unaccomplishedwriter

[unaccomplishedwriter]

Hidden Charm

Slytherin!Jungkook x Slytherin!Reader

slight!Jaehyun x Reader

-🐍🐍🐍-

Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook is a notorious name in the halls of Hogwarts. Pureblooded, talented, and somewhat cold, he is a textbook definition of everything it means to be Slytherin. At least, the Slytherin stereotype. The unfazed, unapproachable, and unobtainable aura the male exudes was the holy trinity that attracted the eyes of many, enemies and admirers alike. When your every move and interaction is judged and scrutinized, it's not exactly hard to attempt to cut off the root of the problem. And as far as Jeon Jungkook is concerned, the entirety of humanity is nothing more than a mere nuisance. His greatest wish is to disappear.

You were sorted into Slytherin house before the hat had even touched your head. A feat, the headmaster claimed, only ever once repeated by the pale-haired heir of one of the most infamous, long-storied Pureblood wizarding families in history. Half-blooded and fairly quiet, it didn’t take long for the initial novel interest in you to die down and be replaced with scorn instead. You found yourself largely ignored by your housemates; never bullied, but not quite seen as belonging. You had always preferred your own thoughts and logic to the whimsies of others, but the more-than-passing notion that you had made no meaningful connections throughout your life began to plague your heart more and more. In this life, you wanted nothing more than to be seen.

So when two people, with opposite lifestyles and goals but exceedingly firm beliefs cross paths, why, instead of setting off nasty explosions, were sparks flying magnificently instead?

-🐍-

Honestly, you were very surprised when the sorting hat called out your house with no hesitation.

If you’d asked your father, he’d no doubt say he bled red and gold without a second thought. As a way of bonding with you, he’d share stories of the theatrics and misadventures he and his friends had gotten up to during his time wandering the halls of Hogwarts. He spoke of Quidditch, of friendly ghosts, of beautiful paintings who told them their stories. He spoke of the bravery of red, the goodness of yellow, and the genius of blue.

He spoke with such pride when he looked into your mother’s eyes and swore up and down she’d have been the first to be sorted into any of the three.

He spoke the romance of his youth into a fantasy in your mind, where the courageous were the most dashing heroes to be gracing these four walls. But when he spoke, well…He never mentioned green at all.

You didn’t understand.

Slytherin? Was there something wrong with you?

It’s one thing to be sorted into Slytherin, but another thing to lean so overwhelmingly in that direction that it made you question your own character. You knew stereotypes were just that -- stereotypes, but Slytherins weren’t exactly known for exuding kindness and civility, and you don’t consider yourself a cruel girl. But the sorting hat has proven on several occasions that it absolutely abhors being doubted, so, amongst the stares and whispers, you sucked it up and found your place amongst the snakes you presumed you’d have been warned about had your father even bothered to mention them. And unfortunately, it didn’t take very long for your dreaded prediction to come true.

You were a pariah in your own House.

Not one to bully, you never really participated in the House rivalry Slytherin had going on with the rest of Hogwarts. Rather, you promptly acknowledged that your housemates were pretty similar to you; very prideful and self-assured, so opposing viewpoints weren’t looked upon favorably. You understood them, because they reminded you of yourself. As a matter of fact, the only difference was that your mother had always taught you to learn from those you didn’t agree with so that you could better understand them, though it didn’t mean you had to agree. This common sentiment so often cited in the muggle world was lost on the pureblooded heirs of Slytherin, it seemed. And this glaring at-odds way of approaching dissidents compared to your housemates came from the most muggle thing about you -- your mother.

As a muggle thrust into the wizarding world rather unceremoniously, your mother never could reconcile the sheer divisiveness of the Wizarding Community compared to the Muggle World, where everyone was essentially forced to live amongst and tolerate those with differing views. She quickly learned that the wizarding world was what the muggle world could become if expressing such violent, intolerant sentiments were expressly allowed - thus she promptly raised you as a muggle until the age of 12.

Your father had always been in and out of your life before then, your parents’ relationship in a weird state of limbo that you were entirely sure was your mother’s paranoid doing.

But you -- you were daring, and bold, and opinionated in thought -- a carbon copy of your father. His likeness, his passion, his honesty -- you received it all from him, and it scared her. She was afraid his mere magical existence would influence you, even though your very existence had proven how much hers had influenced him. The countless letters he’d written begging for a chance to live as a family culminated in him willing to give up the entirety of the wizarding world for you two -- the love story of the century, restricted to being known in full only to a select few…Or so you thought.

“Wasn’t her father besodden with a muggle?”

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“A blood traitor’s half-blood spawn in the (L/N) family -- how preposterous!”

Such words had become a common occurrence, and after a while you became numb to the ridicule. You refused to grovel to the ignorant, of course.

But your fantasy Hogwarts life had been ruined, and you spent your days alone with only your own mind for company.

You expected nothing different for your sixth year.

Up to this point, you couldn’t help but wish more and more for a bit of the so-called friendship everyone else took for granted in their day-to-day lives.

You wanted to share your feelings, you wanted to laugh with someone, you wanted a shoulder to cry on. You wanted to become something more than a flower on the wall one would pick at to feel more beautiful, more than a forever-enclosed bud amongst blossoms.

But you were never given that chance, because as strong as your desires were, your pride, values and stubbornness that you got from your father held strong… and reflected unapologetically in just how you were raised by your mother.

And so another year began, bound to be the same.

-🐍-

As an avid reader, you’d like to confidently say that the library was your safe space. All the interesting knowledge you could find was readily available, and the temptation of forbidden texts would always lurk in your heart as well. But surprisingly, you soon came to loathe how populated it could be, and instead found yourself searching for quieter grounds.

Following countless times of getting lost in Hogwarts’ entrapping corridors, you’d promptly made up your mind that it’d be nothing short of justified to sue the historic school for child endangerment. Blood pressure high and mood now sour, you decided to make your way to the school grounds instead.

Angrily stomping along, you weren’t exactly paying attention to your surroundings. So when a whip-like branch suddenly smacked you dead in the face, the sheer volume of the screech that left your lips was enough to startle your attacker as well, the limb that had wrapped itself around your waist rapidly loosening.

Gaining your bearings, you belatedly realize that you had been ferociously attacked by the Whomping Willow.

A bloody tree had just bitch-slapped you into next Wednesday, and then had the gall to act surprised by your reaction.

Hurriedly putting some distance between you and the tree, the massive volume of expletives leaving your lips were enough to make the singular soul who witnessed the entire interaction turn red in embarrassment.

Jeon Jungkook had been minding his business, snugly nestled amongst the branches of a nearby willow tree that wasn’t violent enough to catch a murder charge. He’d found this spot his second year, after realizing that the students rarely got close to even the surrounding areas of the Whomping Willow, too afraid of the possibility of what he was currently witnessing.

His tree was close, but far enough that his presence never triggered an adverse reaction from the perverted deciduous nearby. Any wandering students quickly cleared the area once they realized where they were, so he’d never had to deal with anyone else disturbing his peace.

That is, until now.

As he watched you curse the tree in about a thousand different ways, he noted the Slytherin scarf secured tightly around your neck. He scanned his memories for something familiar, but failed to find your face amongst them. He wasn’t exactly social amongst those of his own year, so this didn’t surprise him.

What did surprise him was when, still cursing, you yanked your wand from your robes and furiously started throwing spells at the Whomping Willow. After watching a few of them hit, he realized that the spells weren’t violent in nature, per se, doing nothing but splattering bright pigments of color against its bark. Reds, oranges, and pinks soon dyed the trunk of the willow, making for an interesting sight.

But, while technically harmless, the influx of attacks did nothing short of enraging it.

The tree’ limbs were violently flailing about as it desperately tried to reach you, who taunted it from a safe distance. Your face was the picture of immense smugness and glee, eyebrows dancing and feet moving about.

“Do you know how much that fucking hurt? You bloody menace, I’m going to come here every single fucking night and paint you in the colors of misery and humiliation! It felt as if my head twisted around my neck -- bloody hell, should I really sue this godforsaken school? Should I just kill this thing? Should I march up to the headmaster with all your pathetic little branches in my arms? Only you can get violent, is that it? You’re lucky you’re getting off with just paint, I should have shaved a few layers of bark off of you to teach you a lesson --” you ranted, hexes flowing freely from your wand even as you talked.

At some point, just the bark hadn’t been enough for you, and you started zapping entire branches an obnoxious shade of blue.

As he watched the spectacle in front of him, a fucking tree going absolutely batshit and a girl with more than just a little crazy in her eyes, for the first time this year, Jungkook lost it.

He laughed so loudly it startled you right out of your hateful monologue, and you whipped your head around to the source of the noise.

That proved to be a dire mistake as your neck froze up in protest, the earlier smack from that stupid tree doing more than a little damage. You fell to your knees rather dramatically, scowling up at the boy in the non-threatening tree he was perched in.

Your face was full of blame as you clutched at your aching neck, and the ridiculousness of the situation only made him laugh harder.

It took several moments for Jungkook to calm himself down, and by that point you’d made yourself comfortable on the same spot you fell at. You had toppled onto your back at some point, staring begrudgingly up at the sky. Noting the lack of laughter in the background now, you carefully inclined your head up again, Jungkook’s upside down countenance coming into view a few feet away from you.

“Are you done laughing at my pain?” you harrumphed.

“You seemed to be handling it pretty well earlier,” he responded cheekily. You felt your face grow warm, choosing to roll your eyes. You made a show of procuring your precious book from your robes, before promptly beginning to leaf through it.

“Are you always so aggressive?”

He didn’t know why he was even talking to you, but you made such a lasting impression on him at this point that it made him curious.There’s little in the way of interest for him nowadays, so to his surprise he found himself drawn to your exceedingly chaotic energy.

You ignored his inquiry as you continued to read, so he took the chance to study your appearance. You were by no means unpleasant to look at, and despite your disheveled appearance he couldn’t help but stare a little. The fact that you were so stubbornly pretending as if he didn’t exist and wasn’t blocking your sunlight was impressive really, and made him snicker a little. The marvels of your face were in full force as your habit of narrating what you read bled through. The pretty pink of your lips formed words he wished to know, telling a story he began quite curiously wishing he was a part of. It wasn’t until the noise of the Whomping Willow still raging in the background rang through again before he snapped out of his daze. Looking back at the tree in embarrassment, he collected himself before turning back to you with a devilish grin.

“Are you insane?” he continued.

The stupid question made you flinch, and you carefully turned towards him again. Were you insane? You didn’t think so. Your stinging cheek and aching neck proved otherwise. By the way, why is he even talking to you? You couldn’t remember ever even having a conversation with this boy, yet he accuses you of being insane?

At this point, you already recognized who he was. The infamous Jeon Jungkook was right here in front of you, suspiciously antagonizing you. You don’t really know how to react. Your lips pursed and your eyes narrow, an expression that rang faint warning bells in Jungkook’s mind.

Sighing, you shook your head and pointed at him in accusation.

“No, you’re insane. How could you watch a young lady such as myself be attacked by such a violent creature without doing anything to help? Isn’t that dereliction of duty as a fellow student? Are all boys these days as pathetic as you?”

Completely caught off guard at the unexpected attack, he gaped at you. He didn’t even know you, yet you so easily accused him of dereliction of -- of -- what duty, exactly?

Did you just twist the entire situation into being his fault? His fault? And did you just call him pathetic?

Pathetic?

Him?

“Are you actually out of your mind?” he choked out, eyes bulging.

Jungook had never been called pathetic in his life, the word making his eyebrows furrow and his neck tense. You had to have been the most absurd person he’d ever met; there was no possible way to wrap his mind around how such an offensive girl with so many large screws loose was sorted into his house.

He jumped down from the tree, making his way towards where you sat. You had begun ignoring him again, going back to your book. He caught a glimpse of the name on the cover as you did so, The Count of Monte Cristo. He’d never heard of such a book before, but he’d also never heard of such a person as you, so of course your tastes would be eccentric as well.

You had leaves on your head from when the tree smacked you, he clocked in amusement. The book you held looked worn and well-loved, the pages wrinkling under your fingertips. You had pretty fingers, he also noted. The look in your eyes had seemed to finally calm down as you peacefully sat while you read, completely ignoring the Whomping Willow and its still ongoing tantrum.

The entire scene before him didn’t seem the slightest bit real, and Jungkook wondered in passing if it was part of your norm to say and do outrageous things without blinking.

“If one has indulged in the greatest revenge story of all time, then one must treat revenge not as insanity, but as a duty,” you said suddenly. He looked at you as if you had two heads, not knowing what to make of you or how to respond…

“Are you talking about you and the bloody tree?” he finally squawked out incredulously.

“Sit down, you’re blocking the sunlight,” you snapped impatiently. For whatever reason, Jungkook did as he was told, seating himself next to you.

This was his first genuine interaction he’s had with someone since his hyungs all graduated, and though out of character, he realized he wanted it to last a bit longer.

Just a little bit.

He still thought you were crazy.

“So you’re saying torturing the Whomping Willow isn’t insane -- it’s just your duty?” he asked incredulously.

“If I feel wronged, I see it justified to want to correct who wronged me.”

“With torture?”

“Did I actually harm it though? It nearly snapped my neck, I’d still be in the right if I did even more.”

“But...you won’t.”

You give him a wry smile, vaguely annoyed that you can’t enjoy your book, but also somewhat enjoying the company.

Even if he was mildly insulting.

“I’m going to come here regularly from now on to put it in its place,” you sniff. After all, it was only fair to vent your frustrations a little more, right? Your emotions had been too pent up recently, this event being the catalyst to a complete meltdown.

You were embarrassed for someone to have witnessed said meltdown, but it’s far too late for regrets.

Jeon Jungkook smelled like mint, wood, and oranges, an odd combination, but not one you could say you disliked. He talked in a pout, like the entire world just existed in order to make him unhappy. So when the corners of his mouth lifted as he snickered at your response, you smiled as well.

You fully realized how insane you look, but you’re used to others judging you anyway.

“You’re something else,” he finally responds, shaking his head.

“No, I’m (Y/N),” you roll your eyes. After a beat of silence, you both snigger at the dumb statement.

And for a while, you two continued to sit there in silence, Jungkook picking at the grass as you read. It was nice, too nice. Your heartbeat gradually started to quicken as you became more self-conscious and hyperaware; you were entirely unused to spending time with someone your age in any way, shape, or form. Jungkook seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowing again as he nicked until the ground around him was bald. You took the time to study his features, everything about him being summed up in one word: pretty. He was just pretty, prettier than you, you thought. The reasons this pretty boy was gracing you with his presence were still lost on you, but you didn’t mind it for the meantime.

“If you were curious,” you started. Why? You didn’t know. For fuck’s sake, you were nervous.

“If you did read the greatest revenge story of all time, you’d understand why revenge is a duty to yourself and to the world.”

There you go again, with your matter-of-fact way of communicating, Jungkook thought.

You don’t speak as someone expressing an opinion, but as someone communicating a fact. Jungkook found that the odd things that came out of your mouth were made to seem as nothing but logical and just - the truth not just as you believed it to be, but as it was. It made him want to understand you, the girl who fought the Whomping Willow, in more detail.

Even now, he didn’t know why he kept talking to you. Well, he did -- he found you interesting. That was the problem.

The only people Jungkook spoke to past necessity were his six hyungs -- who had now all graduated and left him behind. The fact that he was now sitting with someone, a girl no less, and having an actual conversation was frustratingly perplexing. You, (Y/N), smelled like vanilla and smoke, a combination so odd it made his head spin. So When you yet again say something completely outrageous as if it’s the greatest truth ever known, and as his senses began to pick up nothing but that cursed vanilla, Jungkook decided he’d had enough of being high off you.

“No thanks,” he replied, rising to his feet. He didn’t know what to expect in response, but it wasn’t you shoving the book into his hands before you bounded off, and definitely not before you flicked one last hex at that tree.

He clutched the book in his hands as he watched you walk away, finally coming to a conclusion about you.

You were definitely insane.

-🐍-

You quietly ate your dinner in the Great Hall, the chatter of your housemates a welcome distraction from thinking too hard about the events of your day. But foolishly enough, your mind still wandered to the pretty boy every now and then. You were vaguely aware that he sat somewhere amongst your housemates at this table, but you were too stubborn to look around for him. You knew you made quite the impression, but with the rumors you’d heard about Jeon Jungkook, you weren’t even sure if he’d acknowledge even knowing who you were at this point. And now that you’d given him your favorite book, you wanted nothing more than to head to the library to find new reading material. You decided to hasten your dinner, but unfortunately for you, the headmaster had other plans in mind.

Apparently, plans for your utter demise.

“Good evening students,”

Dumbledore had said beforehand that there was something he needed to discuss with the student body, a fact that you’d forgotten until now. You mentally groaned as you turned toward the old man, your escape plan flying out the window.

“It has come to my attention that the Whomping Willow has been vandalized,” he continued. You immediately stiffen, caught off guard. The other students begin whispering, mentions of the now colorful, volatile tree being thrown around. You wanted to literally die on the spot, more uncomfortable than you’d been when you realized that Jeon Jungkook had been watching you.

It was one thing to be the center of attention, but another to be the center of attention with everyone still not knowing who you are. The notion made you uncomfortable, and just reminded you of the fact that you had no one here close enough to recognize you to begin with.

Well, except for that person.

You suppose you should be happy that no one knew it was you, that way you can avoid trouble, but your heart felt heavy instead. You felt like a ghost in what was supposed to be your home for seven years...not that the ghosts here were the type you wanted to be particularly acquainted with.

You still remember the time Moaning Myrtle suggested you die alongside her so that at least you wouldn’t feel lonely...

You had stayed up the entire night that time researching how to successfully murder a ghost.

“Though I understand the willow can be a bit violent, vandalizing it in such a way shall not be tolerated. Please refrain from doing such acts in the future. If you must, avoid the area. If such a thing is repeated, harsh discipline will follow. I trust you students will all behave accordingly.”

You thought your ears were playing tricks on you, but the murmurs of your classmates around you confirmed it. The uncontrollable giggling you thought you heard was coming from Jeon Jungkook himself, sat all the way at the far corner of the Slytherin table. A wide smile had broken the ever-present pout on his face, his head tilted down as he tried to control himself.

Suddenly looking up, he makes eye contact with your horrified countenance, and under the stares of shock and curiosity of his housemates, he throws his head back and guffaws.

You shoot up out of your seat and rush out of the Hall, past Jungkook who only laughed harder. How one singular person could make your heart beat this fast and make being seen, your greatest wish, feel this uncomfortable was beyond you. But you were sure of one thing:

That stupid tree attacked you, you were (technically) reprimanded for your revenge, and now you were being laughed at by the sole witness. The embarrassment was enough to make you shiver.

Yeah, you were definitely going to sue this fucking school.

*

He doesn’t think he’s ever been more entertained by another person in his life. Or, at least not recently. Jungkook found himself genuinely questioning the stability of your emotions and thought process as he watched you storm out of the Great Hall. He was so focused on you and your antics that he didn’t notice all the eyes watching him after his outburst for quite a while.

“Jungkook, did something funny happen? I’d like to know too,” the girl sitting next to him finally questioned, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Jungkook smoothly shifted his body away from her, ignoring the invasive question. His thoughts were still on you, and how ridiculous your expression was. He’d been observing you from the very start of Dumbledore’s speech, and as the man went on, Jungkook found himself more and more amused at the annoyed, indignant look on your face. You, this girl he’d never even noticed before, had suddenly become so distracting that he even began to forget himself.

So distracting that, tipped over by the mortification on your face once the two of you finally made eye contact, he couldn’t help but explode into incredulous, tickled laughter. So distracting that he completely forgot that he, Jeon Jungkook, behaving in such a way was a distraction in of itself and would draw unwanted attention.

And as he finally calmed down and began to finish his dinner amongst the stares, the distraction that was you still plagued his mind even after he had long since left the Great Hall and wandered down the castle corridors. He should have gone farther and down several flights of the magical staircases to get to the Dungeons, but a glimpse of something to his left, outside of one of the windows, caught his attention.

Curiously approaching, a grin soon etched itself across his mouth as the far-off sight of the bespeckled Whomping Willow came into view. The tree was shaking it’s pink-and-orange leaves in anger, still triggered beyond belief at the day’s events.

Jungkook softly sniggered to himself, the sight giving him recall of yet another reminder of yours -- the book you’d left with him. He felt around his robes for a bit before finally grasping it, pulling it out under the soft glow of the moonlight through the windowpane.

The pages of the book were well-worn, a nod to how often those pretty fingers of yours leafed through its pages, he begrudgingly noticed.

The Count of Monte Cristo, as it was titled, promised a tale of grand revenge of the utmost satisfaction, according to the synopsis. Your neurotic insistence on living your life by said book’s principles came to mind, and for the first time in his life Jungkook became fascinated by something made by muggles.

Just as light reading material, he promised himself, tucking the book away safely before continuing his journey.

-🐍-

Jungkook didn’t expect to see you again, or at least not in any real capacity, but when Professor Flitwick was accidentally bitten by one of his numerous venomous plants, Professor Slughorn insisted that he was up to snuff and could take over the duties of both he and Flitwick, thus leading to the merger between the two classrooms.

Now this began a multitude of problems, the first being that Jungkook tended to avoid Slughorn like the plague. Slughorn’s love of geniuses led him to approach Jungkook when they crossed paths in Diagon Alley the summer before his third year. After refusing to take his class in a rather rude manner, Jungkook became the subject of Slughorn’s petty ire, the man insisting to anyone who’d listen how arrogant and questionable of a character he was.

Feud aside, Jungkook absolutely loathed the man, the stories of favoritism and incompetence leading him to view the glory-obsessed man as little more than an eyesore. He’d managed dodging him for three years now, but it seems his luck has finally run out.

The second cause of his problems was none other than the entirety of Gryffindor house itself, or at least the ones who’d managed to be coming along with Slughorn in this merger. Gryffindors were yet another thing he avoided like the plague, their brash, competitive nature often causing them to make bets on who could finally beat him or… who could finally get him.

At least the Hufflepuffs of Flitwick’s class were too shy or polite to actually try anything, but the frequent glances and loud whispers and red scarves reminded him that those days were over. At the very least, Slughorn’s class had also been a mixture with more Slytherins, and those of his house generally left him to his own devices for the most part.

Or so Jungkook thought, until he looks up and sees you bounding toward him in all your glory. No one had actually mustered up the courage to claim partnership with him just yet, the seat beside him in his new classroom currently empty. No, they were too busy daring each other into it or incessantly giggling. It had been all of thirty seconds since he sat his seat before he suddenly found you in his space.

His senses once again filled with vanilla and smoke, his eyes wide as he stared you down.

You were in this class? What were you doing? Why did you come to him?

“Is this seat taken?” You cut off his thought process smoothly, swiftly pulling the chair from out under the table. You looked more put together than when he last saw you, if that was saying anything. Jungkook couldn’t help but think back to the brutal, confident energy you exuded as the filthiest of words flew out of your mouth, the image of you and your wild eyes etched into his mind.

The confidence was still there, but the wildfire seemed to have been replaced with something cooler, more calculative, as you sat beside him.

Jungkook had properly interacted with you all of one time and couldn’t get you out of his mind since, but now that you were sitting in front of him, approaching him first, anything he’d ever thought to have said had flown right out the window.

“You have something of mine. It’s been about a month, I assume you’re all done up, yeah?” You broke the silence again, reaching your hand out expectantly.

“What?” he said dumbly.

Your brows raise, and he swore to God he never felt so dumb under someone else’s gaze before. Holding your stare for a few moments, Jungkook swore he’d never been more red after he finally realized you were referring to your book.

“Oh, yeah. I have it, just not here.” he replied. He watched you as you let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair.

He honestly still couldn’t get past the fact that you actually sat next to him.

“Are you going to stay there?” he said uncomfortably, clocking the fact that half the class was watching their interaction with interest. You seemed to treat the jealous scowls of the others as air, making yourself comfortable as you began pulling out your textbook.

“Where else am I going to go?” you drawled, gesturing to the rest of the classroom. It seems indeed as if everyone else had already found their seats amidst your conversation, but that didn’t stop those who were listening in.

“I’ll switch with you,” piped up a Gryffindor girl rather snidely. She looked vaguely familiar, but as the girl gave him a flirty smile Jungkook found it hard to even recall her name.

Her seatmate giggled as she jabbed her in the side, clearly at least partially the cause of her friend’s boldness.

He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to you. But your attention was still on the girl, who had already gotten up and began gathering her books.

“Sit back down, Crumpet, before I hex you into oblivion.” you sneered.

“I’d like to see you try,” the girl snapped, promptly dropping her books onto your side of the table. Her hand reached for her wand, but yours was faster.

Before anyone could react, you’d charmed her books right as Slughorn walked into the classroom, pomp and circumstance and an annoyingly familiar narcissistic energy arriving with him.

Jungkook fought back the urge to roll his eyes again, still admittedly embroiled in the conflict between you and the Gryffindor girl. He could once again see a sliver of that same girl he saw that day in the current you, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see how this played out.

He couldn’t help but to snicker when he saw what you did to Crumpet’s books, but it seemed the Professor, who’s eyes were now zeroed in on the three of you as Crumpet was still standing, was not as amused.

“Why now -- what are you doing still standing? And who brought food into my classroom?” Slughorn looked outright offended, his hands making their way to his hips in a comical fashion.

Before anyone could say anything else, you smiled sweetly at the man before piping up,

“They’re Amanda’s, sir. Her signature, of course. She made them as a gift for you in appreciation for taking on the difficulties of managing two classes,” you exclaim, ignoring the other girl’s venomous stare.

“Ah! Well thank you, Miss Crumpet,” Slughorn lit up.

“The notion is very well appreciated. Now, if you may please take your seat.”

“O-Of course, Professor! It was my pleasure.” the Gryffindor stuttered out in panic.

The teacher proceeded to observe as Amanda defeatedly made her way back to her original seat, and all the way until she sat down. He watched, and continued to watch, before his brows finally began to furrow.

“Miss Crumpet, where are your books?” Slughorn finally questioned. After a full minute of Amanda failing to find an answer, Slughorn’s hands once again found their way to his hips, and Jungkook’s nostrils couldn’t help but flare as he looked from Slughorn to you, who silently watched your work with blatant fascination.

“Well now, this won’t do. I hope you don’t think I will favor you because of your gift,” Slughorn said unhappily. If there was one thing the man hated more than being rejected, it was being made to look bad. And if Slughorn arbitrarily decided as such, you could go from a hero right back to zero in his eyes.

Jungkook rolled his eyes for the upteenth time that day.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Ms. Crumpet. Gifts will not allow you to escape punishment, children,” Slughorn loudly proclaimed, waving his finger around.

Amanda’s face had turned beet red, before she gathered her things in a hurry as the rest of the class looked on in silence. And just when he thought it was over, you proved that the portrait of the Fat Lady still had some wind in those pipes, and Jungkook nearly died.

“Don’t forget your crumpets,” you trill. You looked the picture of smug as the rest of the class looked at you in abject horror, determined not to cross you in this lifetime. Your reaction was petty, vindictive, and all the more frustrating, confusing, and technically harmless that Jungkook remembered. He was sure his own face was a similar shade to Amanda’s from holding in his laughter for so long.

“I’m going to kill you!” Amanda finally screeched, lunging.

“Stupe--”

“Expelliarmus,” Once again, your hand was quicker, disarming the girl before she could complete her threat.

At this point, Slughorn looked as red as the rest of you, his hands clenched into little fists as he started wheezing out a response to Amanda’s outburst.

“How dare you! Out this instant! The audacity -- to attack another student in front of me! The disrespect! I don’t want you back for the rest of the school year!”

The girl turned ashen, not saying another word as she hurried out of the classroom. Her friend tried to speak up for her, to no avail --

“Miss Crumpet can get her credit through thorough personal study instead. She shall still take her exams like the rest of you. If she cannot respect me or my classroom then she is no longer welcome,” Slughorn harrumphed, and that was that.

That was that, and the grin that stretched across Jungkook’s face mirrored yours as he -- along with the rest of your classroom -- decided that you were, indeed, insane.

-🐍-

You really didn’t mean to cause any trouble at first.

You weren’t exactly nice, so the other Houses were wary of you. You did happen to draw the line at bullying for no reason, so in turn your own House hated you. You were simply true to your own emotions, and little-miss-crumpet triggered your annoyance frighteningly so that day.

If there was one thing you hated, it was to be interrupted.

Following Crumpet’s dramatic exit, Slughorn was quite irritable afterwards. You in all your grace decided to quit while you were ahead, electing to stay quiet the rest of the class.

You could hear the occasional whisper of your classmates about your actions, but you honestly couldn’t care less. You were a friend to exactly zero of them, so you cared even less what they thought of you. For you, that ship sailed a long time ago. Nevertheless, you were still slightly uncomfortable over the frequent looks Jungkook would toss your way throughout the lesson.

Did he want you to actually switch with her? Does he not want to be your partner?

You were so used to being treated with disdain by your peers that you found it difficult to spot any other intentions -- for better or worse. This has saved you a lot of bullshit dealing with some of the two-faced snakes of your House, but definitely didn’t help you to spot genuine interactions and intentions throughout the years. You’ve finally decided to resign yourself to the fact that you’d be alone during your stay at Hogwarts, so you couldn’t understand why exactly Jungkook’s reaction bothered you so much.

Given how riled up you’d already made Slughorn via the Crumpet girl, talking during the class would have been unwise, but Jungkook’s constant staring made you unsettled and paranoid. You had no idea what the boy was thinking, and from what you’ve gathered about how unsocial he is, maybe you really did piss him off by acting too friendly.

You were hyper aware of his presence all the way until the class ended. With every stolen glance, you noticed a bit more about him. His bangs had been swept above his forehead, a single strand hanging stubbornly as he concentrated on his book. Jungkook had the tendency to silently narrate as he read, a quirk that he shared with you. The sight made you smile, and you noticed his plump bottom lip often rolled between his teeth.

He would fiddle with the pages as he read, silver rings glistening on his pale fingers. You wondered how they contrasted with your own, then further wondered if you’d finally lost it.

The thought abruptly ended your reverie.

The two of you sat in silence until the class cleared out, not knowing what to say. You gathered your books without another word from either you or Jungkook, who just quietly watched you from his seat.

Biting your own lip, you spun around and began marching to the door before you felt a squish as your foot slipped out from under you and you fell unceremoniously on your back. Your feet had damn near gone over your head, the pain registering a few moments later. The groan that left your body was ungodly, your mind disoriented and eyes blatantly confused. Your robes had also flown over your head in your fall, and in a tizzy you hurried to right yourself and fix your clothes. Jungkook watched you in your disheveled state with wide eyes, a look of his you’ve come to grow very familiar with.

You take a moment to stare down at the offending cause of your tumble - a golden crumpet, fallen to the floor during the escapade from earlier.

You look at the crumpet, then at Jungkook, who looked at the crumpet, then at you.

You watch his face slowly begin to morph before you shoot up and zoom out the door, a peal of loud laughter following your back.

As your earlier triumphant high faded into intense embarrassment -- a crumpet! Of all things! You had one vindictive, petty, definitely not harmless thought on your mind --

That a muggle lawyer should be able to wipe the floor with a magical one, you supposed. Taking a cue from your father’s distant cousins, the Malfoys, you were sure you’d get the doors of this blasted place shuttered in no time.

-🐍-

You’d be lying if you said you saw it coming. It was one summer. One summer you gave to Jung Jaehyun in exchange for your heart.

You in all your teenage romanticism and delirium reckoned he was the love of your life, in all his brown haired and honey eyed glory. You’d kept those memories under lock and key for years now, determined to never think about the boy again, let alone see him.

So when Jaehyun emerged into the Great Hall with an arm slung around Jungkook’s shoulders, part of you wondered if you’d finally gone as crazy as people claimed.

This was the same boy who swept you off your feet with copious amounts of charm enough to sway even McGonagall, the same boy who suddenly left and never spoke to you again.

When you looked at him then, you saw stars in his eyes. When you look at him now, he seems like a complete fucking devil in disguise.

You watch with thinly veiled disgust as the two sat at the far end of the table, chatting away. A red scarf was wrapped securely around Jaehyun’s neck, causing you to scoff at the irony.

Coward, you thought. The two ignored the looks being sent their way, too engrossed with their own conversation to notice anything else. This was the first time you’d seen Jungkook happy (outside when he was laughing at you), and you felt somewhat unnerved. You wished to see him smile a bit more often, as nice as it was. His ring adorned fingers were flitting about in the air as he animated whatever tale he was spinning for Jaehyun, the most expressive you’d ever seen him. Jungkook really was pretty, his chiseled jawline nicely complementing the softer features of his face. You’d long gotten used to the sound of his laugh, but right now, for some reason, you felt a discomfort at the sight of it being caused by Jaehyun of all people.

You honestly didn’t know which of the two it was directed toward.

You wanted to watch Jungkook in this rare state for a bit longer, but it seems as if Jaehyun finally noticed the holes you were burning into the sides of their faces. His head abruptly turned to level his gaze with yours.

It seemed as if time had stopped for a moment, rendering you the only two in the room. You watched the recognition light up behind his eyes, his face softening into something else -- a smile, but something more. You couldn’t quite figure it out before the boy started gesturing towards you, calling your name loudly.

“(Y/N)!”

You locked eyes with Jungkook first, who looked back at you with shock. Then you face Jaehyun, who was already making his way toward you.

Jaehyun, the supposed… love of your life?

You turned on your heels and ran away.

-🐍🐍🐍-

That’s it for part 1! This will probably be a 3 part mini series. I know it was fairly long and I probably should have split this one into two parts but I hope you all enjoyed it! Please comment and reblog :) anyone who’d like to join the tag list drop a comment as well!

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I HAVE MOVED SAVIOR TO @rosecolouredmind. Thanks

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IN LIGHT OF S4 COMING OUT:

I am going to take Savior off of Hiatus. The Hero You Need will also probably be updated soon now that I have more time to do so.

I WILL MOST LIKELY take the current chapters of Savior out for reediting and reposting. I will turn it into a limited series of a certain amount of parts instead of an ongoing series. That matches my time and willingness to write more lol. I’m sorry for those who have been waiting! Current chapters may or may not come down.

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THE HERO YOU NEED

Chapter Four

Chapter Three Here

Your punishment was severe as the man who gave it. Not only were you and Malfoy late, for which he docked an entire 20 house points each for, but the two of you were also the only two students left after a round of interhouse pairing Snape had implemented prior to your arrival. Apparently the school wanted to promote unity within Hogwarts, though the deep glower on your professor’s face as he spat out said plan spoke volumes to what he actually thought of it all.

Malfoy had been strangely silent as Snape ripped into you two, and also when you settled into your two-person desk for the year. His lack of reaction made you quite uncomfortable, and the pitying looks Hermione kept sending your way every so often weren’t helping.

It wasn’t nice being called names, especially ones as foul as the Malfoy boy tended to utter. Your disappointment was palpable, the atmosphere between the two of you wrought with tension. You try not to glance over at the boy next to you, but that’s proving harder than you’d initially thought. Snape had already given you your first assignment, a potion who’s name you were too zoned out to hear. You watched as pale fingers slip down the page quietly, carefully following lines of directions. You considered yourself quite splendid at potions, but the careful, methodical motions Malfoy performed as he began cutting and measuring ingredients seems to make your abilities pale in comparison. You continued to watch him in a daze, still not making eye contact but instead brewing another kind of intensity in the air. Suddenly, Malfoy shifts, his body abruptly facing your direction.

“Are you going to be this useless all year?” He snapped, gripping the edge of the cauldron. His harsh words snapped you out of your reverie, reminding you that you are indeed still in the middle of class. Your neck flushes hot, your eyes finally snapping up to meet his.

For someone who’s nostrils are flaring in annoyance, the blonde boy looked almost awkward. His posture was slightly off, and his free hand fidgeted with his robes. Not one to adjust well to embarrassing yourself, you scoop up the nearest ingredient before crushing it in your hands over the pot.

“There,” you squeaked. You stared at Malfoy, and Malfoy stared at you.

As the boy’s brows drew closer and closer together, and the sound of bubbling from your cauldron grew louder and louder, you resigned yourself to admitting —

“I think I fucked up —”

BOOM.

Your concoction seemed to implode on itself, before rapidly expanding in a muted explosion. Most of it splattered back into the pot, but a good chunk went straight for your face, having just peered into the pot when you realized your mistake.

Your eyes instantly squeezed shut, your face now entirely dyed purple. Silence blanketed the classroom, a few beats going by before a loud laugh pierced the room, a roar of cacaphony and jeers following.

Your first official day at Hogwarts and you already wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The sophisticated image you’d worked tirelessly to nurture at Ilvermorny instantly flew out the window here, and you felt as if you’d possibly never come back from this with Professor Snape, who was currently attempting to no doubt murder you with his eyes.

Malfoy stood across from you gaping, questioning your sanity and intelligence. In no universe did he expect for something like this to happen. Why in the bloody hell did you even do that? Weren’t you supposed to be smart? What happened to the confident, self-assured girl he met on the train? The misfortune that was your face right now made the snarky Slytherin feel a little bit better about what happened between the two of you, and he felt himself relax a little bit more. At least you weren’t as perfect as he thought.

The grin spreading across Malfoy’s face filled your poor teenage soul with even more despair than you thought possible, embarrassed out of your mind.

One abrupt cough from Snape was enough to calm the class down, the man coldly instructing you to get out of his classroom and visit Madame Pomfrey. You gladly fled the scene, eager to free yourself from the situation. You faintly heard Snape demanding Malfoy to follow after you as you exited the classroom, to your despair.

Why was the universe doing this to you?

“You don’t seem to be as bright as you think you are, Hightower,”

“I swear I’m not as dumb as I’ve made myself look.”

You spoke at the same time; stricken dumb at each other’s words. He processes what you said before guffawing boisterously, bending at the waist.

The sheer delight and astonishment on his face surprisingly helped bring down your own emotional high, and you uncurled your hands from the fists you’d clenched them into. This boy was laughing at you, but for some reason the sound calmed your nerves.

How annoying.

“I just so happen to be a wonderful student. Hogwarts just doesn’t seem to agree with me is all,” you sniffed, speeding up your pace. The loud laughter still trailing behind you was enough to bring a small smile to your face, your shoulders finally releasing as well.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he replied, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice.

You ignored him, walking a few more paces with your nose turned up before Malfoy cleared his throat behind you.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

Not even needing to turn to hear the lilt in his voice, you froze. Whipping around, you face him once again to see his brows nearly hidden by his hairline. His face screamed amusement, and you cursed your own name for the nth time that day for repeatedly embarrassing yourself.

“Malfoy,” you attempted to say evenly. He wiggled his brows at you, leaning against a nearby wall.

“Hightower,” he drawled.

“Would you be so kind as to escort me to the hospital wing?”

“I guess Snape ordered me to do so, Hightower. Besides, wouldn’t want to disappoint you, now, would I?”

You half expected to be met with snark, but weren’t prepared for the humor laced in his voice. Malfoy turned and started walking in the opposite direction, clearly rubbing in your face that you’d hadn’t the slightest idea of where you were going.

Clearly.

You rushed to follow him, eyes focused on his figure from behind.

“You know,” you began thoughtfully. “You aren’t so bad most of the time. Fun, even. But you say awfully mean things, especially around your so-called friends.”

This seemed to throw Draco off quite a bit, as he began sputtering for a reply.

“Yes, well, some people should know their place is all.” He finally eked out.

“Yeah; what a grand mindset, you weasel,” you rolled your eyes. Now it was Draco’s turn to whip around to you, face aghast.

“I am not a weasel! Don’t ever compare me to those redheaded bumpkins!”

“A..ferret then...?” You raised your brow. He studied the self-satisfied smile on your face for a few seconds before rolling his eyes, continuing his journey. It was best not to respond at all in his opinion, you would only snark back.

“Ferrets aren’t weasels,” you sang. “At least not technically.” You could feel hot triumph bubble in your chest at the sight of the twitching at the corner of his mouth, the boy clearly fighting back a smile.

“I am a terrifying snake,” he joked, gesturing to the Slytherin crest on his robes. “Clearly superior to such mammals. I eat them for breakfast.”

You choked out a laugh, surprised by his sudden willingness to joke around with you.

“Don’t badgers actually eat snakes for breakfast?” You point out. You could see the gears turning in his head as Draco stops dead, flabbergasted. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, you tiptoe around him, satisfied.

“I guess us Hufflepuffs are tougher than you thought, huh Draco?” You smiled sweetly, prancing off into the hospital wing you’d just arrived at.

Draco stood still for a few moments, replaying the entire conversation he’d just had with you in his head. For some reason, he couldn’t stop grinning, completely amused with the easy banter he falls into with you. Yes, he was smiling at your admittedly higher than average wit, that was all.

Definitely not because you called him Draco again.

*

Madame Pomfrey was very good at what she does. She fixed you up in no time, your face coming back to its original color alongside your dignity. You got on quite nicely with the older woman, promising to return and study under her mentorship whenever you could. Magical properties and their effects on human anatomy was quite possibly the most important aspect of your studies towards the kind of witch you wished to be, and you were thrilled such an astounding mentor was actually found here at Hogwarts.

Surprisingly, Draco waited for you. He insisted it was because he didn’t want to deal with the torment of the class (or Snape for that matter) upon his return, but that didn’t keep you from noticing the way his neck and ears turned red.

“Can’t get enough of me, I see,” you teased.

He raised a brow at you, stepping forward before leaning in ever so slightly. Your gazes locked, and by the gods your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. The boy really did have gorgeous features, especially those striking eyes of his peering down at you.

“You really have been quite bold for someone who’s face had been purple this whole time,” he said calmly, studying your face for a reaction.

“Well,” you replied evenly, “it’s not now. And I think,” you took a bold step forward, “that I was flustering you regardless of the color of my face.”

Your chests were now nearly pressed together, your faces even closer. Draco smirked down at you, clearly entertained by the playfulness swimming across your features. He doesn’t remember the last time he was able to enjoy teasing, friendly conversation like this with someone. It seemed as he got older, his family got colder. He was sure his father was anticipating something, though he wasn’t quite sure what. Either way, he’d never felt any particular warmth from the man to begin with.

And his friends are just...not particularly great people. Sure, there was the Slytherin loyalty between them, but he doubted any of them understood who he was past his last name.

He’d finally met someone who even his parents were sure to like, someone his friends would like, someone he liked, but she—

Gods, she was infuriating! A bloody Hightower a blood traitor! Did she really think those filthy weasels and that mudblood and Potter were a better choice in friends? And choosing Hufflepuff over Slytherin even after they confided in each other? What was wrong with her?

What was wrong with him?

“Draco?”

You watched the frustration develop in Draco’s face in real time as he clenched his jaw, suddenly widening the space between the two of you by several feet. The loss of body heat was stark, just as much as the chilliness now embedded in Draco’s face. He slowly opened his mouth to no doubt spew some random venom, but the hot rage boiling in your veins bubbled up through yours first—

“Before you even speak,” you seethed. “I know you Draco Malfoy. Probably better than those buffoons you call friends, and that’s just from one conversation. And you know me. I don’t know what the hell you just convinced yourself of in that thick ass head of yours, but it’s not true.”

What?

Sorry, what?

What the bloody hell was she on about?

Draco watched you in complete befuddlement (a sensation he’s become increasingly more familiar with after knowing you) as you drew nearer, angrily ranting and poking at his chest. He hadn’t said a single word to you before you just blew up at him, a sudden hurricane to meet the storminess that had no doubt been emitting on his own part.

His brows grew closer and closer together the longer your rant got, the intensity of your voice only amplified by the echo of the hallway.

Your hands were still moving about wildly, your lips glistening. He watched the way your throat moved up and down with each word, entranced. What were you saying? What were you saying?

How could you know him so well without him even saying a word?

“—and if you think that just because you want me to be that I can be strong enough to do what I wanted without caring about what other people thought? What you said the other day hurt Draco! Especially coming from you! You can’t go walking around and being a bloody dick to everyone just to entertain your friends and then turn around and scold me! You were being a hypocrite then and you’re being one now! I know you convinced yourself that I’m the enemy somehow, and —“

And you continued. Draco did not know how the hell (Y/N) Hightower, a Hufflepuff witch who hung around the likes of Potter and his gang, a clumsy bobble head who blew up her own face, a frustratingly attractive enchantress —

Could read him for filth in that exposing, soul-baring way unique to her, but apparently you did, because —

“I know what you’re thinking,” you huffed, your shoulders rising up and down. You took a moment to catch your breath, your mouth completely dry. You didn’t expect yourself to explode in the way you did, but when you witnessed Draco drawing into himself again, felt the doubt start to creep in his mind as the frown crept across his face, you just knew,

“We’re the same. You and I are just alike — we were raised as certain people meant for certain things and are expected to do whatever it takes to maintain that. We play the part to the point that— that we don’t even know who we are, only who people want us to be. And then we question the motives of everyone we interact with — are they here for us, or— or—,” you trailed off, suddenly self conscious. Suddenly the halls seemed especially large, and your voice seemed especially large, and Draco seemed especially large —

“For who they want us to be, right?” Draco rasped out, finishing your sentence. He was silent, and then his shoulders were shaking, and then his voice starting shaking as he threw his head back and laughed.

He was laughing at you again, and you damn near screamed.

Just when you thought your humiliation for the day was over, you go and do something to make it come back full force.

Why do you do this to yourself?

How could you be so presumptuous? How could tell him you knew what he was thinking just because of his face? Did he make you that insecure?

Something about the sudden drop in Draco’s mood reminded you of yourself, yes. Just when you started to get close to people you found yourself questioning their motives and reasonings for knowing you; hell, you don’t even know yourself, so how could someone else claim to?

You saw that same type of insecurity in Draco - or at least you thought you did, but truth is you aren’t a damn mind reader and you just went off on some insane rant to a boy who’s not above taking advantage of it if he really wanted to.

Your eyes were wide as you just stared at Draco, who was still laughing at you. Of course he was, you’d made a complete fool of yourself. You were determined to write an owl to your parents first thing in the morning to save you form your misery and allow you to go back to Ilvermorny in peace —

“You’re something else, Hightower.” Draco interrupted, cutting off your increasingly escalating thoughts.

The chime of the bell signifying the end of the class followed, and the once empty hallway began to flood with students. Draco had finally calmed down as well, still facing you as people meandered around you.

“I don’t know about being the same person and all that,” he sniggered. You could feel your face burning in shame, but his next words surprised you.

“But I do know that we’re going to be partners for the next year. I’ll try to be civil if you do. Also, no more rants, no matter how freakishly accurate they are,” he murmured. He slowly widened the space between you once again, before turning his back on you.

“Wouldn’t want you to come after me for breakfast, right? Might as well play nice,” he twisted back, wigging his brows before completely turning away and disappearing his way into the crowd.

You were stupefied for a good moment, not even noticing the annoyed glances people shot your way as they brushed past you. Your lips finally curling up, you twirled and sauntered on your way as well.

And yet another time since you two met, Draco Malfoy made you smile.

***********

Author’s Note: clearly there’s a few canon changes I will make such as certain classes and their makeup. Also, I had to rewrite the second half of this TWICE because Tumblr deleted half my fucking draft godDAMN was I pissed but anyway that’s why it took so long to come out and is shorter than normal 🤧

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If you’d like to be added to the tag list, leave a comment or ask!

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I’m bound by law to reblog this

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. THE HERO YOU NEED .

. Chapter Three .

. Chapter Two Here .

Merlin’s beard, you had no idea what was going on. As a fourth year, you were somewhat expected to know how Hogwarts worked at this point. That included finding your way to the very hard-to-find Potions classroom. Only after catching one equally late sixth year and asking for directions did you find out the elusive class was located in the literal dungeons on the other side of the school. No matter how quickly you rushed there you knew you would be late, and from what you’d heard from the Golden Trio about how strict Professor Snape was, you would no doubt face punishment for your tardiness. As you flew down the halls in a flurry, your first meeting with the trio overtook your mind.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me I have the meanest professor for my first lesson!” You whined to Cedric. He rolled his eyes at you, plopping down on a nearby loveseat in the Hufflepuff common room. Just a few minutes ago you’d learned that the place was connected to the Hogwarts kitchens, something that once again brought you back to your time at Ilvermorny. The kitchen staff in the American school was of the free variety, various creatures employed in order to serve mealtime for the school’s students. You and your group of friends had long befriended the head cook, along with the rest of the kitchen staff, and often snuck down for late night snacks whenever you needed to endure particularly long nights of difficult studies. The house elves of Hogwarts seemed rather sweet, but you couldn’t help but turn your nose a bit at the archaic and in humane form of “employment” as well. Though you were sure they were treated fairly, you kept the thought at the back of your mind that you’d surely offer one or two a scarf, though you weren’t quite certain it would work. “Snape isn’t so bad as long as you do what you’re told... and don’t look particularly lost. Or dumb,” Cedric sniggered, breaking you from your thoughts. You shot a pointed look at him, finding your place on the armchair adjacent to him. “Mind you, a dumb look on my face is the first thing people notice about me half the time,” you joke. He grins in response, and you’re once again charmed by how handsome he is. The boy seemed as if he’d stepped out of a storybook, the picture of the knight in shining armor or Prince Charming so often wrote about.

“He’s a fine teacher, just a bit cold is all,” he reassures. You allow his words to settle you into a tentative ease, though you feel it deep in your heart that your Potions class won’t go quite the way you’d like it to. As if sensing your unresolved tension, Cedric perked up, making a suggestion.

“I believe you share that class with a few Gryffindors in your year. We still have quite a bit until curfew. Would you like me to introduce you to some?”

You leapt at the suggestion, eager to make new friends. Specifically ones who could save you through the torture of weathering Snape’s class alone. Cedric guided you to a very specific portrait of a particularly large woman, where he cajoled some unsuspecting Gryffindor into sharing the password, allowing you entrance into the Gryffindor common room. As you expected, the boy was popular enough that no one seemed particularly bothered as you waited around for whomever he wanted you to meet. He easily slipped into conversation with those around him, and you were envious of his congeniality. You had expectations set upon yourself by your mentors and peers back in America to be something similar, though the effort for you was a lot more draining than Cedric made it look. For some reason, your mind drifted to the Malfoy boy, whom you sincerely doubted gave the time of day to anyone he deemed bothersome or not worth his breath. Despite this, he possessed a magnetism that allowed him to easily control whatever room he was in. You could admire that type of personality, though the narcissism and self-importance was something you could do without. It didn’t take you long to realize that the two boys each had traits that you could only hope to emulate, confidence and charm. Though it manifested in different ways for the both of them, you couldn’t help but be drawn in. If only you could find a happy medium between their two ideals.

“Oh, (Y/N)! These are the people I was telling you about,” Cedric started, getting up and making a beeline toward three students who’d just entered the common room. There was a rather cute boy with dark hair and round glasses, a distinct scar on his forehead. Even you, an American, knew who this boy was. The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. His green eyes pierced through you, a curiosity settled deep that he couldn’t quite hide. Next to him was an endearingly cute red headed boy, shaggy locks being impatiently shaken out of his eyes. He seemed a bit standoffish, giving you the idea that he wasn’t much comfortable with those who’s motives he was unsure of. And finally, a pretty girl with curly brown hair stood to the far left, clutching a pile of books to her chest. She stared at Cedric rather crossly, a pout forming on her lips.

“Mr. Diggory, it is quite inappropriate for a Hufflepuff to be in the Gryffindor common rooms. Though, as you’re older, I’m quite sure you know this already,” She huffed, tightening her grip on her books.

Harry gave her an embarrassed shush before turning back to Cedric, nervously sticking his hands in his pockets. The redheads boy roll his eyes before digging out a bag of treats from who knows where, stuffing several into his mouth.

“Well get on with it then, Diggory. What do you want?” He said gruffly, crumbs flailing from his mouth. The disgusted look on the girls face coupled with the increasingly embarrassed look on the other’s drew out a giggle from you, until it was your turn to be embarrassed once their three pairs of eyes landed on you.

“I want you to meet someone,” Cedric exclaimed proudly, once again slinging an arm across your shoulders.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said softly. “I’m (Y/N) Hightower.”

“Hightower?!” The redhead’s eyes bulged. “As in the American Wizarding family Hightower??”

“The very one.”

“Blimey! Well it’s nice to meet you. Ronald Weasley, by the way, but call me Ron,” the boy reached out a crumb-filled hand to you. You genuinely wanted nothing more than to laugh, his brashness setting you at ease. Harry seemed as if he’d rather crawl in a hole and die, while the girl could stare a hole into Ron’s head and it still wouldn’t be enough to describe how piercing her glare was.

“Excuse his manners,” she clipped, smacking Ronald’s hand down. “I’m Hermione Granger. A pleasure to meet you.”

You elected to shake her much cleaner hand instead, tickled by the entire interaction. Ron looked positively insulted by Hermione’s interruption, choosing to sheepishly wipe his hands on his pants in response. Cedric and Harry snickered at his misfortune, before each receiving a sharp look from Hermione in return.

“Nice to meet you too Hermione,” you greeted, clasping her hand. The girl gave you a tight-lipped grin, clearly not keen on warming up to you just yet.

“And you are?”

Cedric raised a brow at you as you turned to Harry. The two of you had touched on the topic of the infamous boy’s attendance at Hogwarts before, but if anything you could empathize with the annoyances that came with being high profile. The amount of times someone introduced you to yourself was astonishing. You much preferred giving your name yourself, thank you, and you were fairly certain it must be the case for the boy in front of you as well.

“I’m Harry,” he said shyly, gripping your hand. “It’s nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“Well, now that we’re all acquainted, let me tell you why we’re here,” Cedric drawled, once again placing his arm around your shoulders. It’s quickly become a habit of his, though you certainly didn’t mind. Your familiarity with Cedric was only growing stronger, the older student proving to be somewhat of a homing beacon for you in the ginormous castle. You’d felt guilty for taking up so much of his time, but he insisted that you weren’t a bother. You were excited to possibly make new friends so you could stop inconveniencing him.

“(Y/N) here is obviously new, and her first class is with you guys...which means Snape is the teacher. I trust you know what that means I’d appreciate it if you guys looked out for her,” he continued.

“I’m not a child, you know,” you huffed.

“And I am an excellent student. Snape will love me,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“What happened to “I heard he’s terrifying! Save me, Cedric!”” He mocked, ruffling your hair. You screech in response, tackling him to the couch. The other three watch on in amusement, entertained by your antics. After a few more moments of rib-aching jabs and pinched skin, you removed yourself from Cedric and rearranged your robes.

“I swear, I’ve known him less than a week and he already reminds me of an annoying older brother,” you apologize to the trio, smoothing down your hair. This elicits another wheeze from the boy, still clutching his ribs you spent so much time “taking care of”.

“It would be quite nice to make friends, though, if that’s all right with you.” You finished shyly. Hermione marched forward and grabbed hold of your arm, steering you back towards the door. Was she kicking you out? Was she that bothered by your presence?

Your mind raced along nearly as quickly as your heart as she ignored the calls of the boys behind you.

“We’re going to the library,” she called out, not turning around. “We need a break from you buffoons.”

The small grin on her face wasn’t lost to you, a matching one spreading across your as well.

“I actually brought a few copies of my favorite books from Ilvermorny about natural magic and rituals. I figured Hogwarts wasn’t quite as well stocked on American magical literature, Native or otherwise. Would you like to stop by my room to grab them?” You offered. Hermione gasped in response, excitedly chattering about how interested she’d been in magical practices from other cultures recently. As she continued on, you found yourself smiling again.

You supposed you made a new friend.

*

You and Hermione agreed that you’d meet her at the library once you picked up your books, as she wanted to stop by the owlry as well. You made your way down the corridors, walking slowly in order to take in the architecture of the castle. Hogwarts was definitely built beautifully, if not a little hauntingly. It much suited the castle to have a few ghosts flying around indeed! Your neck was bent back at an almost 90 degree angle as you stared up at one of the arches at the top of the wall.

There was a particular arch that didn’t align properly with the rest of the ceiling, and if you stared hard enough, you could see a thin line running from the arch all the way down the wall. Following the line, you didn’t realize that you were headed right for a group of students in front of you until you crashed into one of them, falling backwards.

“Watch where you’re going, filthy mudblood—” someone snarked, choking in the middle of their sentence. You look up from your place on the floor, not surprised in the least to see those same grey eyes you’d been thinking about so often once again staring back at you. Three others stood behind him, two hulking boys most certainly well loved by their mothers of their figures stood for anything, and a rather dashing darker skinned boy, who eyed you up and down. It was the first time you’d seen both disdain and interest in one facial expression, causing you to roll your eyes for the millionth time since stepping foot into Hogwarts.

“You want to finish that sentence, Draco?” You drawled, picking yourself up off the ground.

“W-well, blood traitor then.” He stuttered. “Anyway, watch where you’re going!”

“Or what?” You teased, stepping forward until you two were face to face. You could feel his soft breath on your lips, adding more excitement to the blood pounding in your ears. You don’t know what came over you, but suddenly you felt the urge to challenge the boy to his limits, just to see what he’d do.

It seemed as if Draco didn’t know himself, his hands nervously gripping around his robes. You smirked at him, backing off a bit.

“I’ll let the name-calling slide,” you offered. “But I expect you to be better than that. We aren’t controlled by our parents, remember?”

Your comment was in reference to the conversation you had with Draco on the train about expectations set on the two you.

“They act as if I can’t be in control of my own life,” he’d complained. “It’s ridiculous.”

You’d nodded along sagely, long familiar with controlling parents. “No matter what our parents say, we make our own choices. We decide the type of people we’ll be,” you reminded him.

A few minutes later, Draco indeed showed you who he was choosing to be at the moment, which was the perfect little prejudiced elitist his parents raised him to be. Nevertheless, as he stormed out of your cabin, you couldn’t ignore the spark of hope you felt that he would come to his own conclusions and change the ways his parents set upon him.

After all, Draco Malfoy was his own man, and with intelligence to match the ego on that boy, he was sure to find that out for himself one day.

“What would Hufflepuff trash know anyway,” he finally said. “You were all talk, but in the end you were afraid of your own power and chose to be a coward. Cowards do belong in Hufflepuff after all, I guess.”

You’d be lying if you said he words didn’t sting, and you felt a lump building in your throat. The train ride to Hogwarts had been a long one, and for some stupid reason, you confided in Draco more than you admitted to anyone else before. The ache in your chest had your nose starting to sour, unbelievably put off.

Initially you thought the two of you were kindred spirits, so you’d told the boy everything about your life, even your insecurities. So for him to use them against you in this manner...

“Everyone thinks so highly of my future. But when my wand chose me, some of them became...”

“Scared.” the blond finished for you. You nodded back sadly, clutching said wand between your hands. “My wandmaker’s creations have a propensity for dark magic. It made their owners powerful, but a lot of them strayed to the Dark Arts as a result.

“No doubt because people kept telling them that’s all they’re good for, like they’re trying to tell you!” Draco shot to his feet suddenly. You stared, dumbfounded, before he realized he was standing in the middle of the compartment awkwardly. His face turned scarlet as he slammed himself back into his seat.

“Sorry. It’s just, that Picquery lady, right? She made something good out of herself didn’t she?”

Excited that he’d actually listened, you didn’t realize that you had scooted yourself closer to the boy.

“Exactly! She’s my role model. People were intimidated by her at first, but then she made herself an indespensible figure of her time! And I’m certain she would have been sorted into Slytherin had she went to Hogwarts. But recently...” You felt as if your parents sending you to Hogwarts was counterproductive to the kind of witch they wanted you to be, but when you questioned them, all you got was silence in return.

“The Dark Arts have been on the rise again, especially here. And if I’m sorted Slytherin of all houses as well, I think..” you trailed off. Draco gloomily stared back at you, knowing exactly where you were going with this.

“You said you didn’t like people assuming the worst of you based on your wand, yet you’re doing the same thing for an entire House. You’re really going to deny who you are just because of the opinions of others?” He sulked, slumping back. You looked back at him in a daze, shocked to have someone spell out your internist thoughts so clearly.

“I guess you’re... right. But do I accept who I am, or do I place myself in the position to be the person I want to be?” You questioned, sulking as well. Draco studied you for a second, only just realizing how close the two of you were. He grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well, I’d say we’re both bloody amazing, so we’ll sort ourselves out at some point, don’t you think?” He winked, laying on all the cheese in the world. You broke into a fit of giggles, utterly charmed.

And only a few moments later was the magic broken, when any previous talk about believing in each other was overshadowed by Draco’s own prejudices after he’d just lectured you about your own. How...

“Hypocritical. That’s not exactly the type of person we talked about being, was it Malfoy? But I’m sure you’re making your parents proud,” you seethed, forcing your way through his group. You’d had enough of the conversation, and had had enough of putting your hopes into Draco Malfoy.

Draco was completely floored at your use of his last name, and the utter disappointment dripping from your voice. It had been a full minute of him staring at direction you’d left in before he felt a harsh shove to his shoulder, whirling around to see an incredulous Blaise Zabini in his face.

“Who the bloody hell was that? You’re getting acquainted with Hufflepuffs now?” The other boy questioned, brows raised to his hairline. Crabbe and Goyle grunted in affirmation, looking to Draco for answers as well.

“No one of concern. She’s just a filthy blood traitor,” he spat, as if he had to convince himself of that fact as well. He tried to ignore the throbbing feeling he felt in his chest, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as he friends continued to rib him for answers. He was used to disappointing his parents, but why did the thought of disappointing you bother him so much?

“She was pretty hot though,” Zabini sniggered, earning a sharp look in return. Officially fed up with both himself and his friends, Draco stormed off, his mind a flurry of conflicting thoughts and feelings.

~

Snapping yourself out of your memories, you’d finally made it to the dungeons. And when you flung open the door to the Potions room, the first thing you saw was the blue tie around the neck of a Ravenclaw student.

Sitting next to her was a Slytherin boy, who’s face was enough to give away that he was clearly unhappy with the seating arrangement. You stood in the doorway panicking, searching for the familiar head of curly hair wrapped in a red and gold scarf, only for your heart to drop as she was already sitting next to a girl from your own house.

Dying inside, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt something hard slam into your back, nearly knocking you off your feet. Indignant, you look up to once again see a familiar head of blonde hair and even more familiar grey eyes staring down at you, eyes wide in shock.

That shock quickly turned to apprehension as you heard heavy footsteps coming your way, turning back to see black robe covered feet stopping in front of you. And by the soft “shit” you heard coming from Malfoy’s mouth, you lifted your head, coming face to face with who you could only assume was one very disgruntled Professor Snape.

And, but of course, you were a couple of very late students.

* * * * * * * *

[Author’s Note: Keep in mind that I’m going to be making a few changes to canon in this story. I’ll give warnings and point them out as they happen :) Also, this was entirely written on my phone while drunk, so if there’s any errors of formatting issues just remember that my name is T-Pain :)]

comment or send in an ask to be tagged! I can respond to asks but not comments as this is a side blog lol

Tag list: @dreams-in-blxck @fire-lady-livi @welpshitshit @redheaded-hobbit @iriaeden

If your name is in black it wouldn’t let me tag :(

[unaccomplishedwriter]

I tried Among Us today

[unaccomplishedwriter]

Firstly, I will of course add you to the Hero You Need tag list, and secondly, I HAD to reblog this because it’s literally my favorite book on God’s green earth and I’m so stoked to see someone love it as much as I do

🥺🥺🥺

[unaccomplishedwriter]

THE HERO YOU NEED

. Chapter Two .

- Chapter One here -

if there were ever anyone close to being the personification of perfection, it would be Cedric Diggory.

The older boy was a hit with the first-years, and everyone else actually. He was kind and informative, making sure the younger ones were made to feel welcome and comforted. You watched with interest as he animatedly explained how the Hogwarts staircases worked to the crowd of students behind him, fiddling with your wand as always. Following behind slowly, your mind began to wander as you blocked out the noises surrounding you.

Hufflepuff was a choice you’d made after careful deliberation; their house values most matched what you wanted yourself to achieve as a wizard. You were no stranger to the history of Beauvais wands; their propensity for dark magic contributed to much of the doubt surrounding Seraphina Picquery in her earlier days. But she made her place, as will you yours. Your dream was to become a living counter to dark magic; someone who could strengthen all aspects of magic through extensive study of its usages, dark magic included. Your wand was powerful, and held exactly the kind of power you needed if you were to be able to research your goals as extensively as possible. Magical application was one thing, but learning how magic affected the body as thoroughly as possible would prove to be an invaluable asset to the fundamental understanding of magical power to begin with. Hufflepuffs were similar to Pukwudgies in that sense; their members were often curious and good-natured, usually going on to have careers that were based in care.

After the incident as a child, you wanted nothing more but for others to never have to go through such a thing again, even if you had to study the usage of the very dark magic you were so afraid of.

A sudden emptiness beneath you snapped you out of your thoughts, your body suddenly being jerked back and into open arms.

“Are you okay?” 

Frantically panted the lips near your ear. Your heart was pounding, and all thoughts in your head flew out the window. What on earth happened? Why...

“You nearly got yourself killed! Were you listening at all?” that same voice scolded. You finally snapped out of your thoughts, turning your head only to meet with someone’s chest. Your nose met with a soft, warm and good heavens, he smells like caramel --  neck before trailing upwards, coming face to face with one very flustered Cedric Diggory. Desperately piecing your scattered brain together, you realized that you two were standing just a foot back from where a staircase had previously been; now just an empty abyss that you’d nearly walked right into. 

“I’m so sorry!” you stuttered.

“My mind was elsewhere.” 

“And was elsewhere worth nearly falling to your doom?” he raised a brow. You almost apologized again before you noticed the suppressed quirk of his lip - he was making fun of you. You rolled your eyes and pulled away, only just registering how close you two still were. He let his arms fall from around your shoulders, his hand lingering in your hair for just a moment before brushing it off your shoulder as it fell. 

“Maybe,” you teased, resuming your trailing of the first years, now following behind another well-meaning senior.

“Was I that boring?” Cedric grinned, twirling to face you as he walked backwards. The irony of the boy who just chided you for not watching your step walking backwards just to speak to you was not lost on you, and a mirthful smile painted your lips. His cinnamon-brown locks were swept out of his face, cheeks seemingly forever flushed a lovely red hue. You’d known him for all of two minutes and could already tell he possessed a magnetic charm. He reminded you of one of your friends back at Ilvermorny, Ben, and the smile on your face grew wider.

“Not really, but if you were half as klutzy as you are charming, I’d think I was in the wrong country,” you replied thoughtlessly. You could tell from the confused look on Cedric’s face that the sentiment was lost on him, so you rushed to fill in the blanks.

“I mean -- you remind me of my friend is all. For all the charm that oozes out of Ben, I swear he lacks the same amount of grace,” you sniggered, delighting at the thought of your awkward (yet somehow still immensely popular) friend. 

“You guys are around the same age, too.” you added. 

Cedric slowed to a stop in front of you, forcing you to stop as well. He leaned in close, close enough for you to smell the sweet scent of the chocolate frogs on his breath that he’d no doubt eaten on the train -- before bringing a hand up to rest on your head.

“All I’m getting from that comparison is that you think I’m charming,” he said. Face burning, you brush his hand aside as he lets out a loud laugh, stepping back. You feel him sling his arm around your shoulders as you guys start walking again, a rather familiar act for such a stranger. You found yourself rather comforted by his presence, a welcome reminder of the warmth of your friends back home you’d been missing. 

“Rather familiar already, Cedric?” you ask pointedly. Cedric raises both brows at you this time, tightening his grip.

“I’d say we’re best friends already, wouldn’t you? You even called me Cedric!” he joked.

“That’s because I’m an American,” you rolled your eyes. “It’ll take some getting used to the whole last-name-basis you lot like to use. It seems too...unfamiliar.”

A blast of cool air hit your face as your group passed the Great Hall once again, seeming to come to the end of its tour.

“Well, I’d be glad to be a familiar face for you,” Cedric offered. “First name basis and all...(Y/F/N)?”

You let out a giggle at the questioning tilt of his head, before nodding enthusiastically. 

“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “You don’t need to pity me though. If that’s what you’re doing.”

“Not at all,” he responded. “I think we’re on our way to becoming best friends already, actually.”

The cheeky grin on his face was enough to break down the last of your walls, a smile blowing across your face as well. As you two chattered away, a certain blonde haired boy was watching you from across the hall. Still ~salty~ about your abrupt change in attitude during the two of you’s conversation earlier, you’d been on Draco Malfoy’s mind ever since. And when you were sorted into Hufflepuff house, he’d decided that you certainly would fit in amongst those muggle-loving, tree hugging weirdos anyways. But despite that, he still felt a weird thump in his chest when the sorting hat was finally placed on you; as if it would agree with him that you needed to be amongst Slytherins, where you truly belonged. And seeing you laughing alongside Cedric Diggory reminded him of a few hours earlier, when you were laughing with him — or maybe at him, but whatever — and he also decided he didn’t like that. Draco almost found himself marching over to confront you before he remembered that Cedric Diggory was a full three years his senior, and a skilled enough wizard that by the time his father heard the news he’d have probably already spent a few days in the Hogwarts infirmary, hexed to oblivion. While cursing his age and how it’s the sole thing keeping him from giving you a piece of his mind, Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when you suddenly turned and made eye contact with him. Giving him a large wave, the smile on your face suddenly convinced Draco that he’d do anything to see it again, and any earlier rudeness on your part was thrown out the window. Weren’t you angry still? Wasn’t he angry still? Lost in thought, Draco didn’t notice his friend coming up behind him until he felt Blaise’s hand drop heavily on his shoulder. He flinched, immediately turning his back on the Hufflepuffs across the hall. “What are you staring at, man?” Blaise inquired. “Nothing at all,” he said defensively, moving his body even more in order to block his friend’s view. The other boy looked at him in suspicion before shrugging, wrapping an arm around his shoulders before steering him towards the doors. “Flint’s talking about organizing the tryouts for this year,” said Blaise. “We should go check it out.” Nodding his head along to whatever else Blaise was mumbling in his ears, Draco felt the annoying compulsion to turn around once more. Stifling the persistent feeling, he swaggered out of the Great Hall. But, he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes were still on him or on Diggory.

A/N: this chapter is shorter because as I said in a previous post it’s been sitting in my drafts and I just wanted to get it put out. This is also really more of a bridge chapter. My MacBook crashed so I wasn’t able to write more and I got annoyed with my phone bc I feel like it inhibits my creative juices :( I’ll try and get ch 3 out soon! Lmk if I should create a tag list :)

[unaccomplishedwriter]

Confession I’ve had chapter two of the hero you need 70% of the way written for like a week and a half now but I can’t figure out how I want to segway from a certain section of it to the next so it’s been sitting in my drafts untouched 😳

[unaccomplishedwriter]

[unaccomplishedwriter]

Hellooooo, good night. I would like to be part of the tag list for the hero you need, thankk u🥰

Of course darling 🤗

[unaccomplishedwriter]

THE HERO YOU NEED

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Prologue here

Chapter One

Decisively locking herself into her compartment alone, (y/n) sunk down into her seat with a loud plop. Clutching her wand, she rolled the violet amethyst handle between her fingers, a habit she’d adopted ever since her first year at Ilvermorny. She could feel the tears starting to cloud her vision as she stared out the window to her parents standing on the platform. Though she wanted to cry, she refused to let them fall. Her parents wouldn’t care anyway. This was the most determined they’d been to have her do something in her entire life.

To (y/n)‘ s bitter frustration, she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to her friends and beloved professors. Her parents sprung the frightful news merely a few days before she was due for the new school year in America; gave her a few days to get come to terms with starting a new life elsewhere. She’d never resented their job more, even when it had them disappearing for months on end.

And even more frustratingly, they refused to tell her why. But the cold conviction in her father’s eyes and the shadows of something darker and more uncertain — in her mother’s, (y/n) couldn’t find it in herself to disobey them either.

So yet here she sat, on some godforsaken train in some godforsaken robes making sure not to spill these godforsaken tears.

Life couldn’t be worse for her right now.

And as if to mock her, the loud sound of the door handle rattling startled her from her melancholy staring contest with her parents. To top it off, the train had finally jerked into motion, her heart along with it. Shaking from sheer surprise, the blood rushed to her ears, nearly drowning out the arrogant alohamora from the other side of the door.

A tall blonde boy sauntered into the compartment, a sneer on his face.

“How dare you take my compartment, you filthy—,”

The words died in his throat as his eyes landed on the girl in the corner. Her eyes were glassy and her nose was red, giving her (s/c) skin a flushed glow. Normally he’d take the opportunity to mock them further, but his jaw refused to move. Not liking being gawked at, (y/n)’s voice filled the silence.

“You were saying?” She snapped.

Whatever it was, it was going to be rude. A glare made its way to her face as she angrily blinked her tears away. Using this time to take in the boy’s features, (y/n) couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised. He was rather handsome, with fine blonde strands of hair falling into his face. He had clear grey eyes that reminded her of her overcast skies, which she rather liked. The green and silver Slytherin crest was proudly displayed on his chest, and her preconceived notions about Hogwarts’ houses set in just a bit more.

“I—I—Um, are you new?” He stuttered dumbly. The stupid look on his face was enough to wash some of her irritation away, and she relaxed her shoulders a bit. Furrowing her brows, she stared at the door until the boy got the hint and closed it behind him. It wasn’t until he was sat across from her and their eyes were locked again before she bothered to answer his question.

“I’m not a little first year, if that’s what you’re asking. But... yes, I am new. I’m a fourth year.”

He nodded his head, continuing to stare at her. She started to feel a bit put off before he opened his mouth again.

“Not from here, either. You an American? What’s your name?”

“I am American. I’m (F/n) Hightower.”

His eyes bugged out of his head, and (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. He was rather entertaining...and cute, if she’d had to admit.

“Hightower as in one of the oldest American Wizarding families? Your family practically helped pioneer the entire setup of the American Wizarding World,”

He exclaimed. A throb of annoyance fell upon her, but (y/n) brushed it off. Her family name meant she had a fuckton of expectations placed on her shoulders, and she didn’t particularly want them to carry over to her new life at Hogwarts.

“And your name?” She asked. He sat back proudly, a smug smile gracing his face. A smirk soon mirrored it on (y/n)‘s; she’d always liked seeing self-assurance on others.

It made her wish she had some for herself.

“I’m a Malfoy, of course. Draco Malfoy,” he reached out with his hand, before freezing and pulling it back quickly. The embarrassed laugh that followed made (y/n) laugh as well. She’d heard of the Malfoys, and so far this Draco boy aligned with most of what she’d learned. Perhaps a bit more charm, though.

They talked animatedly about their families for a while, finding familiarity in the pressure of a high-profile background.

“So which house do you recommend?”

Perhaps it was a stupid question, but she enjoyed the way his eyes lit up following it regardless.

“Slytherin, obviously! We’re the best at everything and have the most house cups under our belt,” he bragged. “The other houses are full of losers, but if there were a house I’d definitely stay away from it would be Gryffindor. They’re a bunch of self-righteous freaks,” Draco huffed, crossing his arms. His childish comment and posture eliciting an eye roll.

“Forget I asked,” she joked. (Y/n) explained a bit of how Ilvermorny’s sorting process went about, hers in particular. The subject seemed very interesting to the blonde haired boy and she found herself gradually reddening from the attention.

But she’s (Y/n) freaking Hightower, and she does not get flustered by boys.

“I knew the moment I saw you that you were different,” he boasted. “I’d have remembered seeing a girl like you around before—,”

“A girl like me?” She cut in, making him falter. As if just realizing what he’d said, Draco’s face turned red, and he recoiled back into his seat.

“I meant— you— you’re from a good family, is all.” He stammered. With a raised brow, (y/n) leaned forward, invading some of his space.

“Family isn’t everything you know. You’re only what you make of yourself... not to mention, outside of the Wizarding World, we’re not much. The muggles have accomplished loads without magic, I’d say that’s something to applaud on its own.”

He gaped at her for a moment, jaw hanging. Feeling self-conscious, she drew back a bit. She suddenly remembered the clear division between muggles and wizards here in Europe, and felt stupid for bringing it up.

“Who cares about muggles? They’re even worse than the mudbloods — at least they can do magic, no matter how poorly,” he sniggered, a glimpse of the initial nastiness she saw when he’d first entered her compartment.

A scowl now adorning her face, (y/n) stood up abruptly.

“I grew up alongside muggles, you know. Their technology can make life very convenient,” she hissed. Muggles were a sore subject for (y/n) amongst her magical friends; though not as bad as Europe, the American Wizarding world still practiced some degree of separation from muggles, which fostered some less-than-kind mentalities amongst some of her peers back in America. She assumed it would be worse here, but coming face to face with it from a boy who’s company she otherwise enjoyed was decidedly unpleasant.

Draco stared up at her, taken aback. “Well, they—they just don’t belong with us,” he exclaimed, standing up as well.

Her face officially hot, (y/n) marched past him and threw open the doors of the compartment.

“If that’s what you think,” she hissed, “you can leave.”

For what seemed like the thousandth time since they met, Draco once again gaped at her. Face twisting, he strode past her.

“Didn’t take a Hightower for a blood traitor,” he spat, slamming the door behind him.

Furious, (y/n) slammed herself back into her seat before promptly shutting the blinds in her window, darkness encasing her cabinet.

Welcome to Hogwarts, she moaned.

*

As she gazed glumly at the gaggle of first-years in front of her, (y/n) couldn’t help but curse her parents to the high heavens for the millionth time that day. Going through the bated torture of just one house sorting three years ago was quite enough, thank you. She never thought she’d be here again, experiencing this again. Hogwarts and Ilvermorny unfortunately did not have some sort of house equivalency, thus her recent move meant she was forced to be sorted once again like some sort of anxiety-ridden eleven year old.

Well, she wasn’t. She was an anxiety-ridden fourth year, and for Merlin’s sake, this stupid hat was by far the most tedious being she’d ever bore witness to existing!

It spent a good twenty minutes on some students, and heavens knows how long this event would actually last. She didn’t even want to be here anyway.

But as another child was sorted, the thunderous applause of Ravenclaw house deafened her ears yet again and she couldn’t resist the small smile that crept along her face. At the very least, Ilvermorny and Hogwarts had one thing in common: comraderie. She’d heard gossip about how intense the house rivalry of Hogwarts was, but for now, it was nice to see a bit of community shown in order to drown out her lonely anxieties.

It was another thirty minutes before her name was called, and the Great Hall descending into a suffocating silence. A good two heads taller than the first-years, she stood out like a sore thumb. But if (y/n) was to be deemed as anything, she wanted it to be confident, so she sauntered up to the platform without delay. Her face was the picture of calm, but she couldn’t resist tightening her grip on her wand as she felt the inumerable amount of eyes on her. She’d thought about which house she’d prefer to get sorted into beforehand, but had doubts.

(Y/n) was 100% sure her personality aligned best with Slytherin, but the house’s propensity for dark magic and prejudice didn’t bode well with the kind of wizard she wished to be. Gryffindor seemed the next best choice, but the tact and levelheadedness of Ravenclaw house was something she’d surely advantage from.

She considered all of these options, but when the hat descended on her head, there was only one house actually in her mind.

“Oh-ho-ho! A Pukwudgie! A special one at that! Looks like we have future Wizarding royalty in our presence. Though, you lot’s preferred way of sorting is quite boring though, innit? Well, I’d say at least. Of course, a Pukwudgie there makes for anything you’d like here, special or not. You’d do particularly well in Slytherin, it seems... but it looks like you’ve made up your mind? Careful love, it isn’t too good to believe everything you hear. You’d be proud to be in any of our houses, I’d reckon! But, still? Are you sure? Well, okay —

Hufflepuff for the yankee!”

Maybe it was because she was clearly not a first-year and therefore more interesting, but (y/n) could have sworn Hufflepuff’s cheers were a bit louder than for those before her. Either way, she couldn’t help the wide smile that bloomed on her face as she rose from her seat. As she stood, her gaze landed squarely on two piercing grey eyes staring directly at her. Across from her was the Slytherin house, the house that she’d might have been part of in another life. Time seemed to have stood still in this split second, and she felt something stir in her chest. A small twang of regret? Or, guilt even?

But that was impossible, what would she be guilty of? And as her gaze landed on the lips underneath those eyes, which were now twisted into a familiar sneer, (y/n) promptly turned away and pranced over to her new home away from home.

Even if Slytherin had that handsome, rude boy, she was sure Hufflepuff had better in store for her.

Author’s Note: Leave a comment or an ask in order to be added to the tag list ☺️

[unaccomplishedwriter]

THE HERO YOU NEED

Draco Malfoy x Reader

(Y/n) was a proud and true Pukwudgie. Ilvermorny was her home away from home; but when her parents’ secretive, suspicious work takes her family jetsetting across the globe to gloomy England, she now has to find her place amongst snakes, birds and badgers. Unsettled by the clear separatism put in place in Hogwarts, it takes everything she can to juggle her studies and social circles. When a well-meaning, but ill-advised professor institutes interhouse pairs for the duration of the school year, (Y/n) finds herself partnered with the one person her friends told her to stay away from, the Malfoy heir himself. But when she finds herself enjoying his company more than she’d like to admit, she begins to question how her life became so black and white and fifty other shades of people’s opinions other than her own. Behind its magical curriculum, the halls of Hogwarts boasts far more complications and dangers than she’d ever thought to have to experience in her teenage years...along with shadows of her parents that she couldn’t even begin to understand.

Prologue

Chapter One here

When the fluid motions of the four statues blanketed the entrance hall in silence, the sheer force of the blood rushing to her head was nearly enough to make her pass out. This was it. It was her time. The second coming of Seraphina Picquery was underway. Her convictions were reinforced when the very last Violetta Beauvais wand chose her as its new owner. Of course, she planned on carving her own path. That’s why she chose Pukwudgie house, home of healers. She wished to completely put an end to the Dark Era and heal and reunite the Wizarding Community like never before. Pukwudgie suited her values very well, of course! Plus, [a Beauvais wand takes to dark magic like a vampire to blood, after all]. Better to be safe than sorry.

Like her idol, (Y/n) wished to usher in a new era of the Wizarding World with her time at Ilvermorny as her origin and starting point. Her friends, teachers, and family expected it. But suddenly, her parents changed their tune and wished to spirit her away to Hogwarts! Hogwarts! Whispers of the infamous school had reached all the way to North America, and not in a good way. With tensions on the rise in the Wizarding World of Europe, rumors of dark magic and wars...(Y/n) starts to realize that perhaps there was a deeper reason behind why her wand chose her after all.

Author’s Note: I’m back! Will I be consistent? Probably not! My hyper focused interests wax and wane often but I think I’m in a pretty stiff HP fixation rn. But a girl can try. Saviour is still currently on hiatus; I need to do a rewatch of CAOS before I revisit the series.

[unaccomplishedwriter]

Ive been receiving more likes on Saviour lately and it’s making me feel hella guilty again. Should I continue the series? Life happened and I just fell off.

[unaccomplishedwriter]

[unaccomplishedwriter]

Trying to find the perfect name for a character, but you only have a vague idea of what you want, like “he feels like a 2-syllable kind of guy” or “It need a hard consonant at the end.”