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#redeem slytherin
Just encountered the babygirlification of Orion Black first hand and i- I really thought that was some kind of joke 😭
Like maybe I'm a hypocrite BC I adore Regulus and tolerate Barty and Evan, but the established fanon for Orion is literally that he was either actively abusive or passively allowed wallbitch to be abusive. Like that is inescapably The Lore (tm). Idc I am *so* here for morally grey characters and ethical complexity and nuance, but trying to make out an abusive parent as redeemable. I just. I can't fuck with that. I cannot.
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spaceyaceface · 11 months
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Snow, Scarves, and Schemes
Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader (unspecified Hogwarts House)
Word Count: 14.8k (oops) 
Content Warnings: Slight angst 
Summary: Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only. 
Or, the classic friends to lovers, idiots in love, fake dating scenario. 
Also available on AO3
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Y/N paced back and forth nervously in the Undercroft. This was a stupid idea. Utterly rubbish. She considered going back to her common room, but knew it was already too late–she’d sent him an owl, after all. A bloody owl with a bloody note asking for help and to meet her in the Undercroft. She couldn’t flee now; he’d just track her down and badger her about later.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to the Undercroft opened with the boy she was waiting for waltzing through. He’d shot up in height the summer after their fifth year—he now nearly had to duck coming in the doorway. He’d been a twig for a brief moment after his growth spurt (a fact that Y/N had taken to her advantage and teased him with) but he had quickly filled out in the months that followed. Now, Sebastian Sallow stood tall and broad before her, the changes from the last two years evident to her eyes. It made her feel a little intimidated. Not that Sebastian himself was intimidating—she knew him too well to ever fear him. And he knew her well enough that she wouldn’t put up with any of his nonsense. The last two years of friendship had made them very close—of everyone in Hogwarts, Sebastian was easily the person she trusted the most, despite some of the difficulties throughout their time together. He’d really come far in proving himself redeemed—the fact that Anne now spoke to him attesting to his progress. It was her trust in him that led to this moment now.
“I got your owl, what’s happened?” He’d seen her nervous only a handful of times before. For the most part, Y/N was a girl who didn’t let things get to her—she made a habit of running headfirst into danger, thinking of the consequences only in passing. So, the way she was wringing her hands was most unusual. “You said you needed help, are the poachers back around Hogwarts?”
She shook her head quickly, finally meeting her eyes. “No, nothing like that. It’s just—oh this is stupid, I shouldn’t have sent that owl—”
“Too late,” Sebastian teased. “I know something’s afoot, I won’t rest until I find out what it is.”
“I know, I know!” She sighed. “You can’t laugh, alright?”
A signature smirk settled on his face. “No promises.”
She groaned. “Look, you know Leander Prewett, right?”
The events leading up to Y/N’s hastily scribbled note came back full force. Leander had followed her from her Herbology class down to Potions. Most of the time, Y/N had Sebastian and Ominis by her side, and could quickly dismiss the arrogant Gryffindor. But today, Sebastian had ‘accidently’ spilled a bag of dung all over Garreth Weasley’s feet, and Professor Garlick had insisted Sebastian stay behind to clean it up. Poor Ominis, guilty only by association, had been roped in as well. So Leander had taken his chance and walked out of the classroom with Y/N.
Because their conversations were usually cut off by Y/N running off to Sebastian and Ominis, Leander would typically ask how she was, make some snide remark about a Slytherin, and then ask her out. Sometimes she answered with a simple “No, thank you,” sometimes she made excuses of how busy she was, and sometimes, when she was really at her wit’s end, she’d pretend she hadn’t heard the question before claiming she saw Ominis’s blond hair up ahead and running off. But today she couldn’t find a reason to run.
And so, Leander strode up to her in the hall. “How are you, Y/N?”
“Just fine, thank you,” she stated simply, not even meeting eyes with the red-headed boy.
“Pretty low of Sallow to dump that dung all over. Typical Slytherin. Serves him right to have to clean it all up.”
She didn’t give him a reply this time, electing to roll her eyes instead. The whole Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry had always seemed pointless and melodramatic to her, though she had to admit she disliked it coming from Leander a lot more than hearing it from Sebastian or Ominis.
“What would you say to a trip to the Three Broomsticks with me this weekend, eh? My treat, of course. Could make a date of it.”
She let out a sigh. “I’d say no thank you, Leander.”
He scowled a bit. It was no secret to the majority of the students in their year that Leander had been chasing after Y/N for some time now. Ever since she became the “hero of Hogwarts” (a title she loathed to be remembered by), he’d had his eye on her. She had always felt it was less than actual attraction and more of a claim to fame that had him on her tail. But he was persistent.
“Why won’t you let me take you out, Y/N? We could end up enjoying ourselves, you know. I pride myself in being good company.”
“Because I don’t want to , Leander.” She was growing exasperated with him quickly.
“Want to? Or don’t think you can?” Leander frowned at her. “I know your friends with Sallow, and if I’d hazard a guess, I’d say he’s trying to poison you against me.”
She stopped walking, aghast. “I’d say it’s yourself who led to any ill-feelings I have toward you.”
“Then why not give a chance at settling some of those ill-feelings?”
Her fists clenched at her sides, and before she knew what she was saying, the words came tumbling out of her mouth—the words she almost immediately grew to regret.
And now in the present, Sebastian's eyes narrowed. “That prat? What about him?”
Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his sour reaction. “Well, it’s to do with him. You see, he keeps asking me out—”
“You’re not planning on saying yes, are you?” he asked, an edge to his voice. Ah, that Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry.
“Of course not! Like you said, he’s a prat. A prat who won’t take no for an answer. Well, at least he wouldn’t, until I told him was already seeing someone…” She bit her lip, looking away from him.
Sebastian’s eyebrows raised. “You’re seeing someone? That’s news to him and me both, though I thought as your best friend I’d be a bit more entitled to that information.”
“That’s the whole problem, Sebastian! I’m not seeing anyone. I just needed a way to get him off my back, and now he’s suspicious, it was obvious he didn’t believe me—”
She was interrupted by a laugh. Sebastian was holding his arms over his stomach, nearly bent in half with the laughter shaking his body.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”
“I said no such thing.” He stood up straight again, still chuckling. “So, you need someone to pretend to be courting you, is that it?”
She blushed deeply, covering her face with her hands. “Yes, Sebastian. That’s what I need help with.”
“Well, I’m honored.” He grinned ear to ear. “What made you choose me over Ominis, if I may ask?”
“For one, most everyone has heard he’s courting Anne now, which would add some tension if he was supposedly courting both of us—”
“Ah, right,” Sebastian conceded. Ominis and Anne’s developing relationship was rather new, one that had completely blindsided Sebastian (which was ridiculous in Y/N’s opinion, she could see it from a mile away. The protective twin had simply been in denial), though he had approved nonetheless.
“And secondly, to be quite frank, Prewett… has a stronger distaste for you than for Ominis. I figured it would throw him off his game a bit more.”
“Strategic. I like it.” He clapped his hands together. “So, when do we start?”
Y/N brightened. “You’ll help me then?”
“Of course. You’re my best friend, Y/N, I’m happy to keep a slimy chap like Prewett off your back any day.”
She launched herself forward, tackling Sebastian in a hug. “Oh, thank you! You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?”
He gave a sly smile. “‘Course I do, though it’s nice to be reminded of it now and again.”
The two sat side by side, snacking on some of the nicked food they’d stored in the Undercroft. After practicing spells for a bit, they had gotten hungry and decided to take a break. Y/N broke a roll she was holding in half, setting one part into Sebastian’s outstretched hand. It was an unspoken system between them—always sharing what they ate.
“So,” Sebastian said between bites. “We should probably discuss the details of our arrangement, shouldn’t we?”
She glared at him. “You want some sort of payment for it?”
He put his hands up in surrender. “Not at all. I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. And seeing Prewett’s humiliated face.” He smiled at the chuckle this brought out of her. “I meant things like how long we plan to ‘court’, or how we want to go about… displaying it.”
She nodded, thinking. “Well, the Yule Ball is coming up. I think it’s part of why he’s upping his game.”
He hummed in agreement. “That’s in what, three weeks, is it?”
“Precisely. I figured we could court until a few days before the ball, then ‘break it off’. That way, you could ask whoever you wanted to be your date, and I could attend with Ominis as he helps me through my devastating heartbreak, like the true friend he is.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Sensible. Speaking of Ominis, you know we’re going to have to tell him we’re faking it, don’t you?”
“Oh, absolutely. He wouldn’t believe it otherwise. He’d call it out for what it was, and it’d all crumble before it started!”
Sebastian laughed. “He’s a decent liar. And he hates Prewett too, he won’t have any qualms with it.”
A chuckle made its way past her lips as she pressed another bit of food into Sebastian’s hand. “Now, as far as the ‘displaying it’ nonsense goes…”
Sebastian nodded solemnly. “This will be the most difficult part. I’ll have to tolerate your company, won’t I?”
The shove she gave him nearly tipped him over.
“Come on now! You know I’m joking!”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s me that tolerates you , we both know that. We’ll have to do a bit more than tolerate, anyway. I don’t imagine it’ll be too much, though. Perhaps holding hands, and occasional loving embrace, that sort of thing.”
“So I’m not getting a proper snog out of you is what I’m hearing?”
This time, the shove did tip him over. “You’re nothing but an overconfident rake, Sebastian Sallow!” Even as she said it, she smiled down at him.
“I’m not, and you know it. I’m a right and proper gentleman.”
“Right and proper gentlemen don’t talk about snogging in front of young ladies.”
“You’re my best friend, Y/N, you hardly count as a lady.”
There was a slight twinge of pain in her chest as he said those words. Since when did she not count as a lady? Sure, she preferred trousers to skirts and dresses, but they were simply more practical. She could out duel any witch or wizard who stood against her, but she liked to think she kept some amount of poise while doing so. And she thought herself quite respectable, at least until she got talking to Sebastian… perhaps he had a bit of a point. Most ladies would be aghast at arranging a fake-courting situation, and talking so plainly while doing so, but it was Sebastian . He felt more of an extension of herself at times than a boy she had met just over two years ago.
Y/N was in the middle of rolling her eyes when another voice joined the conversation. “What was that about snogging? Do the two of you need a moment alone?”
She grinned at the sight of Ominis walking toward them, his wand outstretched. “Oh, thank God you’re here Ominis. I don’t know if I could have spent another moment in the hell that is Sebastian’s company.”
“If that’s really how you feel, Y/N, our plan is doomed to fail,” Sebastian said, gathering more of their nicked food to share with the new addition.
“Plan? What trouble are you trying to get me into now?” Ominis asked as he sat on the floor beside them. Sebastian pressed an apple tart into his hand.
“Oh, nothing horrible, unless you think giving Prewett a heart attack is indecent,” Sebastian said.
“As… un-fond of Prewett I am, I still need to know what’s happening before I let anything proceed. What is it?”
Y/N sighed. “Well, Ominis, as someone who shares similar sentiments about Prewett, I… needed a way to get him to stop asking to take me out. I stupidly told him I was seeing someone, and Sebastian has graciously decided to step in and be that someone. Pretend to be that someone, I guess I should say.”
Ominis frowned. “And you need my help in what way?”
“Not in any way, really. Just go with it. Confirm it if people ask. Spread rumors when possible,” Sebastian said.
Ominis thought hard. Y/N could practically see the gears turning in his head, calculating every which way things could backfire. After a few moments, he seemed to come to the conclusion that nothing could go too terribly wrong. “All right. Whatever keeps Prewett at bay.”
Y/N threw an arm around him, startling him a bit. “Thank you, Ominis.”
He chuckled. “Anything for you. Now, if only I had someone to place bets with on how long the pair of you last.”
Ominis and Sebastian walked side by side back to the Slytherin common room. Y/N had departed a while before them, needing to catch up on a bit of her homework.
“Seems like an interesting plan the two of you have conceived,” Ominis said.
“Interesting indeed. Though I do have to say, it was pretty much Y/N who conceived it,” Sebastian replied easily.
“It’ll be… fascinating to see the two of you pretend to be a couple.” Ominis sounded thoughtful.
Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, if I’m honest, there’s been times I thought the two of you might have something between you.” Ominis tilted his head to face Sebastian a little bit more. “Never certain of it, though. Should I have been certain of it?”
His frown deepened. “Are you trying to say that one of us has feelings for the other?”
Ominis shrugged. “More or less. Any truth to that?”
Sebastian found himself thinking about the thought of that. Truth be told, he hadn’t done much of it before. He enjoyed spending time with Y/N, of course. It was always fun to throw her off by saying something unexpected. What was more was how well she did the same thing back. It kept him on his toes, always letting him expect the unexpected. She was talented, too, of course. He’d never forget that first duel they had, nor the ones they fought side by side in afterwards. She was an incredible witch. Beautiful, too, though that was common knowledge among most of the students in their year. It was just a fact. A statement. Y/N was beautiful, talented, funny, and exciting. Sebastian knew all of these things–-that didn’t mean he liked her, did it?
He realized there had been a bit too much of a pause after Ominis’s question. He quickly spat out the conclusion he had drawn to. “No, Ominis. She’s my best friend, right beside you. I haven’t felt that way, and I seriously doubt she’d ever feel that way towards me. Purely platonic.”
Ominis nodded, seeming like he expected as much. “Figured. Was just curious if this whole arrangement would bring anything out of the two of you. Perhaps it’s for the best—if the two of you really did start courting, I have a feeling the very walls of Hogwarts would have their days numbered.”
“Are you saying we’d be an awful couple?”
“Awful, or perfect together. I don’t think the castle would stand a chance at your mayhem in either case.”
Sebastian chuckled before changing the subject. What he had told Ominis had been true… hadn’t it? She was his best friend. They were nothing more, never had been, and never would be.
So why was he so glad Ominis couldn’t see how flushed he’d gotten at the thought?
Y/N picked at her breakfast the next morning—she’d only eaten a couple bites of her tart before setting it back on her plate, moving her eggs around instead. She imagined this is what it felt like for those on the Quidditch teams before a match. It was only by sheer luck that none of her friends around her seemed to notice her unease; perhaps they figured she got a bad night of sleep or something. They talked animatedly to one another. Y/N tried to listen, but found herself distracted with constant glances at the door.
It was very usual for Sebastian to be late to breakfast—or at times to miss it entirely. With all his late night mischief, he tended to sleep in as much as possible before coming down at the last minute to grab some leftover pastry and rush off to class. She started to wonder if he would show at all before they had to start heading to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
As if the thought had brought him into existence, Sebastian Sallow strode through the doors of the Great Hall, Ominis trailing behind. He glanced quickly around the room before his eyes landed on Y/N, a smile appearing on his face as he walked over.
Seeing him let something settle in Y/N’s stomach. What was she so worried about? Of course he would show up for her. He always had, hadn’t he?
Sebastian arrived at Y/N’s table and didn’t hesitate to reach over her, grabbing an apple off her plate. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
Y/N scoffed. “Have you even looked outside yet? It’s a blizzard out there. I’m only grateful we don’t have to walk to Herbology in this mess.”
He shrugged. “Just because it’s snowing doesn’t mean it’s not lovely.”
A chuckle escaped her lips. “I suppose.”
He held out a hand to her, a prompting to head to class. “Come on then. Best we start our way over.”
The gesture wasn’t unusual coming from him, so she dedn’t hesitate to take his hand and stand. However, instead of letting their hands slide apart, his grip tightened as he laced his fingers between hers.
She turned away from him quickly, heading straight for the door. With their hands interlocked, he had no choice but to follow. She hoped she had turned quickly enough to keep him from seeing the blush that had crept up her cheeks. He had done that so… naturally. It stirred something inside her. She figured it was just her being impressed with his acting skills, and God knows Sebastian’s ego was already big enough—no need to let him know her astonishment of his actions to boost it further.
Once she felt she had collected herself enough, she turned her head to face him. “Did you finish your essay yet?”
He frowned. “What essay?”
“The one Professor Sharp assigned us in Veritaserum. Figured you’d find the topic interesting.”
His eyes lit up a bit. “Ah, yes, that one. Haven’t even started it, actually. Though I’m not nervous—I’d say the both of us know plenty to fill eleven inches of parchment.” He winked down at her, eliciting a smile on her lips. He was right about that. There was a period of time in their sixth year where Sebastian became determined to brew as many restricted potions as he could get the ingredients for. Veritaserum had been included in these, and the batch had resulted in an interesting night with Sebastian, Ominis, and Y/N spilling secret opinions on their classmates. “Perhaps we should brew another batch. I have a feeling Ominis isn’t telling me all the details of his letters with Anne.”
Y/N laughed and bumped shoulders with him, their interlocked hands keeping them both balanced. “Don’t torture your best friend for details about love letters, with you sister, no less.”
“Exactly! She’s my sister, I have a right to know!”
“I have the distinct feeling you wouldn’t want to know all the mushy things they write to each other.”
He rolls his eyes, but any annoyance comes across as ingenuine with the grin plastered on his face. “I’m not going to admit it, but maybe you’re right.” He leads them into the classroom, walking to the desk where Ominis already sat. Sebastian pulled out Y/N’s chair, allowing her to sit before taking his own beside her. A nice touch, she thought. Very in character.
Ominis chuckled to Y/N’s side. “The rumors have already begun. I overheard Poppy whispering about the two of you holding hands to someone, now that she’s got ahold of it, it’ll spread fast.”
Y/N grinned, meeting eyes with Sebastian beside her to see the smirk that had settled on his face. He stretched his arm above him, letting it settle on Y/N’s chair behind her. This was all too simple
The rest of the day continued on much the same. Sebastian was quick to hold her hand between classes, and with that the whispers around them became increasingly pronounced. It seemed too easy, really—Y/N supposed her close friendship to the boy leading up to this gave them some credibility as a believable pair.
By dinner, she couldn’t help but notice Leander Prewett positively fuming at the sight of them. He glared past all the tables, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from Sebastian as he helped load food onto Y/N’s plate. She had to stifle a laugh.
“God, would you look at the awful sight of him?” she said, pulling her plate in front of her. “He’s livid.”
Sebastian smiled mischievously. “It’s beautiful to behold, really.”
Ominis frowned. “Well don’t leave me out of it.”
“Oh, you’re not missing much,” Sebastian replied, finishing up with his own plate and getting ready to dive into the meal. “Just Prewett tried to curse me with his glare alone. I suppose I should be grateful he never took to nonverbal spells.”
It wasn’t long until Imelda came over to the trio, Poppy and Natty trailing close behind her. Y/N held back a wince. Besides the two boys sat on either side of her, these three were her best friends. It was inevitable that they would confront her—especially with Imelda being, well, Imelda.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, a determined look in her eye. Natty stood off to one side, looking fairly unconcerned. Poppy, on the other hand, seemed nearly fearful.
“So,” Imelda said, looking between Y/N and Sebastian. “There have been rumors.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “About me? Pray tell.”
“About the two of you. ” She gave a tilt of her head to indicate Sebastian.
“I’m right here, you know,” he said.
“So am I,” Ominis interjected. “Though go on treating me like a broken broom, if you’d like.”
Y/N held back a laugh, trying to remain serious. Imelda rolled her eyes. “Just tell us if it’s true or not. Are the two of you… courting?”
Y/N shot a quick glance at Sebastian. The slight up-ticks in the corners of his mouth were all the reassurance she needed. “That we are. I’m surprised it took you all the entire day to ask me about it.”
Poppy let herself smile a bit behind Imelda. Funny, Y/N thought. She looked pretty happy about the development.
“We were surprised we weren’t the first to know,” Natty said.
“Well, to be fair, it’s a very new thing.”
“Long time coming, though,” Ominis mumbled.
Imelda’s suspicious eyes softened. “Well, alright. We just wanted to… confirm it, I suppose. It all seems a bit out of the blue, to be fair.”
Y/N shrugged, thinking fast. “These sort of things almost always are, aren’t they?”
“Not usually,” Poppy piped up.
“Well, this one was. In any case, I promise I’ll tell you all the whole story soon enough.”
“You better, L/N, or I’ll knock you off your broom,” Imelda said, smiling.
Y/N grinned back. “If you can catch me, that is.”
Imelda chuckled, waving a quick goodbye and leaving. Natty followed, but Poppy lingered for a moment. “She means well, you know. And for the record, I think the two of you complement each other.”  After that, she scurried away.
Y/N turned back to Sebastian. Was his face a bit red? No, couldn’t be… though she admitted that last comment from Poppy had thrown her off a bit. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag.”
Sebastian smiled. “That it is. Seems like you have a story to come up with, too. I only ask you don’t make me too pathetic.”
Y/N groaned. “Bloody hell.”
When the next morning rolled around, Y/N somehow wasn’t surprised to see Sebastian standing at the entrance to the Great Hall. It seemed that his dedication to ‘courting’ her had trumped his need for a little more extra sleep. As she walked toward him, she watched his eyes scan the throng of students rushing back and forth. Something stirred in her stomach as she saw how intently he looked through everyone—the fact that his eyes were searching for none other than her.  
How wonderful to have a friend who looked forward to seeing her that much.
Finally, his eyes landed on her. He… lit up, for the lack of a better term. A smile settled onto his face, and he pushed off of the wall he’d been leaning on, standing straighter. It was only a moment later he met her by her side.
“Morning, darling,” he said, as if he’d been waiting since the day before to say it.
That silly feeling in her stomach flared up again. “Good morning. I see the weather hasn’t gotten you down.”
His grin widened. “Down? You’re joking me, you know I love the snow.”
That much is true. She’d been teasing him all winter for that very fact; he’d looked like a child when Mr. Moon had started putting out the Christmas decorations—that elation only grew as the first flakes of snow settled on the castle grounds.
“It’s beautiful, Y/N, I seriously can’t see how you dislike it,” he says, taking her hand and leading her to the table.
“I don’t dislike it, it’s just… cold,” she replied. It was an honest answer. She’d always appreciated the snow from the distance; it was quite lovely to see Hogwarts and the surrounding hamlets covered in a blanket of snow. However, she wasn’t a fan of the chill–-it greatly limited her ability to go out and explore.
Sebastian sat down beside her. “Well then, I’ll take it as my responsibility as your companion to keep you warm.”
She wished she had something witty to reply back with. Instead, a blush fought its way to her face and she frowned. “You… yes. Do that, then.” She cleared her throat, looking around. “Where’s Ominis at?”
“Common room. He’ll be down shortly, he was just sending another letter to Anne before coming.”
She nodded. “We have Herbology today.”
“That we do.” He chuckled. “Merlin, am I excited to see Prewett’s face up close.”
“I hope it’s not too close. I wouldn’t put it past him if he were to try to duel you.”
“I almost hope he does,” Sebastian said, pulling some of the food off of Y/N’s plate. She slapped his hand away, but it was already too late. “I’d love to hex him onto his arse again.”
She shot him a warning glare. “Don’t you go starting anything. Ominis would kill us both if he had to pull his strings.”
He puts his hands up in a surrender. “Any spells I cast will be in self-defense only. I promise you that.”
It’s not long after that Ominis joins them, and then they were off to class. Once again, Sebastian’s hand found Y/N’s. There was still that slight pull in her stomach, a trace of unease in his fingertips. Normal things, she was sure, to have when holding hands with your best friend.
When they arrived in Herbology, the trio set themselves up at a table. The rest of the students came piling in and Y/N distinctly ignored the piercing gaze of Leander Prewett. She felt it on the back of her neck as class began and Professor Garlick gave instructions. It lingered as Sebastian pulled the pot they would be sharing onto the table, not giving her the chance to do it herself. And as the three of them spread soil into the pot, it bore into her still, not letting up for even a moment.
She felt she was about to combust from the heat of it when she noticed Sebastian’s grin beside her. Of course he was enjoying the whole thing—she’d have been a fool to think he’d feel any differently. She lightly slaped his arm with her gloved hand.
His eyebrows raised, not even phased by the ‘attack’, if one could consider it that. “And what was that for?”
“You’re enjoying yourself entirely too much .”
“Really? I was about to step it up a notch, I feel I’m not enjoying the moment to its fullest.”
And obviously, she couldn’t help but laugh at that. She always seemed to have a weakness for his quick remarks. His grin stretched further, if possible.
“Now, my dear, allow me to gather some seeds.” His face became terribly serious. “Don’t fret, I’ll only be gone a moment.”
She wanted to roll her eyes as he left, but instead, another chuckle made its way through her. Ominis let out a sigh. “And I thought he was insufferable before the two of you started this nonsense.”
The class carried on and Y/N found herself baffled again and again by Sebastian’s antics. First he insisted on not letting her leave the table for anything, running back and forth in the classroom to gather supplies. (Ominis didn’t complain about this aspect; he was completely content letting him weave through the tables like a mad-man.) Then he pulled the bag of soil away from her. When she tried to reason with him, he rattled on about how no lovely lady like her should get her hands dirty, to which she reminded him of all of the many, many times she’d proved herself most unlady-like in that sense. He didn’t relent. And finally, when class was over, he stood faster than a blink, offering his hand to help her up—to which, she rolled her eyes and took. It wasn’t this that surprised her—no, helping her up wasn’t extreme. It wasn’t something she would have even found outside of their friendship on a normal day. What caught her off guard was the bow he bent into as she stood, and the lips that pressed lightly, so very lightly , on the back of her hand. Her eyes widened.
He really was insistent on milking every last ounce of Prewett’s agony, wasn’t he?
In the bustle of students getting up and heading to the door, she doubted that many, if any at all, had seen this supposed display of affection. Even so, a tingle shot throughout her, settling right onto her warm cheeks. It was nerves, she reasoned. She was nervous about being caught in the scandal of one such as Sebastian Sallow being so physically affectionate toward her.
But as a figure stormed out of class, she realized the action had not gone completely unnoticed—as was the intention, she was sure. Leander Prewett strode past them, ears redder than the accents on his robes.
She’d have slapped the self-satisfied smirk off of Sebastian’s face if it didn’t look so bloody good on him. You know, in a completely platonic way.
Obviously.
They walked to Potions, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice that Ominis seemed in an awfully good mood, too. “I’m assuming the tantrum-like stomping I heard leaving the class was Prewett?”
“Tantrum-like,” Sebastian echoed. “A fitting way to describe him.”
“The two of you are awful, you know that?” Y/N said. She couldn’t help but be quite pleased with the outcome as well, though.
“‘Course we know that,” Sebastian replied.
Ominis grinned. “We’re not in Slytherin for nothing. Though to be a little fair to Prewett, I myself was getting a bit nauseous in there listening to the two of you. I only kept it together knowing it’s an over-the-top ruse.”
Sebastian scoffed. “Over-the-top. Not in the slightest, my dear Ominis. You just don’t know the first thing about romance.”
Y/N made no comment, though she was fairly certain Sebastian didn’t know much more about romance, either… He was doing a decent job at pretending to know, though.
They were fast approaching the classroom, and she winced to see Leander standing in the corridor leading up to class, arms folded and leaning against the wall in a sulk. His eyes shot up when he heard their footsteps, and he glared daggers directly at Sebastian. As they approached, he stood straighter, glancing between the three of them. She could see the nerves hidden behind his eyes.
“Could I talk to you, Y/N?” His eyes narrowed at Sebastian coldly. “ Privately?”
Sebastian tensed beside her. She was well aware of his protective streak. It was as deeply rooted in him as his charm, immovable as the freckles on his face. It was a part of her dear friend she both admired and grew tiresome of. But she was (almost) always good at talking him down, wasn’t she?
She tightened her grip on his hand. This time, it was a gesture of reassurance, not any sort of display for Leander–-though it could easily be taken as such. She looked up at him. “Go ahead into class. I’ll be right there, alright?”
He took a deep breath. It shuddered a bit on the way out. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright. But if it takes more than a few minutes, I’m coming back for you.”
He let go of her hand, and she found herself missing the comfort of the contact as he and Ominis continued down the corridor. She now faced Leander alone. “What is it you wanted to speak about?”
The red-head’s frown deepened. “It… seems,” he started, speaking as if each word physically pained him. “That you and Sallow are… involved. ”
About as much as she had been expecting. “And how is that your business?”
He gaped at her, as if she dare question his involvement in her affairs. “Because I thought you were a sensible person, Y/N. I still think you are, you’re just lost in this… nonsense.”
A small flame flickered somewhere in her chest. “Nonsense, you say?”
“Alright. It’s more than nonsense. It’s complete and utter rubbish. You’re blinded by Sallow, his false charm and party tricks.” Leanders fist clenched at his side, voice growing louder. “You’re better than this. Better than him. ”
Her jaw tightened. The flicker grew, sending heat down her arms and legs. “You’ll stop talking now, if you know what’s good for you.”
“No, Y/N. It’s I who knows what’s good for you. And what isn’t good for you is that conniving, sorry prick with no life ahead of him. He’s in detention every night. He’s ambitious for nothing but trouble, bound for nothing but a penniless life and an early grave.”
She hadn’t realized she’d pulled her wand out until it was aimed squarely at the Gryffindor’s chest. A raging fire burned inside of her, aching, needing to burst in a wave of fury. She had never felt anything like it.
It surprised her how steady the words were when she spoke them, how in control she was of the fire. “You are a fraction of the man Sebastian Sallow is. You know nothing of who he is, how it’s me who is undeserving of him . I would happily live a thousand penniless lives by his side before I ever even considered wasting a mere moment with you. So I’d suggest doing the greatest kindness you have the ability to provide, and piss off.”
Leander Prewett was stunned speechless. He stared at the girl–-no, the beast stood in front of him, at the wand poised to end him, and in the wisest decision he’d ever make, fled.  
Y/N stood in the hall, just breathing for a moment. How dare he—how dare he even suggest he knew a single thing about her Sebastian? He saw only what he chose to, only what his jealousy allowed him. He was wrong.
It was a minute or two before she walked toward the classroom, still half-blind in her anger. It was this blindness that kept her from seeing the figure using a poor disillusionment charm, just a few steps down the hall.
Sebastian slipped into the classroom just after Y/N, charm dispelling as he entered the door. He saw Ominis’s head face toward them, and he’s sure he can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. It was so tangible that there was no need for sight in sensing it.
She plopped into her usual seat next to Natty, not noticing how Sebastian sat after her at his own desk, even when he had been given very specific instructions to go on ahead of her.
As for his part in the incident, he was stunned .
He didn’t think he’d ever taken a Stupefy that had affected him as much as this.
While Ominis had continued down to the classroom, Sebastian had cast a disillusionment charm over himself and hid against the wall. He was very aware that this was likely an invasion of privacy, and that Ominis was right in scoffing and rolling his eyes at the action, but he was Sebastian Sallow, for Salazar’s sake. How could he resist listening in to a conversation bound to be about him, especially when the circumstances for eavesdropping were so simple?
(There was also the fact that something could go wrong. And if it did, he couldn’t leave the girl he was supposed to be courting to fend off Prewett on her own, as capable as she was.)
He’d heard every word leave Prewett’s mouth. He’d been ready to jump out and defend his honor when Y/N had done so for him.
And what a bang-up job she’d done, hadn’t she?
The words still echoed in his head. A thousand lifetimes… the ridiculous claim that she didn’t deserve him. He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it.
Ominis leaned over to whisper, pulling Sebastian out of his head and into the reality of Sharp’s droning about their assignment. “Seems like the conversation went swimmingly. Is she mad at you for butting in?”
“I didn’t butt in,” Sebastian whispered back. “She handled herself just fine.”
“It is Y/N we’re talking about, we’ve both known she’s completely capable for years now,” Ominis said. He frowned. “She’s still angry, though, isn’t she?”
“Oh she’s fuming. ” It was true. Natsai was looking quizzically at her friend, concerned at her stiff posture and clenched jaw.
“What is it she’s mad about?”
“She—” He found himself not wanting to say it. Not wanting Ominis to read into the things she had said, make them into something they weren’t.
He didn’t want to allow himself to read into it, either.
“Prewett was being a pratt. Said he knew her better, tried to convince her he knew better than she did. She told him to piss off. ”
That was enough of the truth, wasn’t it?
Ominis seemed to think so, giving a low hum. “Serves him right.”
Y/N didn’t calm down, even when the instructions were over and she and Natty went to gather the ingredients for their potions. Sebastian kept an eye on her, watching her chop ginger with much more force than was necessary. It doesn’t look like she told Natty anything–-the poor Gryffindor looked at her friend, completely at a loss. Blimey, he might’ve thought he was looking in a mirror. Sebastian decided he better do something about the situation.
He abandoned his meager start to the assignment and strided over to Y/N’s table, approaching her from behind. “I do believe the textbook says to cut the ginger into even slices, not to mutilate it.”
She gave a small start, turning to face him. He sees just a bit of the fury drop off her shoulders as they meet eyes. She let out a sigh, looking down at the ginger and wincing. “I’ve made a mess of it, haven’t I?”
“I bit, if I have to admit it.”
She groaned. “I’m sorry, he’s just… it was infuriating.”
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your poor ginger. Let’s put it out of its misery, shall we?” He pulled out his wand, vanishing the sorry mess on her table before summoning the untouched ingredient he’d left on his desk. He set it down, smiling at her. “There. A fresh start.”
“Thank you.” He can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s more than just the ginger she’s talking about
“No, thank you.” As if it had a mind of its own, his hand found hers, giving it a light squeeze. “I quite hope he takes your advice and pisses off for the foreseeable future.”
Her mouth dropped open, but before she could say a word, he winked and walked back to his table.
The next few days went off without a hitch. Y/N and Sebastian played the part of the ideal courting couple, and none were the wiser. With each passing day, it became easier to hold hands, to lean in close and share conspiring whispers, to flirt and blush and play pretend.
(Curiously, the strange feeling in her stomach didn’t stop, as natural as these things became. Always nervous someone would see through it, she supposed.)
The rumors that had once been the very exciting topic of meals and corridor whispers turned slowly into accepted truth. There seemed to be no denying it. And as the Yule Ball loomed nearer, Y/N felt more and more at ease that she would not be asked to attend with Leander Prewett. He’d kept his distance since the Incident, as she’d taken to calling it, but felt that she’d be celebrating too soon if she thought he was done for good.
The Incident seemed not only to have an effect on Prewett. She hadn’t foreseen the consequences of Sebastian overhearing what she said, but really she didn’t think she would go back and change a single word she’d uttered. It had all been true. She knew him very well, as a friend, and she’d spend a thousand lifetimes with him, as a friend, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve him, as the bloody brilliant and completely wonderful friend he was.
Sebastian knew that.
Neither of them had spoken about it. They didn’t need to. There was nothing to address. Prewett had been stupid, Y/N had defended Sebastian, like a good friend , end of story.
So why did she still feel the weight of it whenever she saw him?
She figured it must be the leftover anger that coursed through her when she thought of Leander’s words, or the guilt that he had ever had to hear such things said about him. Yes, that was it. She wanted to reassure him. Say it straight to his face that that prat Prewett had it all wrong, and that he shouldn’t ever even consider things he said as truth. But that would have been an awkward conversation, and it was all implied anyway, so each time she thought about the Incident, she’d push it to the back of her mind.
She had been doing just that when Imelda caught her arm in the courtyard. “There you are! We’ve been trying to talk to you for ages .”
Y/N smiled at her, seeing Poppy in tow. “Oh? What about?”
Imelda rolled her eyes. “Don’t play coy, L/N. You still never told us the story about you and Sebastian. I mean, it's increasingly obvious the two of you are courting, but how? When? Why?”
“And have you kissed him yet?” Poppy added, grinning.
Y/N’s eyes went wide. “Poppy!”
The Hufflepuff smiled not-so-innocently.
Y/N shook her head in exasperation. “Look, it’s not as exciting as you both seem to think it is. We were walking together one day, he said he cared for me a bit more than friends, I said I felt the same, and here we are. And no, we haven’t kissed.” She’d thought carefully about the story she’d tell them, coming to the conclusion that a short, safe story was best. Fleshing it out with extreme detail would make it outlandish.
It was also hard for Y/N to think about how she and Sebastian might get together, for some reason. It caused that silly feeling in her stomach to turn.
Imelda frowned. “If I’m honest, I expected there to be a bit more to it. It is Sallow we’re talking about.”
Oh dear. Y/N shrugged, trying to hide any discomfort in the action. “Don’t know what to tell you. Sorry to disappoint.”
“You two have been getting along, though, haven’t you?” Poppy asked. “It seems like you are.”
“Of course we have been,” Y/N answered. “I mean, we were best friends before. Most of it feels… natural, really. Just a few added things. It’s… nice.” She was surprised that she didn’t get that uneasy feeling she normally had when telling a lie at those words.
They stopped pestering her about Sebastian (thankfully, she wasn't as good at coming up with lies on the spot as he is) and instead caught up on other things—homework, poachers, Quidditch, the usual. It was good spending some time with them. She almost didn’t notice the cold of the courtyard. Almost.  
She started shivering at some point—with just her uniform and robe, the chill was quick to settle in. The slight breeze didn’t help, either, whipping away any warmth before she could keep it.
“And just what are you doing out here without a proper coat?” a voice said from behind her. She felt a bit warmer already. Sebastian smirked from beside her, looking over her shivering frame.
“I wasn’t planning on spending a lot of time here, we just… happened to meet,” Y/N explained.
He gave a playful scoff. “Ridiculous. Here, take this,” he said, removing the scarf from around his neck. Her hand opened to grab it, but… there was no need. Instead, he stood directly in front of her, passing the scarf over her shoulders and tying it snuggly without a word. He ran a hand against it, smoothing it out and pushing her hair out of her face. “There we go. Color suits you pretty nicely, too.”
He seemed very satisfied with his handiwork, taking a small step back to admire it. There were several moments of silence until Y/N realized she should probably say something.
“Um, thank you. That’s… much better now.” She was in fact, very warm now.
He chuckled. “I’ll see you later, darling.” And with that, he left.
She didn’t feel the chill at all anymore. Her stomach fluttered with that silly feeling, and her head spun with the scent of old parchment and fireplaces.
The snow fell in gentle flakes around her, and she realized it really was beautiful when she could feel the cold.
The Yule Ball was now only ten days away. It had come up faster than Sebastian thought it would—very recently, three weeks had seemed like a lifetime. Now each day went faster than the last.
With the winter chill growing ever stronger, Y/N had taken to wearing Sebastian’s scarf constantly. She could have swapped her own scarf out and returned his own, but… she hadn’t. He reminded himself that it added a very believable level to their act. It was physical proof that they were tied together, present even when they weren’t standing side by side. When they were apart, Sebastian sometimes thought of her somewhere off in the castle, his scarf tied around her neck, and Ominis would have to tap his shoulder out of his distant thoughts.
He wasn’t really sure what that was all about.
But right now, Y/N was by his side, sitting in the grass as they listened to Professor Garlick’s lecture. Herbology was mostly a hands-on event, but as they progressed toward their N.E.W.T.s, there were some plants to study that even Professor Garlick hesitated to put in front of them. Today she had ushered them outside, insisting that if they had to listen to her ramble on, they should at least feel the sun while doing so.
The snow had melted over the last couple of days, leaving the ground drier than it had been all winter. Sebastian missed the white blanket that had coated the trees and fields. He hoped it would snow again before Christmas. While the sun was out, it was still rather cool. Which was why, even in her coat and scarf ( his scarf), Y/N had begun to shiver.
Sebastian chuckled. “Still cold, are we?”
She frowned, giving him a small glare. “What gave it away?” She looked back at Professor Garlick. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through class without turning into a block of ice.”
“I’ve got an idea. Come here,” he said, scooting closer to her. Before she could protest, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her softly into his side.
He wasn’t sure what had made him do it. Instinct? His natural and irresistible flirtatious charm? Who knows. But as soon as he had done it, the weight of it settled on him. Other things had become normal. But this, Y/N pressed against his chest, where she could likely feel his rapidly beating heart, this was new. His body stiffened at the realization. Was this ok? Had he gone too far?
For a moment, she also seemed surprised—but only for a moment. He felt her body relax a bit against his, allowing herself to lean into his warmth. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and did the same.
Class continued, and Y/N stopped shivering. (Sebastian found this very fulfilling.) He was hyper aware of her breathing; he’d never heard it so close for so long. Over and over again he found his gaze drifting down to look at her, eyes unconsciously following the slope of her nose and curve of her lips. As soon as he’d realize he was staring, he’d whip his head forward again, begging himself to keep it that way. It never seemed to work.
After what felt like eternity, class ended. Y/N moved to stand, but Sebastian was quicker, jumping to his feet to offer his hand. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eye. She laid back on the ground, reaching up for his hand lazily. “The class really took it out of me. I’m not sure I can go on.”
Sebastian feigned annoyance. “Are you trying to take advantage of my kindness?” He grabbed her hand anyway, attempting to pull her up. She acted like a limp doll. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she slumped forward when he finally pulled her into an upright sitting position. She stuck her tongue out at him. Leaning down, he grasped her other hand, forcing her to her feet. Still halfway committed to her game, she rose off balance, and to steady her, Sebastian placed a hand on her waist.
When she finally stood straight, he noticed how close the action had made them.
He was still holding her hand, still gripping her waist. He could feel her breath on his lips—it made his heart lurch. For a split second, he could only think of getting closer, seeing how not only her breath felt, but her lips against his—
His hands dropped to his side and he took a large step back. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t see the expression she was wearing. He didn’t know what he wanted to find.
So instead, he cleared his throat. “Lot of work to get you on your feet. Come on, those potions won’t brew themselves.”
Smooth, Sebastian.
Ominis Gaunt was no idiot. In fact, he fancied himself pretty sharp, especially when it came to certain topics.
One of these topics happened to be Sebastian Sallow.
He didn’t need working eyes to see that something was changing . Well, less changing, really, and more uncovering what had been there all along. He could hear it in the tone of Sebastian’s voice when he spoke to her, the way it went all soft. He felt it in the way Sebastian froze in place every time she entered a room. There was this small stupid sigh he’d let out when he couldn’t walk her to her next class, a lingering frown that wormed its way into his speech every time she wasn’t around.
They were little things. But they were there.
And now, after that Herbology class, his friend walked beside him in silence . It was something he had scarcely beheld.
Ominis wasn’t completely sure—not yet. But if he’d hazard a guess, he’d say his best friend had fallen in love—he just didn’t know it yet.
It finally hit her when she realized she missed his smell on his scarf.
She’d worn it every day since he gave it to her—it was cold out, why wouldn’t she? Why not appreciate the gift her friend had given her?
Why not take the chance to always feel he was near her, even when he wasn’t?
Over the days, the scent of fireplaces, old parchment, and a trace of his cologne faded away.  She sat in her room and took a deep breath, realizing in that moment that she had spent every moment she could basking in it. It was in the absence that she finally figured out that silly feeling in her stomach. And now that she had a name for it, it was painful.  
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way for a friend—her best friend . She wasn’t supposed to be excited when he held her hand, wasn’t supposed to feel the burn of his hold on her waist, wasn’t supposed to wish he had closed the distance and kissed the life out of her .
She wasn’t supposed to be in love with him.  
Because that’s what it had been all along, hadn’t it? She couldn’t even trace back to the beginning of the feeling, it was like it had been there all along, lingering, waiting to be discovered.
Now that she had, she worried it would destroy her.
There was no chance he felt the same—he would never have agreed to her stupid plan if those feelings had existed. He would have said something a long time ago. Perhaps he would have kissed her in Herbology.
Where was she supposed to go from here? How could she continue with their awful, awful plan, longing in every moment that it was the truth?
How could she give up the chance to pretend it was real, if only for a few days more?
She wouldn’t ruin this. The plan. Their friendship. She would continue on, and when the day came for it to end, she’d be heartbroken, and pretend to be that damn good at acting . She’d get over it, and she’d never let anyone know that she had ever been in love with Sebastian Sallow.
Ominis bounded into the Great Hall, which was a distinctly un-Ominis thing to do. Sebastian raised an eyebrow as his friend approached, grinning ear to ear. “Have you gotten a letter from Anne?”
“I haven’t checked my post yet,” Sebastian answered as Ominis sat in one of the empty seats beside him. Y/N hadn’t come down yet, which was a distinctly un-Y/N thing to do. Blimey, was everyone off today?
“Then I’ll do the pleasure of sharing the good news myself. She’s been feeling well these last several days, and if it keeps up, she plans to come to the Yule Ball!”
Sebastian understood his friend’s good mood immediately—his own heart soared at the thought of his sister enjoying herself and dancing the night away, and didn’t even feel bothered that it would likely be in Ominis’s arms (he had given his approval, after all). “Really? Have you asked her then, officially?”
“Of course. I’ll be right beside her, Sebastian. You won’t have to worry.”
Sebastian patted his oldest friend on the shoulder, grinning right back at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“This does leave a bit of a complication, though, doesn’t it?” Ominis said.
Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”
His friend sighed. “I was supposed to be going with Y/N after the two of you broke it off… it wasn’t official, or anything, but—”
“Don’t worry about it, Ominis. She wouldn’t want you to miss going with Anne.” Sebastian thought for a moment. “It is rather close to the ball, anyway. Perhaps it would be best if I went with her. Left the ‘breaking it off’ until afterwards.” Why did that thought make his heart beat faster? “If she’ll have me, of course.”
A strange expression crossed Ominis’s face. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Why don’t you ask her once she arrives?”
“I will.”
For some reason, it became infinitely harder to eat after that conversation. Each bite of Sebastian’s toast had lost its taste, no matter how much butter he put on it. His pumpkin juice was the same.
What if she said no? What if she was disappointed to go with him, her longing lying elsewhere?
And why did he care so much if it did?
He pushed those thoughts aside as she arrived in the Great Hall, uniform slightly rumpled and hair askew. Had she stayed up too late studying?
In any case, he had a question he needed to ask. He rose to meet her, unable to wait for her to sit at the table. She started a bit, looking up at him.
“Morning, Sebastian,” she said.
“Morning. I had… a question to ask you.”
She tilted her head. He wondered if she heard the worried tone in his voice and quickly cleared his throat, trying to get it to leave.
“What’s the question?”
“Well, you see, there’s a bit of great news, and a little bad news that comes with this question.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Anne is feeling well–well enough that she plans to attend the Yule Ball.”
Her eyes lit up. (He was glad he got to tell her, just so he could see that.) “That’s wonderful! I’ll be so excited to see her! What’s the bad in all of this?”
“She plans to attend with Ominis, who was going to be your date.”
She shakes her head. “That’s alright. I would never want to come between the two of them, I can stay in that night. Be heartbroken, and all that.”
Sebastian shifted on his feet, nervously. His arms came up to cross over his chest in a protective gesture. “But that’s where my question comes in. I thought—and, please feel free to say no to this—that we could go together? Most people would be expecting it anyways, and we could push off the end of our courting a bit, I wouldn’t mind. And it would keep Prewett trying to ask you last minute, I wouldn’t put it past—”
“Sebastian,” Y/N said, smiling. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll look forward to going with you.”
He held back a wide grin. “Good. I figured it would beat sitting in your dormitory being miserable.”
She laughed, and something shifted inside him. “That it will.”
And with that, he took her hand and led her to the table, his smile refusing to be hidden any longer.
The week leading up to the Yule Ball was a frenzy. Students were restless in class, whispering about who was going with who, figuring out if someone didn’t have a date yet, making plans on buying dresses and robes and discussing how to style hair. By the time the last class was out, a mere three days before the dance, the professors were sick of it. There was an excitement in the air—it was difficult not to get swept up into it.
It was inevitable, Y/N realized, that she wound up in the dress shop in Hogsmeade. Imelda, Poppy, and Natty were with her, all trying to find dresses of their own. Poppy had settled on a lovely gown with a light floral print. Natty found a deep maroon one, accented with flecks of gold–-the perfect dress for a proud Gryffindor. Imelda was set on a navy dress, a little less fancy than some of the other ones, insisting she needed to be able to move properly to dance.
Y/N, on the other hand, was at a loss. She felt like she had tried at least a dozen gowns on and hated every single one. She was nervous—more than she’d like to admit. She knew Sebastian didn’t feel the same for her as she did him, but she still wanted to put her best self forward. And part of that meant the perfect dress.
She sighed as the shopkeeper put away yet another reject—this one a frilly pink number than Y/N had nearly vomited on. She buried her face in her hands. “It’s hopeless.”
Poppy came to her side. “Of course it isn’t! We just have to keep looking!”
“What about this one?” Natty asked, pulling a dress forward for them to view. The Gryffindor had a proud glint in her eye, as if she already knew she had won. “I’m sure he’ll love the color.”
That much was sure to be true. It was a deep emerald green, one that Y/N thought would compliment Sebastian’s lovely brown hair nicely. She blushed at the thought, looking closer at the dress. “I can try it on and see.”
As the shopkeeper helped lace up the back, Y/N knew before looking in the mirror that this was the dress she would wear. It was a simple, but a little scandalous—the neckline allowed her collarbones and tops of her shoulders to be put on display, and the short flowing sleeves showed off her arms. It was lovely. She felt lovely.
When she was dressed, her friends grinned at her. “If you don’t get that dress, I’ll force you into it,” Imelda said.
“No need for force,” Y/N said. “I love it.”
She could only hope Sebastian loved it, too—even if it was just as a friend.
Sebastian’s fingers drummed on the table as he stared at the ground of the Undercroft. Ominis gave an annoyed hum. “If you don’t stop that tapping, I may have to blast your fingers off.”
He frowned at his friend, but stopped his tapping. “You act like I killed your puffskein.”  
“If I had a puffskein, and you killed it, I promise I’d act much worse. ”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, trying to read the book on the table in front of him. The words had no meaning to him.
“You’re tapping again.”
Sebastian groaned. “I can’t help it.”
Ominis raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t used to get so antsy without seeing her all day.”
“Y/N’s been gone for hours . Aren’t you a little concerned?”
“She’s dress shopping, Sebastian. I hardly think that’s an event to worry over.”
Sebastian pouted, arms crossed to keep from drumming the table.
“I didn’t say who her was, by the way.”
His head shot over to look at Ominis. “What do you mean?”
“I never mentioned who you were antsy about not seeing. Could have been Anne. Could have been Professor Weasley, for all the context there was. But you thought of Y/N. ” Ominis smiled to himself. “I wonder if it means what I think it means.”
Sebastian swallowed thickly. “And what exactly do you think it means?”  
He shrugged. “That you love her.”
It was like a fire ignited inside his chest. “What are you—why would—I don’t— ”
“With that reaction, I rescind my previous statement.” Ominis grinned. “It’s no longer what I think it means. It’s what I know it means.”
“You don’t know anything, Ominis. I’ve told you before, she's my best friend, I don’t…” he trailed off. He couldn’t say he didn’t.
“Are you quite certain of that?” Ominis closed the book he’d been tracing his wand over with a gentle thud . “Let’s review the facts before we come to a conclusion, dear friend. You’re nervous about the dance tomorrow.”
“It’s a ball, why wouldn’t I be–”
“Hush now, Sebastian. You’re going to listen to me for once in your life. You’re nervous because of her . Think back, is there anyone else you would have asked to the ball?”
Of course there bloody wasn’t. But that was a rule Sebastian made for himself, wasn’t it? Not to think about it? Not to let his heart race, his days revolve around her. Not to admit what these things meant.
“You’re insufferable when she’s gone—and believe me, I know the difference between normal Sebastian and insufferable Sebastian. You trusted her from the moment you saw her. You’d do anything for her, including torturing yourself by going along with this ridiculous scheme of hers. You lie to yourself, again and again, and for what? To protect her? To protect yourself? You love her, Sebastian.”
Sebastian held his head in his hands. He’d put up so many barriers, so many walls around that truth, that he felt himself crumbling. He couldn’t love Y/N, not because she wasn’t worthy of it, not because he didn’t, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of living without her. That was torture. That was insufferable.
The walls had been demolished. The rules all broken. The truth was out there now, spoken into existence by Ominis, and as much as Sebastian longed to put it back in the careful little corner he’d made for it, he couldn’t.
He was supposed to deny every word Ominis said. He was supposed to push these things aside and lie and go back to the way things were. But instead, his voice came out small, uneven, and raw.
“What am I going to do, Ominis?”
For all the snark he gave, Ominis truly cared for his friend. At the sound of his weak voice, he placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Telling her would be a good start.”
Sebastian gave a humorless laugh. “As if that wouldn’t ruin everything.”
“I seriously doubt admitting you care for her deeply would result in her hating you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ominis said. “If she had the capability to hate you, I feel you would have crossed that line long ago.”
“Which is exactly why she could never feel the same.”
Ominis sighed. “Sebastian, throughout everything, she has always been right at your side. I’d say that loyalty reflects feelings a bit deeper than friendship on her part.”
Sebastian didn’t have a reply to that. Admitting to Ominis, to himself, the feelings he had for Y/N had been challenge enough. To consider that Y/N might feel the same… It was too much. Ominis seemed to recognize that. “Look, just… think about it, alright? Go to the ball with her tomorrow. Let yourself enjoy it. Stop acting for one night, and see how it goes.”
Ominis gave him a pat on the shoulder, then rose to his feet. “I’m going to the dormitory. Anne is arriving tomorrow; it’s best if we both get our sleep.”
Sebastian scoffed as his friend left. As if he’d sleep at all after any of that.
The ball was only an hour away. After greeting Anne, Natty, Poppy, and Imelda had whisked Y/N away to begin getting ready. At first, Y/N didn’t understand why so much time was necessary—but as the minutes ticked away, she found herself nervously scrambling to pin her hair. They had all settled themselves in the Room of Requirement, figuring it was the perfect space for all of them to prepare. The other three girls had left just minutes ago, rushing off to see the other girls their year, and Y/N couldn’t help but admire their lovely gowns.
As she was leaving that morning, Y/N had hastily explained to Anne how to get to the room; she could only hope her instructions were clear. Evidently, they were—Anne came bursting into the room, bright smile on her face. She held a dress in her arms. Y/N tore her stare away from the mirror in front of her to turn to the girl. “Anne! You’ve made it! You haven’t left much time to get ready, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, settling in front of the mirror beside her. “But I couldn’t tear myself away. It was wonderful seeing Ominis again.”
“I’m sure he made up for the hardship of seeing your brother,” Y/N joked.
Anne laughed. “And then some. Sebastian left a while ago to get ready. I’m glad he’s taking you, seeing as I stole your intended companion. Quite the plan the three of you had, hm?”
Y/N froze with a pin clutched between her fingers. “Ominis told you about it?”
“He did. I have to say, I’m sorry I missed seeing Prewett’s reaction. From what I’ve heard, you gave him quite the talking to.” Anne turned to the mirror, beginning the work on her own hair.
“O-oh? Well, um, yes, I suppose I did,” Y/N said, trying to distract herself by looking at her reflection. “I do appreciate Sebastian’s help with all of it.”
“He’s horrid, but he’s always there when it truly matters.” Anne glanced over at her. “Your hair looks perfect, why do you keep fidgeting with it?”
Y/N shrugged, trying to maintain a look of innocence. “I just want to look my best.”
“Nervous, are we?”
She froze. “W-why would I be nervous?”
Anne gasped, reaching out to grab Y/N’s arm. “You are nervous! Please, you must tell me, do you fancy him?”
“That… that’s ludicrous, Anne, he’s my best friend, you know that.”
The brunette smirked, and it looked much too like her brother—mischievous glint and all. “I won’t tell him.”
“I…”
Oh, what was the point? Why try to keep it in any longer—it was bound to drive her mad, might as well let someone know why she was doomed for an asylum.
“I do fancy him, Anne. In fact, I fancy him so much, I hardly know what to do with myself.” She sighed heavily. “It’s maddening . I’ve only realized it recently, though I now know I’ve felt this way for much longer than that. And now, with this idiotic plan—” She held her face in her hands. “Well, it’s easy to see how things… how it could be , if he only felt the same.”
She was too busy wallowing in her misery to see Anne’s grin widen with her words. “Perhaps tonight will change things.”
Y/N groaned. “I doubt that. He only asked me because he wanted to make sure Prewett didn’t.”
“And why would he want to make sure Prewett didn’t?”
“Because… because he’s a good friend, Anne.”
Anne shrugged. “I’m going to ask you to do something tonight, Y/N. Oh, quit groaning like you’ve been cursed, it’s not difficult —keep an open mind. That’s all. Try to see what’s there, and not what you’ve been so focused on avoiding. Let yourself be happy tonight.” Anne turned back to the mirror, finishing up her hair. “I won’t push you any more on the subject as long as you try to do that.”
Y/N didn’t think she had much choice but to accept.
As they walked to the ballroom, Y/N could only repeat the words don’t trip over and over again in her mind. Anne had gotten ready quickly, and she looked stunning in her blue dress. Her health had improved greatly in the past few months—a nurse and St. Mungos had been experimenting with different potions to ease her pain, and it had been working. Her face was no longer as thin, and Y/N could finally see her as the trouble-making girl she had always heard about.
Together, they turned the corner that led to the top of the stairs. Ominis and Sebastian stood at the bottom, speaking to one another. They hadn’t noticed them yet. The sight of Sebastian’s well-fitted black suit left her a bit breathless. She took Anne’s hand as they began down the stairs. Sebastian looked up.
If she thought she had been breathless a moment ago, now she was simply drowning . There was a softness in his eyes that traced over her, looking down at her gown and then back up to her face. For a moment, he seemed too stunned to move.  And then, he smiled.  
Oh, God, Y/N. Really don’t trip now.  
He walked with Ominis to the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. He took a deep breath, she thought, and then… relaxed. Something about his disposition changed, ever so slightly.
Her hand slid into his as he offered it. “I can’t begin to describe how wonderful you look.”
His words made her heart race. “You clean up nicely yourself.”
He grinned, holding up his arm to escort her. “Shall we?”
She looped her arm through his. Anne and Ominis followed them. Y/N smiled. “They look happy together, don’t they?” she said softly.
Sebastian hummed in agreement. “There’s a part of me that thinks I should disapprove, but really, I couldn’t ask for someone better for my sister.”
The ballroom was decked ceiling to floor in Christmas decor. Floating lights twinkled through the air, making Y/N stare in in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” Sebastian said quietly. She turned to face him, his own head swiveling away from her. Around them, couples were preparing to dance. He cleared his throat. “May I take this dance?” he said in an overly posh voice, bowing to her.
She laughed. “Careful, you’re sounding a bit like Ominis there.”
He grinned before taking her hand, leading her to the floor. A wave of nerves came over her—she wasn’t much of a dancer. Sebastian seemed to notice this. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you step on my feet. For long.”
She hit him on the shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he brought her into position, stepping closer to her. His free hand came to settle on her waist. He held it softly—she could barely feel the weight of it. It wasn’t hesitant, but… gentle. It was careful. She brought her own hand up to his shoulder—only then did she realize how close they truly were.
She could have counted every freckle on his face—and wouldn’t have minded the time it took to do so. His lashes were longer than she remembered. And his eyes—had they always had those flecks of green in them?
The music started, and he began to lead her in a dance.
Any nerves she had felt faded away once she realized how competent of a dancer Sebastian was. He led her effortlessly, bringing her in and out of twists and spins with ease. She found herself getting lost in the motions; it was rather like a duel, in some ways. Her awareness of her body was heightened, having to be ready to react to each move Sebastian made. She and Sebastian had proven themselves to be excellent dueling partners—why would dancing have been any different?
He pulled her into the basic position as the song shifted from one to another. This one was slower, less complex. It allowed them to stay face to face. Y/N grinned. “You never told me you could dance.”
He smirked a bit. “You never asked. My parents taught Anne and I when we were young. Thought it would only be proper for us to know, they at least tried to raise a gentleman.”
She chuckled. “Their efforts have been noticed. Although, it does make me wonder what other secrets my Sebastian might be hiding from me.”
His eyebrows raised. “Oh? Your Sebastian, is it?”
Her mouth opened quickly and then closed. A blush fought its way to her face. “I… This is about you and your secrets, Sebastian. Don’t try to change the subject.”
He laughed. “All in due time, my Y/N .” He didn’t give her the time to reply, pulling her into a quick spin that left her dizzy.
Several more songs came and went, each leaving the pair more restless than the last. It was only with great hesitation that Y/N asked to stop for a drink, thoroughly enjoying the exhilaration of it all. Sebastian led her to a table, returning a moment later with Butterbeer for each of them. Y/N sipped at it eagerly.
“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, don’t they?” Y/N said, watching Imelda dance stiffly with the Ravenclaw boy she had come with. As well as she flew, she didn’t move nearly as well on the ground. However, this fact didn’t keep her from smiling and laughing as she danced.
Sebastian nodded from beside her. “It is a bit crowded, though, don’t you think?”
She couldn’t help but agree. The room was nearly stifling. “It is a bit warm.”
“Then let’s go somewhere to cool off for a bit.” He smiled down at her, twinkle in his eye.
“Oh? Do you have something in mind?” she asked with a tilt of the head.
“You’ll see in just a moment.”
He led her out of the ballroom, and even the hallway alone gave her some fresh air she desperately needed. But they didn’t stop there. Instead, he dragged her through hallways and up staircases (and she didn’t even care how far it was—she’d go anywhere with him) until finally, they were at the top of the Astronomy tower.
The cool air hit her skin as she took deep, appreciative breaths. It had been a while since she had been up here—she hadn’t pursued a N.E.W.T. on the subject. The view was astonishing—how had she forgotten it?
Sebastian sat on the ground, overlooking the world around them. He patted the ground beside him, a clear indication to join him.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been up here,” she said, sitting. The moon was dancing in and out of the clouds, its pale light reflecting off of the Black Lake below them.
“I still sneak up here sometimes, to think.”
“Isn’t that what the Undercroft’s for?”
He smiled. “Sure. But sometimes a little risk of getting caught makes things a bit more worth it. Besides, the Undercroft has nothing to this view.”
She hummed in agreement. The heat of the ballroom had disappeared by now, and she found herself starting to shiver in the cold winter air. At the very first trace of this, Sebastian removed his coat, leaning over to wrap it around her shoulders. She was grateful the moon had hidden behind a cloud, concealing the redness in her face. Old parchment and fireplaces. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” He laid back on the ground, staring up at the sky above. “I’m going to be sore until next Tuesday with all that dancing we did.”
She fell back, laying beside him. “Maybe that’s their plan. Tire us all out at the beginning of the break so we don’t have energy to cause any mischief.”
He snorted. “You really think a lack of energy is enough to stop me?”
“Absolutely not. But perhaps the professors underestimated you.”
“Then I’ll have to show them how wrong they are then, won’t I?” He shifted, bringing one arm up behind his neck, resting his head on it. The other—the one next to her— stayed stretched out by his side.
She mirrored his position. “Don’t go too far. Ominis might have your head if he has to save you from expulsion. Again. ”
“He’ll forgive me. He always does.”
It was then she finally felt the heat of his gaze. She turned her head to look at him, meeting his eyes. How long had he been staring at her? There was a softness there—one that had been there all evening. She hadn’t realized it until then, but it dawned on her that the uneasiness, the fear that she had felt before the ball, had disappeared completely from the moment he smiled at her. It occurred to her that she should do something with that courage. She looked him right in the eye, a voice whispering in her mind— tell him. Just tell him you love him.
But he looked away, back up into the clouds. She let out a small sigh, doing the same. Was it really all so hopeless?
A warmth overtook her fingertips as Sebastian took her hand in his. Their fingers intertwined. She could feel the calluses of his thumb brush against her knuckle.
“It’s snowing,” he said softly, barely more than a whisper.
It was. The flakes came down slowly in fluttering paths that made her head spin as she stared up at them. They caught the moonlight, flickering just like the lights in the ballroom.
“It is,” she said. “And you were right. It really is lovely.”
She half expected some witty remark, a Sebastian-esque reply of obviously , he’s always right.
But instead, he just tightened his grip on her hand and watched the snow fall around them.
Four days. That’s how long it had been since the ball, since something had shifted.
Y/N didn’t know how to explain it–-her and Sebastian hadn’t spoken about that night, yet the weight of it was felt in every moment they spent together. They both continued on, pretending to be more than friends, while toeing that very line in reality. The first day or so, this shift had given her hope. Perhaps Sebastian did feel the same. He had held her hand without the world watching. He had looked at her with that softness. It had to mean something, didn’t it?
But the days continued to pass and nothing else changed. If they were still following the initial plan, they were supposed to break the whole thing off any day now. And yet… neither of them had brought it up.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t keep living with this in-between thing, caught between a blissful lie and a heartbreaking truth. With every passing hour, it felt heavier and heavier. The words between them piled up. She worried she would soon drown in them.
They were in the courtyard when it finally happened. With the Christmas break, most students had returned home—the quiet wouldn’t last long, though. They would all be back for class the next day. Maybe the thought of the coming hustle and bustle is what drove Sebastian to speak. Y/N had cleared off a bench for the pair of them to sit at, snow lazily falling around them.
“What are we doing?”
Her eyebrows furrowed at his question. “I thought we came out here to enjoy the snow. Isn’t that what we planned on?”
He shook his head, sighing. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I think we both know that’s not what I’m trying to talk about.”
Oh. Oh. “I… I’m not sure, Sebastian. If… if you want to break it off before everyone gets back, I understand. It would cause less of a stir that way.” I don’t want to break it off. I want to start over. I want to do it right this time around.
“You really want to break it off? After everything?” Where had that softness in his eyes gone?
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sebastian. Wasn’t that the plan?” Why was she getting angry at him? If he felt the same thing she did, why couldn’t he just say it?
“That damn plan. Is this really all that’s about?” His voice rose in volume. “Still some stupid ploy to keep Prewett away?” He stood up from the bench, moving to pace in front of her.
“I…” She faltered. She watched his movements, back and forth, the way his brow furrowed and his lips fell down into a frown. “I don’t know, Sebastian. Maybe this was all too much to ask from you, but you’re my best friend and I—”
He interrupted her with a scoff. “ Friend. Don’t you know how it kills me to hear you say that?” He turned to face her, eyes aflame. “Since that bloody ball, every time I’ve even thought about you in that way, it tears me to bits. Each time I look at you, all I see is that night in the Astronomy tower, you, and the snow in your hair. It took everything in me not to kiss you that night, don’t you know that?”
She swore she could hear each snowflake hit the ground in the silence that followed. “You… you wanted to kiss me?” Her voice was timid. “Why?”
“Because I love you, Y/N. That’s why.”
And there it was.
Like a dam bursting, the truth poured out. “You asked me to help you with Prewett, and of course I agreed. You’re everything to me, why would I not help you? But then I realize, well I realize it’s you, and it’s always been you. I want it to be real, Y/N. Every last bit of it. I want—”
He hadn’t processed her jumping up from the bench until her lips were pressed against his in a short kiss. He didn’t even have time to close his eyes before she pulled away. Her hand still held his cheek.
He gaped at the girl in front of him. “I… I want… what was I saying?”
She smiled— really smiled, one of those ones done more with the eyes than the mouth. “I'm pretty sure you were telling me that you love me. You kept going on about it, though, so I thought I’d interrupt to say I love you, too.”
He didn’t waste another moment before kissing her. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer than she ever thought possible. Her own hand skimmed across his cheek and then on the back of his neck, and goodness, was his hair as soft as it looked . The other hand held tightly onto the front of his coat—she swore it was the only thing keeping her on the planet.
It was him who broke the kiss, and she instinctively leaned forward to chase after his lips. He chuckled, pressing his forehead on hers. “I’ve had a thought,” he said, breathless. “I think I’d like to court you, if you’re interested.”
She laughed as he kissed the corner of her lips. “We’ve gone a bit out of order, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t care less,” he said, moving to kiss her again.
The last coherent thought she could make was that the snow made for a very, very lovely morning.
When the students all arrived the next day to continue classes, no one paid much attention to Y/N L/N and Sebastian Sallow. Old news. An obvious pairing, looking back at it. No one really cared that she wasn’t just sporting a Slytherin scarf around her neck, but a green sweater that was much too big on her.To most, there was no difference in the grins on their faces, the excitement in their voices.  Well, no one except Ominis.
When Sebastian took a seat beside him, Ominis chuckled. “Seems I was right. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, but his wide grin countered any annoyance he might have felt. “Don’t start.”
As Y/N sat beside him, giving a quick kiss for good morning, he thought that maybe it was ok that Ominis was right every once in a while.
A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed this! I definitely had a lot of fun writing it. This is my first work with Sebastian, and I’m very much looking forward to writing more! I have plans for a few mores oneshots and a series, so stay tuned for those! Thanks for reading :)
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ihatehomework · 1 month
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yall i miss jily😭😭😭 not like its gone but like the marauders used to be so happy sunshine gryffindor vibes. but also i feel like we collectively all forget how much james potter HATED slytherin. idk i also think that yes death eaters were humans BUT they also killed so many people like are we forgetting that barty crouch jr literally tortured alice and frank longbottom he is at fault for neville growing up without his parents😭 i genuinely think that people forget that evan, barty etc. actually killed people and killed people who were probably friends with the marauders. ik that everyone deserves a second chance but seriously???? do you actually think that the rosiers were good people and didn't hate and discriminate against muggleborns??? NOT EVERYONE HAS A TRAGIC BACKSTORY IDK SOME OF THEM ARE JUST EVIL. the way everyone defends evan rosier (love his character but i have beef with the way he gets away with being a death eater later on) but snape, who i absolutely detest, hate and think should have died earlier, who also actually did something that was not evil in his lifetime, is the most hated marauders character like????? and the black sisters???? yes love a complex female character but are we seriously trying to redeem bellatrix? do we not remember WHAT SHE SCARED ON HERMIONE LIKE WHAT. and love the newer marauders fandom but everyones so emo and depressed this is supposed to be FUN. also the characters feel so ooc. everytime i see casanova remus lupin im like 'huh thats supposed to be sirius and james???' love remus but my boy aint rizzing anyone up hes a shy af introvert. and jegulus is so cute but remember that james is #no.1slytherinhater and he was absolutely smitten with lily evans FROM THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. REMEMBER WHEN JILY WAS THE BACKBONE OF THE MARAUDERS? like they ate fr. this became a whole ass paragraph damn i did not know i had so much to say about this. i can lowkey already sniff the comments or thoughts saying 'oh let us have our fun its just a story' im not stopping you this is just my opinion. 'oh none of this is actually proven' please give me a break😭🙏 like most of the source material goes against the fandoms perception of the marauders. 'fuck jkr we'll do what we want' youve basically just made 10 million ocs and give them names of characters like im eating up all the marauders content but genuinely can we go back to the happier times??
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kiss-my-azkaban · 9 months
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A Cursed Child Theory: Albus was sorted into Slytherin because Scorpius was.
HEAR ME OUT OKAY!!
The facts:
The sorting hat will take your wishes into account if you feel strongly enough
Albus felt very strongly about not wanting to be in Slytherin
The hat wasn't sure at first: "He puts his hat on ALBUS’s head – and this time he seems to take longer – almost like he too is confused."
So why was he sorted into Slytherin?
Because Scorpius was sorted into Slytherin, and Scorpius asked him if he wanted to be called Al or Albus.
We know our boy hates people calling him Al.
We know he feels an intense pressure to be who his family wants him to be.
Scorpius' first instinct was to ask him what he wanted to be called. In Albus' eyes, Scorpius was the first person in his life to put his wishes first. PLUS, we can only assume that after the scene cuts the two had the time of their little lives chatting on that train journey.
So when Scorpius was sorted into Slytherin, a little subconscious part of Albus' brain went "if he's in Slytherin, it's okay if I am too" and that's why the hat decided Slytherin.
In the first alternate universe (in the original script) he's in Gryffindor. Why? There's no Rose to force him to try and make a friend on the train, therefore no meeting with Scorpius, therefore he gets put in Gryffindor because Slytherin now has no redeeming qualities to him.
Scorpius' kind lil soul is the reason Albus Potter was put in Slytherin.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
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sideprince · 4 months
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Eileen Prince
I'm relentlessly curious about how a witch from Slytherin, a house that values cunning and ambition on paper, and bloodlines/nobility in its culture, ended up living in a muggle slum.
Unfortunately for me, she's a barely mentioned character written by an author who consistently fails to portray female characters with depth or dimension. The women in Harry Potter are portrayed as either maternal or villains, or, in Ginny Weasley's case, as redeemed by their masculine traits (because Rowling's Thatcher era feminism dictates that equality for women = emulating patriarchal ideas of manhood). About as much as you can expect from an author who's as unable to acknowledge the personhood of trans women as she is to write women as actual people. This leaves a lot of room for interpreting or delving into what Eileen Prince's life may have looked like, and how that would have affected her son's development.
There are three direct mentions of Eileen in the text :
“The picture showed a skinny girl of around fifteen. She was not pretty; she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Underneath the photograph was the caption: Eileen Prince, Captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones Team.”
HBP Ch. 25
“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she’d given birth to a" “ — murderer,” spat Harry.
HBP ch. 30
“Harry looked around: he was on platform nine and three-quarters, and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him.”
DH Ch. 33
(Shoutout to Harry James Potter, who didn't recognize Eileen's fifth year photo despite her resemblance to Snape, the teacher whose classroom he got his used Potions book from. Shoutout also to Harry James Potter who didn't connect the dots between the Prince's handwriting and Snape's, a teacher who regularly wrote instructions on the board. "I needed to make the plot work, ok?" - JK Rowling, probably.)
Other relevant excerpts:
“Snape staggered - his wand flew upwards, away from Harry - and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner ”
OoTP Ch. 26
“Harry delved into his trunk and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed. There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of the book, the date that it had been published. It was nearly fifty years old.”
HBP Ch. 16
Supplemental material re: Gobstones from JK Rowling:
"...it remains a minority sport within the wizarding world, and does not enjoy a very ‘cool’ reputation, something its devotees tend to resent. Gobstones is most popular among very young wizards and witches, but they generally ‘grow out’ of the game, becoming more interested in Quidditch as they grow older.  ... Gobstones enjoys limited popularity at Hogwarts, ranking low among recreational activities, way behind Quidditch and even Wizarding Chess." [There's an additional sentence on the Harry Potter wiki's Gobstones page: "...it is also known as 'the thinking wizard's Quidditch.'"]
A few conclusions can be drawn from what little information we're given about Eileen:
She's described as "cross and sullen" around the age of 15, and as "sallow-faced, sour-looking" when she's older.
She's captain of the Gobstones club around her fifth year, so she likely marched to the beat of her own drum - given that Gobstones isn't particularly popular - and owns it proudly enough to take, or even seek out, a leadership role.
The sport is described as "the thinking wizard's Quidditch" which would imply Eileen was more interested in intellectual challenges and was clever (and can be paralleled with a young Severus' comment about "if you'd rather be brawny than brainy" to James Potter when they first meet on the Hogwarts Express).
Her marriage and the birth of her son are both announced in the paper, which might mean the family she came from was of some importance or note, or perhaps something else... but we'll get to that.
If we assume that Severus' secondhand copy of Advanced Potion Making was originally Eileen's (reasonable, though there is no textual evidence) then its publication date is likely around the time she was a sixth year, given that this particular text was specific to students beginning to prep for N.E.W.T. exams. Harry begins his sixth year in 1996 when the book is "nearly fifty years old," so we can assume Eileen was 16 years old sometime not long after 1946. Severus was born in 1960, which would mean Eileen was in her mid-late 20s at the time.
Her marriage was dysfunctional at best, abusive at worst. As per a Pottermore post that is still up on WizardingWorld.com: "...the desperately lonely and unhappy childhood [Severus] had with a harsh father who didn’t hold back when it came to the whip." Based on this, we can assume Tobias was abusive, and given Eileen's cowering as he shouted at her, she presumably feared him.
From these bits of information emerges the image of a woman who either had a surly personality, or at the very least was guarded, though perhaps just formal. There isn't really any difference in how her face is set when she's in an everyday setting like King's Cross, or when she's having her picture taken for the Gobstones Club. It's possible she was a stern, unsmiling person, but it's also possible - given that her wedding and child were announced in the paper - that she came from a family of some standing and was raised to conduct herself with hallmarks of British class, such as dignity and unaffectedness. After all, there are several wizarding families - such as the Potters - who are wealthy purebloods with social standing but are not part of the Sacred 28. Additionally, the Gobstones Club portrait would have been taken around the mid-1940s, when portraits were formal and their subjects did not often smile, and given that we see only a snippet of Eileen, we don't have enough information that she was unhappy or sour. It's also important to remember that we see her portrait and Snape's memory of her through Harry's perspective and, like his perception of Snape himself, this may convey Harry's biases.
We also know from the text that Snape had a house in a deserted part of Cokeworth, a fictional Midlands town that presumably had a collapsed milling industry, at the end of a street called Spinner's End. There's a great thread that goes into details about the kind of 2 up 2 down house it would have been, and we can assume that this is Snape's family home given that we know he and Lily grew up in Cokeworth. For all intents and purposes, the conclusion we can draw from this being the Snape family's home in the 60s is that they were working class and cripplingly poor. Most estates like this had been cleared by the 60s, and no longer exist today.
This begs the question: how did a witch from a possibly well-off family end up in an abusive marriage in an irrelevant slum?
Buckle up kids, we're leaving the world of textual references and veering into deep meta territory now. I won't label any of this as head canon because I'm not set on these interpretations, and am just drawing conclusions from the text, but some of it may be a bit loose even for meta.
If Eileen was 16 years old not long after 1946, then she would have finished school in the late 40s, possibly even 1950. While some people (including past me) posit the theory that Tobias may have been injured in WWII and his injuries debilitated him, forcing him to go on the dole and affecting his mental health, I'm increasingly skeptical of this theory. It would make more sense if Eileen had known him before he was drafted/enlisted and had committed to a relationship with him, which would then have changed when he came back from the war and was altered. If we assume Eileen's age based on the idea that it was her own copy of Advanced Potion Making Severus used, then she would still have been at school during WWII (which makes an interesting parallel with Severus' own experience of spending the bulk of the first wizarding war against Voldemort as a student at school).
I do think, however, that there's merit in the theory that Tobias suffered some kind of altering injury and that he wasn't necessarily abusive before Eileen committed herself to him. It makes little sense for a Slytherin graduate who was confident and self-posessed enough to be the face of an unpopular club to be drawn to a partner so abusive his shouts caused her to cower and who whipped his child freely. If, however, he was a charming, happy man when they met who suffered a life-altering injury, the trauma of which left him a shell of his former self, then someone like Eileen might stick around for the sake of the parts of his old self she can still see in him.
It's interesting that she didn't seem to use her magic to protect herself or her son, or even to dress her son in clothing that fit, but we know from the text that depression can cause a wizard's powers to wane:
“...it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen”
HBP Ch. 13 (Dumbledore talking about Merope Gaunt)
The fact that the Snapes retained the house in Spinner's End seems to indicate that they continued to live there even when the local industry dried up and the slum was cleared as workers were moved to other parts of the country where they were needed (presumably what happened given *gestures at British history*). The most likely explanation for this would be that Tobias wasn't able to work, and perhaps did suffer an injury, only it was at work, and not during the war. This would mean the family lived on the dole (ie. welfare) and also that he would have spent a lot more time at home. It would also explain his anger and frustration that led to abusive behavior (which isn't to say that disabled people are abusive by any means, but it would have been emasculating for a man who considered himself the breadwinner in the 60s, and chronic pain coupled with limited abilities would give anyone a short fuse).
Moreover, this living situation seems to indicate that there is no additional support coming from anywhere. Where is Eileen's family? Why were they not helping? There's no indication in the text that there is any connection with them at all. We can infer from Snape's memories that, as a child, he learned what he knew about the magical world from his mother. This implies that she talked to him about it a fair amount, and his conviction that he and Lily were going to Hogwarts well before they got their letters also implies that Eileen expected him to go there and was set on her son having a magical education, despite how little she seemed to use her own powers.
Severus knows a lot about the wizarding world as a child, including that prisoners are sent to Azkaban and that it's guarded by Dementors, Hogwarts' house structure and what to expect when he and Lily get there, and about the Statute of Secrecy and the laws around it. When Lily asks him if it makes a difference being Muggleborn, Severus hesitates before replying no, presumably because he's aware of pureblood bias being a part of wizarding culture.
Perhaps that's the reason Eileen's family doesn't seem to be in the picture. My own theory is that Eileen hadn't planned to commit herself to Tobias long-term, and Severus was an accidental outcome of an innocent tryst in which a young Eileen, an educated witch from a well to do pureblood family, was having fun slumming it with a working class muggle and ended up pregnant. While we don't know the wizarding world's attitude around pregnancy and abortion, we do know it's a conservative and classist society that parallels muggle British culture fairly closely, and that the late 50s/early 60s were a time when an out of wedlock baby would have been considered a disgrace.
Add to that the anti-muggle bias of a pureblood family and it sounds like Eileen was disowned her for her mistake (and don't @ me, but even though I know that not all Slytherins are purebloods, it does seem to be a persistent cultural value of the house reaching back to Salazar Slytherin himself, so Eileen's being sorted into it can reasonably be taken as an indication of her blood status). Perhaps the marriage and birth announcements in the Daily Prophet were put in by Eileen herself, if she was a woman from a family where this was customary. It may have been her way of letting her family know of the events, or even of asserting herself and even deliberately defying them, announcing to the whole wizarding world that a Prince married and had a child with a muggle. It makes sense that the girl who wasn't just in the Gobstones club, but became captain, would also say to herself, why shouldn't I have my marriage announced in the paper like everyone else in the family?
It's worth noting that mid-late 20s is pretty young to have a baby in the wizarding world, where the life expectancy and child bearing years are much longer than they are for a muggle. According to the Harry Potter wiki:
"Wizard life expectancy in Britain reached an average 137¾ years in the mid-1990s, according to the Ministry of Divine Health ... Wizards in general have a much longer life expectancy than Muggles, usually living two or three times as long as their non magical counterparts, some living even longer than that depending on circumstances. In addition, seeing as James Potter's parents had him "late in life,” witches likely have significantly longer childbearing years than Muggle women."
Although we see several characters in Severus' generation getting married and having kids not long after leaving school, there's a mention in the text that a lot of people were doing this during Voldemort's reign, as the fear he inspired made people more eager to get a move on with life since they thought they might die any day (I think Mrs. Weasley says this but I can't find the quote, @ me if you do). It's clear this wasn't the norm in the wizarding world. Eileen was a Slytherin, a house that values cunning, ambition, and strong wizarding heritage. Something must have gone very wrong in Eileen's life for her to end up having a child so young and living in a muggle slum.
And so it's possible Eileen Prince found herself pregnant and alone, having been disowned by her family to save face in light of her disgrace, and dependent on the only person she was still close to, the father of her child. It's the kind of storyline that Rowling would write, and it would parallel fairly closely the story of Voldemort's mother, thus adding another to the long list of similarities between Voldemort and Snape.
Lorrie Kim makes an interesting point when she talks about how Snape has a strong reaction to other people having a love life or romantic experiences (the context being Rowling's intention of his love for Lily being romantic and unrequited), but doesn't react particularly strongly to mothers sacrificing themselves for their children, whereas Voldemort does. Her insight, and I think it's a reasonable one, is that Severus accepts the idea of mothers making sacrifices for their children, whether it's Lily giving her life for Harry or Narcissa risking all she did to ask for his help in protecting Draco, because his own mother protected him from his father as much as she could.
There's a lot of room for interpretation on what Eileen's relationship with her son looked like, and what it says about her own state. She may have prioritized not angering Tobias to protect Severus, who as a child might have perceived her actions as a form of rejection. At the same time, she seems to have prepared him thoroughly for life in the magical world, perhaps in the hope that he would find his place in it and escape home. Perhaps she missed it and told him so much about it so she could live through her own memories.
The only time we see her argue with Tobias, in Severus' memory, she's cowering as he shouts. We know from JK Rowling that Tobias used corporal punishment liberally, which implies Eileen didn't stop him despite her magical abilities. We also see in the text, however, that while at school Severus stood up for himself against bullies and fought back, and that he was an exceptionally clever and powerful wizard. As an adult he was brave enough to face Dumbledore when he betrayed Voldemort, and later fought against Voldemort right under his nose (or lack thereof). So it stands to reason that at some point Severus began to stand up against Tobias too.
How much of that was Eileen's influence, or the result of Severus seeing her acceptance of her fate and rejecting it for himself, is hard to say. As for what happened to Tobias and Eileen that their house was Severus' by the mid-90s and they were nowhere in sight, I don't think there's enough information in the text to infer.
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yanxidarlings · 3 months
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"they say the wizarding elite aims to have heirs within a few years of each other, so that when they begin attending hogwarts, they can form a gang, a clique, whatever it is, to represent the prosperity of the pureblood circle, to uphold the values of the sacred twenty eight" "didn't nott's grandfather write that list?" "no- well, yes, his father did. but the idea of the wizarding elite predates it. the slytherins have had their heads stuck up their arses since 990 a.d — salazar slytherin himself is who we have to thank for the glorification of pure blood — and so centuries of inbreeding has led to what we now know as the slytherin elite" "so it's like the wizarding nobility then?" "not.. exactly. it used to be, many family's from the sacred twenty eight used to hold very real titles and power, but when the magical government became centralised in the 1700's, they were given hereditary seats on the wizengamont to keep them happy, but the power they once held slowly faded — that was around the time when the concept of slytherin gangs began" "merlins beard, they've been at this for nearly three hundred years? haven't they run out of purebloods to inbreed with yet" "some have, that's why you don't see any gaunts, beowulf's or volants in the group-" "if i'm being honest, they all look like the same stuck up gits, you absolutely positive some pureblood lady didn't just pop out fifteen of them at once" "there's only nine, malfoy and zabini are pretty distinguishable from the others, but you do have a point, i'd bet my left leg they're all at least fifth cousins" "how do you know so much" "i read you know, and people watch" "a'right then, which one is which" "why do you want to know so much? that's... caster rosier, best avoid him, apparently by the third year he had dated all of slytherin house" "you're kidding, right" "and then he moved on to hufflepuff and ravenclaw, but i suppose that's what happens when rita skeeter raises you" "rita skeeter? poor bloke" "and he does nothing but gossip, we once had to work together for a potions project and i mentioned that i had a cough and he started a rumour that i had mono" "i take that back, stuff him" "and he's supposed to be one of the nice ones. the one sitting next to him, pollux black, is the biggest prick i've ever had the displeasure of meeting, bumped into him once on my way to herbology, the bloody bastard has had it out for me ever since, calls me every foul word you could imagine, told me i was better off dead, i think i'm the reason he's started bullying you as well" "i thought i was getting bullied by one of the riddles" "you probably are — if he hits, it's mattheo riddle, if he snitchs, it's draco malfoy, if he's rude, it's pollux black, if he ignores, it's blaise zabini, and if he smokes, it's theodore nott. berkshire, greengrass and rosier are the 'nice ones', by slytherin standards" "which is the one with the punchable face?" "eulalio greengrass" "i was paired with astoria greengrass in transfiguration the other day, and messed up the spell, which cost us the grade, you know what he did when she went crying to him? broke my fucking wand" "i thought you said you stepped on it-" "he threatened to have me kicked out of hogwarts if i told anybody!" "that's just how those people are, think they're above everyone else because of their blood status and house. i think berkshire is the only one with redeemable qualities" "which one is that" "are you faceblind-"
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teaforthotxxx · 5 months
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Thinking of Wolfstar and how I sound like a freak trying to explain how
This
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Became this
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Like I would love to explain how around 2014, there was a sudden rise and resurrection second coming of christ our lord saviour Wolfstar. And, we fancasted so hard that almost 10 years later, we’re still stuck on this. And how most of the hp queer fandom started to latch onto these characters cause there was no other representation and these two started it all.
In the wake of she-who-shall-not-be-named spitting in our trans brothers and sisters’ faces, more of the hp fandom has retreated to the Marauders Era (a completely fanon lore with POCs and Queer people). That somehow this fanon non-profit lore had a better understanding of the world than canon and redeemed Slytherins by showing how inter-generational trauma affected them. By showing us that Bellatrix Lestrange was only a pawn in the Black family’s game. That Narcissa and Regulus were only doing what they had to do to survive. Sirius’ madness was not just for eccentric reasons.
This fandom highlighted the treatment of house elves. Talked about slavery. Talked about Queen Dame Lily EVANS’ childhood!! She wasn’t just a plot device to redeem Severus Snape. She was the muggle voice in the group. She was the witch that was outcasted by her muggle sister because she believed in magic. She was minority in two worlds. She was the Marauders’ friend. She wasn’t a prude or a damsel to be saved. She wasn’t just Harry’s mother. She was one of the brightest witches of her time. Harry inherited her WIT, her perseverance, her defiance, her pride, unrelenting nature. Harry Potter inherited more than her eyes. He inherited her ability to thrive in the face of trauma.
Joanne could have never given this to us. I don’t think any one person could give us this. This was a collection of rewritten lore from people who loved the universe it created but wished to be seen. And, I love my sometimes problematic and inconsistent little fandom.
How do I not sound insane doing this?
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lostmyremembrall · 7 months
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📖
love the way you write the prompts <3 may i request prompt 18 ??
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📖𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐭
𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐻𝑢𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝐺𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑦 𝐴𝑠𝑠 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡! Now closed
A/N: Oh my god. I am SO sorry it took this long to get to yours. Please forgive me, and I hope you'll still enjoy this.
You surprise Tom with a cat
Tom’s eyes widened at the sight that awaited him. Four tiny paws. A ball of brown fur. Large two ears. The tiny creature stared up at him, and bared its teeth as it meowed. Tom couldn’t help but jerk his head backwards 
“There he is!”
The enthusiastic voice of Abraxas greeted him when the resident Dark Lord peeked his head in through the doors of the Room of Requirement. His cautious eyes flickered around the room, reminiscent of an uneasy salamander that dared to poke its head out from underneath a rock to survey his surroundings.
“Let’s get this over with,” Tom sighed as he walked towards them, completely ignoring the birthday decorations that you, Abraxas, and Canopus had spent hours putting up.
“Of course. We won’t dare take up your valuable time any more than necessary,” Canopus responded somewhat sarcastically, approaching Tom and reaching up to put the cone hat that read ‘Birthday Boy’ on top of the disgruntled man’s head, knowing full well that he detested it. You might as well say that, for Canopus, seeing Tom in this humiliating hat was the only redeeming aspect of hosting this birthday party. 
“You never fail to make my day, Canopus,” Tom murmured quietly, his eyes coldly narrowing on the black-haired Slytherin. You had to admit, despite the comically small ‘Birthday Boy’ hat perched atop the Dark Lord, his seething glare was still enough to send a shiver down your spine.
  “Well, it’s tradition,” Canopus shrugged with a smug smirk on his lips, a brave reaction worthy of praise from a Gryffindor. You had no idea what it was that Canopus had: courage, stupidity, or simply a warped sense of fear. But, whatever it was, you couldn’t help but pity and admire it at the same time.
“So... Presents,” Abraxas clapped his hands excitedly, contently watching as the group sat around the sofas.
“Here, Tom. Happy birthday,” Abraxas beamed at Tom as he passed the wrapped package that was clearly a book from its size and shape.
Tom did not respond and tore open the paper wrapping.
“Oh. Actually… this is quite helpful,” Tom showed the book cover to you and Canopus; the title read ‘Dictatorship 101: A Beginner's Guide to Regime Change by Khalilah D Smith’. “Thank you, Abraxas. For the thoughtful gift,” Tom even managed a slight curl of his lips.
The blond looked quite pleased with himself, turning his nose slightly up in the air with a proud smile.
“Pshhh, as if our great Tom needs any instructions on becoming a dictator,” Canopus rolled his eyes. 
“I, on the other hand, got the only thing Tom needs on his destined path to greatness: Time,” Canopus added an exaggerated flourish to his hands that gestured to the box on the coffee table, ignoring the clear annoyance that flashed across Abraxas’ elegant features.
“You should know, Canopus,” Tom raised a brow as he opened the box. “Your words bring nothing but anxiety to my already troubled mind.”
You peeked in over Tom’s shoulder to find what exactly he meant by ‘time’, as Canopus dramtically worded. To your surprise, it was packets of energy drink powder.
“Ohh… nooo, Canopus…” you murmured quietly, recalling the Dark Lord’s sensitivity to caffeine. The last time he tried one cup of coffee, he stayed up for four nights in a row. “What on earth made you think this was a good idea?”
“Shush shush,” Canopus silenced your words of terror, not even giving you a glance. “Tom, remember the coffee that you had? Imagine that, but double that.”
Tom’s eyes widened in amusement as he glanced at it. “By that logic, I could conquer the wizarding world twice as fast.”
“Exactly my point!” Canopus’ eyes glimmered wildly. “You don’t trust us with a thing. And you’re right to do so. Imagine how much you could get done if you could do everything yourself.”
Tom hummed, nodding along. “You know what, Canopus? For the first time in my life, you did not disappoint.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “You two are just enabling his unhealthy obsession with power!” You grabbed Tom’s shoulders, and he slightly wobbled from left to right as your seething eyes captured Abraxas and Canopus. “What Tom needs is stability. Emotional support.”
The wincing was visible on Tom’s face as you said the word ‘emotional support’, but before he had any opportunity to protest, you presented him with a medium-sized box. Tom was bewildered by the way the box seemed to shake on its own. But still, carefully, he opened the box.
“Oh,” Tom seemed lost for words. “Oh. This is… rather… unexpected.”
“Unexpected? What is it-” but Canopus did not need to finish his question, as a small tabby kitten poked his head out of the box and pressed his paws against Tom’s eyes. 
Tom grew silent.
“You thought giving Tom a cat was a good idea?” Canopus turned his disbelieving eyes to you. “And here you were, telling me gifting energy drinks was irresponsible.”
You scowled at your friend, not noticing the kitten that had begun climbing Tom’s uniform like it was his life mission. “Well, I, as his friend who actually know him, happen to think that an emotionally volatile person like Tom needs a support animal.”
“Emotionally volatile?” Tom repeated to himself quietly, doubting his ears over the words that came from this supposed friend of his. At that moment, Tom was trying to ignore the kitten on his shoulder, who was pressing his paws against his cheek.
You had to admit, Tom was showing a surprising level of patience towards the kitten, a bitter realisation following closely behind that, perhaps, Tom tolerated the kitten more than any of his human friends. The tabby cat began to incessantly meow by Tom’s right ear, demanding his attention.
Abraxas was watching all of this with intrigued amusement in his pale eyes. “Well… let’s just hope that the cat will survive to see adulthood.”
You found the meowing rather adorable, but it was clear that Tom’s patience was quickly wearing thin. Even for kittens, the Dark Lord had his limits, it seemed. “Look, I only speak snake,” Tom barked, turning his head to the right, speaking directly to the kitten with frustration evident in his voice. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
The kitten only responded by pressing his paws on Tom’s lips, perhaps for the first and the last time the Dark Lord was silenced. Either from rage or being overwhelmed by the kitten’s cuteness, Tom’s cheeks turned a bright red. For the sake of the kitten, you hoped it was the latter.
“Oh hey,” Canopus’ eyes widened at the kitten’s bold move. “What do you know? He might just live to see adulthood.”
Tom growled as the kitten began his climb up Mt. Tom again. “How wonderful,” he murmured darkly, his displeased eyes following the kitten’s tail that swung back and forth in front of his face as he made his way up his head. The kitten was now wrestling with the ‘Birthday Boy’ hat, fighting for his spot on top of his head.
“Not so intimidating anymore, are you Tom?” Canopus snickered as his eyes flickered
between the Dark Lord and the cat that had settled comfortably on top of his head.
Tom’s vehement glare from behind the swinging tail was quite the sight to behold. At that moment, for whatever came over its small brain, the kitten leapt off of Tom’s head and landed on Canopus’ face.
“Agh! What’s happening?!” Canopus tried to pull off the kitten while its claws dug into his face. “Get it off me!”
“Yes. Yes!” Tom’s dark chuckle echoed in the Room of Requirement, while Abraxas watched the scene in terror, his hands elegantly covering his gaping mouth. 
You could confidently say, that for the rest of your life, you would never forget the cheerful eyes of Tom when he turned to you and said, “You were right, dear. Emotional support was exactly what I needed.”
A/N: Ended up writing as a sequel of sorts to 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓀 ℒℴ𝓇𝒹 ℴ𝓃 𝒞𝒶𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒾𝓃ℯ. Not my best writing, but hope you still enjoyed it!
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emeritusemeritus · 7 months
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Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]
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Part 1
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Title: Vulnera Sanentur
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {Established relationship}, platonic Snape x Reader.
Timeline: DH1- Set during the events of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.
Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we dire like Madeye.
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"Dumbledore's dead, it was Snape."
Your eyes opened in sheer panic as you startled awake, quietly gasping to force air into your lungs as you attempted to center yourself, realising you were safe. You looked around the dark room, breathing deeply and squinting through the darkness, familiar outlines of furniture slowly coming into focus as you took in your surroundings, realising that you were safe in your bed. The familiar weight of two arms slung around your waist gave you an immediate sense of relief as you quietly lay there, your breathing and racing heart slowly calming as you listened to the small snores and steady breaths of your two sleeping boyfriends lay either side of you.
Fred's body was pressed tightly to your back, his arm crossed over your waist as his hand cradled your clothed breast, whilst George lay beside you, your head on his shoulder with his hand resting on your hip. Despite the comforting knowledge that you were safe, surrounded and protected by your beloveds, the words from your dream replayed in your mind like a continuous, tormenting loop, casting an essence of foreboding within you.
"Dumbledore's dead, it was Snape."
Those words had haunted you since the moment you'd first heard them, the words and the greater meaning completely unfathomable to you. You weren't there when Dumbledore had died, but you saw the pain in Harry's eyes each and every time his name was mentioned and for some reason you couldn't escape the moment you learned of the headmaster's demise at the hands of your mentor, Professor Snape.
You'd always had a certain proficiency for potions, that much was clear as early on as your first year when you'd passed the first year examinations with flying colours, earning top marks in your written work and had drafted an exemplary specimen of Forgetfulness potion from memory. You'd proven time and time again that you were both able and interested in potions and for those very reasons Snape had seemed to take a liking to you, never giving you the same harsh treatment he so often bestowed upon his students. At the start of your sixth year, Snape had offered you the role of Potion Master's assistant, a highly esteemed role that had never been offered to a student before. You'd accepted with sincere gratitude and had found that working alongside Snape was much more harmonious than you could have anticipated, both of you sharing a bond of sorts, finding that you were a good team. Of course you were conflicted with his treatment of Harry and his general preference towards the Slytherins, particularly Malfoy, and you could hardly excuse his past as a death eater but for some reason you sensed conflict and guilt within him that redeemed him at least slightly in your eyes. Most students wrote him off and cold and uncaring but you saw beneath that, having seen first hand his caring nature, both with yourself and Draco in particular.
You'd been with Snape the night that Harry and Draco had duelled in the sixth floor boys bathroom, when Harry had unleashed an unknown curse he'd found in that cursed book to block the cruciatus curse that Draco had fired.
Snape had sped to the bathrooms with you in tow upon hearing Myrtle's scream and had tended to the gravely injured Malfoy without hesitation, casting healing spells and incantations that manage to stop more blood pouring from the gashes that littered Draco's body. He'd ordered you to get the essence of dittany from his personal store at once and you'd applied it to the wounds that were knitting together as Snape concentrated on the incantation. Later that night, when he had taken Draco to the infirmary, he'd called you into his office and told you never to speak of it to anyone, and you had kept your promise, knowing the grave consequences you and your loved ones could face if you did.
When you were told of Dumbledore's demise at the hand of your mentor, you'd been astounded and profoundly shocked. Though Snape could be cold and harsh, you'd never once seen him be anything other than loyal and respectful to Dumbledore, which only greatened your shock and horror at the events that had transpired.
"Angel," a voice whispered gently in the dark, the hand holding your hip squeezing gently to get your attention. You turned to George, seeing that he was awake now and watching you. He offered you a small smile as he looked at you with concern in his eyes, his hand moving from your hip to stroke your cheek. "What's got you awake?"
"The usual," you whispered back, with a sigh, nuzzling down into his bare chest to comfort yourself. He placed his arm securely around you and made room for your snuggling, though you still had Fred's arm around you which restricted your movement just a little.
"Want to talk about it?" He asks quietly, stroking your hair, knowing exactly what you are referring to. You don't reply verbally but instead shake your head against the smooth skin of his shoulder, your hand rising up to run your fingers through the sparse patch of hair beneath his pecks, feeling mostly smooth skin beneath your fingertips.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up," you said quietly, drawing little circles on his chest as he stroked your back soothingly.
"You didn't," George says, though you know he's lying. "Need to get up soon anyway."
Disappointment surged through you at his words, realising that he was right as you looked at the little digital alarm clock beside the bed, seeing that there was less than twenty minutes before the alarm would sound out to prepare you for the big day ahead. You hummed a little vague reply and snuggled down closer to his side, already feeling morose at anticipating having to leave him later that day.
"Want to take a shower with me?" He asks, his hands running up and down your back gently. You consider it for a moment, not yet willing to part with the warm, comfy bed but a shower with George did sound like a nice way to wake up.
You looked up at him and nodded, earning a sweet little smile from George as he slowly leant down to place a kiss to your lips, just a small peck that was meaningful nonetheless.
You managed to manoeuvre out of bed without waking Fred and as you slipped into the bathroom with George, you cast one last glance back at your sleeping boyfriend, seeing him now sprawled across the entire bed, seeking the rare opportunity even in his sleep.
George had started the shower ready for you both and was just in the process of checking the water temperature when you walked into the bathroom, really looking at him in the light. You always thought George looked incredible in the morning, still rousing and slightly dishevelled from sleep, his newly cut hair spiking in every direction. He was only wearing a pair of lounge shorts that hung low on his hips, his muscular back completely on display for you as he adjusted the knobs before turning round and flashing you a gorgeous smile.
"It's ready Angel," he says, walking over to you and immediately grasping your T-shirt, or rather one of Fred's old ones, by the bottom and slipped it off of your body, leaving you in just your panties. The whole act wasn't overtly sexual, it was comforting if anything spending a little time just being intimate with one another but you couldn't deny that the scales were tipping and everything that George did seemed to light a fire of desire within you, your nightmares already forgotten. You didn't miss the way George's gaze rested on your naked breasts before he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, clearly needing to feel as close to you as you did him. Your hands stroked down his chest as you kisses and you started tugging down his sleep shorts so that he was bare before you, feeling him smile into the kiss at your desperation to get him naked. Your panties were next, George's long, deft fingers slipping into the waistband and slowly dragging them down your legs as he broke the kiss, moving downwards with your panties until you were both completely naked.
"Get in angel," he says with a smirk, smacking your bum gently as you pass him to step into the steaming shower cubicle. The hot water feels heavenly against your skin as you step under the spray, ensuring to leave enough room for George too. Because of your boyfriends' height, the shower had to be raised right to the top of the slide rail, shock created a wonderful waterfall effect for you. George stepped in behind you, closing the door and placing a dry towel over the top of the cubicle away from the water spray for after.
His hands immediately begin running over your hips as you wet your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. You each lather up your hair with the shampoo you shared and take turns washing it out under the spray. You laugh and joke as you reach up to style his shampoo-filled hair into different configurations, manipulating the suds to form different shapes. You'd successfully created the shorting hat on top of his head, though with his new shorter hair it was much more abstract and you poured as he stepped under the spray and washed away your masterpiece.
"Let me," he says as you reach for your shower gel hanging by the little rack. George's hands roam over your shoulders as he spreads the sweet scented gel over your body, watching as it turns to suds in his hands. When his hands slip down over your breasts you can't help but rest your head on the tiled wall, a little puff of breath escaping you at the sensation. You could tell that it was having an affect on George by his increasingly excited member in your peripheral vision that was beginning to run against your leg.
"My turn," you say with a smirk, turning to face him completely as you reach for his products, squeezing a little out into your hand as you begin to lather him up, starting with his shoulders and slowly working your way across his abdomen and down.
He gasps and groans when your hand comes into contact with his hard cock, beginning to pump him slowly, just how he likes.
"Fuck Angel," he groans, eyes closed as he tips his head back in pleasure. Your pace slowly increases as you squeeze him just a little tighter, building the sensations he needed, rewarded in turn by his frequent moans.
"Angel, fuck," he moans, reaching up to suddenly grab at your wrist to stop. You look at him with wide eyes, worried that you'd done something wrong but he immediately pushed you back into the tiled wall, smirking at your little gasp from the coldness of the tile before he kissed you passionately, hands wandering all over your body. You moan into the kiss as his fingers drag over your pebbled nipples before slinking down your body until they slip between your legs, feeling the heat and wetness there.
"Georgie," you moan as his fingers begin to circle your clit, knees trembling already at the sensation. "Georgie I need more, please."
The spot he'd been kissing on your neck is suddenly punctured by his teeth as he groans and dominantly spins you around, manhandling you with little to no effort as he positions you as he likes. Your breasts are pushed against the cold glass, nipples already aching from the cold as he presses you gently into the glass wall. His hand reached down and spanks you, earning a gasp followed by a deep groan as his fingers begin to toy with your little pussy once again, this time from behind. His finger slips inside you and you can't help but buck your hips at the sudden but welcome intrusion. He pumps his finger in and out of you a few times with precision before he suddenly pulls away. Seconds later you can feel the familiar bulbous tip of his erection pressed against your labia and you rock your hips again, desperate for him to enter you as he snickers at your desperation.
Grabbing hold of his cock, he slips back and forth through your folds before pulling away slightly and slapping his tip against your clit a few takes making you cry out. Without warning, he suddenly reaches for your leg and holds it up, spreading your thighs and leaving you completely open for him as he slides in all the way, your hungry pussy greedily accepting him as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate him.
You moan out in unison at finally being joined together and he slowly pulls himself back out, dragging it out so that you can feel every single inch of him, every vein and every ridge before he slams back into you, setting a brutal but tantalising pace as he fucks into you from behind. His moans and groans echo in the little cubicle and those mixed with the steam from the shower make you feel lightheaded and completely fucked out already.
George shifts you forward just a little, still keeping hold of you securely before resuming his thrusting, making you cry out at the new angle. He manages to slip even deeper in you now and you can't help but rock your hips at the intensity of the feeling as he bites and sucks at your neck from behind, never once loosing his momentum.
Suddenly, he spins you in his arms so that you're facing the shower and with one swift reach up, the spray of the shower is no longer above you as George knocks the shower head off the clamp, allowing it to bungee down until it was spraying your bodies. With his unoccupied hand, he reaches for the showerhead and immediately aims it up at your pussy, causing you to scream at the new sensation. The spray of the water was focused entirely on your pussy, the forceful droplets hitting your clit in the most perfect way which only furthered your pleasure. You were completely overwhelmed, the water vibrating against your clit, your nipples taught and aching from the coldness and George's perfect cock filling you entirely. You couldn't hold out any longer and you could feel your climax charging through you, all of your pleasure spots being played perfectly by your boyfriend as you begin to cry out louder and louder.
"Georgie fuck, fuck, George I'm cumming," you cried out as he fucked into you harder and harder, balls slapping against your pussy as he feels you begin to clench and roll your hips at the intensity of the orgasm crashing over you. He lets go of the showerhead immediately, knowing that it would overstimulate you quickly as he focuses on thrusting through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure and cresting his own as he fucks into you. Your clenching walls squeeze his length in the most wonderful way and he only lasts mere moments before he's cumming inside you with a roar that reverberates around the small room.
He stays inside you as you both catch your breaths, George's arms lowering your leg back to the ground as you wiggled your toes, feeling the familiar ache begin to creep into your limb from being held up for so long but you only smile, feeling blissfully fucked out. He slowly pulls out of you, resting his head on your shoulder as you keen at the sensation, both of you breathing deeply as you feel his cock slip out, followed by a stream of his cum that slips slowly out of your little sore hole and down your thigh.
"Perfect timing," you laugh as you hear the alarm blaring from the bedroom, followed by a loud groan from Fred who you can picture slinging his arm over the side of the bed to whack the clock into silence. George chuckles against your shoulder at your words before placing a kiss to the spot he was resting on, moving to stand at full height again. His hand reaches out for the showerhead and carefully avoid any areas of your body that would be too sensitive, he washes away the evidence he'd left on your body with his hands before turning off the shower and placing it back into the bracket clamp.
"I love you so much," he says suddenly, prompting you to turn and face him, seeing the trepidation in his eyes. Today is the day that the order would be transporting Harry to the burrow, a dangerous but necessary mission and unfortunately for you, both of your boyfriends had been chosen to assist with this operation. Tensions were high and the stakes were even higher, meaning that you were all scared of the outcome.
"I love you so much George Weasley," you smile, feeling your own emotions bubbling under the surface at the prospect of what could happen tonight. You moved forward and stepped into chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you fought of the chill, no longer having the hot water to warm you up.
"If something," George begins to say, but you place your lips on his to silence him, not wanting to hear it. You pull apart and though he still looks downcast, he understands.
"We love each other, that's all we need to think about right now." He nods gently and pulls you in for one last cuddle, placing a kiss to your wet hair as he holds you. The sentiment is not lost on you, both of you completely bare before each other both physically and emotionally, each needing to cling to the other as you navigate the next 24 hours.
"Have you two done fucking? Some of us need to take a leak!" You hear Fred shout, though his voice is muffled through the door. "I don't need to point out that I'm feeling very left out here!"
You laugh and pull apart as George reaches up to drape the towel around you before you both step out of the shower. You walk over and open the door as Fred bursts in, staggering straight to the toilet as he pulls down his own pyjama pants and pulls out his cock, not even caring that he has an audience as he relieves himself. His bleary eyes look over at his twin and he instantly grimaces, seeing him completely nude with only a small towel ruffling his wet hair.
"Gross, get some clothes on," he says, flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink to quickly wash his hands.
"You see him naked all the time," you say, watching his reaction, pointing out the facts. Fred turns to you with a frown before seeing you dressed in only a towel which clearly piques him interest.
"That's different, I don't actively look at him, in fact I try and avoid it. When you're naked I don't see anything else," he grins, moving toward you and messing with the towel where it was tucked, hoping to catch a peak of your naked body but you gently slap his hand away, making him pout.
"So he gets to rail you and I can't even get a peak? Where's the fairness in that?" He says with mock outrage.
"Stop pouting and you'll get more than a peak later," you say with a smirk which makes his eyes widen and his hands immediately fall to his sides as he puts his bottom lip away.
"Yes ma'am," he jokes before leaning in to kiss you, pulling you right into his chest as his hands snake over your bare shoulders.
Fred slips into the shower as you prepare breakfast for the three of you. George makes you a cup of tea and kisses you as he slides it over to you on the counter before taking a seat at the little table in the corner of the kitchen, pulling out the daily prophet and reading through the news of the day. Freddie joins you only a few minutes later and slips behind you as you cook the breakfast, pressing dangerous kisses to your neck as his arms wrap around your middle.
When breakfast is ready you all take a seat and eat in comfortable silence, listening to the radio that Fred had flicked on as he entered the kitchen. There's tension in the air as the news reporters begin to list off the names of witches and wizards that are declared missing, with a few familiar names creeping up on the list such as Charity Burbage, the muggle studies professor at Hogwarts.
You tried to push down the anxiety that was swirling around you and tried to focus on the positives of the day. The shop was closed today on account of it being a Sunday as to not arouse suspicion for the sudden closure to anyone who might be looking for signs that Harry would be moved, knowing that the death eaters were all waiting for this information.
Your orders from Madeye had been simple, though you were still a little aggrieved that you hadn't been selected for the mission, you were to apparate early to the burrow alone and set up a base camp for the returning members. Your talents in potions had been mentioned by your ex-professors Snape and Remus numerous times and this information had earned you the unofficial role as the healer of the group, with your own draughts having been created and shipped to the burrow in preparation.
You had a few hours until you were due to arrive at the burrow and so you took your time getting ready, checking and re-checking the bag you were apparating with, namely containing your personal items, clothing, toiletries and copious amounts of dittany and other healing and restorative herbs that you could use incase of injury or worse.
When it was time to say goodbye to your boyfriend's you could barely hold back the tears as they held you between them both, all three of you cuddled together as the reality set in, those dark thoughts twirling about in all your heads as you looked upon your boyfriends for what could be the last time. If it was, you wanted to commit this to memory, the feel of both of their arms around you, their towering height, the softness of them and the small little differences that you could physically feel between them both.
"I love you Princess," Fred says, pulling you into him as George steps back, letting you both have a moment. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember and there will never be a time that I don't, whatever happens tonight." Tears pooled in your eyes as you nodded to his words, feeling his hand delicately cupping your jaw as he looks into your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, you're stuck with me forever you know that? Him too, but mainly me," he smirks, nodding his head to George who you're certain is rolling his eyes.
"I love you Freddie," you say, reaching up to kiss him before turning to George.
"You already know how much I love you," George says, taking your hand in his and pulling you closer.
"Yeah I think I heard that this morning," Fred mumbles before receiving a glare from George that makes him step away, leaving you to have a moment with his twin.
"We'll be back before you know it, be safe, I love you." He presses a firm kiss to your lips, hands clutching at the fabric of your dress.
"Now, future Mrs Weasley, do you have everything?" Fred says, moving back towards you as he placed at the bag by your feet. You smile widely at the nickname, butterflies raging in your tummy as you nod.
"My dress is already at the burrow," you say, thinking of your dress for Bill and Fleur's wedding in a few days, "everything else is here."
You glance at the clock and take a deep breath, knowing that you needed to leave. The twins both seem to notice and though you can tell Fred is trying to play it cool, you can see his fingers fidgeting at his side as they often did when he was uncomfortable. George's eyes told you everything you needed to know, the torment and sadness at being parted so clearly visible in his sad look.
"Don't keep me waiting," you say with one last smile before you reach for your bag and with a loud crack, you begin to pull through space and time before ending up directly outside the Burrow in the tall grass.
Molly rushes out to greet you, no doubt having been waiting for your anticipated arrival for quite some time and pulls you into a warm hug, ushering you inside and thrusts an already made cup of tea into your slightly shaking hands. Ginny heard the commotion and comes barrelling towards you, sweeping you up in a hug before you do the same to Hermione who follows suit. Ron stands back awkwardly but you simply step towards him and wrap your arms around him, knowing he wouldn't make the first move. He doesn't resist in the slightest and you hug your boyfriend's younger brother for a moment before pulling away, smiling at them all. Arthur then rounds the corner and ushers you in to a fatherly embrace, asking after his twin sons. Bill and Fleur arrive not long after and then Remus and Tonks, who pulls you away to the front lounge to speak with you.
"Tonks, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you both!" You say with wide smiles as you embrace the mother to be, overjoyed at their wonderful news as she shares it with you privately whilst you await the rest of the order. Upon entering the kitchen once again, you see Remus look up from his discussion with Bill and you smile widely at him, mouthing congratulations secretly so no one else would see. He shoots you a shy but kind smile with a nod of his head that shows his thanks before he engages in conversation once again.
Kingsley shows not too long after and you greet each other formally but fondly before Madeye bursts in gripping the collar of a disgruntled Mundungus who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
"Right, Hagrid is meeting us in little whinging, as are the twins," he says, stomping forward to address the small crowd. "The plan has not changed, we will be executing it precisely as Dumbledore wanted." Suddenly he turns to address you, his fake eye wandering around the room as his real eye focuses entirely on you. "Have you brought everything I asked?"
"Yes, everything's ready," you reply with a nod, eyes flicking over to the little wooden box on Molly's table that housed all of your pre-prepared potions.
You walked over to the box and pulled out a large vial of pre-prepared potion you'd been brewing all month before walking back towards Madeye and handing it over. He examined it briefly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a familiar flask, sniffing it once before tipping the poly juice potion into the flask before handing the now empty vial back to you.
"It'll last two hours, give or take 10 minutes, Fred and George will need to take slightly more on account of their height, everyone else a big sip will do. Get Harry's hair from the root and sprinkle it in, swirl it around but don't shake it, let the hair dissolve and it won't fail. "
"Excellent, right, best not to keep everyone waiting, Mundungus you're with me."
Madeye marches out and the rest of the group take turns to say goodbye to eachother. You reach out and grab Remus' jacket sleeve as he starts to walk away, gesturing for him to hold back for just a moment.
"Tonks, she, I, should she really be doing this?" You ask delicately, not feeling at all right about sitting about whilst a pregnant woman goes into battle. Remus simply smiles at you and pats the hand that clutches his arm, as if he appreciated the thought.
"I've never once been able to stop her yet, I hardly doubt any being on earth could," he says simply with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. You can tell the weight of the task at hand is laying heavily on him, knowing that both his wife and unborn child would be out there on the front line.
"I can take her place," you say, offering yourself but he shakes his head.
"She knows the risks, as do I, and I greatly appreciate your concern but it's already set."
The waiting has grown to be excruciating as the hours dragged on. Molly whizzed around occupying herself, fluffing and re-fluffing pillows, picking up her knitting then throwing it down in frustration moments later and scrubbing the kitchen counters until the sponge was worn down to a slither. Ginny on the other hand sat frozen at the table, hardly moving as she gazed into nothingness, her worries written clearly all over her face. You tried your hardest not to think of the possibilities and had tried desperately not to think of your boyfriends or friends and companions out there but it was hopeless, all you could think of were Fred and George, desperate to be reunited with them again. You'd checked all your potions, split them into individual vials and had begun brewing more, reading up on healing herbs and anything else you might have missed as you waited. You'd made countless cups of tea for the three of you but none had truly been touched other than a few sips here and there and Molly had created a feast for the members due to return, mostly just to pass the time. You'd actively avoided looking at the infamous clock that featured each member of the Weasley family but as the clock chimed announcing that it was 9pm, you'd accidentally cast a glance at the clock and saw that nearly all of the Weasley family were now pointed at the 'mortal petal' setting on the clock, all except Molly, Ginny and Charlie. Your stomach dropped as you considered what could be happening, knowing that they were due to arrive at Harry's any moment and tried hard to reason with yourself that there was no option on the clock that would fit this exact circumstance, though it was complete denial.
You could tell Molly was trying her hardest to appear strong but considering that four of her sons, her husband and beloved friends were out there, she was clearly distressed. Both of your loves were out there and that was hard enough, you couldn't even fathom how she must be feeling.
"Molly, please let me help," you say, walking into the kitchen where she was scrubbing the sink once again. She stopped and turned to you and you saw the faintest crack in her resilience as she paused her scrubbing, heaving out a large sigh. She gave you a small smile and handed you the dishcloth to dry the plates and you worked in comfortable silence, not quite knowing what to say to each other despite years of a budding parental friendship.
A resounding bang followed by clattering and a splash out in the field immediately made you freeze and look at each-other with an unreadable expression.
They were back. At least, you hoped it was them.
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odinsonslut · 1 year
Text
4 am
⊹ genre: angst, fluff ending
⊹ pairing: george weasley x reader (implied female)
⊹ themes: slight enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers???
⊹ summary: following the abrupt ending of your friendship, George, the instigator of the breakup, continues to treat you with carelessness and disregard. You’re pushed to the point of retaliation, leading to a cruel confrontation. George attempts to redeem his character and finally express his feelings.
⊹ warnings: swearing, kind of a heated suggestive make-out, a mean george.
⊹ word count: 2.1k
⊹ a/n: I haven’t written since, like, 2018. PLEASE, please treat me gently. I know I tend to overuse the same phrases within a story. I also suck at writing summaries. I promise there’s more to it than described 🫶���🫶🏽
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It was 4 am when I jolted awake, still wading off the reminiscent agitation from a dream involving a sinking ship and a niffler from what I could remember. Hermione’s lamp was on its dimmest setting right next to where she had fallen asleep, book in hand, a muggle book I had gifted her since I rarely saw her reading for pleasure since we entered our fifth year. 
I turned her bedside lamp off on my way out, hoping the elves were up preparing breakfast. I’d befriended Winky and often spent time with her over butter cookies in the kitchens when I had trouble sleeping. Her addiction was steadily improving without the burden of her previous master.
I made my way to the common room, contemplating walking all the way down to the kitchens, when I heard a thudding pair of footsteps down the stairs. It was George. It was too late to act like id never looked up; we had already made eye contact. Our usual routine was to avoid an acknowledgement of any form. Things hadn’t been the same since he’d rejected my invite to the yule ball last year, though that wasn’t why our friendship had fallen through.
“He’s got you sneaking out at night now too?” 
I was taken aback. The last time we’d ever spoken was the reluctant exchange of Merry Christmas’ due to Molly’s prodding at the burrow. The ‘he’ George was referring to was the date you ended up with at the ball, Draco, the reason George had cut you off completely that night.
“Tell Angelina she’s welcome to join us when she grows tired of faking it with you.” 
I was furious. Why does he get to decide your friendship is over? Why does he get to be mad about your relationship after rejecting you? Why is the standing of our relationship always dictated by how he feels and what he wants? And why should I continue acting civilly towards him?
I picked a book off the shelf and bumped his shoulder as I passed him, deciding to return to bed. I had lost my appetite.
-
I’d practically sprinted to the great hall for dinner after a two-hour-long class of potions. Since your breakup, being partnered up with Draco for the next year was a little awkward. Keeping the DA a secret and him being on the inquisitorial squad just caused too many issues that couldn’t be resolved on top of the Gryffindor-Slytherin debacle. He was the sweetest boy, and being apart still hadn’t affected how he treated you at all: softly, politely. It was comforting knowing he’d always have a soft spot for you, but getting to the point of friendship would take a little longer.
I sat between Hermione and George, across from Harry, getting subtle looks from my friends. I was tired of walking on eggshells around George, waiting for him to dictate how our interactions go or tailoring my behaviour for his comfort. This was his problem, not mine. 
“Get yourself somewhere else to sit. This seat is spoken for”, he spoke immediately. 
I refused to react defensively. Instead, I picked an eclair off his plate and took a bite. 
Harry avoided looking at us at all, shovelling meat pie into his mouth. Hermione didn’t employ the same faux indifference, staring directly at us. George shifted a bit farther away from me and continued eating, similarly refusing to give me a reaction. 
“Where is Angelina? Last I saw, she was off ‘practising’ with Marcus Finch”, I prodded, refusing to concede
“Your desperation for me is becoming pitiful to witness; it’s pathetic. Keep her name out of your mouth; you’d think it’d be exhausted with what all you spend your time doing with it.” 
You finally got the rise out of him you were looking for, you pushed him to a breaking point, but it wasn’t the satisfying victory you imagined. It hurt.
I kept my gaze downcast, lightly placed the remainder of the unfinished eclair back onto George’s plate and left the hall. I spent the night on a couch in the room of requirement, unwilling to accept Hermione’s comfort quite yet.
-
“What on earth is going on with you two?”  Hermione was lying on my bed beside me, our hands loosely intertwined. She’d spent all Saturday morning with me, avoiding the topic of George completely till now. 
I sighed
I knew it would be an inevitable discussion, but a part of me wished I could avoid it into in-existence. “It was embarrassing, Mione. I think we’re truly done with each other, and I honestly feel okay with the thought of that. I know I pushed him, but hearing those words was jarring. It felt like a completely different person than who I thought was still in there. It’s the lighthearted and slightly sarcastic tone in which he said it that made it hurt. I feel foolish.”
“Nothing you put him through warranted that response, honestly? It sounded more like a projection to me. You were dignified in accepting his rejection, and he cut you off for going with someone else?”
“There is absolutely no sense in trying to decipher why the Weasley boys act the way they do. I’ve still never gotten a sound explanation as to what exactly Ron was on that night, either. I mean, it’s obvious he was jealous but-
“Yeah, jealous he wasn’t Victor’s date for the night”, She cut me off.
“oh my god, whatever happened to the Krum-themed anal plug Fred had custom-made Ron for Christmas third year?”
-
Opening my eyes felt like such an effort; my head felt like pounding out of its skull in an unfamiliar bed in the boys’ dormitory. I recognised the burgundy hand-knitted sweater with a large W embroidered on it. My heart leapt into my throat for a split second. I had worried I’d somehow managed to break into George’s room for a confrontation. 
He had been on my mind a lot lately. It had been about two months since the incident, and since we last spoke, and lately, he and Fred have been all everyone can talk about with the success of their prototypes and antics that seemed to have tightened in frequency the more decrees imposed by Umbridge.
I was rushing to get my things together when he walked in. I paused in place, petrified.
“You were careless last night. I don’t know when you became this person, but you’ve got to stop letting Malfoy ruin you. Muggle narcotics are dangerous.”
Just hearing his voice chastising me yet again pulled at me internally. 
“I’m begging you to stop saying anything to me at all if they’re going to come out like that; I will genuinely beg because I just can’t take this from you anymore, George.”
He looked unamused 
“When did you become so weak? Malfoy broken you down so badly that all you know how to do is make yourself small and beg?”
I’d had just about enough. I threw George against the wall yelling at him to shut the fuck up, haphazardly punching him wherever I could land any, the frustration that had built up for months finally meeting its outlet. Save from shielding his face, George stood there and took it till I was done.
“Draco and I broke up over two months ago. He’s a good friend, he does help me get what I use, but he makes sure I’m safe and alive whenever I’m using” I finally broke the silence, and we sank to sit on the floor across from each other.
“I know, he told me last night. He was carrying you outside the common room, yelling at the fat lady to let him in to put you to bed. He told me you’d broken up and that you remained friends. He also said you were developing a problem and needed me back.”
“I don’t need Malfoy speaking for me, and having you around would actualise my supposed ‘problem’. Why am I in your clothes in your bed?”
“When I opened the door for Malfoy, you asked me to stay with you. You told me you just wanted one night of being us again, so I gave you clothes to change into, put you to bed in my room, and slept on the couch in the common room.”
I stood up to leave without acknowledging his response, relieved nothing else had happened. 
“I don’t know that it’ll change anything for you, but I’ve felt sorry for treating you the way I did for a really long time. I figured you’d finally found peace with the situation and avoided trying to resolve things for that reason. At least, that was the excuse I forced myself to believe. I didn’t realise I was really just afraid of confrontation and rejection. Not generally, just with you. You were right about Angelina, too, apparently, she’s been shacking up with Finch since Christmas,” He continued 
“None of that means anything to me. For as long as you got to decide to do whatever you wanted with my feelings, all I wanted was to get past this. This doesn’t mean anything to me after what you’ve done with the importance I trusted you enough to hold to you. I’m well within my right to decline your apology. And it isn’t even to spite you for your selfish decisions. You were right. I am truly happy without you. You don’t mean anything to me anymore.” I spoke with my back towards him and walked out and back to my dorm immediately after.
-
George had spent the last three weeks trying to earn back a spot in your life as the friend he once was to you. He’d done everything you hoped he would for the longest time, and it felt empowering to ignore his advances and put your pride first. But the more time you reluctantly spent with the old George, the harder it was to stop your previous feelings from resurfacing.
This particular morning, if you could even classify 4 am as the morning, George had snuck into your dorm with Harry’s cloak in hand. You only agreed to leave with him because he promised you a visit to Winky. After devouring an entire gooseberry pie between you, George suggested a walk by the lake. It was tempting, especially after seeing how he interacted with Winky, as normally as he does everyone else, without judgement. But you pushed yourself to decline and returned to the common room together.
You spotted professor Snape on your way up, seemingly aggravated by Peeves, omitting a chuckle from George as he watched Snape flail around, attempting to curse the ghost.
“Who’s there?” He sneered
I immediately lifted my hand to cover George’s mouth as we scooted closer together under the cloak. We kept our eyes locked as we tried to remain still. His eyes dipped to my lips at the same time he lifted my palm off of his. Tangling his left hand into my hair, he used his right to guide my waist back till we hit the wall and kept me in his hold, his lips moving closer to mine with every breath he took
“What’re you doing?” I asked softly enough for just the two of us to hear
He looked into my eyes as he finally connected his lips with mine, our eyes fluttering shut after the initial kiss as we melted into it. He teased my tongue with him as he hoisted me up to his level, wrapping my legs around his waist. The build-up of tension escaped us with every rough feverish kiss. His kisses moved to my neck as he began guiding my hips against his, perfectly lining me up against him. I could barely keep myself composed.
“It’s unfortunate, the 50-point deduction limit per student” My blood ran cold at the sound of Snape’s voice. George immediately dropped me to the ground, where I landed on Harry’s discarded cloak. George squeezed my hand in comfort, signalling he’d take care of things.
He took a breath and stepped toward Snape. “I drugged her, Sir; she’s completely innocent.”
“God, you’re an idiot”, I thumped him on the back of his head.
We sniggered, trailing a few steps behind Snape as we were escorted back to our dormitories, not too fussed about detention every week till the end of the term.
End
✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩
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iamnmbr3 · 2 months
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JKR. Ma'am. If you didn't want me to ship drarry why did you write all these darry & jily parallels?
This is almost verbatim what Draco says to Harry in their first meeting.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”
These parallels are absolutely intentional. (Tho presumably the point was to show that James was a bully. But JKR really didn't think thru these implications.) And then on the train just as Draco bullying Ron confirmed Harry's dislike of him, James bullying Snape confirms Lily's dislike.
Of course I would argue that James has a much greater penchant for cruelty and violence that Draco does and while he never became a Death Eater as a bully he was worse.
Also why tf does JKR think James is redeemable but Draco isn't even tho Draco canonically regretted his behavior and there's no direct evidence that James did?
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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James Potter
drabbles
Divots (1k words)
James shows you the practical uses of your stretch marks
Camping (1.6k words)
The wilderness definitely favors James over you, but it does have its redeeming qualities
Dizzy (2.7k words)
When your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual
You're James secret, Slytherin quidditch captain gf | pt. 2
the prequel (?)
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darklinaforever · 4 months
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So Marauders stans tend to like Regulus Black ? Can I know why ? Because he essentially has the same background as Severus, but less developed and less extreme. We're about a wealthy guy, who grew up with disgusting values ​​that he always supported, unlike Sirius, and who only rebelled when his beloved house elf was used as a lab rat by Voldemort and died by taking on an orcrux... So why do they hate Severus exactly ? A poor guy who was mistreated by his father, in addition to being harassed throughout his schooling, then who because of his bad company at school (or rather the few only ones he had since Severus was an outcast, implying that this must have been the only group that truly accepted him, explaining the influence it must have had on him. Because I still remember that Severus is a half blood... Which is what Voldemort's followers are also supposed to hate) became a Death Eater, then recognized his mistake and spent the rest of his life redeeming himself by serving as a double agent before dying for the cause... So, I would like to understand how Severus deserves to be hated and Regulus adored by these people ?
Also, I'm tired of seeing people say that Severus is the worst teacher ever, mistreating his students...
Yes, he was not kind at all to them, but the fact is that he never put them in danger and on the contrary often protected them. He doesn't seem to give unfair grades or impossible assignments. Yes, he shows favoritism towards Slytherin, but Dumbledor, the headmaster of the school himself shows favoritism towards Gryffindor. Let's not talk about Slogorn who actually had his favorite student club ! No teacher is perfect at this shitty school. And sorry, but the case of Neville's fear materializing in the form of Severus doesn't count, because he himself said it could have been his grandmother instead. And Hermione was treated to Minerva telling her that she was essentially failing. So stop with all this bullshit. Severus is not the best teacher in the world, or even not a good teacher at all in terms of relationships with his students, but he is certainly not the worst of the lot in our fetish wizard school.
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rewritingcanon · 1 month
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Gimme that opinion on Drastoria 🫰🫰🫰
as you wish pookinator 🫡
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i know we have not a lot of information on astoria as a person, but the info we do have makes so much sense to me why draco fell so deeply in love with her. she was described as extremely kind, caring, and very open. she turned her back on pureblood traditions and beliefs— i don’ think yall get how big a deal that is. people make headcanons of the canon slytherin characters all the time but astoria is one of the only ones who genuinely fits the box of being a part of a noble pureblood family and rejecting their values (and she was probably in slytherin, which makes it ever rarer). she also seems extremely selfless— she wanted to have a baby just so draco wouldn’t be alone when she eventually died because she knew how hard it would be on him. draco had to turn against his own parents wishes and fight for their right to be married, which tells me astoria didn’t want to fight for herself and get in between draco’s relationship with his parents. considering draco’s character and all he sacrificed to honour his parents and have their approval, this was huge.
and then there’s that fucking letter bro. the one that draco writes to astoria on his birthday after she has passed away. HE STILL WRITES TO HER WHEN SHES GONE !!! this is like the equivalent of never deleting the number of someone who has died and letting the messages turn green because you know they wont respond but you’re doing it anyways because you miss them. ohhhhh im sick. draco loved her so so so much, she was his reason for redeeming himself and she gave him another reason to stay on that path once she was gone (scorpius).
i didnt mean for this to turn into such a rant in defense of drastoria but i’ve seen so many people complain about draco’s lack of a redemption arc and the fact that he gets with an unknown character instead of one of the main ones, but to me what we already have of drastoria is perfect. less ≠ bad ship.
tldr: draco and astoria make completeeeee sense.
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jamesunderwater · 2 months
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Jily Microfic: Formidable
@jilymicrofics - feb 26th, prompt: formidable - word: 984 Summary: James finds out what Level Nine looks like, and it brings everything into perspective. a/n: this fic will make a lot more sense if you read its predecessor here first (there are also some nods to the first micro in that collection, 'Redeem'). You could probably get by without it if you have to, though.
"Hobgoblins," Sirius muttered when the whole matter had been settled – the crowd shooed away, the assailants sent to the hospital wing, and Lily Evans escorted to the Headmaster's office. "I knew Lily was a formidable opponent but...bloody hell."
“And I thought she’d been scary at a Level Seven,” Peter quaked. 
“Well, you’re as brave as a rat, Wormtail, so that’s no surprise,” Sirius remarked.
“Truly, though,” Remus said, “I have always thought Lily at a Level Eight was something to be feared, but this was…”
The three boys turned to James as though waiting for him to pronounce it, but he’d been lost in thought. 
“Yeah,” he started slowly, “Safe to say we’ve discovered Level Nine.”
While his friends continued animatedly discussing what they’d witnessed, James returned to his thoughts.
‘Formidable’, from the Latin formidare, meaning "to fear”, was clearly an appropriate term for Lily Evans when her rage was at a Level Seven or higher. But after dating her for a month now, James would argue this to be true at any level. At Levels 1-3, she ought to be feared for how distractingly adorable she could be; at Levels 4-6, she ought to be feared for her sharp wit and eagerness to use it; and now, the newly completed third tier: Levels 7-9… 
Before that afternoon, James might have had a joke for this tier like the rest. But the look in her eyes when he’d found her had been a sobering glimpse of the truth: Lily Evans was actually dangerous – and that was probably true at all levels, too.
When he’d bolted toward the sound of screaming, James had prayed with every footfall that it wouldn’t be her he found. Fights between students had been happening more frequently as tensions from the war grew; this they’d all become accustomed to. But in recent weeks there’d been several pointed attacks on Muggleborn students, at the end of which the victims were usually sent to the hospital wing, while their assailants “couldn’t be identified.” So James, expecting to find a victim on the ground, had his wand at the ready, prepared to fight off whoever might be standing above them.
In no world would he have guessed he’d discover Lily to be the one standing over bodies – let alone three seventh year Slytherin boys.
With one leg on either side of his torso, Lily towered above Mulciber, his face so covered in boils he was nearly unrecognizable. Slumped against the wall behind him was an unconscious Avery, and a few feet to his right lay Evan Rosier, moaning in pain as he clutched one of his legs. James could see a large patch of blood darkening his gray pants where he held it. 
“Touch them again!” Lily bellowed, her wand pointed directly at Mulciber’s face. The large boy was shrieking with pain, his hands hovered over his face as new boils continued to grow and burst on his skin. 
James looked around to find ‘them’ but there were no other bodies to be found. A large crowd of students had formed around the scene, and he noticed a pair of young Hufflepuffs crying in the arms of one of their prefects. Their robes appeared to be tattered.
“Touch them again, I dare you!”
When James turned back to Lily she was trembling, teeth bared. Her pupils were so dilated that the green of her irises had become nothing but a thin rim around the swollen black. 
He didn’t think she would continue to curse a man who was already down, but it didn’t seem wise to wait and find out.
“Lily!” James called, forcing his way out of the crowd and into her orbit. 
She didn't move or seem to even notice him. James stepped closer, glancing at Mulciber. The young man was clearly in too much pain to do anything but writhe. 
“Lily,” James said again, quieter this time. “It’s alright, yeah? They’re safe.”
It was several more seconds before she finally pulled her eyes from the Slytherin’s swollen face. When she looked at him, James watched her pupils begin to slowly shrink again.
James watched the map diligently as he waited for Lily to be released from Dumbledore's office, and as soon as she started heading towards the Head Students’ office, he darted off to meet her.
“So?” He asked, leaning forward on his desk as he stared at the girl across from him, the word formidable echoing in his mind.
Lily smiled sheepishly, and James was struck by how she could be both this Lily and that Lily.
“He gave me a sherbet lemon and asked after my mother,” she told him with a shrug. James stared at her, almost unable to believe it. “It's true!” She laughed nervously. “He said we ought to sit a while to make it look like a proper long lecturing, but…” A smile hid behind her eyes. James watched as it slowly met her lips. “You know, for a minute there I almost thought I was going to be awarded points for the whole thing.”
James laughed then, part relief, part wonder.
“Thank you, by the way,” Lily spoke more quietly, as though embarrassed.
“Any time,” he said with a casual shrug, hoping it would reassure her.
A long stretch of silence passed before James smirked and said, “I think Mulciber, Avery and Rosier are going to have nightmares for months after today. As someone who's stared down the end of your wand…I know from experience.”
Lily cackled, and James grinned at the sight of her. 
Yes, she was this Lily, and that Lily – and too-cute Levels 1-3 Lily, and sharp-tongued 4-6 Lily, and quick-tempered 7-9 Lily. She was all of them, and it was with this realization that James understood how much danger he was in…
Because after today, he was pretty sure he was in love with the formidable Lily Evans.
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gaybatmanenthusiast · 7 months
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LOYALTY DIVIDED (oneshot)
(DRACO MALFOY X MALE READER)
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⋆★ word count : 475
⋆★ warnings : angst
⋆★ summary : you’re on opposing sides of the battle of Hogwarts..!!!
⋆★ extra : been rotting in my drafts for a hot minute! 3rd person pov, i’m starting to like it a lottt
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In the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy and a (M/N) a brave (HOUSE) found themselves on opposing sides of the conflict. Tension filled the air as spells clashed and the grounds shook with the echoes of destruction.
Amidst the chaos, the two spotted each other across the battlefield. Recognition flickered in their eyes, but their duty to their respective sides held them captive. (M/N), driven by his unwavering loyalty toward Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, gritted his teeth and prepared to fight against the Slytherin, whose allegiance lay with the Dark Lord.
As they cautiously approached one another on the battleground, wands at the ready, (M/N)‘s hand hesitated for a moment. He couldn't help but be curious about Draco's motives, wondering why he had chosen to align himself with the dark forces they were now fighting against.
"Draco," he called out, his voice filled with determination and a tinge of sadness. "Why are you fighting on the side of darkness? I thought you were better than this..!"
Draco's gaze met his, and his stormy gray eyes softened ever so slightly. For a moment, the chaos around them seemed to fade into the background. Draco knew he had to give an answer, even if it meant confronting his own doubts and fears.
"I never wanted any of this," Draco replied, his voice barely audible above the clamor of the battle. "I was born into a family that embraced a twisted ideology, and my fear and desperation drove me to make choices I now regret (M/N)."
(M/N) couldn't help but hear the vulnerability in Draco's words. He began to piece together the internal struggle he must have faced, trapped between his family's expectations and his own conscience.
"I became tangled in a web of darkness and deceit," Draco continued, voice tinged with remorse. "But deep down, I knew it was wrong. I've seen the casualties, the innocent lives lost. It's why I've been trying to find a way to redeem myself, even if it means going against everything I was raised to believe in." Draco’s eyes met the floor.
(M/N)’s grip on his wand weakened as he listened to Draco's confession. He saw his struggle mirrored in their own battle against prejudice and injustice. Despite the differences that once seemed insurmountable, they now saw a shared determination to make things right.
In that moment, (M/N) made a choice. He lowered his weapon, silently urging Draco to do the same. Slowly, hesitantly, he complied. And in that surrender, a bond formed between them, stronger than any of the forces that had divided them before.
Then (M/N)‘s small hopeful smile dropped as Draco raised his wand again, pointing it with force at him. The last words he heard before everything went black was “Avada Kedavra!” coming from the voice he had grown to trust.
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