-

Whoosh, a stronger gust of wind than any she had ever felt before blew right at her.

‘Kyah-!’

The sudden high wind lifted her whole body. Panicked, she tried to grab hold of the railing, but exhausted as she was from all the running she had done, there was no strength left in her arms.

At the moment she realised her field of vision had tilted, Alice’s body had already been pushed out from the balcony.

‘!!’

An empty space, with nothing to tie her down.

Her apron dress billowed out, but she didn’t have the leeway to hold it down.

As her field of vision whirled round and round she saw a red garden, and a red castle. And—a blue so vast it seemed about to crush her.

Surrounded by the many different colours—she was falling towards the ground.

‘Kyaah-!?’

Body frozen, a scream spilled out from Alice’s lips. She reflexively closed her eyes.

What would happen if she fell from three floors up. It was obvious. If she was unlucky, she would die instantly, but even if luck were on her side, she wouldn’t be able to avoid serious injury. And not just that, since she had expended almost all her energy running around, she was unable to take up a proper falling stance.

Just as when she had first come to this world, it appeared that Alice and falling had a fated connection whenever Peter was involved. Although that was a fact she was not at all grateful for.

‘-‘

So that she would at least not hit her head, she hunched her shoulders, tightly curling her body in on itself. Although mid-air, she was not necessarily able to move herself into position as nimbly as she would have liked, it was better than doing nothing.

After all—Alice still hadn’t been able to say anything to him yet.

Searching, running.

Even if it meant chasing after him herself, unlike the first time she had fallen into this world.

She had to catch the running Rabbit.

‘Alice!’

‘-‘

Just as she closed her eyes against the feeling of falling, she felt she heard a strained sounding voice call out. The almost phantom-like voice came from below her.

When she opened her eyes that had been so tightly closed, she saw a white rose blooming in the red garden.

No, it wasn’t possible the red Queen would have allowed a white rose to exist in the Castle she ruled over.

‘Peter!’

The White Rabbit she had not been able to reach, despite all the time she had spent chasing after him, was now below her eyes.

Whether the reason she had unconsciously stretched out her hand was to grab hold of him, or to seek his help. That was something not even Alice knew.

‘…..-‘

The only thing she knew was that despite her expectations of a hard impact, something soft and warm had caught her up.

Landing with a loud thud, she had fallen down onto the ground. However, it did not hurt.

‘Alice, are you alright!? Ah, you’re completely covered with dirt…..A-Are you hurt anywhere, Alice?!’

Despite being considerably more dirt covered than her, pinned as he was beneath her, as usual, the White Rabbit only saw Alice.

Brushing back hair that gotten on the girl’s face with his fingers, he stared intently at her.

Red eyes that only reflected Alice in them, to the point that it was frightening.

The girl drew a breath at the depth in that gaze—and then, gripped tightly onto his clothes.

‘…..I’m not hurt. What about you, are you alright?’

‘It doesn’t matter about me-. Besides, catching you is but a trivial-…..Gwah-!?’

‘Ah, I see. Very good then.’

Smiling broadly, Alice yanked the tie Peter wore around his neck, pulling it tight.

‘Not even I would want to interrogate an injured person. But if you’re fine, looks like we might be able to have ourselves a nice chat.’

Glaring head on at the White Rabbit as he made noises as if he were finding it hard to breathe, she brought her face closer to his.

She was smiling on the surface, but on the inside, rather than relief, emotions that she had no name for had been whirling around in her chest for quite some time.

Until she’d seen Peter’s face, she’d been so anxious she couldn’t stand it. She had been afraid that he had grown tired of her and would reject her.

However, she could tell. Right now, Peter was the same as he had always been, the Rabbit who revolved his world around Alice, not caring even about his own self.

That was why, even though she’d been so anxious a moment ago, she was able to question him with her usual confidence.

‘You’ve been acting weird ever since I came to Heart Castle. What, do you hate me that much? Do you not even want to see my face, Peter?’

‘Wha-! Wh-Why would you say something so absurd!? I love you-! Has someone been telling you bad things about me-…..-Guh-!’

‘Don’t put the blame on someone else!’

Once more pulling tight the necktie she had let loose, Alice closed in on Peter, still lying on top of him.

‘You’re the one who’s been running away every time you saw my face. Even when I was having tea with Vivaldi and the others you never showed up. You were always running up to me as soon as you could, but now you don’t even want to be near me.’

‘Alice…..’

‘Well, I suppose you were always over the top with the hugging and stuff to begin with, so maybe this is only normal but…if you were going to dial it back, don’t do it so suddenly, um, that is……’

Her voice was gradually growing smaller and smaller.

As the words she was saying fully registered in her mind, Alice was able to think a bit more clearly.

Even though he’d always been persistently clinging on to her, he had suddenly become distant. Without saying why, or what he meant by it.

However—it had been Alice herself who hadn’t liked that he’d distanced himself.

What she was saying now made it seem like she’d missed him. As she realized that, her face turned bright red.

‘You’re the one that said you’d protect me forever.’

This was all strange. It shouldn’t have been this way. She was pretty much acting like a sulky child.

That she’d been lonely without him, made her feel that there had to be something wrong with her.

‘…..I’m sorry, Alice. I wasn’t avoiding you.’

‘You’re lying.’

When he saw her face, he had turned his back on her.

When she’d called out to him, he had acted aloof and walked away.

What other way could such behaviour be described, other than avoiding her?

All the same, as Alice glared at him, the White Rabbit quietly shook his head.

There was dirt on his white cheek. The Rabbit who was white as snow, had gotten a little dirty. The Rabbit who loved cleanliness more than anything, who did not taint himself with anything other than her.

‘I was just…..so happy, I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Huh?’

‘I was so happy…..I couldn’t even think.’

A dirtied face. There was a single speck of dirt on the face of the White Rabbit, who never had a single speck of dirt on him.

She wondered why she hadn’t noticed up until now that his cheeks were slightly flushed.

‘Alice,’ calling her name, Peter stretched out a hand. The white gloved hands brushed her hair back.

‘Ah.’

She felt as if her heart had skipped a beat as his fingers combed through her disheveled hair, trying to smooth it down. She was unable to take her eyes off the face in front of hers.

Seeming bashful, yet smiling as if happy, the White Rabbit continued to speak.

‘You’re here at the Castle. You did say that it was just temporary, but all the same, to be living in the same place…..I was just so happy when I thought about it…..that I grew afraid.’

‘…..…..’

‘I thought that I wanted to make you happy forever. If you are in this world, you can become happy. That was why, I was glad just to have you in this world.’

Red clothes swayed in her line of vision.

‘…..Peter.’

As he quietly pulled her close and hugged her, she became unable to see his face.

The face she had wanted to see so much was on the other side of hers. Even though she had thought that when she saw it, she would question and scold him.

She was enveloped in the warmth of his body close to hers and the sound of a ticking clock.

‘But, having you so near…..when I thought that I wanted to stay this way forever, to be even closer to you, it frightened me. Not knowing what to do to have you by my side for even just a little, I couldn’t approach you.’

A warm embrace.

There was a clear difference in the way he held her from when he had hugged her without holding back in the past.

Like he wanted to imprison her inside his arms, but was frightened, not wanting her to hate him, that was the kind of heat they had.

‘I’m a greedy rabbit, aren’t I.’

‘That’s…..not true.’

At his voice sounding as if he were giving a pained smile, Alice could only shake her head slightly.

There was nothing greedy about it at all. It was normal.

To wish for the happiness of the person you loved.

To feel as if you wanted to become a little closer to them.

The anxiety of not knowing what to do.

Alice herself had also felt similar emotions.

‘I get the same way too.’

‘…..You do?’

‘Yeah.’

Nodding yes, she closed her eyes.

—She wondered why. Whenever she was with Peter, she felt the same atmosphere as those gentle Sunday afternoons.

Her smiling sister, and the acceptance she had felt despite the feeling of disquiet she had had when with her.

When she was with him, she became conscious of the space that should have been dearer to her than anything else. Though she should have known herself that there was no longer any going back.

‘But…..if you suddenly grow distant, it makes me more anxious instead.’

She wanted to wrap her arms around his red clad back. That was what she thought, but she held herself back.

She mustn’t hug Peter back. If she did, he would respond.

Because if she embraced the White Rabbit, after that, Alice wouldn’t know what to do.

‘I told you before, that I’ll be at Heart Castle until the Assemblies are over. While I'm here, if you keep avoiding me like now, even I’d feel sad.’

Because we’re friends.

It was different from being best friends. Although it wasn’t the same, Alice was aware that the affection she felt for him was the kind you felt for the person closest to you.

But, this wasn’t love. She didn’t want to think that it was love.

She liked him, and he was important to her but—she didn’t want her feelings to become that sort of emotion.

‘Be like you were before. And I'll do the same.’

‘…..Alice…..’

‘Alright?’

Moving back a little, she put her hand to his white face. As she wiped away the dirt that was still on it, Alice smiled.

‘I’m by your side right now, aren’t I? Peter.’

She musn’t let this white and too pure Rabbit love her, who was not pure at all.

She didn’t want to dirty him. She wanted him to stay pure.

But, she did want to know what he was thinking. She wanted to know why his thinking had become cowardly, why he’d suddenly grown afraid despite clinging to her so often in the past.

Though once she did know, the things Alice could do wouldn’t amount to much. Even so, to repress her desire to know would require considerable effort on her part.

Once she found out the truth, Alice would doubtless make another mistake. That was why she forced down the anxiety and doubts she felt inside her.

‘Don’t distance yourself from me, Peter.’

That's right, if they could maintain the same distance as before, she would be fine with that.

Because if she were to get any closer to such a white being, she would surely taint him.

#heart no kuni no alice #translation #hnkna #alice in the country of clover #otome game #peter white #alice liddell

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janetbrown711 · 8 months

Text

Just a Moment Too Soon

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good”

Ao Lie has planned a very special day to spend with his beloved partner Sun Wukong and surely nothing with go awry. Especially not the burning sensation deep within his chest, that would be nonsense...

(Partly inspired by all of the stableboys art @dr-chalk posts so that's fun :P )

Ao3 Link

Ao Lie meditated peacefully in one of his family’s many, many palaces in peace– although this one was above sea level. There was a reason for that though, as he was expecting a visit from his dearest, dearest partner Sun Wukong. Just thinking about his visit made Ao Lie get a little more excited, ruining his meditation. Not that he minded of course; Wukong meant the world to him.

Slowly, the dragon prince rose to his feet, his knees trembling, but he persisted nonetheless, coming to a full stand all by himself– something that was only getting rarer and rarer these days.

Ao Lie shook his head. His dearest partner was going to visit today, he was not going to get washed up in his sorrows.

Not yet anyways…

Despite the prince’s attempts at composing himself, he still scratched at dry and itchy scales on his hands and arms as he paced the grand entrance– which was ridiculous because this was fine. It was a regular visit; Wukong would arrive and he’d get to talk about his wife and children excitedly and Wukong would talk about his ventures with Sha Wujing or Zhu Bajie or how his grand-monkeys were doing and they’d laugh and have tea and reminisce on old times and it’d be perfect and everything he dreamt of…

It would be perfect.

Another deep breath.

Ao Lie looked down at his hands, seeing how many scales he’d peeled off and sighing. Perhaps if he were in his dragon form this could be seen as him just preparing for a usual shed, but no. There was something much more sinister present and burning deep, deep, deep within his very core.

River denizens were never meant to hold fire.

Just then, there was a strong breeze that shook Ao Lie’s curtains and robes, making him laugh as he saw flashes of orange circle his palace. He raced to the window, seeing the orange flash circle the palace twice more before the creature landed on the railing of his balcony. He didn’t stay for long though, doing a backflip off before running up to the prince and embracing him tight.

“Ao Lie! It’s been too long! How’s the old place holding up? Any new nieces or nephews for me? How’s your uncle holding up? Still mad at me, right? Ah– it’s just so great to see you again,” Wukong hugged him tighter before stepping back with a big grin on his face as Ao Lie laughed.

“It’s good to see you too, Wukong, I’ve missed you,” Ao Lie chuckled, kissing the monkey’s forehead.

“R-right! Yes– it– yes, I’ve… missed you too,” Wukong blushed, which made the dragon laugh as he invited Wukong to a room with pillows and a tea tray set up for the two of them, along with assorted snacks for them to enjoy while they enjoyed the view of the gardens.

“So, how has Flower Fruit Mountain been holding up these last one hundred years?” The prince asked, pouring Wukong some tea he’d set out.

“Ah, the monkeys are doing great– lots of adventuring and trying to emulate their king, of course, but it’s also just a good time all around. The peaches have been especially ripe this century, you should really stop by to try them,” Wukong invited with a coy grin.

“Oh, you know I can’t do that, I’ve a family of rambunctious little dragons to care for,” The prince excused himself carefully.

“Oh. Right, yeah, of course– say, how many of them are there now?” Wukong ate a handful of melon seeds.

“Seven– almost eight,” Ao Lie chuckled, pouring tea for himself now. “There’s Jianwen, Zhengde, Feiyan, Zhi, Lun, Lihua, and Fuling.”

“Geez, I’m a little behind on presents aren’t I?” Wukong scratched the back of his neck.

Ao Lie chuckled. “It’s alright, I haven’t been the best at reaching out these past fifty years or so,” he shrugged as he set down the teapot.

“Hey, at least you’ve been doing better than I have since–... Sanzang,” Wukong scratched his neck.

Ao Lie winced. “You’ve been doing better though, right? After all, you actually came these last three times; you used to refuse my invitations at all until I could get Wujing and Bajie to agree to come over too.”

“Right– I have,” Wukong nodded. “Sorry, I– I still miss him sometimes.”

“We all do,” He offered his hand and the monkey took it, smiling softly, before his eyebrows pressed ever-so-slightly.

“Your… hands– is something wrong?” The monkey king looked up.

“Oh– it’s just been a particularly dry season you know; it’s hard on the skin and scales,” Ao Lie lied, taking his hand back.

“I hope it gets better soon,” Wukong finally took a sip of his tea.

“Thank you, Wukong,” He looked down at his own cup, frowning ever so slightly at his reflection before having a sip.

Relax.

“Sooo… that uncle of yours? He still mad at me or…?” Wukong decided to bring up, making the prince laugh.

“Why do you ask?” The prince chuckled, taking another sip.

“Well– call me crazy, but I was kind of missing some of my old clothes and was wondering if he had anything else similar laying around,” Wukong eyed a candied peach.

“‘Laying around?’” Ao Lie laughed. “Wukong, your clothes were one of a kind– hand sewn upon your arrival because Uncle Guang was so scared!”

“Soooo he still hates me?” Wukong put two and two together.

“I think perhaps he’s come around to the idea of you, but I have a feeling if you’d ever want to ‘pop in for a visit’ you’d need me to be there,” The prince chuckled.

“Bah, who needs that old geezer anyways?” He smirked, his tail twitching playfully.

“You know you could just pay him for the staff and clothes–”

“I don’t have the clothes anymore– why would I pay him for something I don't even own?” Wukong scoffed.

Ao Lie laughed. “You still stole them! And they were one of a kind!.”

“Ah, ‘stole’ is such a strong word, Li-Li,” Wukong shook his head and Ao Lie laughed more, having to set his cup down so he wouldn’t spill it everywhere.

“You’ve changed so much and not a bit, Wukong… it’s nice,” The prince smiled at him softly.

“Yeah, I try,” Wukong smiled too before they both looked out to the garden.

As Ao Lie watched the running water of the small stream, listening to the soft rustle of leaves from trees and other such greenery, and the splashing of koi, he felt something in his chest start to ache– to burn– but the feeling was unfortunately familiar. As carefully and quietly as he could, the prince took deep breaths to help soothe the pains.

“So I’ve told you about my family, what about yours? Oh– and what of the other pilgrims? I do wish I could invite them over more often,” The prince fiddled with the sleeves of his robe.

“Ah, well, the monkeys are doing well– generation… fifteen? Eighteen? I lost track, but either way they’re a great bunch– real adventurous, like I said before,” Wukong sat up a bit with a bit of excitement. “Some of the original adventurers returned too, and all of us swap stories and it’s– it’s just fun. And nice.”

Ao Lie tried to imagine it, and nodded with a smile. “What about Wujing and Bajie? Have you seen them at all?”

“Oh, Wujing visits a lot on his boat. I don’t know how on earth he always manages to traverse the Flaming Mountains but Wujing is Wujing,” Wukong eyed a candied peach again, which Ao Lie gestured for him to take so he popped one in his mouth. “He likes talking about his ventures and whatever heavenly parties he gets invited to that I keep ‘losing’ my invitations to,” the monkey joked about.

“Does heaven still not invite you to things?” Ao Lie asked.

“Ah, they invite me to some things, just not the Peach Festival or wine festivals, which–… yeah, fair,” Wukong laughed and grabbed another candy. “It’s basically like if I have a bad track record with a party, they won’t even pretend to invite me– though Wujing and Guanyin advocate for me on the regular, apparently.”

“That’s nice,” The dragon prince sipped his tea again. “What about Bajie?”

“Psh, that big sap,” Wukong smiled and shook his head. “He writes to me talking about his family sometimes– talks about his new wife a lot too and how she’s the most beautiful pig demon anyone could ever see– apparently he has an infant son, if I remember correctly from his last letter which was–… oh heavens, probably twenty years ago,” Wukong ran his fingers through his fur.

“Not so infant like anymore?” Ao Lie guessed.

“Probably? I’m not up to date on the whole ‘pig demon aging rates’ thing,” Wukong shrugged again. “Anyways, he writes, I sometimes write, it’s nice. We’re busy people though, so it’s… hard seeing each other.”

“He writes to me often about his family too– I had just been wondering if you'd had any luck seeing him in person,” Ao Lie confessed.

“Not since we last talked,” Wukong shrugged. “But hey– there’s always time, you know?”

Ao Lie winced, his chest pain growing, but he took a sip of tea so his guest wouldn’t notice.

Wukong sighed happily, his red eyes glowing softly in the daylight in the way Ao Lie had always admired, even when he was more than a little scared of him. It made him want to reach out, and to braid his fur into a bunch of tiny little braids while the monkey would laugh and wait for him to finish so he could do his hair and it’d be… nice.

But Ao Lie’s hands were weak. Even as he held his teacup, it trembled ever so slightly. He was also sweating like the dogs in the fields, but he was sure Wukong couldn’t tell through all the layers of silk he wore.

Wukong couldn’t notice. He was here to have a good time, a nice chat. He was not here to be reminded of a simple mistake from hundreds of years ago because that’s all that was, a mistake and a sacrifice, nothing more and nothing worse.

Wukong looked back at him and smiled. “You feeling alright?”

“Oh, Wukong, you know I’m always in the best of spirits whenever you visit,” He chuckled, scratching at his scales once again, which his partner noticed.

“I could talk to the weather gods about the dryness if you’d like– get them to get their act together for your sake,” Wukong offered, which just about made his heart melt.

“You’re a peach, Wukong,” The prince leaned and kissed his cheek. “But that isn’t necessary.”

Wukong frowned. “You’re more uncomfortable than you’re willing to tell me.”

Ao Lie blinked. “Is it a crime to not want to focus on such things with company over?” he forced a weak smile, but the burning increased with his anxiety.

“No, but you’re not supposed to be uncomfortable, unless you’re hurt– Are you? Did someone hurt you? Who? What was their name? What did they look like? I’ll find them for you, I swear–” Wukong reached for his staff but the prince quickly grabbed his arm.

“Nobody has hurt me, Wukong, I’m alright,” He mustered up the gentlest smile he could.

Wukong sighed. “I wasn’t going to kill them you know, I know better... if they’re mortal,” He mumbled.

Ao Lie stroked the monkey’s arm with his thumb. “It’s alright, Wukong, really, it is.”

Wukong frowned. “Are you sick? Some kind of–... dragon disease?”

“Moderate shedding is… to be expected around this time of year, especially when I’ve been away from the water for so long,” Ao Lie lied once more.

“Oh, why haven’t you been home?” Wukong asked, seeming to relax, which the prince was thankful for.

“Oh, you know those dusty old bureaucrats. My family don’t really fit in with them– especially the children who take after me,” He waved away.

“Look, I don’t like Ao Guang or Run or Qin or Shun as much as the next guy–”

“You just insulted my father,” The prince pointed out and Wukong’s face turned red.

“Right-! Yeah, no, Ao Run’s great! Love that guy!” Wukong quickly corrected and the prince chuckled. “Well– anyways as much as I dislike your uncles, I wouldn’t say it’s worth your health.”

“Maybe, but I’m not going while you’re here, I enjoy our talks too much to spoil it with all… that,” He struggled keeping up excuses.

“Fair enough, bureaucracy is the worst,” Wukong smiled, grabbing more candied peaches and stretching out to eat them, which Ao Lie copied.

“You know, my cousin Ao Bing and I used to love terrorizing heaven every now and then– until the whole Nezha incident, of course,” He laughed weakly.

“Man, and they didn’t banish you over any terrorizing? That’s unfair,” Wukong shook his head.

“Well I did end up destroying my father’s pearl from the Jade Emperor, which almost got me killed until Guanyin intervened, and Ao Bing got his consequences when he killed Nezha’s friend and Nezha killed him back, so I’d say it’s a little fair,” Ao Lie pointed out, playing with his hair a little.

“Ah, Guanyin… I should really visit her more often,” Wukong laughed a little, rolling onto his side and began playing with the prince’s long white hair too.

“It’d be nice to visit her. Maybe she could tell me where my sister is and why she keeps forgetting to write back,” The prince joked.

“We could plan it! You said you should be free again in… twelve years, right?” Wukong got excited.

“A-ah, um– I don’t think I’ll be free then,” Ao Lie struck down.

“What about fifteen?” The monkey offered. Again, the prince shook his head.

“I’ll think about it, Wukong.”

“Why? I thought you adored your sister,” Wukong was getting suspicious again.

“Wukong, please– let’s just enjoy each other’s company… please?” He was forced to beg, which made the monkey’s face go from anger, to confusion, to a soft smile.

“Of course. I can understand how a family like yours is complicated,” Wukong apologized and calmed himself.

“It’s alright,” Ao Lie sighed and rested on his back, which made the heat rise in a way that was hard to ignore. “I just… I hate this busyness we carry, you know? Oftentimes I envy how well and long you lounge about on that mountain of yours.”

“It’s easier when you don’t have kids or a wife,” Wukong laid on his back too.

Ao Lie glanced at him. “Do you wish you had a wife or children?”

Wukong laughed. “A wife? You kidding me? With what we have, I’ll never need a wife.”

“Ah, I’ll have to tell my missus that,” He teased.

“Oh please, what we have is different, you know that,” Wukong went back to his side.

Ao Lie chuckled. “Maybe~”

“Oh, shut up! You are such a tease!” Wukong grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it.

“Hey! This is my palace!” The prince struggled to protect himself from the pillows but also wasn’t trying that hard– laughing way too much.

Wukong hit him three more times, but as he went for a fourth, he moved the pillow last second and kissed Ao Lie on the lips, which the prince quickly returned.

“If I’m a tease, you’re a scoundrel,” The prince cupped the monkey’s cheek with his hand.

“Alright whatever– as long as you admit you’re a tease,” Wukong kissed the prince’s cheek.

Ao Lie laughed as Wukong got off of him and stood before offering a hand to help the prince to his feet, which he accepted.

However, the second the dragon prince was on his own two feet, the burning in his chest went from mild to excruciating, and quickly he fell to his knees– his hand clutching his chest in a flash as he gasped in pain.

“What the– Lie, what’s wrong?!” Wukong’s eyes darted around the room (no doubt searching for an attacker).

“I– I don’t feel so good,” The prince confessed, sweat dripping down his forehead, as the burning feeling continued to grow and grow at rates it never dared to in the past.

“You’re hurting–! What happened–?! Who did this to you??? I’ll bring them to justice, I promise–”

“Wukong, no– I-I can’t– I won’t let you– ngh–” The prince grabbed his partner’s leg and leaned against it best he could.

“Holy– You’re burning up so much I can feel it through my clothes– we need to take you underwater, and fast–”

“NO!” The prince quickly objected as Wukong scooped him up.

“I don’t care if you protest, we’re going to fix this– you’re going to be okay, okay?” Wukong was defiant and didn’t meet his eye, though the prince could see tears threatening to fall.

“N-no, Wukong, th-they’ll imprison you, th-they’ll–” Ao Lie stopped himself, but Wukong picked up what he was implying.

“Li-Li, why would they imprison me? Is it because I’d be the one bringing you? I-if so, I can get Wujing or your wife or someone– I-I can fix this,” Wukong pleaded.

“W-Wukong, this isn’t your fault– please–” The prince gripped Wukong’s shirt with trembling hands.

“Your temperature is only rising, Lie, what the fuck is going on?” Wukong pleaded with him, but the prince looked away as he curled in agony.

With a frustrated huff, Wukong set the prince down on the pillows they’d used for fighting just a happy second ago, then vanished on his cloud before returning with a bag full of chunks of ice he pressed against the prince’s forehead, though it was useless as it began to melt in seconds.

“W-Wukong please, i-it’ll pass, I promise,” he tried forcing a smile again.

“You know what this is, don’t you?!” Wukong looked angry. “Why won’t you tell me what it is? Why won’t you let me fix this?!”

“B-because you don’t need to fix anything, qin qin,” He weakly lifted his arm to tuck Wukong’s fur back.

“Don’t ‘qin qin’ me, this is serious!” Wukong protested.

Ao Lie winced, every muscle in his body beginning to feel like a flaming, aching inferno as he sweated through all of his five layers of silk.

“I-it’s not your fault, Wukong, i-it’s just mine, okay?” He gave a weak smile as droplets of sweat began to roll nonstop down his forehead.

“What are you talking about?!” Wukong shouted. “What could possibly be my–”

The monkey king froze.

“Wukong… Wukong, please–” The prince whispered, desperately trying to grab his arm, but his partner stood and began to pace the room.

“I– It– No– You’re immortal– Th-that– A-and master– A-and– it was centuries ago– i-it can't–” The monkey king’s voice cracked as his tears were finally allowed to fall.

“Wukong, stay with me, please–!”

“How long has this been going on? Since we left the Mystic Mountain??? Have you been hiding this from me for– for centuries???” Wukong turned around, furious.

“W-Wukong, please– I-I’d never–”

“You won’t even give me the chance to help you– is it because I did this? Is this your– your punishment for me?!” Wukong could barely look at him.

“Wukong, I love you–” The prince reached up again.

“W-well you shouldn’t! This is all so– so fucked up– I-I–” The monkey sobbed, falling to his knees and covering his eyes with his hands.

“Wukong, it’s not your fault! I-I chose to jump in front of master, I-I took on the burden– ngh– willingly,” He managed to grab his hand, and Wukong held it up to his cheek.

“There wouldn’t have been anything to jump in front of if it weren’t for me, it’s my fault you’re suffering– that you’re–”

Wukong’s eyes widened.

“Y…you’re–... you’re dying, Li-Li,” he gave into his sobs once more, pressing the scorching hands even closer to him.

Ao Lie weakly stroked his partner’s cheek with his thumb. “I-I… I think so too… I dreamt of this for… for a long time, but… but never was it so… so sudden… I’m so sorry, qin qin…” he apologized and explained but Wukong wasn’t listening.

“I can’t be alone, Lie– I need you– I love you so, so, so much– I can’t– I can’t lose another person because of my stupid, stupid mistakes,” he shook his head furiously.

“We don’t have a choice, my love,” Ao Lie forced a weak smile, a chill shaking his whole body so Wukong brought him into his arms, making the prince sit half up so it was easier to see and embrace his lover. “I didn’t think it’d be tonight. I-I’ve known the flame’s presence for so long, but the pain– it only grew with time a-and this past decade it’s– it’s been almost unbearable,” Ao Lie laughed through tears that sizzled and turned to steam.

“I can imagine,” Wukong laughed and cried too.

“I didn’t want it to be like this, Qin-qin– I wanted to have a nice day with the person I love. I-I’m so sorry. it isn’t your fault,” Ao Lie grabbed the monkey’s robes tight.

“It should’ve been me– it was my fault– I don’t know why I didn’t even try– I–”

“You could’ve disrupted the spell entirely, and that poor, poor baby would’ve died, don’t be foolish, my love,” The prince pointed out.

“N-no– no, you know what? I’m going to get the others! I-I’m gonna get Nezha and DBK a-and Wujing and Bajie too– w-we can fix this together! You’ll be better in no time!” Wukong smiled at Ao Lie, who just shook his head weakly– the prince finally taking notice of the crimson flames that were starting to leak from his scales.

“Master is gone, Wukong, and I’m going to have to join him,” The prince hated saying it as much as Wukong hated to hear it.

“NO! I-I don’t care what you say– I’m not losing you too,” Wukong stood in protest once again.

“W-Wukong, I’m not mad, really– I forgive you,” The prince smiled, the arm grabbing his robe beginning to shake and tremble violently as a painfully numb feeling spread through his limbs as he noticed the flames growing bigger, and parts of himtransforming to ash.

Wukong fell back to his knees, sobbing as he held Ao Lie closer. “I-I love you, Lie– please don’t go,” He could barely get words out.

“W-Wukong, I need you to promise me– promise me you’ll forgive yourself?” Ao Lie urged, watching his feet start to disappear in terror.

Wukong shook his head. “I can’t… so please– stay so I don’t have to,” He tried wiping away some of Ao Lie’s sweat, but the heat was getting intense even for him.

“T-the fire– i-it won’t die with me– It’ll be passed down– Wukong– Wukong please protect them– my baby– th-they’ll carry the fourth ring– make sure no one knows, o-okay? Protect my kin, don’t let anything bad happen to them, okay?” Ao Lie attempted a second promise.

“Wh-what? A fourth–? There wasn’t supposed to be– oh Lie, I’m so sorry,” Wukong apologized again for the millionth time and held Ao Lie in a way that he could bury his head into his shoulder.

“I-it’s okay, Wukong, i-it’s okay, I forgive you, o-okay? So don’t hate yourself– it’s okay,” His voice cracked weakly.

Wukong sniffled, shaking his head a bit. “I… I can’t–”

“Wukong… I’m dying. I’m sorry, but I-I am,” He smiled weakly again. “I love you so much– but I’m going… promise me you’ll be okay, okay? And that you’ll take care, a-and– and you won’t forget me, okay?” The prince chuckled weakly, trying to lift his arm again, but his fingers were fading too.

“I could never forget you, Li-Li, y-you’re my everything,” it was Wukong’s turn to stroke his cheek, and the prince kissed his hand.

“I’m sorry it had to end like this, my love– but that’s– that’s just how it goes sometimes, isn’t it?” He let out a weak laugh as numbness spread through his legs.

“I-it’s okay– I f-forgive you too,” Wukong struggled repeating his words back to him, but the prince smiled.

“Good,” The dying dragon smiled and Wukong suddenly kissed him, which the prince quickly returned twice as passionately and desperately, feeling the numbness complete take over, despite his desperation to stay in that moment forever.

But he didn’t get a choice, and in a matter of moments Ao Lie, Third Son of the Dragon King of the West Sea, was dead and gone.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #stableboys shipping #ao lie lmk #sun wukong lmk #my fics #major character death #fluff and angst #i'm addicted to emotional whiplash send help #everyone thank doctor chalk for inspiring me #their shit is amazingggggggggggggggg #anyways bone apple tea #whumptober #whumptober 2023

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7grandmel · 2 months

Text

Todays rip: 10/04/2024

The World Ends With PSY

Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 7: Part mm2wood

Ripped by Metalik

youtube

Hey, it's the 10th of April - 10/4, like the 104 building! I couldn't resist!

Here's a fun fact for you: Long before I was running this blog, I was making a certain other SiIvaGunner project, and through working on it decided to reach out to the SiIvaGunner channel head, MtH of Bigger at Night (Chung Yard) fame, for the first time ever. So what was one of the first-ever things I directly told someone from the SiIvaGunner team? "Make more The World Ends With You rips". Yes, I was young(er) and stupid(er), awkward and strange, and I of course now know that good rips come to those who make them, but the sentiment holds true even today. The World Ends With You's soundtrack still means EVERYTHING to me. And, well, though we don't have many rips to go around for the game, I will continue to cherish the ones we do have: because as far back as Season 1, there have been absolute bangers within out small selection.

Now, if you've followed SiIvaGunner for any amount of time, you know about the joke of The World Ends With PSY already. It's PSY, the K-Pop legend, the man behind Gangnam Style, Gentleman and so many more hits, and perhaps more importantly, a YTPMV celebrity. He's had annual days of celebration on SiIvaGunner, one of which I covered back with One Winged PSYcho - V.S. Sepsyrop, and rippers have continued to find all kinds of creative ways to utilize the man's distinct sound, including the sentence-mixing marvel of Korean Idiot. Those two rips are still the only PSY-specific I've covered on here, but they lay a pretty concise groundwork, particularly the former: Most PSY rips made for SiIva utilize PSY's "eyys" and "ops" for truly next-level YTPMV-tier postings, the kind that you'll also hear in big meme medley rips like ULTRA S+G. Yet, that kind of makes The World Ends With PSY a neat novelty, in a way: in the days of Season 1 before PSY's presence on the channel was so clearly decided, one Metalik made a PSY rip that goes against the pattern all three prior mentioned rips follow.

Rather than usurping Calling's instrumentation with leads made up purely of PSY's immaculate soundscape, The World Ends With PSY is a no-nonsense mashup, between PSY's Daddy and the aforementioned game track. Calling as a song is defined by the contrast between its noisy electronic backing and its beautiful vocals, like a light trying to shine through the darkness - The World Ends With PSY, then, is as if more noise is added to that blend, with pieces of Daddy's instrumental persisting throughout the track as PSY's own vocals alternate in and out with the original vocalist. It's a really interesting mashup - PSY's always prominent within it, yet the original beauty of Calling's vocals never feel as if they're drowned out, just framed within such a different kind of noisiness. To cut a long yap short - it bangs!! It isn't the kind of vocal/instrumental mashup that wholly changes the track's tone a la My Dr. Eggman Can't Be This Evil!, but it undoubtedly IS different, yet different in a way that highlights the strengths of both tracks used.

And yes, this is a Season 1 rip nonetheless, I can certainly hear some slight cracks in the facade at points - but The World Ends With PSY remains my favorite rip the game has gotten in all of these years. Compared to some other efforts made earlier in the season, such as Three Minutes Clapping literally just being what the track name says, or Deja Vu just switching to the titular Eurobeat song at the chorus' end - funny gags for sure, but none quite feeling like a loveletter to The World Ends With You in the way I've long wanted. We've gotten a sprinkling of rips of the game since, but it was The World Ends With PSY that I first connected with all those years ago - the rip that reassured me that the game's soundtrack is still remembered and cherished by others aboard the team.

#todays siivagunner #season 1 #siivagunner #siiva #Metalik #the world ends with you #twewy #neo twewy #ntwewy #neku sakuraba #shiki misaki #twewy beat #twewy neku #kingdom hearts #gangnam style #psy #kpop

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roobylavender · 10 months

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(Really long ask ahead i’m sorry!) I think your thoughts on dick and his similarities vs differences to bruce are so interesting! Personally i’m wondering how much of NTT played an influence on this kind of characterization bc i’ve never fully finished ntt but i read like nearly all the pre-80s batman 1940 issues lol and dick very much was portrayed as more idealistic than bruce in some ways while more no-nonsense (? For lack of better word) in other ways, like when it comes to batman easing up a little on selina for romance reasons LOL. Though ofc dick totally turns into - well, a dick - in team books, as i grow older i find myself far more compelled by a potential story of an 18 yr old who seemed to have the whole weight of the world on his shoulders (by his own perception) and breaking under his own impractically strong sense of duty and sky-high expectations for others, then realizing as he grows older that it doesn’t have to be that way esp after seeing the perspectives of characters like kory, wally, joey, roy, etc. Like personally as someone who never really had a huge interest in NTT anyway, i’m surprised at how desperately people want to hold on to the characterization of dick when he was 18-19 and never letting him grow past that, like it’s so difficult for me to believe that at age 25 he would be the same uptight controlling kid that he was at 19. Maybe i’m biased though bc i was like one of those insufferable INTJ internet stereotypes as a teenager, and while that worldview did bring me achievements i’m proud of like the fact that i’m in med school rn studying what i love, i still know that at age 22 i have changed SO much from when i was 18 and i can’t imagine any reasonably mature or normally-functioning person (let alone someone high-functioning like dick) not doing the same lol. Especially since dick is the kind of person who would literally die if he’s not constantly growing and evolving past his faults bc of his insufferable perfectionism, idk how he’d be willfully blind to the negative effects of his worldview in early NTT and refuse to grow from there. He even has a quote that’s like “i’ve spent years as a student of my own behavior” which i always found highly encouraging bc i know he really does want to improve himself even at his worst. It reminds me of that Marcus Aurelius quote: “if someone can prove me wrong and show me my mistake in any thought or action, i shall gladly change. I seek the truth, which never harmed anyone; the harm is to persist in one’s own self-deception and ignorance.” But what are your thoughts? (Thank you for reading all this 🥹)

oh i absolutely agree! i cannot tell you how many times i think about the person i was a couple years ago and who i am now like i cringe so much omg.. maturity is an ever persistent process even if we don't recognize its effects immediately and it absolutely is crazy to think that anyone would remain in such a static state of mind for several years on end. esp when like you said dick is someone who wants to be better! so despite his several hypocrisies it is nonetheless in his best interests to look internally and analyze and evolve. and i feel like that very much could have happened had there been any actual segue between dick's breakup with kory and his re-entry into the batfam. i don't think there was much of a connection between these two sets of writers at all and so what you got is what felt like two very distinct parts of dick's life that didn't necessarily reveal a bridge point. so it's not entirely unrealistic that dick may grow to be the person (at least to some extent) that bat canon portrayed him to be in the years that followed but i certainly think as it stands it felt unearned and like all of his issues explored in ntt were conveniently swept to the side without any semblance of closure (albeit i do think some of these issues are addressed in outsiders '03 but in that dickheaded way that winick explores things generally. so i'm not sure it's the kind of closure people actually want). it's very sad and ig that's what people cling to more than anything. it's not that they're opposed to him growing to be a better person but that they're opposed to a version of dick who feels like he sprung out of nothing

#ironically enough i Do think dick going back to gotham after the kory breakup made sense #like when something that big happens in your life what are you going to do. seek the advice of the one person you look up to more than anyt #ing right. but marv wolfman complicated things by writing bruce the way he did so rather than bruce playing an active part #in guiding dick through some of his issues and mistakes he instead became dick's burden to bear through extensive post knightfall trauma #and i mean you all know i Love knightfall. i really do it gives me brainworms upon brainworms #but i wish there had been just one moment. like after it was all over. that bruce and dick actually got to talk and like #discuss dick's problems yknow #i get the feeling they didn't delve much when writing prodigal bc they had to set up the next arcs and stuff but it's like #come on. come on. they could've afforded it. if dick really had to come back to gotham for a temporary stint where he tried to find himself #than a proper conversation with bruce about what he was going through should have been a part of that #bc i do think working with bruce's new cavalry of three teen heroes (tim / steph / cass) would have borne wonderful opportunities #for dick to grow as a leader and peer considering his ridiculous expectations of others and how this would measure up against teenagers #but the problem is that bat canon decided he was going to magically gel with everyone bc he was emotionally more well adjusted than bruce #was. like ok. ok. whateverrrrrrrr #like idk it's so funny they were given a dick with a plethora of issues and instead of using any of that ammo they were like nah #we're going to make our lives harder and give him new problems manifested out of thin air. totally makes sense. bullseye #outbox

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littlemochix17 · 5 months

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Chapter 11

Words: 17.3K

Malfoy was taken aback when he saw that Harry, (Y/n), and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, despite looking worn out but nonetheless content. The trio appeared to be exhilarated by their encounter with the three-headed dog and were eager to embark on another adventure. Harry provided Ron and (Y/n) with a detailed account of the package that had been relocated from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they devoted a significant amount of time to speculate about its contents, given the heavy security measures surrounding it.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

"I heard Dumbledore was a very powerful wizard maybe that's why they brought it here so he can protect it," said (Y/n) to the boys

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. (Y/n) was doing her best to avoid Hermione's persistent efforts to drag her away from her friends. While she didn't mind it too much last night, she was starting to feel increasingly annoyed by the brunette's behavior. It seemed like Hermione was always trying to separate her from the group, and (Y/n) was beginning to wonder why.

All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, well it's more of the boys than the girl, she couldn't care less they always discuss it way too really in the morning and she was just sleepy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky because it said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody to know you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight at the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously.

"I've never even touched one."

"Oh trust me I am more than thankful that I didn't touch one either" (Y/n) trembled at the mere idea of soaring through the air on a slender broomstick, far above the safety of solid ground.

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall, they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face.

"Oh wow we really wouldn't have known if it wasn't for your nosey self middling in our business" (Y/n) let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes in frustration at the blonde standing in front of her. She was feeling particularly drained today and had no tolerance for his nonsensical behavior.

"You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." The boy paid no attention to her and continued to sneer at Harry, his eyes narrowed with contempt and his lips curled into a disdainful sneer.

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said,

"it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry.

"Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back.

"I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys and girl?" he squeaked.

"Potters have been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry.

"Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

As Harry, (Y/n), and Ron ascended the staircase, they couldn't help but suppress their laughter at the sight of Malfoy's intense fury and bewilderment. The air was thick with tension, but the trio couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction as they left their rival behind.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase,

"If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

With an air of superiority, Hermione turned and made her way down the hall, her nose held high. As she walked away, she reached out and grabbed the hand of the girl with (H/c) hair, pulling her along with her. The girl stumbled after Hermione, clearly struggling to keep up with her brisk pace.

"Honestly (Y/n) you would only get in trouble if you keep joining these two boys" As the (E/c) eyed girl gave them an apologetic look, they realized that it was the last thing they would hear from her before the other girl dragged her away through the halls. The scene left an indelible impression on their mind, as they wondered what was happening and why the girl was being taken away so suddenly.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

They were eager to unwrap the broom together, but they couldn't wait for (Y/n) to join them. Hermione, in particular, had been keeping the girl occupied all day, persuading her to stay with her instead. She argued that it would be safer for her to stay away from the boys and their potentially reckless activities, as it could result in their house losing valuable points. Despite this, the others were too impatient to wait any longer and decided to open the package without (Y/n).

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. He'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling he swooped in and out of the goalposts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant ... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood.

"Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood.

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited.

"So that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper. I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all.

"And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?"

He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood.

"Take this."

He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said.

"These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose and sent it zigzagging away into the air it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely.

"The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team, the Weasley twins are ours, it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goalposts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er- have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping

he sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers-"

"-unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"This," said Wood,

"is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep."

"Well, that's it any questions?"

Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

As the classes came to an end, Y/n was relieved to have escaped Hermione's clutches. She was eager to catch up with Harry and wish him luck for his first Quidditch practice with Wood. However, she noticed that it was already too late for that, and she found herself standing by the black lake. Cedric had instructed her to meet him there, but she was surprised to find him engaged in conversation with a boy with striking greenish-grey eyes. Y/n couldn't help but wonder what they were discussing.

"Hey Ced, Regulus" As she approached, a warm smile graced her face and she cheerfully greeted the two older boys, who seemed pleased to see her.

"(Y/n)! You made it" Cedric approached the young girl with a warm smile, his steps light and gentle. As he drew closer, she turned to face him, and he opened his arms wide to envelop her in a warm embrace. She hugged him back tightly, and a sense of comfort and safety washed over her.

"Of course, I am sorry I didn't write to you one of my dorm mates wouldn't leave me alone for one second," As she spoke, she let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes, causing the other two to respond with a small chuckle.

"Sounds like you have a fan," Regulus observed the girl in front of him, noticing the way she had just scoffed - a mixture of irritation and disbelief etched on her face.

"What fan dragges you anywhere and everywhere she goes just so she makes sure you won't lose more points for your own house" The girl's remark caught Cedric's attention, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter. However, the expression on the girl's face showed her annoyance, as if she hadn't intended to be funny.

"Maybe she just doesn't want you to get in trouble," The brunette said.

"Well she does half a special way in showing it" Regulus snickers

"Oh shut up when did you get sorted anyway? I thought all first years got sorted at the start of the year" Asked the younger girl before sitting in the empty space beside him on the ground Cedric followed her sitting at her other side

"My sorting was... well... different I got sorted into Slytherin privately before first years in Professor Dumbledore's office," he said rubbing the back of his neck

"Why?" Cedric's voice peeped into their conversation also curious to know

"My Aunt Genevieve asked for my sorting to be private I don't know why thought she didn't do that when I was at Beauxbatons" As the boy sat said to his friends, he took a moment to reminisce about his time at Beauxbatons. Despite not having many friends, he cherished the memories of his stay in France. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness as he thought of someone special whom he missed dearly. This feeling brought to mind the sorting ceremony at Beauxbatons, which he found quite intriguing. In fact, he felt that the sorting process at Beauxbatons was much more fascinating than the one at Hogwarts.

As Madam Maxime calls his name, he walks across the stage and stops in front of a small table. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, he notices a shimmering silver bow and arrow placed on the table. His hands tremble as he picks them up and holds them in front of him. He pulls the string back to his cheek and takes a deep breath before releasing it from his sweaty fingers. With a sense of wonder, he watches as the silver arrow glides effortlessly across the room, leaving a trail of white sparks in its wake. It's a moment of pure magic, as the room comes alive with energy and anticipation. The arrow bursts into blue sparks just before hitting the wall, signaling that he has been placed in OmbreLune.

The young boy's face lit up with amusement as he reminisced about the past event. He let out a hearty chuckle, clearly enjoying the memory. He expressed his opinion that the sorting ceremony at Hogwarts lacked excitement in comparison to the one at Beauxbatons, hinting at the possibility of a more enchanting and captivating experience.

Ombrelune is well known for cunning, logic, ambition, and curiosity. The house colour is grey and the house is symbolized by a sinister-looking moon. The members of this house are very often those that prescribe to the concept of "the end justifies the means", as they can be manipulative and cunning. They are very cool and calculating students who are very adverse to irrationality and prize people for making well-thought-out and logical decisions. Most Ombrelune students are cold and rarely display emotion openly unless they see some direct gain in doing so. They are in the most ambitious of the Beauxbatons houses. They are very smart, logical, and structured. They are very curious and interested in the world and the intricate way it works. Ombrelune students often strive for power and perfection more than anything else. Cunning, logic, ambition, and curiosity. These are all traits that members of OmbreLune possess. They are very smart and aim for perfection.

House colours: Grey, blue House symbol: Moon

"So what was your house when you were at Beauxbatons?" Asked the girl

"I was in OmbreLune which is like being in Slytherin and Ravenclaw at the same time" (Y/n) nodded at his answer

"Well I got to go I have Quidditch practice tomorrow morning" Regulus stated

"You're on the Quidditch team?" Asked Cedric

"Yeah they needed a seeker and I passed tryouts" smirked the second-year boy

"Be ready Diggory because next Hufflepuff vs Slytherin match I am gonna kick your arse"

"Haha as if you can" Cedric rolled his eyes making (Y/n) giggle softly at the two boys before Regulus bedded his goodbyes and left

Cedric turned to (Y/n) smiling brightly

"So? How's Hogwarts so far" he asked

"Perfect" she replied smiling up at the brunette

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.

As the class began, Professor Flitwick assigned pairs to practice. Harry found himself partnered with Seamus Finnigan, a fellow Gryffindor, much to his relief. Neville, who had been trying to get Harry's attention, was instead paired with (Y/n). Despite this, Harry was still pleased to be with Seamus, as they had gotten along well. Ron, on the other hand, was paired with Hermione Granger, and neither of them seemed happy about it. The tension was palpable between them, as Hermione had not spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual.

"Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f ' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harry found the spell to be incredibly challenging, which made him question the effectiveness of the professor's teaching methods. However, (Y/n) was able to teach the group a more advanced spell with ease, leaving Harry impressed. (Y/n) was actively encouraging Neville to give it a go, while Ron, sitting at the table next to them, seemed to be struggling with the spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"No, stop stop you're going to take someone's eye out" Snapped Hermione

"Besides you're saying it wrong, It's Levi-o-sa, not Levi-o-sar."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

"Go on, go on"

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping.

"Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop.

"Wingardium leviosa!"

Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it Harry had to put it out with his hat.

"I think we're gonna need another feather over here Professor," Harry said

"It's Levi-o-sa, not Levi-o-sar! no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry and (Y/n) as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor,

"And why does she always drag (Y/n)? it's starting to get annoying she's a nightmare, honestly."

As Harry was silent while (Y/n) just shrugged, lost in his thoughts, suddenly he felt a sudden jolt on his shoulder. He turned to see who it was and saw Hermione rushing past him, her eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down her face. Harry's heart sank as saw her

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable.

"She must've noticed she's got no friends."

"Ron!"

"What don't tell me you're starting to feel bad for her" he raised an eyebrow at the girl

"I mean she is annoying but still you shouldn't have said that" The girl squinted her eyes, fixing her gaze on the redhead with a disapproving expression. The redhead, in response, rolled his eyes, as if he was familiar with such a reaction from her.

"Whatever let's go"

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon.

As Harry, (Y/n), and Ron made their way down the dimly lit corridor towards the Great Hall for the highly anticipated Halloween feast, they were startled by the sound of Parvati Patil's voice. They paused, curious to hear what she was saying. They overheard Parvati telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and that she wanted to be left alone. Ron looked particularly uncomfortable at this news, and (Y/n) noticed it immediately. She glared at him, wondering if he might have had something to do with Hermione's distress. However, the moment they entered the Great Hall, they were immediately distracted by the stunning decorations. The ceiling was enchanted to look like a starry night sky, and there were pumpkins and candles placed on every table. They were all so mesmerized by the decorations that they forgot about Hermione for a while.

The great hall was filled with a thousand fluttering bats which were hanging from the walls and ceiling. Another thousand of them were swooping over the tables in low black clouds, causing the candles in the pumpkins to flicker. Suddenly, the feast appeared on the golden plates, just like it did during the start-of-term banquet.

As Harry was serving himself a baked potato, Professor Quirrell entered the hall in a state of panic. His turban was askew, and his face was filled with terror. All eyes were on him as he ran towards Professor Dumbledore's chair. He slumped against the table, gasping for air, leaving everyone in the hall bewildered and anxious. "Troll! In the dungeons! thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron.

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

"I don't really think peeves would do something that could harm students physically," said (Y/n)

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm and (Y/n)'s hand

"I've just thought Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She is at the girls' bathroom alone you idiot," said (Y/n)

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, him and (Y/n) pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered.

"Something is not right"

"Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me."

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Harry and (Y/n) sniffed and caught a whiff of a foul stench, a combination of old socks and an unclean public toilet. Suddenly, they heard a low grunting sound and the shuffling of giant feet. Ron pointed to the end of a passage on the left, and they saw something huge moving towards them. They quickly hid in the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. What they saw was a terrifying sight. The creature was twelve feet tall and had dull, granite-grey skin. Its body was like a boulder, with a small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs that were as thick as tree trunks, with flat and dry feet. The smell emanating from it was overpowering. The creature held a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll stopped next to a doorway, peered inside, waggled its long ears, made up its tiny mind, and then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered.

"We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

"Yeah but we have to be careful"

As they inched closer to the open doorway, their hearts pounding with trepidation, the group prayed that the troll was not lurking behind it. Suddenly, Harry summoned all his courage and made a daring leap, snatching the key from its perch just in time. With a swift motion, he slammed the door shut and locked it, feeling a momentary sense of relief wash over him.

"Yes!"

Flushed with the excitement of their hard-won victory, they eagerly ran back up the dimly lit passage, elated and filled with a sense of triumph. However, as they neared the sharp bend in the corridor, their sense of jubilation was abruptly silenced by a piercing and petrifying scream that echoed through the stone walls. The scream was coming from the chamber they had just chained up, and it was so high-pitched and stricken with terror that it gripped their hearts in a vice-like hold, making them freeze in their tracks.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.

"Shit" (Y/n) cursed under her breath

"Hermione!" they said together.

As much as they dreaded the idea, they knew they had to act fast. They spun around and dashed towards the door, hearts pounding with fear and adrenaline. The key trembled in Harry's hand as he tried to unlock the door, his fingers fumbling with anxiety. Finally, his determination paid off and the door creaked open, allowing them to dart inside.

Inside the restroom, Hermione Granger was cowering against the far wall, her face contorted with terror and eyes wide with fright. The troll was stomping closer and closer, its massive frame shaking the walls and shattering the porcelain sinks like they were mere toys.

"Confuse it!" With desperation in his voice, Harry implored Ron for help, his eyes locked on the massive, lumbering troll that stood before them. In a sudden move, he seized a nearby tap and hurled it against the wall with all the strength he could muster. The troll paused and turned its head, its beady eyes scanning the area for the source of the noise. It spotted Harry and hesitated for a moment, before raising its club and advancing towards him.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) quickly assessed the situation and rushed over to Hermione, pulling her away from the troll as far as possible. The troll, its attention now fixed on Harry, seemed to have forgotten about the two girls for the time being.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" In a moment of chaos, Harry was frantically yelling at Hermione and (Y/n) to move towards the door. But Hermione was unable to move and was still flat against the wall, her mouth wide open with terror. (Y/n) was trying to snap her out of it, but the shouting and echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

In a desperate attempt to save his friend, Harry took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. Despite the troll's massive size, Harry clung on for dear life and managed to insert his wand up one of the troll's nostrils, causing it to howl in pain and confusion.

The troll twisted and flailed its club, trying to get rid of Harry, who was still clinging on tightly. Hermione had sunk to the floor, unable to move, while (Y/n) screamed Harry's name, trying to think of anything she could do to help her friend. Ron, who was also terrified, pulled out his own wand and cried out the first spell that came to his mind, hoping it would be enough to save Harry:

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, and rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got up from the ground, his body trembling with fear and exhaustion. Ron stood still, his wand still raised, staring at the troll he had just defeated. Meanwhile, (Y/n) pulled Hermione towards the two boys, hugging them all tightly out of relief. She muttered about how reckless it was of Harry to jump at the troll, causing Ron to grin and Harry to chuckle slightly. Harry hugged her back tightly to reassure her that he was unharmed. Hermione looked at her three friends with sadness and sighed, thinking that Ron was right. If only she wasn't so annoying, maybe the three of them would have befriended her already. She tried not to dwell on it and spoke up to catch their attention, wanting to move on from the tense situation they had just been in.

"Is it dead?"

"I hope so I don't want to have another troll fight right now" grimaced (Y/n)

"I don't think so," said Harry,

"I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

"Urgh- troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall came bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air.

"You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down while (Y/n) just closed her eyes hissing as she knows that they're doomed that's for sure.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I-I thought I could deal with it on my own- you know because I've read all about them."

(Y/n)'s jaw dropped as well as Ron's wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club while (Y/n) had pulled me away from it before it attacked me. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry, (Y/n) and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them,

"Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall.

"I'm very disappointed in you." Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, (Y/n) and Ron.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted looking at Hermione.

"Mind you, we did save her." That made (Y/n) elbow him and glare in his direction

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him, and the (H/c) head girl nodded.

"And if you hadn't insulted her," the (H/c) head girl said crossing her arms at him

"What are friends for yeah?" He said smiling at the other girl who smiled as well

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," they said and entered.

The common room was abuzz with activity, filled with students chatting, laughing, and enjoying the feast that had been delivered. In the midst of the crowd stood Hermione, feeling out of place and somewhat embarrassed. As she looked around, she saw the others eyeing her curiously, unsure of what to say. Then, in a sudden burst of relief, they all mumbled a quick "Thanks" and hurried off to grab their plates. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, Hermione was grateful to have been acknowledged. It was then that she realized that she had made new friends. For her, it was a turning point - a moment when she felt like she had finally found her place at Hogwarts. And as she reflected on the events of that day, she knew that there was something special about the bond that they had formed. It was a connection that went beyond words, something that could only be forged through shared experiences. And defeating a twelve-foot mountain troll was definitely one of them.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake was like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress. It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her and (Y/n), what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. Hermione had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Harry learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking the rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it she also apologized to the three for always trying to separate (Y/n) from the other two. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape.

"Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

"Someone got his knickers in a twist"

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway while (Y/n) told them she was going to feed her owl (and NItor) and be right back.

Harry felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it just as the (H/c) girl got down from her dorm.

"Better you than me," they said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if other teachers were listening.

"Where are you going?" asked the girl

"I am going to Snap to return the book," said Harry

"Do you want me to come with you?" (Y/n) offered to accompany Harry, and as he looked at her, a smile spread across his face. He felt a warm flutter in his chest as he appreciated the care she showed for him. Even though he now had Ron and Hermione by his side, there was something special about (Y/n)'s support. Perhaps it was the fact that they had known each other for years before they were both accepted into Hogwarts. Whatever the reason, Harry was grateful for her.

Despite her offer, Harry declined, assuring her that he would be okay on his own. As he spoke, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at turning down her kind offer. Nevertheless, he knew that he had to handle Snape alone. He promised her that he would return soon, and with that, he set off, his thoughts lingering on (Y/n) and the bond they shared.

He made his way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside and a horrible scene met his eyes.

Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying.

"How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but -

"POTTER!"

Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."

"GET OUT! OUT!"

Harry left before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. He sprinted back upstairs.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined them. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly.

"He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"No he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron.

"I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"I agree too it seems quite weird that Snap got injured while coming back from the third fooler," said (Y/n)

"Maybe he did try to get past the dog when we were trying to fight that troll"

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours but the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Harry felt terrible. In an hour he'd be walking onto the field.

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan.

"Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," Harry watched Seamus pile heaps of ketchup on his sausages, his stomach churning with unease. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but he knew he needed to eat something before the match today. Suddenly, he felt a warm hand on his own, and he turned to see (Y/n) sitting beside him. Her friendly smile put him at ease, and he felt a sense of comfort he hadn't felt since he woke up and remembered his first match was today.

Before he could say anything, (Y/n) placed a plate of his favorite Treacle Tart in front of him, the sweet aroma wafting up to meet his nose.

"If you don't feel like eating breakfast, you can have this. I know it's not breakfast, but it'll give you some energy for the match today. Plus, I know you can't refuse a treacle tart," she chuckled softly.

Harry couldn't help but smile at her thoughtfulness, taking the plate gratefully. As he took a bite, he felt a wave of warmth spread through him, and he felt more relaxed than he had in days. Ron, Hermione, and Seamus watched in surprise as Harry's demeanor shifted, his shoulders relaxing and his face softening.

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to Harry. He felt grateful to have such caring friends, and he knew that, no matter what happened today, he had people he could count on.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean in the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean and (Y/n), who were good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed.

"This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry,

"We were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood.

"This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve- back to Johnson and no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes Flint flying like an eagle up there he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and- OUCH that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger Quaffle taken by the Slytherins that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes, she's really flying , dodges a speeding Bludger the goalposts are ahead come on, now, Angelina Keeper Bletchley dives- misses- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor's cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Ron,(Y/n) and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck,

"But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron.

"Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said.

"We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop the- loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying,

"Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the- wait a moment. was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement, he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Regulus had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was slightly faster than Regulus he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead he put on an extra spurt of speed- WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared again. Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling,

"Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously.

"In soccer, you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked, Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating- "

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that. It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goalposts, he had half a mind to ask Wood to call a time-out, and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession- Flint with the Quaffle- passes Spinnet- passes Bell- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose- only joking, Professor- Slytherins score- oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars.

"If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have...."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except for powerful Dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced while (Y/n) couldn't take her eyes off Harry worried he might fall any minute.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape look!"

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something. jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row. Snape would never know what had happened. It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back onto his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was soaring through the air on his broomstick, his eyes fixed on the tiny, fluttering Snitch as it darted back and forth. Suddenly, he started to descend rapidly towards the ground. The crowd gasped as they saw him clutching his mouth as if he was about to be sick. Even after his broomstick stopped jerking, (Y/n) couldn't help but worry about him. She held her breath and watched anxiously as Harry hit the ground on all fours, coughing violently. Then, to her relief, something glittering and golden fell into his hand. Harry's face lit up with excitement as he shouted,

"I've got the Snitch!" and triumphantly waved it above his head. The game ended in a frenzy of confusion and cheers from the crowd.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining,

"Seriously why would he do that did Harry steal his girlfriend from him or something?" (Y/n) said earning a snort from Ron

"Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands.

"Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid.

"He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah he's mine bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly.

"That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again.

"Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly.

"Hagrid you said it yourself a kid couldn't possibly make his broom do that and you confirmed that it must have been some kind of dark magic" the other girl stated

"I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" said Harry,

"so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class,

"for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Harry was busy measuring out the powdered spine of a lionfish while Draco Malfoy, accompanied by his lackeys Crabbe and Goyle, was trying to get under his skin. Malfoy had been particularly unpleasant since the Quidditch match, where Harry had outperformed his house. Frustrated by the loss, Malfoy tried to make the other students laugh by mocking Harry's skills. When that didn't work, he resorted to taunting Harry about his background, something he knew Harry was sensitive about.

Harry, however, was determined not to let Malfoy's comments get the better of him. He was excited about spending Christmas at Hogwarts with his friends, including Ron and his brothers who were also staying back. Harry knew that this Christmas would be different from previous ones, which he had spent with his unpleasant relatives at Privet Drive.

(Y/n), who was also in the class, was not going back home for Christmas either. She was glaring at Malfoy, who noticed her and turned to her with a smirk on his face.

"What do you think you're doing glaring at me like that, you twat?" he said, trying to provoke her. (Y/n) replied with a scowl,

"I'm hoping you'll spontaneously combust." Malfoy's smirk disappeared, and he scoffed before turning away with Crabbe and Goyle which made the girl smirk.

As they left the Potions class, they encountered a large fir tree blocking the corridor. Harry and his friends heard a loud puffing sound and realized that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree.

"Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back,

"one of these days, I'll get him-"

"I hate them both," said Harry,

"Malfoy and Snape."

"Don't worry boys someday we will hit them so hard they won't know what hit them"

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid.

"Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the three of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me. Harry, Ron, (Y/n) we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall.

"Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly.

"Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is." (Y/n) sighed and mentally face palmed at her friend's stupidity

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here. I've told yeh. drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added.

"We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere just give us a hint I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione and (Y/n) took out a list of subjects and titles they had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," said Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to. Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron, (Y/n) and Hermione joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione.

"And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said, Ron.

"It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione, and then she left to pack the rest of her things.

The conversation between three first-year Hogwarts students was suddenly interrupted by a cheerful voice calling out to one of them. Looking up, the trio saw the Slytherin and Hufflepuff seekers approaching them. Cedric Diggory and Regulus Black had come to bid farewell to their friend, (Y/n), before heading home for the holidays. To the surprise of Harry and Ron, the girl seemed to be on friendly terms with the Slytherin boy. Despite Ron's prejudice, Harry felt oddly uncomfortable around Regulus. The older boy turned to Harry and asked if he was the Gryffindor seeker, but instead of insulting him for winning the match against him, he praised him for giving him a good challenge. (Y/n) confirmed that Harry was indeed the seeker, and Cedric continued to praise him for his skills on the field. The two first-years were surprised to see the friendly side of a Slytherin, a house known for its cunning and ambition. Harry and Ron felt awkward and remained silent until Cedric and Regulus bid farewell to (Y/n) and promised to keep in touch with her during the holidays.

"You're friends with a Slytherin?!" Ron hissed making (Y/n) turn to him and shrugged

"Not all of them like Malfoy you know," she said before taking her leave not wanting to hear the boys complain about her other friendships

Once the holidays had started, (Y/n), Ron, and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork bread, English muffins, marshmallows, and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which was fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Ron also started teaching Harry and (Y/n) wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family, in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing.

"Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

As the chess game progressed, (Y/n) expressed her desire to join in. The chessmen on the board tried to protest but (Y/n) silenced them, revealing her past experience of playing Muggle chess with Mrs. Figg. Ron was surprised to hear this, unaware of her skills. The game was incredibly intense, and both (Y/n) and Ron were deeply focused. It was the final round, and the score was tied at one win each. Harry couldn't help but observe Ron's growing nervousness, as he was determined not to let (Y/n) win this game. However, (Y/n) was equally determined and didn't give up easily. When it was her turn, she made her final move with precision and smirked at her red-haired friends. "Check Mate," she announced triumphantly. Ron groaned at his loss, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the outcome of the game played by his two best friends.

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.

"You, too," said Harry.

"Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's. Before they opened their presents they heard a knock on the door which turned out to be (Y/n) who wanted to open her gifts with the boys. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it. it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Harry.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"Weird!" he said, "What a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, him and (Y/n) laughing at how pleased Ron was.

"Hagrid and my aunt and uncle so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you both didn't expect any presents and- oh, no," he groaned,

"she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"I think I have one too" (Y/n) beamed pulling a (F/c) with her first initial and wearing it over her pjs

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own,

"and mine's always maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next present also contained candy a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

With excitement in her eyes, (Y/n) eagerly unwrapped the remaining gifts. She found some chocolate frogs from Ron, which she knew she would enjoy later. Hermione gifted her with an art sketch, which she appreciated deeply. The pair of gold butterfly earrings from Cedric caught her attention and made her heart flutter. However, the most surprising gift came from Regulus - a gold butterfly bracelet similar to the earrings. The matching set made her feel special and brought a smile to her face.

Suddenly, she heard Harry clearing his throat and turned to face him. She noticed the small box in his hands, and her heart began to race with anticipation.

"Cedric and Regulus owled me and told me that they wanted to surprise you with a matching set of jewelry, and I thought it was just right to join them as well," he said nervously.

She opened the box to find a small gold ring, which was perfect in her eyes. Harry's insecurity was evident as he asked,

"So, er, do yo-" but he was cut off by her embracing him tightly.

"I love it!" she exclaimed, feeling grateful for the thoughtful gift and Harry was relieved that he had managed to pull it off.

Harry took the small box out of her hand and opened it tenderly, revealing a delicate ring inside. The girl standing before him held out her hand, and he took it, placing the ring on her finger. A bright smile lit up her face as she gazed down at the ring. (at least he was the one to put a ring on her finger;) ok I will stop now T-T) Meanwhile, Ron was munching on some Muggle candy that (Y/n) had given him, muttering under his breath, "Friend my arse," but neither of them paid him any attention.

(Y/n) came back to reality and walked over to the gift she had brought for Harry. She handed it to him, and he quickly unwrapped it to reveal a magical camera. Looking at the girl beside him, he said, "I noticed how fascinated you were by the moving pictures here, so I thought I'd get you one so you can capture every memory we make before leaving Hogwarts." A smile spread across her face, and Harry thanked her warmly.

This only left one for each of Harry and (Y/n). Harry picked his up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione.

"If that's what I think it is they're really rare and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch like water is woven into the material.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face.

"A what now?" (Y/n) asked but Ron ignored her question

"I'm sure it is try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

"Woah!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly.

"A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said.

"Anything. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look! (Y/n) and Harry got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater.

"She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded.

"Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed.

"I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid we know we're called Gred and Forge," he said making the only girl there chuckle

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving.

He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even these two got one."

"I. don't. want-" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses off.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George.

"Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. (Y/n) and Harry had never in all their lives had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce, and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry and (Y/n) watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs Norris's Christmas dinner.

(Y/n), Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke into his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much as (Y/n) was taking a warm shower so he couldn't ask for her help.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor Tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge. It had been Harry's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it.

Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it. His father's... this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

Use it well.

Suddenly, Harry felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something held him back, his father's cloak, he felt that this time (the first time ) he wanted to use it alone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open. A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence. the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backwards and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside. stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library. Restricted Section."

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied,

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him the cloak didn't stop him from being solid. He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

His panic faded now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but seeing no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror trick that reflected them, invisible or not? He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she were really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air. She and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes-

"Her eyes are just like mine"

Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, and even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees. Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered,

"I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

(Y/n) was in her cozy dorm room, getting ready to sleep when something caught her eye. It was the wrapped gift she had forgotten to open earlier in the day. The gift was wrapped flawlessly, with neat creases and a brightly colored ribbon tied into a perfect bow. (Y/n) couldn't resist the urge to open it, so she retrieved the gift and sat down on her comfortable bed. As she began to unravel the wrapping paper, she heard a hiss beside her. She looked down and saw Nitor, the snake she had let out from his hiding place earlier, watching her curiously.

"What issss thissss?" he asked, his head swaying back and forth as he studied the gift.

"I don't know yet. Why don't we see?" (Y/n) replied with a smile, feeling a sense of excitement building up inside her. As she continued to unwrap the gift, she found a perfectly crafted box of jewelry.

"More jewelry?" she questioned, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She opened the box and found a note that looked eerily similar to the one Harry received with his cloak.

"What doessss it ssssay?" asked the snake, who was still studying the gift.

"It says, 'This was your mother's. Be careful with it and don't see too much.' What does that even mean?" (Y/n) muttered, feeling a sense of unease creeping up on her.

As she looked back into the box, she saw a beautiful red heart necklace nestled inside. She carefully picked it up and put it around her neck.

"What do you think?" she asked the snake, who looked unimpressed.

"That's weird. Maybe it's like a locket or something. It has to be opened o-" Suddenly, (Y/n) felt as if her whole body was on fire, and her vision started to change. She could only see red as she heard a woman's voice screaming, "You picked the wrong side, Peter!" Then she woke up, gasping for air, with Nitor beside her.

As she struggled for air, she frantically tore the necklace from her neck. Once she sat upright, she patted her pet, Nitor, to assure him that she was okay.

"I'm fine, don't worry," she managed to gasp out, still catching her breath. After a few minutes, she lay on her bed, with Nitor curled up next to her, sound asleep. She gazed at the necklace lying on her nightstand, with a furrowed brow. Her fingers traced the delicate chain that had encircled her neck moments ago.

'Don't see too much'

"How strange," she murmured, before turning away from the necklace. Unbeknownst to her, the necklace's brilliant crimson hue seemed to radiate light throughout the room, illuminating everything in its path. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts were consumed with the vivid images the necklace had revealed to her...

"You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly as (Y/n) didn't say anything her mind was thinking about last night's incident.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror. both of you." that made (Y/n) snap back to the boys' conversation

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said and (Y/n) nodded eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone maybe we can see (Y/n)'s parents as well."

"You can see them any old time," said Ron.

"Just come round my house this summer. Ginny has already invited (Y/n) so both of you could come Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"

Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Snape stole it, really?

"Are you all right?" said Ron.

"You look odd both of you actually (Y/n) you have been silent for a while are alright?."

"Yeah I am don't worry Ron"(Y/n) gave him a small smile, but the expression on her face told him that something was wrong. He could sense her exhaustion, but he didn't want to make things worse by prying. He decided to give her some space and not press her to talk about what was bothering her.

What Harry feared most was that he might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron and (Y/n) covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," said Ron.

"Let's forget it and go back."

"No!" Harry hissed.

"I know it's here somewhere."

"Stop fighting both of you"

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here. just here- yes!"

They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him.

"See?" Harry whispered.

"I can't see anything."

"Me neither"

"Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them..."

"I can only see you," Ron said and (Y/n) nodded

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Harry stepped aside, but with (Y/n) in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family anymore, just (Y/n) in her pajamas.

The two boys leaned in curiously and asked the girl, "So, what do you see?" She lifted her gaze up to the mirror and found herself staring at a stunning woman with curly red locks that cascaded down her waist. The woman's striking (E/c) eyes seemed to bore into hers as she examined her reflection. The girl's eyes widened in confusion as she wondered if the woman was her mother. Her gaze then shifted to the woman's neck, where she spotted a familiar necklace, the one she had received on Christmas. The girl's heart raced as she remembered the events of the previous night. She stepped back from the mirror and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Harry asked her, "What did you see?" She whispered, "Nothing." Harry was about to ask again when Ron intervened, placing a hand on his shoulder and gesturing for him to back off. Ron then walked over to where the girl was standing next to her in silence.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?"

"No. I'm alone- but I'm different I look older and- I'm Head Boy!"

"What?"

"I am- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to- and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup I'm Quidditch Captain, too!" Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Harry.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead- let me have another look-"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me-" "Both of you sto-"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Quick!"

Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron and Harry stood quite still, both thinking the same thing- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

And Ron pulled Harry and (Y/n) out of the room. The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

"No... you go..."

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione."

"I'm serious, Harry, don't go ever since we went there something wrong happened to (Y/n) she doesn't want to get out of her dorm maybe you should go see her I know she would listen to you."

But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him he could cheek on (Y/n) some other time.

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all. Except-

"So back again, Harry?"

Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror that he hadn't noticed him.

"I- I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry,

"You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It- well- it shows me, my family- "

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy," Dumbledore said but he didn't mention what did the (E/c) eyed girl see knowing she wouldn't want him to tell her friends

"How did you know- ?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently.

"Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Harry shook his head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Harry thought. Then he said slowly,

"It shows us what we want... whatever we want ..."

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly.

"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry stood up.

"Sir- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled.

"You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore.

"Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.

#fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #original character #oc #x reader #fred weasley #george weasley #Spotify

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mibeau · 10 months

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[Book Review] 🧕Vol. 2: Muslim Woman’s Participation in Social Life🧕

🧮 Score: 3.8/5.0 . "To sum up, social meeting between men and women entails that they look at each other. This is perfectly alright, as long as they behave decently, not gazing hard at each other or coupling their gaze with desire." - page 50.

■ This book is a part of the abridged version of Abd al-Halim Abu Shuqqah’s eight-volume series, originally published in Arabic, titled: “ Tahrir al-Mar’ah fi ‘Asr al-Risalah”. The cases he presented and discussed are sourced mainly from Saheeh al-Bukhari and Saheeh Muslim. His work provides a nuanced perspective on Muslim women’s issues. . ■ In this volume, the author presented insightful cases on mixed social life as the pattern in the early Muslim society book that sheds light on the multifaceted roles and contributions of Muslim women during the Prophet’s lifetime, challenging stereotypes and misconceptions. It covers topics on ibadah, works, minglings and more. He stressed on the importance of women’s participation in wider fields in shaping their communities and building nations.

■ He addressed many common “misogyny” practices or biases that persist in our culture. It is refreshing and comforting seeing the author point out the nonsensical stances that have been made to appear “religious” while having no reflection on the Sunnah, frankly speaking.

I really like and always am reminded of a hadith that tells the incident where Saidina Umar and Lady Asma argued about who has a better claim to Rasulullah regarding their hijrah. The way she stood up for herself is beautiful. :) Cos we know from seerah, people usually “fear” Saidina Umar. . ■ Nonetheless, the author still emphasises Islamic principles regarding modesty and appropriate conduct at all times. In a few cases, he repeated the hadiths, but explain them from different perspectives and touching different issues. Although, there are a few issues discussed that can be controversial and still up for scholarly debate, wallahualam.

■ I appreciate the author's efforts, may Allah swt has mercy on his soul. I encouraged my fellow sisters to read all the volumes in this series. So far, so good, alhamdulillah. A recommended book for quick references and understanding of Muslim women’s issues. . ---- ● Buy a preloved copy here: https://carousell.app.link/tT6bGIQLpCb . ● Buy new copies here: https://www.imanshoppe.com/products/the-muslim-womans-participation-in-social-life-volume-2-by-abd-al-halim-abu-shuqqah?ref=ICHAMICHA

#book review #islamic book #contemporary hadith scholar #kube publishing #ichamicha #carousell #Malaysia #imanshoppe #muslim women #women empowerment #hadith study

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never-took-a-lesson · 1 year

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Still in a fog from the nagging body cramps, Cogsworth headed to the big sitting room to try and get some reprieve. He hardly noticed that Antoine, Forte’s first student who no longer really went by his old nickname “Fife”, was also there. Antoine was on the couch he claimed for himself, splayed out lazily with a magazine a couple feet from his face.

The forever-teen lifted his head when he heard the older man hiss under his breath in discomfort before he let himself fall into a chair. Antoine watched for a while in concern. At first he assumed Cogsworth might have just been sore just because he was older, but then he noticed him absently pick at his protruding fangs.

“I know exactly how you feel, sir…”

Jolting slightly upon realizing he wasn’t alone in the room, Cogsworth found Antoine now leaning up and staring at him with intent amber eyes.

Cogsworth forced a curt chuckle, waving a hand in dismissal as he said, “What are you talking about? I’m alright.”

But Antoine’s mouth formed into a thin line and he persisted, “No. Look, I know I’m probably just some dumb kid to you, but I was turned too. I can tell you don’t feel good.”

His determination faded into a look of pity when he waited for some time, past the point of awkwardness, and realized he wouldn’t get a reaction.

“It really hurts bad, huh?” Antoine said miserably.

He was responded to with a long sigh. Honestly, the two didn’t know each other well. They were both Forte’s family, but they didn’t see each other as closely associated. Antoine really wanted Cogsworth to like him. He would have loved to have another dad. Or just, a dad. In all honesty, Cogsworth intimidated the younger man. Antoine never got out of seeing him as an authority figure, whereas Forte’s authority in his mind dulled more and more as time went on and Antoine was able to see Forte for the depressed wreck he really was. Cogsworth though? Yes, he could be humorous at times, but he was no nonsense and he took control properly more often than Forte did. He may have been retired, technically, but the portly man was still as much the head of household as he ever was.

Nonetheless, Antoine bit back on his nerves, ever hungry to be helpful.

“Hey, it’s alright. You held out way longer than me,” Antoine offered, a crooked gap-toothed smile desperately growing, “You’re really strong, you know that?”

With his fingers digging into his temples, the other man finally responded, but his voice was distant, “You’re talking as if it’s inevitable.”

Antoine fidgeted, his eyes taking on a knowing kind of guilt.

“Maestro Forte was right there with me on my first hunt. We’ve had our tiffs but… he was there for me then,” Antoine said, pulling his eyes away to wander aimlessly around the room, “I felt so safe, even though at the time I felt like what I was doing was unspeakable. I’ve accepted now that I’m not a human anymore. It’s not right for me to suffer endless starvation. It’s not right for you either.”

His eyes quickly shifted to Cogsworth, seeing he hadn’t spurred much of a response. Self consciously, he put a hand to the back of his skinny neck.

Antoine just kept talking, “I always wanted the Maestro to be my father. I still do. When I had my first hunt, it was like he really was my father. We related to each other so strongly at that moment… it was like we were family.”

He looked back again, even though his gaze wasn’t being returned.

As the older man was staring into nothing, Antoine tried again to make him feel better about what was to come, “He really loves you, you know. He’ll be there for you too. We can be a family. Together.”

#ic #event: itching teeth #i already had this one basically written #i just needed to add some action text #side character: cogsworth #side character: fife #v: modern #tw: starvation #tw: death

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oaimniynaug · 5 months

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Processing this Singapore trip, professionally and personally

January 20, 2024

For the first time in recent years, as I've reflected and shared, I don't necessarily have to make big life decisions or make big moves (e.g., being on the job market, packing and moving across different states). Professionally, that means more time and space to think and continue figuring out my priorities. Personally, that means making sense of my relationship with my parents and with Martin, and how the three of them relate to each other.

This is also a psychological dumping ground before I arrange for my therapy session.

Professionally

At least for 2024 (I don't want to think or project too far in advance), I am able to balance both my jobs at the university and the part-time, consulting one in Singapore. In fact, if my first proper teaching semester goes well, in terms of not being too busy and overwhelmed, I could negotiate for a higher compensation in exchange for a little more work related to organisational learning and professional development with the team, which I genuinely enjoy.

At the university, there's not much to worry about. Administratively, I am making a good start, establishing good relationships and slowly finding my place in the MSW programme. Academically, I know my projects and priorities, and along as I establish a good writing and data analysis routine for myself I don't have to worry at all about data collection and doing new projects - for the time being. In terms of teaching, there is a heavier load initially, but I'm not particularly fussed or challenged. Again, having some simple routine and getting familiar with it should be the constructive way forward.

At the Singapore job, my time in Singapore - and especially the retreat - has been energising, and structurally I also have much more clarity over my roles and responsibilities. I don't how long I will stay in this position beyond 2024, but I can do well with what I have and move from there.

At some point in the (near) future, with so much of my professional work based in and/or wound up in Singapore, I have to figure out my relationship with the country. What does Singapore mean to be? What does the US mean to me? And what will both countries mean to me in the future?

Personally

I am very, very secure in my relationship with Martin.

Socially and friendship-wise, I am also happy with my relationships and how I've approached them.

I suspect the biggest relationship(s) I'd have to figure out is the one with my parents. I suppose from a more naïve perspective, my expectation was that: (a) I've only let them in about my sexuality two years ago; (b) They've not made an extremely big fuss; (c) They were willing to engage somewhat in the topic over the phone, after a few moments; (d) They saw Martin for a week in Los Angeles, and it was very memorable for me/us; and (e) My/our trip back to Singapore was managed more fairly, and we had even planned an additional trip to Johor Bahru together (as well as a dinner together).

However, as I reflected, the Johor Bahru trip wasn't as pleasant as the Los Angeles one, and I think Martin is generally right about the hypotheses explaining my parents' (especially my mother's) apprehension and fears? I want to give my parents more time, though at the same time it's not fair to subject Martin through such awkwardness, even if we think ground one point five is progress nonetheless.

A few other things about my parents, but more about my mother, on the evening before I flew off. First, she pursued the notion of me giving them a monthly parental allowance ($500), to which I acquiesced. It's been a perennial, persistent topic she's brought up, even more so now that I have settled the NUS nonsense and have two jobs. And so it felt like something to get out of the way. Second, she seemed eager for me to be back as soon as possible, like back in Singapore in two years? I don't think she can fathom seeing me living away from Singapore for the longest term, and in that vein that's perhaps another expectation I have to manage, moving ahead. It's not that I would not like to be in Singapore for a stint, but even if that happens I want to be doing that on my/our terms, not theirs. Third, she seemed especially sentimental, saying that she'll miss me dearly and miss my hugs. I'm wondering if I'm reading too much into things, yet overall these are expressions she's always had (maybe with more intensity this time around).

The final interesting observation is that I've been telling my friends that, it feels like my parents are reaching the point of realisation that they ought to lead their best lives without me, or without centring me. The events involving Martin and my mother's seemingly emotional intervention makes me wonder: Are my observations of them accurate, or am I projecting what I hope they can do prematurely? What kind/type of relationship would I want with them? What is it that I truly desire and want? What is the steady state, or are we meant to lumber from year to year, situation to situation?

#gay #life

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edvardsen88doherty · 2 years

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Deevyfiction - Chapter 18 - Teaching The Tutor A Lesson quirky thumb read-p2

Brilliantfiction She Becomes Glamorous After The Engagement Annulment read - Chapter 18 - Teaching The Tutor A Lesson mixed sock read-p2 Novel-She Becomes Glamorous After The Engagement Annulment-She Becomes Glamorous After The Engagement Annulment Chapter 18 - Teaching The Tutor A Lesson tested aback Even though Cherry thought about being with her daddy, he needed to deal with the vicious teacher now. It had been just as how Mommy would also blindfold her and let her know to number sheep whenever she fought others whenever they had been offshore. Pete had been a hard to clean child and try to journeyed against him. He often produced him so upset that he or she almost want to offer him a good thrashing. Despite that, he persisted to consider that this was really a period that most common young children experienced. It was subsequently all his fault. Cherry stretched out her very little forearms and hugged her fine father. "Everything is going to be fine when you can understand your problems and switch over the new leaf, Daddy!" Her conversation was very in keeping with what an exemplary teacher would say. Nonetheless, even he himself was mad, let alone Justin who obtained always enjoyed and doted on Pete. It turned out just that his method of expressing it wasn't quite proper. The forthcoming landscape was too bloody and unsuitable for young children. Mommy's so smooth and gentle. She Becomes Glamorous After The Engagement Annulment Cherry was overwhelmed. She disliked having to do research probably the most! Support, Pete! The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly The tutor was shocked by his immediate wrath. Justin was usually very well-mannered directly to them, which produced her overlook how domineering anyone Justin really was. Wouldn't his id to be a child be uncovered if she were to bathe him? Which was, until eventually that occurrence past week… Justin was consumed aback. He appeared lower suddenly to see his boy looking up at him trustingly. His little, childish speech created what he was quoted saying upcoming sound particularly heartbreaking: "Am I really very mindless and dull? Have Mommy reduce the standard of Daddy's genes?" Which had been, till that accident last week… the substitute bride is adored by the clumsy margrave Her conversation was very in keeping with what an exemplary teacher would say. The trainer was consumed aback. At the view of how afraid his son searched, Justin didn't afford the coach a way to reveal any longer. He bought, "Bring her out, Lawrence!" Honore de Balzac, His Life and Writings Justin sighed. Then, he was quoted saying severely, "We won't indulge any more instructors. I'll personally educate you on later on." Granny asserted that it had been because the child didn't have got a mom and therefore, had no sense of stability. They mustn't have him, a developed male, taking care of him any more, so she got organized for babysitters, friends and family medical professionals, and trainers for him. Was this really that little dimwit who didn't communicate?! It was all his fault. In the doorstep, the tutor's legs journeyed limp the prompt she noticed Justin's murderous atmosphere and anger. She stated fearfully, "End spouting nonsense, Pete—" Cherry hid behind Justin and hugged his lower body. She caught up out her tongue for the tutor and mentioned, "Remember to don't reach me once again. I'm sorry!" In the view of methods afraid his boy appeared, Justin didn't supply the tutor to be able to make clear nowadays. He required, "Take her out, Lawrence!" Justin's anger washed out a little and then he reported, "Give her an additional half a year's wages." Was this really that little dimwit who didn't communicate?! The gentle lips pressed against his brow, creating Pete to lock up. However while doing so, a feeling of anticipations also arose in him. Within the talk about, Lawrence's go lowered even further. He resolved, "They reprimanded him simply by making him endure, reaching his palms, and reprimanding him. Also, they didn't train him really. They didn't dare to perform any sort of actual misuse more serious than that since they were also scared that someone would find out what was happening." Her eye shone after she spoke. The instructor was astonished by his sudden wrath. Justin was usually very well-mannered in their mind, which produced her ignore how domineering anyone Justin really was.

#ull #stolen night rebec

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humbums-inatrenchcoat · 2 years

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~6 months and 8 sessions later, we’re nowhere near the character class reveal (which is fine!) but im absolutely LOSING it. one of my friends has already shared their whole backstory privately with me, in glorious and delightfully thought-out detail. another is hinting at their character eventually having a reveal of similar scale to mine, at the moment i suspect they’re a different species??? but only time will tell, and i respect that! anyway im going absolutely bonkers i want to tell everyone so bad but also i need to remember how much more it will HIT when its a surprise. and i dont know if the stars will EVER align this well for me again, bc not only is it the best system for this in terms of spell lists but its also a system that 4/5 of us arent familiar with so nobody’s going to catch that ‘hey, the cleric has 1 more spell slot than he should!’ or anything like that!! so i know i just need to hunker down and be patient but also hrrnhngnrgn he’s a sorcerer......

ive even been so careful not to cultivate a sense that something’s amiss with him, leaning into the ‘yeah he’s just some guy, literally normalest of the party’ angle, so nobody’s really even been on the speculation train abt him...which is good! i dont want anyone to suspect! but also GOD can we talk about my cleric ive been dyin to talk about my cleric-

#posting here again bc most of my other blogs are in the awareness of one or more players and im cautious #rotating this guy in my mind 24/7 i spent my first two hours at work doing bean tasks and thinking abt him #i'd even be thrilled to talk abt his religion with folks (which definitely isnt a secret!) but ive never really...been in this situation ;v;#like having a character in a campaign where EVERYONE is equally thrilled abt them and we're all on casual terms outside of the game #i try and make sure im talking to the others abt theirs (certainly listening patiently to whatever they want to share!!!)#making observations and sharing stuff i noticed abt them every few sessions #but im not. used. to talking abt my own guys #and im always hit by the sense that anything more than 2 sentences is Too Much and they'll be sick of it etc etc #nonsensical i know but. persistent nonetheless :(

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reigenhusband · 3 years

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Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?"

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing.

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?"

The blonde twitched.

"W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire.

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure."

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones.

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it.

Maybe he really was scared.

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here.

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever?

Was he really going to cut it as a husband?

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him.

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?"

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last.

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited.

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important."

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance.

"I really believe you'll take care of each other."

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it.

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one."

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!"

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?"

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with.

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!"

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this.

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully.

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear.

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?"

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach.

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety.

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!"

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time.

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!"

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever."

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!"

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!"

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort. "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?"

"Good at what, exactly?"

"Being married."

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant.

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really."

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league."

"Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?"

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with."

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?"

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either.

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off."

I'm annoying??? That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it?

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief.

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in.

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain."

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off.

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say.

But he came through when it mattered.

"Hey Dimple?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Thanks."

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time."

He stood and dusted himself off.

"Welp. Here goes everything."

#i only have access to mobile so the format for everything is so ugly but HIIII ITS MARRIAGE TIME #i wanna write a fic of the actual wedding or what it entails later.#thanks for letting me be cringe #to any non selfship blogs that might be seeing this i am so sorry #I'll show the rings i had made later!!!#wedding mentions

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avenisacult · 2 years

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Bore da! Sut mae'ch diwrnod wedi bod, fy'n pobl rhyfedd?

Good morning! How's your day been, my strange people?

Why am I here? What is my purpose? Chances are, if you found this blog, you probably follow some of the relevant tags, and you might already be feeling offended. What the hell, you might be thinking, this is no more a cult than being trans! You must be a TERF!

First off, trust me, I'm a trans man. I'm a gay trans man. I'm well aware of TERF ideology, and I'm about as anti-TERF as a guy like myself can be. I'm in my early 40s, and I came of age when Kate Bornstein —who's been out as a bisexual non-binary trans woman since about 1991— was a staple on the pro-trans side of the talk show circuit in the 1990s. I've got some strong and nuanced opinions about the trans and non-binary community: While I do think the WPATH is there for a good reason, I also accept that people are going to do whatever. I'm all for affirming gender variant teens, but I also know that, as someone who masked his own dysphoria from overwhelming parents, there's always going to be the possibility that some gender non-conforming kid or another will feel like they have to swing their pendulum hard in the other direction to make their parents happy —but also, either way, that's more about the parents than the trans community. (As an aside, yes, I know that the Right-Wing hyperbole around the Younger case has been thoroughly de-bunked.) Needless to say, I'm not a TERF, I find their ideology deplorable, and frankly, they're also a cult, and if you want to know more about how they do, in fact, operate as a cult, another YouTuber broke that down pretty thoroughly, and as of the time I'm writing this, isn't even finished on that subject!

Secondly, in spite of regularly seeing accusations from the on-line asexual community, I have yet to see literally ANY evidence that TERF's have a significant "anti-asexual" sentiment amongst their ranks. No, vague claims of such from the on-line asexual community is not evidence of anything more than the willingness to believe something is true, simply because someone else from the on-line asexual community said that it is. In fact, let's use this as this blog's first example of how the on-line asexual community engages in the cult goals of Thought Control and Emotional Control, traits outlined by the BITE Model of cult identification, and put it in the category of a Level 1 Cult, alongside Q-Anon followers, and even TERF's, as outlined by the Cult Gradient.

First off, as the on-line asexual community loves to point out, "just cos someone on the Internet thinks 'demisexual is just normal human sexuality' (or similar) doesn't mean that it is!" so wouldn't it then stand to reason that just cos another person in the "ace spectrum" community says a thing is true, that wouldn't necessarily mean that it IS true? Unfortunately, for the aces, so many people involved in that community are eager to accept that anything another ace says, thus necessarily IS true, especially if it supports the idea that those who identify as somehow "asexual" are being uniquely oppressed. It's considered a textbook cult belief, that the group is being actively persecuted, without any clear evidence of the alleged persecution, or at least if the perceived persecution is not unique to the group —for instance, the Waco compound was not singled out for their bizarre religious beliefs, but they piqued the interest of the federal government due to legal infractions that applied to literally everyone. In spite of the fact that no-one can point to anything on TERF blogs and Facebook groups that would single out asexuals, nonetheless, this belief persists within the on-line asexual community.

Furthermore, the idea that a significant number of TERF's necessarily would put forth anti-asexual sentiments is literally nonsense. TERF ideology rests on the notion that trans women are "predatory men who want to symbolically and even literally rape women," and as an afterthought, that trans men are "poor women who've been taught to hate themselves by the patriarchy." TERF ideology was first formally outlined in Janice Raymond's book, The Transsexual Empire, first published in 1979. Some followers of TERFism completely miss the bizarre satirical angle of The S.C.U.M. Manifesto, by the notable schizoaffective-disordered Valerie Solanas, and claim that pamphlet to be a part of their legacy, as well —but here's the funny thing: The S.C.U.M. Manifesto is very easily arguable as a part of asexual community history!

Siggy, author of the blog, The Asexual Agenda, wrote a multi-piece series on "Asexuality and Early Radical Feminism," which I really do recommend everyone read all parts of! For starters, it debunks the popular (in the asexual community) notion that a cerain 1969 photograph was necessarily linking "asexuals" with what would come to be known as the LGBTQ community (of course, looking at the fact that the poster behind the people, in the photo, also listed "straight" should be enough for people to debunk that cockamamie claim, but here we are...) More importantly, Siggy's series does a thorough deep-dive into the links between an asexual identity and radical feminism.

Now, if you're on Tumblr, you're probably kind of young, which is fine. I was once young, myself. I have a lot of young friends (and also a long distance situation with a young man about twelve years my senior [yes, senior], so zip it with any cries of moral panic). What I want to point out, though, is that if you're young, or just inexperienced, you are probably less likely to be familiar with the fact that there are two schools of thought that lay claim to the title of Radical Feminism, and I'm a firm believer in separation of TERFism or the "gender critical" cult from Radical Feminism.

TERFism is something I, at least once referred to as the Daly-Raymond or Daly-Raymond-Budapest School, after Mary Daly, her protégé, Janice Raymond, and Dianic witch Zsuzsana Budapest. I mentioned Raymond earlier, and her 1979 book. What I didn't mention, until just now, is that her book was originally her doctoral thesis and was overseen by her then-professor, Mary Daly. Daly is often regarded as a pagan author, and was at one time regarded fairly highly in the pagan community, but even by the 1970s, other professionals in her field of women's studies and anthropology, were finding issues with her own ideas, as she relied heavily upon Murrayism. Zsuzsana Budapest is another pagan figure, and is best known as the one who founded the primary lineage of Dianic Witchcraft, practiced today. Budapest's Witchcraft is heavily reliant on not only Murrayism, but also the works of Mary Daly, especially Gyn-Ecology, which is just as much of a foundational work of Dianic Witchcraft as Charles Godfrey Leyland's Aradia: Gospel of the Witches (which is... a relatively modern mythology, formed from a composite of sources). The Daly-Raymond-Budapest school of "radical feminism" essentialises the experience of womanhood on the same principles womanhood is seen in "radical traditionalism," being that a woman's identity is defined as one's ability to give birth, and this somehow informs everything that happens to women.

The other group laying claim to the moniker of "radical feminism" is the Firestone-Dworkin-MacKinnon school. Shulamith Firestone (who was also diagnosed as being on the schizoaffective spectrum) is the author of The Dialectic of Sex, wherein she proposed a possible future wherein widespread practice of artificial wombs, thus removing the necessity of "biological sex" to the process of human reproduction, and thus assurance of a true equality of the sexes. Andrea Dworkin, a contemporary of Firestone's, built from the underlying thesis of Firestone's book, and went on to write that the notion of only two discrete biological sexes is outdated (something that has, recently, been confirmed by science, but seemed pseudo-scientific when she wrote it in 1971!) and that all trans people deserve access to gender-affirming medical care as a basic public service. Catherine MacKinnon, a friend and philosophical protégé of Dworkin's, has since become one of the most outspoken and eloquent advocates for trans women within a radical feminist framework. Needless to say, the position of the Firestone-Dworkin-MacKinnon school of radical feminist thought couldn't be any more different from the Daly-Raymond-Budapest school, especially when concerning the topic of trans people.

TERFism is basically the Daly-Raymond-Budapest school of "radical traditional womanhood" with the paganism removed. TERFism is thus less about the individual experiences of women (and men) and how gender was constructed as a means of social control, and more about a Right-Wing fatalism that insists on a pre-determined role being the presumed nature of all women, and the inverse and opposite role determining the nature of men.

Given that TERFism thus posits the notion that inside all men, which they believe trans women are, is a barely-contained sexual deviant, and thus trans women (again, according to TERFism) are hoping for a way to have an "in" to sexually abuse (cis) women. This certainly seems to take a tip from the anti-sex sentiment within the paragraphs of The SCUM Manifesto, along with taking the most superficial, at best, and overall bad-faith reads of Andrea Dworkin used to mischaracterise her work as "anti-sex, believing that all heterosexual sex is rape" (she never actually said that; what she did say was that heterosexual sex, within the context of pornography and other forms of sex work, is inherently violent, and that this has a ripple effect on society). It's not at all uncommon for outspoken TERF's to mischaracturise Dworkin, for their own purposes, and dipshits like (noted fake goth) Cathy Brennan and Sheila Jeffries are noted as being highly, and quite willful in their ignorance of Dworkin's pro-trans stance, instead preferring to twist a poor-faith read of her works critical of pornography and sex-work as "anti-sex," so as to distort her anti-porn thesis into something oddly against trans women.

Needless to say, the way that TERFism cherry-picks anti-porn ideas, and reads them as being (somehow) fundamentally both anti-man and anti-sex, certainly gives Absolute Zero reason to believe that TERFism has a significant thread that's at all "anti-asexual." If you understand what both Radical Feminism (the Firestone-Dworkin-MacKinnon school), and TERFism (the Daly-Raymond-Budapest school) actually are, and what each group stands for and hopes to see in society, the very idea that "TERF's also hate asexuals" is complete nonsense! It's an idea that can be traced to the "asexual spectrum" community on Tumblr, with no real origin from outside of that community —as in, it can't be traced to TERF blogs or fora, it can only be traced to the on-line asexual community, itself, in a bizarre attempt to make anti-trans oppression somehow also linked to any critique —even the most good-faith and not only valid, but sound critiques of the on-line asexual community.

This blatant eagerness to not only spread misinformation, but also to appropriate the oppression experienced by another group is an established cult tactic. This lie, in particular, hopes to manipulate the emotions and thoughts of the audience, make sure not too many (though ideally zero) questions are asked about the claim being made, lest one be accused, or at least thought of being not only "anti-asexual" but also, by extension or association, to be "anti-trans."

While I can accept that maybe a handful of individual TERF's may have voiced anti-asexual sentiments, that sentiment is not at all a part of either TERFism, or actual Radical Feminism. If anything, the twisted reads that TERFism takes from Radical Feminist writers, is very favourable to the 1960s/'70s definition of human asexuality as "one who abstains from sex as a radical political act." That fact is just clear, when you read some of the more Bizarro Logic tweets and blogs from prominent Internet TERF's —they really seem to be sympathetic to those who don't want sex, especially those who are women.

Ergo, TERFism, in general, doesn't hate asexuals. Most TERF's simply don't care about the on-line asexual community, it's irrelevant to them. Further, a significant faction within TERF on-line spaces are —if not explicitly, then certainly implicitly— advocates for asexuals who are functionally identical to the 1960s Radical Feminist definition of asexuality (being one who both a- identifies as asexual, and b- abstains from having sex with others). Anyone who claims that TERFism is somehow also "anti-asexual" is just lying. Maybe they aren't even aware that they're lying, because they never once questioned that claim, but are instead, uncritically repeating it. Regardless of whether or not they're aware of the lie, the goal is the same: To manipulate someone in the audience from asking critical questions about the cultish nature of the on-line asexual community.

#asexuel #Asexuality #asexual problems #asexual pride #Demisexual #Demisexuality #AVEN #Asexual Visibility & Education Network #Cults #Anti-cult #asexual history

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Note

Hey! How would the companions react is sole just casually stole and wore their hat or their clothes? (Also I really love how you include X6! There are a lot of people that write the dlc companions but not him? Anyway i love him and I love your writing!)

Cait:

•At first she tends to get more annoyed with it than anything. Don't get me wrong, she wouldn't ever be truly mad over something so stupid, but..well, her upbringing has made her rather territorial over her belongings.

•Actually, this annoyance may just prove to persist. On the bright side, she'll just roll her eyes at you and tell you to stop instead of getting pissed.

•Sorry

Curie:

•Curie thinks it's a strange behavior, but she's fascinated nonetheless.

• "Why are you doing this, cheri? Do you wish to be closer to Curie?"

• Once she figures out that it's apparently just something couples do, she'll kind of smile to herself each time she catches you swiping her stuff. Go right ahead. It makes her happy to know that you love her so much.

Danse:

(For the love of everything good don't steal the power armour)

•Although Danse is usually the "no nonsense" type of man, he finds your antics rather cute....so long as it isn't hindering his routine.

•I'm going to go off on a limb and assume you aren't stealing his uniform, you have one for yourself. As such, perhaps you've stolen a shirt of his? If so, Danse is more than pleased. Nothing quite makes him happier and more prideful than waking up after an eventful night to the sight of you bustling around wearing his shirt.

Deacon:

•I guess you've chosen war.

•As soon as you kick off the "steal yo stuff" campaign, he will retaliate tenfold.

•Sure honey, you may have his shades..but he's now parading around wearing your bra over his shirt like a jackass.

Gage:

•Oh, he is happy.

•He takes you wearing his stuff as your way of saying "yep, I'm your's!" Not that he really needed the reassurance, but hell, it sure didn't hurt anything.

•Sometimes you'll even find his stuff conveniently placed where you can get to it...and your clothes mysteriously missing at all the same time.

•Just do it. Make his little possessive ass happy.

Hancock:

•He gets an absolute kick out of it. You go ahead, steal his hat, boots, anything! He'll just sit back and laugh as you do it, amused by how silly you look.

•The costume he wears already looked silly on himself, so seeing you masquerading around as him only makes him chuckle. However his satisfaction isn't purely due to the goofiness of your actions, he also finds happiness in the fact that you're "that" comfortable with him and your relationship.

•If he thinks about it hard enough, he may even tear up a little.

Macready:

•Out of all honestly? Mac thinks it's rather endearing. It could be his hat or maybe even his jacket, regardless- he thinks it's adorable.

•He'll jokingly scold you, telling you that it isn't nice to take what isn't your's before proceeding to adjust his hat on your head and kiss your nose.

Maxson:

•Arthur is completely taken aback at first. It isn't like he has ever had someone be so free with him, much less someone he cared about so much.

•At first he'll just sort of take it all in, noting the smug look on your face and the undeniably wonderful way his coat looked draped around your shoulders. He wouldn't even think to be annoyed by you stealing the essential piece of his uniform, as a matter of fact.

•Actually, the only thing he'll do is playfully chase you around his quarters until he eventually catches you and "punishes" you for being so ridiculous.!

Nick:

•True, Nick hadn't dreamt of parting with his horrid trenchcoat ever before, he might just consider it whenever you playfully steal it.

•And no, it isn't because of how raggedy it looks. The way your face lit up as caught you putting it on, it made his mechanical heart skip a beat.

•He wouldn't have the heart to tell you he needed it back. So instead he'll just settle for coming up besides you and eyeing you up and down.. "You like that old thing? I don't think it's ever looked any better.."

Piper:

•Okay, there are two ways this can go down.

•One way, the good way, being that she is aware of what you're doing and thinks it's sweet and funny.

•Or! She's aware and gets pissed when she can't find her matching gloves....

•I wouldn't advise doing this with her.

Preston:

•His heart just melts when he happens upon you wearing his hat. He had been looking for it all over, but seeing where it ended up..he wasn't in too much of a rush to get it back.

• "This is what we do now, babe? Alright, I see how it is.."

•Be fair warned, he may be tempted to get matching cowboy hats.

X6-88:

"I completely understand why you feel the need to confiscate my attire. The material it is made of provides superior stealth without sacrificing damage resistance. In addition to this, you look quite nice..I believe we should acquire a pair of your own..then we will match. Doesn't that sound nice?"

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arieswonjin · 3 years

Text

open seams; full

pairings: ham wonjin x femme!reader

genre: fluff, angst, friends to lovers au

word count: 8.6k

navigation: teaser

warnings: alcohol and intoxication, use of sharp objects, minor injury

song inspo: all my love | playlist

a/n: this is for a fic exchange with @cravitywriters' first batch of members :> apologies this came a bit late >

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

it took close to forever to find the perfect spot for the shop of your dreams. in this city and in these times, it took a lot of guts to even decide to run one.

the rent uptown was crazy expensive and the high-fashion atmosphere dimmed the charm of your minimalist garments. the spots downtown were cheap, yes, but you had to deal with creaky and moldy floors, noisy air conditioning, and rude neighbors. it was a definite no-go. but after months and months, with pages of crossed-out vacancy lists and even deeper sighs, you found just the perfect home for your handmade pieces.

the small studio was a few minutes away from the main street and the subway station. the road it was on was lined with street art on both sides, there was decent foot-traffic, and a good number of cars passing by—a haven for independent brands. plus, the landlady who lived upstairs was a middle-aged woman who, as it seemed, made it a habit to bring you her homemade rice cakes almost daily. you liked to think that this, along with the reasonable rent, was a bonus from fate.

you found the place on a random walk with a close friend. it was his idea—wonjin said you needed some fresh air after only having fruitless searches for weeks. at least that’s what you thought he meant by “go home and shower, at least,” and “c’mon, let’s go on a walk before you start to have nightmares about landlords.” who would’ve thought you’d find this place when you weren’t even looking?

the meager amount you saved up from commissions and tips while you took up different part-time jobs and sold custom pieces was enough to pay for a few months as you got your new brand established. the place wasn’t much—just enough to hold five racks of clothes, a tiny storage room, a display area, a bit of walking space—and you had to rely on your old equipment for now, but you already loved the shop dearly because it was your own.

it took a lot of heart, a lot of meals consisting of just ramyeon, a lot of needle pricks…

and a very willing model.

“ow!” a cry of pain followed by a trail of childish laughter from the same person echoed off of the walls of your empty shop. it was almost evening and the clear glass door let in a ray of orange sunlight, shining over rolls of fabric, spools of thread, and several sketches that littered your shop’s floor. it was the typical scene: you with your eyebrows furrowed in focus and your noisy yet undoubtedly helpful friend wonjin with unsewn fabric and pins over his own clothes as he stood on a small platform. even your bickering was part of the routine you’ve established the past few weeks as you prepared for opening day. seven days left!

“i’m sorry!” you withdrew the hand holding the tiny culprit, looking closely at the spot on wonjin’s shoulder which you pricked. “i promise i’ll be done in a quick minute. maybe if you put your phone down for a while…” you muttered the last part, meaning for him to hear it anyway. inside, you were thankful that he has been patient with you as you did your thing, but you just couldn’t resist an opportunity to jab at ham wonjin with your remarks. after such, he was nearly impossible to shut up.

but that’s just wonjin being wonjin and that’s what always made you want him around.

“y/n, i came to be your volunteer model, not a pin cushion.” he jabbed back and teased you, waiting for the reaction he now memorized and repeatedly coaxed out of you just for kicks: a roll of the eyes followed by a swing of the hand aimed at him which you never followed through with. nonetheless, he fake-dodged on instinct and laughed, as you knew he would.

“stay still or i’ll prick you intentionally, wonjin.”

“‘young male found pricked to death by owner of up-and-coming clothing brand…’ imagine that headline.” he trailed off and now stayed still as he chatted you up. you appreciated this, the light and familiar company as you worked to enter the unfamiliar territory that is your new business. you shook your head at his nonsense and smiled to yourself.

it was only when you locked the final stitch that evening that you leaned back and realized just how long your day has been—your eyes and back were sore, your hands were all tight and in need of a break, and your head refused to recall your designs anymore. your body was telling you to wrap the day up.

“what do you want?” you sighed and opened one of your eyes after a satisfying stretch. wonjin was standing in front of you with his palms extended and an unreadable expression on his face. what did he want?

“your hands. hurry.” a momentary pause with your mind almost going blank. my hands? “i want to try that thing you do with your knuckles when you’re done with work.” he finally stepped forward and grabbed both of your hands, making you take a few seconds to comprehend what he meant. it must be the exhaustion that’s making your brain function slower than it usually does. or maybe it’s this proximity.

“you mean cracking them?” you asked as you looked up at him from your seat.

“mhmm.” wonjin started to crack your knuckles one by one, commenting on how loud the sound from each finger was. this was an absurd scene, really, but you couldn’t deny how amusing it was to watch him and how such a simple gesture relieved a good amount of your tiredness.

“tsk.” it was all you could say after he cracked the last pinky, his hands lingering on yours a few seconds after. “okay, that’s enough, you’re going to injure me,” you grunted as you stood up and walked past him towards the storage room, hiding a now pink face.

“opening day is in exactly a week.” wonjin thought aloud as he started to pick up the clutter on the floor. “that’s still a lot of time, you know. why don’t you take tomorrow off? go to a sauna or something.” he offered the idea even though he knew so, so well that you were going to be fast to turn it down. it was too bad that you had no plans of pausing until opening day. maybe then he would’ve found the time to show you a little something he was working on. it was worth a shot, he thought. i’ll give it a few more days.

“no can do. i still have to work on jungmo’s piece. you’re bringing him over tomorrow, right?”

“if the free barbecue for us is still up… then, yes.” wonjin beamed, proud that he landed a good deal after convincing one of your friends to model for you. honestly, you believed the effort he’s been exerting for you and your shop was worth far more than a barbecue treat, but he insisted that he would accept nothing more than that.

ham wonjin always had a knack for being thoughtful without being obvious about it and it has indeed grown on you although you were quite slow to admit it to yourself.

“i’ll tell him to brace for the pin pricks.”

“pft.” you rolled your eyes at him and started to help clear out the shop before both of you got ready to leave. “let’s get coffee before walking home? it’s on me.” with a casual ruffle of wonjin’s hair, a silent thanks from you to him, met with a subsequent shake of his head to rearrange it, you closed the shop up with an unexpectedly light heart.

it was just another one out of many nights you spent walking home to the same neighborhood and it went by as it always did—seeing the bold words and symbols spray-painted on the walls of the street you were in, hearing him tell you about how cool they looked at night to which you responded as enthusiastically, pointing out newer and smaller details every time you walked past them—yet it never got old or boring.

silently, you wished the next seven days would unfold perfectly, just like how things were then and there in that small city street.

help, he’s been talking about you since we sat down. come quickly.

a text message from jungmo pulled you out of your sleepy train of thought as you stood on the crowded subway, three stops away from your destination: to a breakfast cafe where you planned to meet with wonjin and jungmo before working on the piece for your new model.

from a face that was barely awake came a blush that’s been finding its way there quite often recently. you’ve been trying to send away your suspicions that you were growing fonder and fonder of wonjin and your attempts would usually be successful if not for text messages like this. a fraction of the blame for your confusion goes to your friends for their persistent hints and teases. they may as well be just that: meaningless hints and empty teases stemming from the constant bickering that your friends found cute and endearing. the fact that you and wonjin were almost joined at the hip for the past few months didn’t help. neither did his clinginess which you suddenly start to look for on days he was too busy with his own matters to drop by.

the casual offers to walk you home, the few seconds he spends wordless and silent when you get too close as you worked on his pieces, or the smallest gestures to help you out with the shop were all subjected to your overthinking. but nevermind all that. you didn’t have plans of telling anyone about this anyway. a short reply would suffice for now.

bleh. i’m almost there.

your face glowed as you got closer and closer to the cafe. no one would have been able to tell that you were stressing over a million little things about the imminent opening day. for reasons you couldn’t put a finger on, you wanted to at least overhear a hint of what wonjin was saying about you before you sat down and kept a straight face in front of him again. anything; the smallest compliment, the most mundane story about how you spent time together, anything that could fuel you up for the next few days knowing that thoughts of you lived in his head too. all that after denying to acknowledge any feelings. way to be fickle, y/n, you thought to yourself.

entering the packed and brightly-decorated cafe, you approached the two friends who’ve already ordered their meals. huh, thanks a lot. from behind the booth table they picked out, you slowed down, planning on intentionally not making your presence known until you were almost seated.

your face dropped the very second their conversation reached earshot.

“it’s beginning to become burdensome. i don’t think we even match. it’s never going to happen. just a few more days and i swear—i’m done,” you heard this in wonjin’s unmistakable voice, with a tone of annoyance that went straight through your chest.

“i see.” jungmo nodded and the two continued digging into their breakfast, still unaware of your arrival.

you took this as an opportunity to turn your heels and retrace your steps to the subway station, sending jungmo a quick text before you wallowed in your scattered thoughts. you felt the heat radiating from your face but now for a much different reason.

if there were two things you hated the most in the world, it was being lied to and unnecessarily troubling the people you cared about. it felt worse hearing both from wonjin’s mouth. this was the same person who’s been there for you for months while you built the shop from the ground up, the same person who’s seemingly been helping you unconditionally. you were at a loss about who to blame: yourself for not noticing how much your shop was demanding from him or wonjin for keeping all this pent-up annoyance behind your back.

last night, when you imagined how the rest of your week would pan out, you didn’t expect to see yourself inside a packed subway train, desperately keeping your tears from pouring.

“that’s weird. y/n just said she went directly to the shop instead. urgent.” jungmo perked up at your sudden message, eyes on his phone as he ate the last slice of his pancake.

“what? y/n didn’t text me anything after she said she was a station away. she would’ve told me.” wonjin looked around the cafe, sure that jungmo was mistaken and half-expecting to see you meters away from their table. “i already ordered for her though…”

“she’s asking me to come by quickly so she can finish fitting the pieces. it won’t take until lunch, right?” jungmo’s question went unnoticed as a now preoccupied wonjin kept his eyes on the untouched plate in front of him.

“so stubborn, tsk. really can’t get her hands off her work. one of these days she’s going to get sick. and you know she lives alone so—”

“dude. now that we’re back to y/n, you’re chattering again. just finish your food so i can go get fitted.”

wonjin sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, inwardly worried about your sudden change of plans and ready to nag at you for not giving yourself even the slightest break. what is she doing not giving herself even half an hour for breakfast? this fool.

there was barely any room for the sound of the shop’s door chimes, which signaled the two’s arrival, with wonjin’s trail of nags starting before he was even entirely inside. hearing all this from the storage room where you were distracting yourself by reorganizing your fabrics, you let out a deep sigh and hoped your eyes did not look too red and swollen before you stepped out. this is stupid, you thought. you had no time for delays but your emotions were getting the best of you. if you were going to finish your work, it had to be without him.

“y/n, at this rate you’re going to tire yourself out and get sick on opening day. we agreed last night you’d be at the cafe to at least stuff yourself with this before the long day,” wonjin took no breaths in between, placing the paper bag containing your forgotten breakfast on top of your work counter. “then suddenly you say you aren’t going anymore. did the racks arrive early? why did you suddenly—“

“thanks for coming, jungmo.” you greeted the older male, cutting off wonjin's monologue without even looking at him. jungmo just nodded and shrugged, obviously used to the dynamic between his two friends who were in front of him. he simply sat down on one of the wooden stools and started keeping himself busy with his phone. you felt bad that he had to be caught in the middle of this, but between confronting your feelings and doing what had to be done for the shop, you were sure you were much more ready to do the latter. “this won’t take that long, don’t worry.”

“did you hear me just now…? sit down and eat first, y/n.” wonjin started to sense that something was up with the way you paced around busily as you got your materials ready and purposely avoided his eyes.

“i thought i texted you not to come,” a muttered statement was finally sent his way—a weak acknowledgment of his presence—but you were still looking at anything but him. from your peripheral vision, you saw wonjin getting his phone out to check what you meant.

“huh… i didn’t see that…” his usual speaking volume started to drop, a sign that you knew meant he was genuinely puzzled.

“now that you have…” you kept a straight face and mustered the heart to look at him, trying to act as nonchalant as you could even though you knew that the next words out of your mouth were not you. “go home. or somewhere else, at least… spare yourself the burden of being stuck here again.”

“what are you talking about?” he started to laugh to try and lighten up the rising tension, a habit of his. is this some kind of prank? he thought to himself and searched your expression for some giveaways. “is jungmo replacing me?” when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he paused.

“no time for questions, okay, wonjin? it’s time to go, i need to get to work and this isn’t helping. please go.” it took everything in you to keep yourself calm and collected and you didn’t know how many more questions you could dodge. why am i being so emotional, damn it.

“what do you mean ‘go?’” wonjin tried to laugh again, albeit a softer, less confident one. “this shop’s practically home... did something happen on the way here?”

“go as in...you don’t need to drop by anymore. i’m almost done with everything.” a total lie.

“i know you’ll do well by yourself, y/n, but you know i don’t mind helping. it’s not a big deal.” wonjin reassured, stepping forward as if this would prove his point. to your annoyance, he went on to bring your takeout breakfast out of its bag and proceeded to prepare the food on your work counter, all the while nagging at you for being the stubborn person you were. “it must be the hunger, y/n. come here and eat.”

you, on the other hand, kept your distance and contained a painful laugh. it was almost funny comparing what you heard earlier to the words he was saying right now. what was he playing at? “it must be tiring, huh? just go, okay? you don’t need to do all this. no one’s forcing you. i’ll be fine here.”

he sighed. “just tell me what’s going on. pushing me away like this when i don’t know what i’ve done? you’re being a bit hurtful right now,” wonjin’s last strands of patience were barely keeping him together, matching your slowly rising temper.

“trust me, i’ve heard worse. go.” your gaze pierced through him for a good few seconds until jungmo, who’s been slowly realizing that things were getting serious, pulled wonjin away before he blurted things out in frustration. the way wonjin looked right now was as if his questions were visibly jumping out of him. there’s never been an exchange this intense between the two of you no matter how much you bickered and everyone in the room knew it.

reaching his limit, wonjin shook free from jungmo and briskly walked out of the shop, leaving a strange silence after the chimes died down.

the next couple of days consisted of wonjin keeping himself from going back to the shop and you trying to dodge jungmo’s probing questions as you worked. even after countless attempts to rethink what he did that day, he was still clueless about what prompted you to deny any help or to avoid him entirely. the years of friendship you had meant that he knew you were not the type of person to dismiss others without any good reason.

but his pride went head to head with his worry and this led him to spend consecutive late nights with unsent messages, apologies written and deleted, calls not made, and questions not asked. after all, what was he going to apologize for? if anything, he believed he deserved an apology for being sent away without explanations. with this thought, wonjin would pull on his hair in frustration because of how childish he sounded in his head.

just when i thought things were going well between us. just when he was ready to tell you how, with your passion and perseverance and, he admitted, maybe a bit of your friends’ little remarks on how you two looked good together, you’ve slowly made a friend fall for you in the span of the past few months.

“okay, get this. there’ll be new collections every month and they’ll all be themed after the zodiacs. but i wonder if i can come up with pieces that fast? or how about i do quarterly collections? maybe that’ll be better, releasing three designs altogether…i just wonder if i can keep that up for the whole year. would anyone even show up to buy my stuff? what do you think? god, i don’t even have a name for my shop yet.”

several months ago, when the shop still seemed out of reach and it felt impossible to settle on a place to start your business, you would cheer yourself up by picturing the ideal: your shop all decked and ready, packed with people shopping for your new collections, appreciating the hours of hard work that went into each handmade piece. with every spurt of excitement, wonjin would just be the constant cheerleader and voice of reason, both supporting you and bringing you back down to reality.

“why are you looking at me like that, ham wonjin?” you turned to get a view of the boy seated beside you on the bus stop, an uncharacteristically wordless wonjin, his head slightly tilted away with a downward gaze at you, an amused look on his face. the day was almost coming to an end, a full day spent walking around town, lists of units for rent on hand.

“nothing. i think that’s a good idea.” he smiled and looked up to think. “but it sounds like you’ll be wearing yourself out. what about doing monthly collections when you find more help?”

“you’ve got a point.” you considered this but you were nonetheless excited about the potential this little shop holds. “anyway, let’s go. i still have a lot of open seams to sew.”

“open seams.” wonjin repeated.

“yeah, the unfinished pieces. remember? the shop? me? sewing? clothes?” you teased, acting out every word like a mime.

“no, dummy. open seams. the name of your shop. it sounds catchy doesn’t it?” it was wonjin’s turn to get excited and your turn to find amusement in his enthusiasm. “didn’t you say open seams look unfinished but that’s what gives them the edge?”

“wow, i can’t believe you actually listen to me blabber about seams.”

wonjin whined at this, defending himself and saying that he always listened. you said the new name, again and again, testing out how it felt to say and how it sounded. “open seams. it does sound great...”

that hug out of nowhere and the strong tug at his hand pulling him towards the bus that just stopped in front of the both of you was all he could remember as he walked home that night. the very next morning after that encounter, he set off to a certain street art-lined street with your shop in mind after finding an online listing for a vacancy that was just the perfect price, the perfect size, and on the perfect street that would soon be housing your pieces of art.

pulling his mind back to the present and attempting to keep it from wandering to you again, he made himself busy with the only other thing he had going on: the last few days of a low-paying multimedia job he impulsively committed to and is now regretting. he stretched in his chair, his phone kept in place with his cheek and shoulder.

“how’s that media job you were talking about the other day? still a burden?” jungmo’s calls have been the only thing keeping wonjin in touch with what’s going on in the shop. even if he didn’t ask, the reliable hyung kept him up to date with the last set of preps and your occasional breakdowns.

“it’s a definite no-match. i’ve got three days left and i just want to make a run for it.” wonjin looked at all the uninteresting piles of manuals haphazardly stacked on his home desk, a reflection of how much he despised working this job from home. truth be told, he would much rather be working with you downtown. “how are things?”

“you mean, how’s y/n?”

“you know what i mean.”

“she’s out to eat with yuna right now after refusing a hundred times. we’re staying with her until tonight, though, so don’t worry.”

“alright.” wonjin sighed, feeling powerless that he was of no help to ease your load yet still refusing to do anything about it.

“just talk to each other, for god’s sake! you both sound terrible-” jungmo shouted through the phone, pleading to his younger friend. “do you even know how many times i tried to ask y/n about what happened between you two? seventy-seven times, wonjin. seventy-seven times. yes, i counted-”

“i’m hanging up.” wonjin tossed the phone away making it land somewhere among the stack of items on his messy desk. a few seconds after he rudely ended the call, a text message from a persistent jungmo. dinner still on tonight. you have to come with us, dude.

you didn’t know what came over you. there were only three days left until your shop’s opening day. there were still several patterns to cut up, clothing pieces that needed to be sewn together, and more people to invite for your brand to gain traction, yet you were here at a nearby barbecue place, giving in to your friends’ requests for you to let loose for a few hours with a couple of shots of alcohol, good food, and conversations that held until several hours after midnight.

anyone would’ve noticed how tense you’ve become in a span of a few days—from the tired yet happy y/n who’s excited to get to work every morning despite the imminent deadline to an irritable, downcast y/n who wouldn’t keep their eyes and ears off of their work and nothing else.

and yes, everyone knew the reason behind this sudden change in work attitude. it was an open secret: the sudden and unexplainable drift between you and wonjin, previously an inseparable pair of friends, and both of your unwillingness to patch it up. your friends decided that mentioning it to either of you was just like nudging a rock on the side of a cliff, especially with an important occasion happening soon.

for wonjin, there was a mix of pride and confusion. why were you suddenly pushing him away when he was closer to you than he ever was? he never left your side as you built your shop from the ground up only for you to passive-aggressively refuse any further help a week before opening day. he deserved a proper explanation, but he would almost worry himself into sleep deprivation thinking about how important opening day was to you. it was either he asked you directly and tip the delicate mind balance you had as you got things in order or he could wait it out and almost go crazy at the mere thought of not hearing a peep from you.

for you, it was pure disappointment. in yourself or him, you were not sure. all you wanted was to stay sane for the time being and you told yourself that this was only possible if you didn’t see or hear him anywhere near you. you’ve heard how he truly felt, you heard it crystal clear, so there was nothing else to talk about. after all, if he saw you as a burden, why push any further?

so alas, there you were, with a small group of friends and a whole night to spend without any of your handmade pieces or clothed mannequins.

slow down? you repeated in your head once you heard jungmo and yuna’s invitation to tonight’s mini get-together. slowing down just made you remember how dull the days have been ever since you sent wonjin away that morning. stupid, talkative, playful wonjin who gave you the best, most comforting company. slowing down made you miss him, but you weren’t going to say that out loud.

this was probably what the sober you would have thought, but your slurred speech and buffering mind, now clouded with the two bottles of alcohol you’ve consumed that night, begged to differ. you were now in a state of zero filter and total unawareness of the faces swimming around you.

“burdensome? tsk. so i was burdensome to him, huh?” you laughed bitterly and roughly downed another shot of soju, using the back of your hand to trap any spills from your lips. “idiot. wonjin is an idiot. if you didn’t want to stay close to me, just tell me, damn it!” you shouted, repeatedly stomping your feet on the floor like a child.

your incoherent sentences, flushed cheeks, and unfocused eyes were what welcomed wonjin when he arrived at your table, half-jogging. jungmo, who has been carefully watching you since you asked for your second bottle, gave him an apologetic look and shrugged, gesturing to the empty bottles in front of you. “look, i know you refused to come and eat dinner with us but i had to call you. you live the closest to y/n.”

wonjin shook his head and laughed, half in disbelief and half in amusement. and here he thought he was going to spend his night cooped up with work to get you out of his head. “has she been calling me names all night?”

“you have no idea. good luck.” he patted wonjin’s back and watched as he pulled you up from your seat,

“let’s go, y/n. you can continue talking shit about me on the way home, okay?” wonjin’s tone was gentle as if he was testing the waters. the last thing he wanted was for you to lash out at him then and there. first, he needed to get you home. you two can talk some other time. hopefully.

“who’s this purple-haired clown? why is your hair purple like wonjin’s? are you his twin? is that idiot your twin?” it was a surprise you even managed to get those words out in between hiccups.

“idiot? you’re the idiot, getting drunk like this.” wonjin muttered under his breath. he still struggled to pull you up and support your body weight but what he found was that the best way to keep you conscious was to indulge you in conversation.

and that he did as he walked you to the usual bus stop where you two always sat and waited for the last trip.

“…if you see him around, tell him this for me.” you started, unknowingly leaning your head on his shoulder, giving into the heaviness you felt around your temples. in your drunken state, you genuinely thought you were talking to a pure stranger.

“hmm?” wonjin looked down at you, softening as he saw you with your eyes tightly shut as you repressed nausea. “what should i tell him?

“tell him—tell him i need to know how to forget him… he needs to tell me— how to do that…even for just a few days… okay? you’ll tell him?” there was no way you could have stopped your subconscious from pouring out. it was the truth told as it was: all you wanted was to get through the next few days without the hassle of whatever emptiness it was that you felt.

“why don’t you tell him yourself?” wonjin let his head lean against yours, sighing the millionth sigh between the both of you since a few days ago. “and what if he doesn’t know how to do that either, with you?”

“why do you have so many questions?!” you grabbed his arm and shook it non-stop, making him laugh at how ridiculous you looked and sounded with your unfocused eyes and the non-sense you were spouting. “don’t ask me questions because i don’t know, okay?! i just miss ham wonjin!”

wonjin froze for a few seconds, simply blinking at you and at the words you were saying over and over again. when he finally recovered, he calmed you down and leaned your head on his shoulder again. “he says he feels the same way.”

a head-splitting ache woke you up at ten in the morning the next day, only two days before the most awaited opening day. the last thing you remembered from last night was being halfway through your second bottle of soju and your friends jungmo, yuna, and serim telling you to slow down. it didn’t really take a lot to guess that you didn’t listen to them.

after a few slow minutes of debating whether or not you can get up and get on with your day in one piece, you eventually pulled your blankets off of you and figured that you'd live with the consequences of last night’s choices. besides, you couldn’t skip a crucial preparation day. after sending your three friends a quick thank-you message for getting you home safely, your phone lit up again with a message. you did a double-take at the new notification that just arrived; it was a text message from wonjin. are you up?

three days of silence and all he asks me is if i’m up? you grunted, refused to open the message in question, and, seeing no point in dwelling, went on with the rest of your routine. you didn’t know what else you wanted to read from that text, but you sure weren’t expecting to see such a casual question after literally not having heard a peep from each other for days. if you were being honest, you half-expected him to arrive at dinner last night.

but whatever that text meant, you didn’t want to use your head, which at the moment felt like it weighs a ton, to think about it.

your forehead in your hands as you navigate around your now-sunlit studio apartment, you hoped that the last-minute invitations, quality checks, and tidying up would keep you busy enough to forget the fact that, last night, you could’ve sworn you dreamt of wonjin and how he sat beside you on a bus ride home.

“and there she is, fighting through the aftermath of alcohol.” yuna greeted loudly and met you halfway as you approached your shop on foot. last night, the three offered to be your manpower for the next few days which is why she, jungmo, and serim were all waiting for you out on the sidewalk, eyes squinted because of the sunlight and their mild hangovers.

“do we get some kind of prize that we arrived earlier than you?” serim asked as the four of you entered.

“coffee, as always.” this was met by a cheer from jungmo who wasted no time in attending to the shop decor which was still packed in boxes. “don’t worry, guys. if my shop does well, it’s meat for everyone.”

“it’s settled then.” yuna clapped and got everyone’s attention. “okay, team. to your usual tasks. serim, light fixtures. jungmo, decor. me, storage. y/n, create.”

“jungmo’s taller, why do i get the light fixtures?”

you smiled sincerely for the first time in a few days, touched that they’re taking time off from their days to get the shop together, to get you together. “oh, and guys, sorry about last night. feel free to curse at me. i must’ve been so heavy.” you sat down in front of your work counter, fighting back a cringe. after numerous nights out, you just knew they had a treasure chest full of embarrassing stories to haunt you with. you were thankful no one else was there to see you wiped out.

“hmm, you must’ve.” a knowing smile from a mischievous serim to jungmo and yuna. “but we wouldn’t know. right, guys?”

“yeah, y/n. i don’t know, i brought serim to his home.” yuna shared, trying to sound innocent but failing as she shouted from the storage room.

“and i went home alone because i wasn’t drunk.” jungmo followed without missing a single beat. now you were utterly confused. did these three just call a cab on you or did you walk yourself home? you looked at the three of them one by one, their questionable smiling faces met with the most puzzled look on your face.

“all i know is…” jungmo started, keeping himself from breaking out in laughter before he could get his words out. “you called him a purple-haired idiot. that’s it.”

“what?!” you stood up abruptly, making your chair tumble back with a thud.

and just then, you started to recall bits and pieces of last night, starting from the vague bus ride that, until a few moments ago, you thought was just a dream. what in the world did i do now?

“y/n, i’ll help you up, okay? we’re almost at our stop.” wonjin pulled you up from your bus seat where you’ve been half-asleep on his shoulder. putting his arms around you as he guided you down the vehicle and onto the sidewalk, he repeatedly apologized to the bus driver for the delay. wonjin could only nod and laugh at the friendly reply from the middle-aged man who shouted ‘take your girlfriend home safely!’ he silently wondered how sober y/n would have reacted to such a remark.

just as the two of you stepped down, a splattering against the ground made both of you stop in your tracks.

“good heavens,” wonjin muttered as he rubbed your back and looked at the part of his shoes that was now covered in whatever it was you had for dinner a while ago. “you know, y/n, i wonder if you’d remember this once you pass by this mess tomorrow morning. looks like you enjoyed your barbecue too much.” wonjin joked, still not halting the backrubs as you were doubled over with your hands on your knees.

when you looked up at him after that spiel, all you could do was smile apologetically and giggle, eyes half-open. “let’s go home. i’m tired.”

“are you all done? you’re not going to throw up on my shirt or anything?” wonjin pulled you away from the side of the road, leading you to the direction of your apartment. “you have to tell me your apartment password so you can go in, okay?”

“you have to guess it. you’re never going to guess it!” you pulled away from his hold and ran around him in circles, getting a thrill from how light you started to feel after letting some of the alcohol out.

jogging to catch up with you, wonjin shouted, “y/n, slow down you’re gonna hurt yourself! aish. this child.”

“i threw up on him.” you said out loud to no one in particular. the text from this morning, your friend’s teasing smiles, and the blurry, dream-like memories on the bus meant that wonjin did make it to dinner last night just when you were in no state of mind to remember when exactly he arrived. “i threw up on him outside my home... jungmo, it was you who called him, wasn’t it?! guys?!”

the laughter that filled the room after that and the whines of a terrified jungmo who wanted none of your punches were muffled by the sound of the door chimes tingling, signaling someone’s arrival. you almost snapped your neck as you hurried to see who it was.

“hi, dear.” instead of a particular young male, you were met with the sight of the friendly landlady from upstairs, a plate of her usual handmade treats on hand, and a welcoming smile on her face. you mentally flicked yourself for involuntarily expecting someone else. “rice cakes?”

“oh, auntie. it’s you.” the relief in your tone made your friends snicker. “thank you, you didn’t have to...”

“why so surprised, dear? were you expecting someone?” she asked, waving at the set of friends bustling away inside the shop with the same annoying smiles on their faces. “oh that’s right. where’s that lovely boy, wonjin?”

“lovely boy,” serim whispered and bit back a laugh, earning him a glare from you.

“he can’t make it today, auntie,” you explained shortly, politely getting the plate of rice cakes from her hands.

“that’s too bad. it’s almost opening day.” she looked around the shop, satisfied by how it’s starting to look compared to the bare and boring unit she used to clean every day. “you worked your magic in this place. it feels just like yesterday when he was begging me to keep this small spot reserved for a day.”

“what do you mean?”

“wonjin, that boy! remember? he was here the day before both of you passed by to finally rent it? ”

“i- i didn’t know that, auntie.”

all this time, you thought you both found the place by chance and now here you were finding out that he was the one who made sure open seams happened. the walk you took that day wasn’t such a random one after all. what was up with the universe today and its not-so-subtle way of telling you to let wonjin back into your mind and your life? him taking you home last night and now this; whatever happened to the burdensome y/n he was talking about?

“aaaand, another secret’s out.” yuna walked out of the storage room, a box of spools in hand. she beamed at the landlady who took a few seconds to figure out what she just revealed.

“oh. oops.” the landlady sheepishly turned back and started to push the door open, ready to take her leave. “i think that’s my cue. see you around, dear.”

“see you around, auntie!” your three friends greeted her when she was out of the shop. they turned their heads back to you who had nothing but a blank stare and mouth agape, the gears almost visibly turning inside your head.

“so now will you tell us what’s been going on between you two? it’s just weird knowing about all that and seeing you guys refuse to make up. both of you aren’t looking so good either, you know?” serim asked after giving you a few seconds to think.

you sighed, leaning on the side of the table for support. “that day at the breakfast cafe, he said all this was getting kind of heavy and burdensome. that he couldn’t wait for it to end.” you decided to tell them once and for all about how you felt. “and that we were never going to happen.”

“y/n. you’re so stupid. ow!” jungmo concluded, earning him a smack to both shoulders by serim and yuna. “he was talking about that job he had! if you stayed longer and ate with us, you would’ve heard how smitten he was even if he wouldn’t admit it. i can see right through him.” jungmo explained in a high-pitched tone that reflected how frustrated he has been with the two of you. “now that i think about it, you’re both stupid.”

smitten? you took in everything jungmo just said and remembered every word you blurted out when you sent wonjin away that morning. finding out that he had another job all while helping you out with the shop for the past few months made you regret how you acted even more. it frustrated you that you’ve been too preoccupied to even ask about him. this is all on me. why did i act so rashly? “i’m so stupid.”

“are we just now finally finding out that this was all a big misunderstanding?” yuna piped up, breaking the silence.

“and are you telling me that it almost took a fallout for you to finally see the feelings you had for each other? these kids,” serim added, raising both hands in defeat.

different variations of ‘i knew it’ and ‘it’s about time’ as well as ‘idiots’ filled the shop as you were still frozen in place. you knew you had to apologize to wonjin, but where were you even going to start? with that encounter at the cafe? with how bad you felt for invalidating his heart to help you and rudely pushing him away? with everything you think you blurted out on that drunk night? or maybe how you actually felt for him?

can you meet me here in 30 minutes?

it took wonjin less than a heartbeat to reply to your message asking about where he was. even though you were the one who was out of it last night, he couldn’t help but worry over his own impulses. if you remembered everything he told you while he thought you were drunk and asleep, he had no choice but to explain it to you while you were fully-sober. and the thought of finally confronting you about everything made the usually-confident and talkative wonjin tongue-tied.

“hey.” you turned the corner of the small side-street where wonjin asked to meet and found him leaning against one of the street art-ridden walls, waiting for you. it was a spot near your shop but one that you didn’t pass by as frequently. an odd choice of a meeting place, but you figured he wanted to talk to you without your friends overhearing.

“here of all places?” you struck up a conversation albeit awkwardly, buying yourself time before the long apology.

he pointed to the wall behind him, looking at it up and down. “i was supposed to show you this sooner since they finished it early but…”

behind him was a small piece of street art. open seams, it said in the colors you usually used for your handmade pieces and in the style you designed for your simple logo. you softened not only at the thought that this shop was becoming a reality but also at how wonjin did this despite your missteps the past few days. at this point, you no longer knew if you were even worthy of him and his thoughtfulness.

“...you were supposed to show me this sooner but i was terrible to you, and i’m sorry. you didn’t deserve that. after everything... i don’t know if saying thank you would even be enough. that morning-”

“you look like you just lost a million won, y/n.” his reply cut you off, earning him a roll of your eyes to which he merely responded with a playful laugh. “auntie told you, huh? i knew i couldn’t trust her and her rice cakes.” wonjin joked again, now more relaxed than he was moments ago now that things are starting to look up between the both of you. if there was anything that he needed for comfort the past few days, it was the presence that he’s gotten so used to.

“i’ve had quite the morning, you know.” you told him as you eased into the conversation. “finding out you were the one who brought me home last night, finding out i wouldn’t have gotten the unit if not for you, and finding out i was mad at you over something i misunderstood. all this time.”

what proceeded was a detailed apology you practiced in your head beforehand. wonjin just laughed at how fast you were talking and he didn’t forget to give the occasional side comments to reassure you that he was still the old, talkative, and witty ham wonjin that you didn’t have to act differently around. you knew in yourself that this was one of the things you missed badly.

the weight you felt in your chest turned lighter as every bit of misunderstanding cleared out. “...all that because i didn’t even stop to think that one morning. i’m sorry…”

he delayed his response for a while, suddenly making you worry that he had more to be upset about. but he eventually nodded and waved away any remaining tension. “apology accepted.” wonjin ruffled your hair just like you always did with his. “we’re good. but do you remember anything else?”

“except for the fact that i threw up on your shoes, no, i don’t remember doing anything else.”

“the shoes were one thing.” he scratched his head and talked in such a low volume and such high speed you couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying just to tease you. “but not even me telling you i liked you while you were all leaning on my shoulder at the bus and that whole speech i said about falling for you after i tucked you in?”

“what? you said what when i was tucked in?!” you leaned in to hear him, only catching remnants of what you suspected was a confession.

“ah, too bad. it was a one-time subscription, so you’d have to pay to hear it again.” he shrugged.

“you little- just tell me! it’s not like it’ll be any more embarrassing than me pouring out my stomach contents on the sidewalk for everyone to see.” you stepped forward wanting to hear more from him but he shook his head and refused to tell you anything further. the mischievous smile on his face as he paced around to avoid your probing weirdly made your heart beat faster. “fine. i was planning to tell you about something important but i guess you don’t want to hear it-”

“i don’t need to. i already know your apartment password is my birthday.” he stopped pacing and expectantly searched your face for confirmation despite not needing it. “right, y/n? 032201?” he repeated the numbers again and again just to coax a reaction out of you, his favorite thing to do.

“wh- what are you talking about?” holy-. if there were any more of this kind of surprises today, you didn’t know how much more of the shock you could take, but it seems like wonjin was enjoying just watching you all flustered. “i opened it myself-”

“y/n, you were too drunk to even see the keypad last night. when i tried my luck, we got in. 032201? who else could that be?”

you were about to protest but as you were stuttering your poorly-made excuses, wonjin took your hand and slowly pulled you into a tight hug, all the while laughing at how ridiculous each of your statements was starting to sound. after the initial embarrassment passed, you realized there really was really nothing to hide anymore.

“are you done?” wonjin asked, still not letting go of his hold on you which you returned willingly, hugging him tightly and hiding your face in his chest. “because to put it simply, i like you.”

you sighed in content, feeling all the exhaustion from the past few days seep out of you with just those three words. “i like you, too, ham wonjin.”

“and one more thing…” you added. “jungmo told me you were smitten.”

it was wonjin’s turn to get flustered and defensive, you pulled your face away and leaned back to watch as he cursed at jungmo for describing him in such a way. wonjin trailed off in his usual rants while you looked up at him with no plans of stopping his lovable nonsense.

opening day

it was noontime on opening day: the ribbons have been cut, your mini-opening show went smoothly, friends have visited and selected their favorite pieces, and most of all, you have led the toast that officially marked the start of this journey. it felt utterly surreal.

“all i can say is…” wonjin put his arm around you as you stood beside the racks of clothing you spent months perfecting. “it was certainly worth the hundreds of pinpricks.”

“well, then. if you want more…” you pinched his side and laughed as he dodged you and made his way to your three other friends who were also admiring the work they did for the shop.

a few nights ago, on a nighttime walk home in this same neighborhood, you wished for a perfect week to unfold in front of you. and maybe it did; just not in the way you anticipated, but exactly the way you wished it would end.

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