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delulupots · 9 days ago

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i HAVE A BAD FEELING THIS WILL BREAK ME. WISH ME LUCK

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ The Wrong Side of The Room — Serendipity Is A Bitter Pill To Swallow

✶⋆.˚ You should have stayed far away from the doe-eyed girl hiding in the corner of the room, but curiosity got the best of you, and as always, curiosity kills the kat.

୨୧ Pairing: Gryffindor Pureblood!Manon x Beauxbaton Pureblood Fem!Reader ୨୧ Word Count + Genre: 8.5k, Angst, Maybe a little fluff, Harry Potter/Hogwarts AU, Forbidden Romance, Letters, So much yearning ୨୧ A/N: Okay so this is kinda mid. Wrote 90% of it while sleep deprived and then panicked so hard when I thought google docs didn’t save 💀 ୨୧ ࣪Content Warnings: This is not a real portrayal of any of the individuals mentioned in this fic. All events are completely fictional and are only intended for entertainment purposes. Bullying/Name calling, Classism/Blood Supremacy, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol, Toxic Family, Misogyny/Sexism, Reader highkey leading Manon on, Ghosting, The reader from Megan’s fic is mentioned

⋆ 𝜗ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Next in the Queue ⋆ 𝜗ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⟡ The Bachelorette: 𝐽𝑒 𝑁𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑄𝑢𝑜𝑖 - 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐴 | 𝑀𝑦 𝑇𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑅𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑡 - 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡 | 𝐻𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡 ⟡ The Doe: 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 - 𝑅𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑒 𝑅𝑎𝑝𝑝 | 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑂𝑓 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠 – 𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒 𝑆𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑛 | 𝑅𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐿𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑀𝑒 — 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡

You live to please the crowd of beating eyes. The rules of the game are simple.

You only want what your parents want. You are what your parents mold you to be.

Remember that blood is thicker than water, always.

Live up to the pureblood name.

Never step out of line.

Yet you couldn’t help but find yourself gravitating to Manon, standing in the corner of the ballroom, looking so effortlessly out of place.

She’s diluted.

A blood traitor, and that’s not tolerable here.

You know you should stay away.

Yet your eyes still linger. Even when you turn around and walk the other way, sway your body next to boys your age, listen to them beg for a conversation you’ll forget in a day. You can’t shake the pull you feel towards the girl standing at the edge of the social scene, and you’re sure she feels it too.

You feel a stare across the room, not from the girl you’re eyeing, one of the hosts instead. Another sharp eyed girl trying to play the social scene like a fiddle, probably doing better than you are. You feel how she follows the underlying tension in the room. Especially the one between you and the doe eyed girl trying to hide away in the corner. Usually, you don’t enjoy being called out on such actions, but this time, you didn’t mind her knowing. Something in your body yearned for her to notice. Maybe that’s why when she called your name, you froze, allowing her to catch up to you instead of blurring into the bustling crowd all waiting to get a look at the new bachelorette in town. You, and your actions. All too intentional to be a coincidence. Yet you still pretend, standing still, hoping no one notices the way your shoulders seem to fall, letting go of the tension locked within, or the way a smile makes its way up your face too quickly for it to be mistaken as one you learned to plaster on, as the girl approaches you. It all came naturally. Too naturally. You already knew you were in too deep for a girl you’ve never met before. A girl you were never even supposed to meet. One that should have just been another speck of dust, ruining the glitz and glamor of the ball in a room of dazzling diamonds all desperate for your attention.

“Y/n!” the girl waves, “welcome back from Beauxbatons! How have you been?”

“Good,” the words flow exactly the way you want it too. Not too harsh or too soft, light enough for you to mean it, serious enough it wouldn’t be questioned. Just like how you rehearsed it in the mirror this morning. Just like how you rehearse it everyday, spending your first few waking hours boring holes into the reflective pane of glass, trying to sell a lie to yourself. You stare back at the host's daughter. Head held high like she was meant for this life, back so straight it almost seemed natural. You knew it wasn’t. She held herself just like how you did. Held herself like she knew her life was all carefully balanced on well placed lies and intimidating confidence pieced together by brute force. Always listening to what others had to say, the good and the bad, playing damage control in every aspect of life. You know she's likely heard of the rumors circulating all year about her having a thing with one of the half breeds at Hogwarts too. A Skiendial you remember.

You speak, forgetting your better judgement as a sly smile is whisked onto your lips and a knowing glare is reflected in your eye, “thank you for hosting. It’s a lovely party.” The space between your words echo for a second. A taunt nags at you, and you can’t help but bite the hook. “Rumor is you’re off the market now, so I suppose this party isn’t made for you to find a suitable lover?” relenting to the bad habit you’ve been taught since you were little, unable to resist taking a jab at the girl. It was merely what you were taught to do, even though everything screams at you not to.

A glimmer sparkles in her eyes, her smile remains just as wide as before, but now she speaks with a dangerous tone in her voice, “you’re funny. Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.”

You naturally follow. Your brain is screaming at you to deny the not so optional offer. Instead, you simply relent, following begrudgingly though your heart betrays you. Jumping in your chest, beating a little too fast to be disliking the interaction. The smile from before remains plastered on, your heart begging for her to bring you to a particular someone in the crowd you’ve been eyeing all night. She was the host after all, practically the only mode of introduction available in a ball as prestigious as this. You can’t help but be impressed. Even a dating scandal didn’t seem to be able to scare the crowd off. The two of you float through the external garden, stepping inside, the orchestra playing a recognizable tune as the two of you finally enter the shade. At last, the two of you fall in a corner of the extravagant ballroom, right in front of the girl you had been pretending to avoid all afternoon. Something about her screamed at you, as if your brain knew that once the two of you started talking, you wouldn’t be able to pull away. You were beginning to regret making the subtle comment on the hosts relationship status now, mentally scolding yourself for the idiotic display. You gulp, a wave of awkwardness washing over the small corner of the room as the crowd continues to buzz in excitement over lavish gifts and manicured smiles.

“Manon, this is y/n. Y/n, Manon,” the girl smirks with a knowing wink before stepping backwards and bleeding back into the bustling crowd, not even bothering to stay any longer. Manon looks at you and the host in shock, eyes furrowing in confusion at the random introduction. Her eyes narrow, almost in a questioning way, like she was asking what you were here for.

Your brain begs you to come up with an excuse to leave, instead, every part of you simply decides to gang up on the poor organ. Your mouth betrays you, a compliment flowing out instead of a quick goodbye, “hey… You seem pretty cool…?” you remark, silently scolding yourself for the millionth time this hour after acting so foolishly once Manon came into view. All of your prestige and well rehearsed sentence starters unravel at the corners with a few words from the traitor, every little fact about you you’ve buried and attempted to forget resurfacing without a second doubt. An act sure to get on your parents' nerves as every little social maneuver you’ve forced into habit since your youth, softened for the doe eyed girl. You were certain, this was going to be a long night.

“Uh huh, whatever you say,” Manon responds unimpressed, clearly still unaware of your interest in her. You couldn’t blame her, only a few can see past the embezzled perfection on each and every individual in the room. Especially difficult for someone as inexperienced in the act as her. The words sounded all so condescending in your head, it shouldn’t come out like that. You didn’t want it to come out like that. Not to her.

Instead of learning your lesson, your mouth continues to move faster than your brain, blowing your cover once again. The messy words tiptoeing into her space, unwelcomed, for sure, “I mean I just… I might've noticed you and well… I-”

“Okay yea—” Manon scoffs under her breath, looking away from your face. “—noticed you too with all the boys flocking over you. Not necessarily subtle,” she interrupts, crossing her arms in front of her body like she was attempting to create a barrier between the two of you, all while failing miserably. You’re sure if she was slightly unimpressed before, she was completely and utterly unimpressed by your actions now, but the small quirk in her lips you spot out of the corner of your eye tells you otherwise. A spark of hope catching flame in your chest. Your brain, as the only voice of reason left in your body, yearns to crush it within its palms, but instead, the thought only further convinces you to continue.

A light flush rises onto your cheeks, an action your parents would smack the back of your head and curse at you in annoyance for. This view shouldn’t be meant for the blood traitor, this conversation shouldn’t even be between you and a blood traitor either. Any other person in this ball would be a better recipient, but the act felt so right. Too right. You watch as the corner of her lips remain lifted. A flutter emits from your heart. It weaves through your chest, while a buzz trembles throughout your frame at the sight. Never would you have imagined that the girl would be so receptive to such a conversation. You beamed, even though your brain was still grasping at desperate attempts to conceal your yearning. Maybe, you hoped, just maybe, you caught her eye too. The same exact way she caught yours.

Manon. Manon was no fool. A blood traitor, but no fool. She knew she wasn’t welcome here, not at this party, barely at this establishment, definitely not by most people in the room. So why was she being introduced to someone? Sure, she’s friends with the host by relation but that was supposed to be it. Shouldn’t it? Yet, she found conversation flowing so easily with you. Laughing at her dumb jokes that she was sure weren’t gonna land, talking about your hobbies like the two of you stood on equal grounds, nodding along to her stories as if it was the most captivating thing on earth. She’s convinced she’s living in a fever dream, or you’re playing her like a fiddle. She could feel her heart taking flight, its wings fluttering into the tip of her throat, begging to be let out. She hoped, prayed even, that at the end of the ball only one of you would be heartbroken. Prayed that it wouldn’t be her.

“Manon?” you ask the girl leaning against the intricate walls of the ballroom, deep in thought.

“Yea?” she responds, eyes soft, even when snapping to attention at your words, though her expression said otherwise. You couldn’t tell if she was admiring your features against the chandelier lights that suddenly felt too bright for your eyes, or if you had a really stupid expression on, letting out more than you should have. A part of you knew you already were, but that never stopped your poor brain from running into overdrive from worries.

“Want me to show you something?” you ask foolishly, silently reprimanding yourself for every little action you really shouldn’t be making. Still, a smile grazes over your features, too genuine to be faked. You wanted to hate it, you really did, but it felt right. Somehow, everything with her felt right.

You’re sure the hosts wouldn’t mind you bringing Manon on a little excursion. Perhaps this was what the host planned in the first place, she was known as a matchmaker after all. Getting you wrapped up in a sick game of love. A contender in her game of cupid. A game you were never supposed to be wrapped into, but a part of you was happy, grateful even, that she chose you and Manon. All while your brain screamed at yourself to never come to a ball like this again.

Oh, you are going to get in so much trouble.

Manon watches you trot backwards, attempting to not trip over your floor length dress. A stupid grin makes its way onto your face before it’s intentionally toned down. The action makes her heartbeat falter a little, a sliver of sorrow grazing over her features before she too, wipes every ounce of visible emotion away.

You find yourself lifting up the front of your dress as you hastily run up the stairs. Your hands flicking up at Manon, an invitation for her to follow. You watch as her mouth dries and her jaw opens and closes in shock. One of her hands, flying to point at her chest while she mouths back, “me?”

“Yea, you. Who else?” you say as your lips form the words yet no sound leaves your throat. Responding to the baffled girl as if she was inquiring about the most obvious thing in the world.

Manon quickly finds herself letting out a chuckle before she even recognizes the action. Her legs naturally follow behind you. Heels wobbling on the hardwood stairs. “Shit,” Manon mutters as her shoe gets caught on the edge of her gown, throwing off her balance. Feeling her legs fail her nervous frame, her eyes come fluttering shut as she braces for impact. She waits, and waits, and the shooting pain from a tumble never comes.

“You good?” you mutter to the girl concerned. Hands gripping onto her waist as you help her find her balance again. Each second with your hands on her figure burning into your mind, a sensation you wanna bottle up and carry around you forever.

“Yea, sorry… Haven’t worn heels in a while,” Manon mutters, still feeling a little shaken from the absolute nightmare she just avoided. Her head drifted downwards in an attempt to hide the scarlet haze drifting over her cheeks, as beautiful as a sunset with pink rose petals sprinkled throughout. Even more beautiful than that, you couldn’t help but think.

“Be careful. Anyways, follow me,” you continue, a smile rushing onto your face even as Manon's blush faded and her features appeared to harden again. A small giggle rushing out of your lips unconsciously, almost out of habit. Your soul seemed to soar above cloud nine when around her. You know it shouldn’t, but you were already addicted to her presence in your life. You never wanted the feeling to stop.

“What happened to you being all elegant and collected?” Manon asks, unable to stop the chuckle that comes from her throat at your actions, prancing around the empty halls of the estate like a little kid.

You shoot back a grin, “can’t a girl have fun?” For the first time, the action didn’t feel defensive, it merely flowed into conversation, the words passing by without a second thought. It only felt right to say that to her.

Manon laughed at your words. A simple gesture, but it hit you like a train. The feeling settling in your stomach felt foreign, yet entirely welcomed, like your soul had been yearning for the motion longer than you’ve ever anticipated. Suddenly, the skip in your step and the giggles bouncing off the walls stop. A sigh escaping your lips as your eyebrows furrow, your eyes analysing Manon. Gosh, what was she doing to you?

The girl stares back, “what?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, shaking your head at the thought. You’ll forget everything by the morning anyways, you promised yourself, you had to.

Heels clicking against the marble floor of the estate. You practically sprint down the hall as Manon follows. “Where the hell are you taking me?” Manon heaves, asking out of breath.

Your legs stop in front of a hardwood door. The moonlight shined through the stained glass window so softly, like it was scared of disrupting the peace. Instead, the bright sphere chose to reflect rainbows onto the ground where you stood. The view was magical, pieces of red glossing over your shoes, a corner of yellow lighting up your gown, the sparkles on the dress coming to life. “Here,” you say, twisting the handle and pushing open the door with an dumb smile.

Manon gasped as a lush indoor garden came into view. Her jaw running slack at the scene, “are you joking me? This… This is…”

“Spectacular? Amazing?” you joke, the room a familiar hideaway. Its charm was already lost on you from your frequent visits, but with Manon, the sight seemed to return to its former beauty. As stunning as your first visit, perhaps even more. You couldn’t tell if it was because Manon was standing under the huge skylight, basking in the moon's rays, or if she simply reminded you of the garden's beauty again. You tried to reason with yourself that it was the latter.

“Just… Unlike anything I’ve seen before. I mean…” Manon mutters awe-struck, her eyes wandering all over the scene. “You can see the stars from here…” she smiles, head falling backwards to look at the garden's skylight.

Your heart flutters at her action, “knew you’d like it. Pretty girls like you always enjoy stuff like this.”

Manon turns back to look at you with a teasing look, “guess I’m not that special then, am I?”

Your smile twitches, crumpling into a grimace for only a second before returning back to normal. Say it, your heart screams. Say she’s special. Say she’s the only one you’ve done this for. Say it, but you don’t dare to utter those words. Instead, you just sit down on one of the garden benches while gesturing for her to do the same. She does, sitting right beside you. Close, but so far away. Too far away. Two worlds apart.

Manon pretends she doesn’t see the way your figure folds into itself, but the view squeezes at her heart. Her lips twisting into an unflattering shape. “I have a good question,” she says, making a meek attempt at a smile, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to lighten the conversation, “tell me, who's the prettiest person at tonight’s party?”

This time your brain doesn’t stop you. The words falling naturally from your tongue without a second thought, “you.”

“Me?” Manon questions with a playful scoff. “Okay, liar,” she continues, looking back towards the lush garden beds, all cared for to perfection. Such perfection it almost looked… wrong.

“You’re prettier than any veela I’ve met,” you vouch, your words trailing off at the end. For once, you mean the phrase. A compliment you usually throw out absent mindedly to butter up the possible suitors your parents drag through the door every weekend, but for the girl sitting in front of you? You couldn’t help but mean every syllable spoken from your mouth with every single fiber of your soul. Her beauty so breathtaking, you’re sure even a veela would be envious, so exceptional, even Metamorphmagi couldn’t replicate, so remarkable, you’re sure the gods must have gushed as they pieced her together at the corners. It was unmatched by anything or anyone you have ever seen. You will ever see, even.

“You can’t say things like that and get away with it,” Manon giggles with a hand over her mouth, a futile attempt at hiding the blush forming all over her cheek.

A smile naturally rises onto your lips, the apples of your cheek rising up to seemingly cover your eyes, “what if I do mean them?”

“Then stop,” Manon mutters, eyes turning back towards the columns of roses across from the garden bench. Her eyes soften but it doesn’t stop the ache in your heart. It softened like she knew the story's ending and didn’t like it. You just watch the way her jaw slowly inches open, as if pondering her next words, before she continues, “stop it if you know this won’t go anywhere.”

The words strike you, hard. Usually, you never let anyone tell you what to do, but for her you listen, and the flowery words stop, even when you do mean them. You choke them back down your throat, bury them behind the bed of thorns constricting around your heart. All while Manon simply continues staring ahead, almost afraid of what she’d see if she turned her head around to face you. She couldn’t help but hate the way the silence twists in her chest. This was always going to happen, she tries to tell herself, but It doesn’t stop the hurt from radiating everywhere inside of her. The hurt that never seemed to stop.

You sit taller on the bench. Back straightening into an uncomfortable shape, but you don’t bother to change it. The pain was welcomed. It stopped you from thinking about the ache in your heart as an awkward laugh escapes your lips, “Hogwarts right? You go to Hogwarts?”

Manon just nods in response.

“House?” you ask, trying to shift the topic.

“Gryffindor. Beauxbaton?”

“Yea. Tell me about your friends?”

The air stops. Your mouth opens, ready to backtrack until Manon smiles, genuinely. “We call ourselves the Kats. We’re all in Gryffindor too. Sophia’s like the mom, a prefect too. It fits since she’s so responsible. Daniela, you’ve probably heard of her. She starts fights like second nature, it’s hilarious. Lara is a talker, love her voice though. She talks like she’s singing you know? Megan, sweetheart, and so silly… Yearns all the time too—” Manon continues to rant with a small laugh. “—Yoonchae is the youngest. Literal voice of reason for us…” words drifting off as she slowly turns her head to look you in the eye. “Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks, confused.

“Like what?” You respond, your expression almost appearing repulsive at her questioning undertone.

“Like what I’m saying is interesting,” Manon replies like it was the obvious answer.

“Why would you think that!?” you practically bite back before your voice dwindles again, “I mean I just… I haven’t felt free like this in years, I suppose.”

Manon’s smile widens with a quirk, her eyebrows moving up and down like a cartoon character as she replies all smug, “I’m glad you feel free with me then.”

The joke doesn’t hit the way it’s supposed to. It lodges itself right beside your heart, opening something you didn’t have the words to describe. Something ugly. The smile on your face cracks. Your throat clogs up at her words. You don’t dare to respond.

Manon had never once wanted to take her words back as much as she did now. Drag them back into her vocal cords and avoid this whole arrangement, but she couldn’t. So she just waited, taking in the silence as a pit settled in her stomach. It scared her… It scared you too, but neither of you dare to acknowledge it. It’d make everything too real. Breaking the fever dream apart at its seams. Instead, the pair of you simply turn back to face the garden, choosing to have your eyes desperately analyse every little branch and leaf in order to distract yourselves from the painful reality you two were stuck in.

The silence gnawed at you, only deepening the pull you felt towards Manon. Idiotically, you let your hand inch towards her figure. Within seconds, you feel your finger graze against hers, and something snaps inside you. Instinctively, you pull away from the warmth, your hand landing back on your lap like the mere touch burned your skin. One hand over the other, poised, how you were taught. You don’t dare to stray from it again. It’d make things too real, and nothing from tonight was supposed to merge into reality. Everything you did was supposed to be carefully curated, held together without a hint of genuinity, but you still craved it, craved something real from the girl beside you. Even when you ran from every moment that came too close to shattering the dreamscape. Soon, a creak is heard from the wooden door you entered from. The sound sends your head snapping back around to see who entered. A breath of relief washing out from your mouth at the sight, just the host, again. “I had a feeling I’d find the two of you here—” She smirks with a knowing look. “—y/n, duty calls. People are wondering where you are. Asking for a dance.”

You swiftly muster up a smile. “Okay,” the word flows as you stand up and fluff out your gown. Resisting the urge to turn and look at Manon again, scared that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave in one piece.

“Wait-” Manon says, shooting up from her seat. Digging through her dress pocket and pulling out a napkin. “Your address? To stay in touch… You know?” her words are hopeful. The tone almost rips you to shreds.

Your hand freezes as she hands you the napkin. You knew the game. Show up, pour your heart out, leave without a trace once the night ends. It was your only choice, but somehow, something urged you to give it a chance. Just one. So with a flick of your wrist, you etched your address onto the delicate piece of paper. Quickly hand it back, almost scared that if you held it for too long it’d ruin your life. It’d make everything too real. Still, you let her take a piece of you with her.

Head dipped, you walk towards the wooden door. Somehow, the stained glass embedded into the door doesn’t seem as vibrant anymore in your eyes. “Give it a shot,” you hear the host whisper into the air as you cross back into the cold desolate halls. Yet, you pretend you don’t catch the words, instead, choosing to walk down the lantern lit corridor with your head now held high, like the girl you left behind was beneath you. She’s supposed to be, but it never felt like it. Not even once.

Manon pockets the napkin like it was sacred before sprinting after you in her dress. “Wait!” she calls out desperately, but it’s no use. Once she returns to the ballroom, all she sees are bodies on bodies and none seem to be yours. Your figure seemingly vanishing into thin air, swallowed by the sea of figures all waltzing. Manon just stands at the top of the stairs, staring, waiting. She swears she locks eyes with you again. Looking at her with this small smile plastered onto your face, nothing like the grin from before, so small, it was almost invisible. Then, she loses you to the crowd again. She felt the world scream at her, cursing her for losing sight of you. Forcing her to leave the night as a fever dream she thought up in her head. She finds her hands digging through her pocket again, rubbing the napkin between the pads of her fingers just to remind her it’s real. Still, it didn’t feel real enough, not as real as the real deal she once sat shoulder to shoulder moments ago. You left. Not even with a goodbye. Just silence, a few words on a tissue, and then, gone. Vanishing like she was nothing, like the whole conversation was nothing to you. Everything in her throbbed, crying out for you, but it was of no use. You were always meant to be temporary. She should have known. Yet, she found herself looking for you everywhere. In the house plants littered around the glamourous room, in the bubbles emitted from the tower of champagne, the bedazzled gowns twirling in sync on the dance floor.

You were everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

This shouldn’t have happened, that was all that swirled in your head as you waltzed on the marble floor. Staring into the eyes of a foreign man as he grabbed your waist and twirled you in circles. Still, all you could see was Manon’s eyes, the shade of brown that’s been tearing you apart from the inside, crushing all you’ve been told to believe in. All you’ve been allowed to believe in. Your focus shifts as you drown out the sound of the man's words, eyes searching the room instead. That’s when you spot her, still as ethereal as before, standing at the top of the staircase, her eyes also scouring for you in the warm lighting. Then, they lock, and you feel a flutter in your stomach at the action.

“—y/n? Are you listening?” the man asks you.

“Oh—” you mutter, shaking your head. Your body sending a small smile to your lips out of habit, a habit you forgot about when you were with Manon, “sorry, I was thinking about academics… You know?”

He chuckles at your words, but you can’t seem to find anything funny about them. “Academics? A girl like you shouldn’t worry so much about things like that. If you found a husband like me, you’d never have to work a day in your life. Wonderful, isn’t it?” he smirks like it’s the only dream someone like you could have. Like the words are supposed to make your heart flutter and cheeks turn rosy.

“Yea… Amazing,” you reluctantly agree, the words so soft it could be lost in the sounds of the orchestra you absent mindedly danced to. Repeating the waltz steps your mother beat into your mind. You wondered what it would feel like to waltz alongside Manon instead. If her grip would be gentle instead of firm like his. If her eyes would soften and a real smile would be tattooed onto her lips. It took everything in you to grin at the man's words, already missing the doe-eyed girl's touch, even when you’ve barely ever felt it. The thought of being near her again taunted you, just like how you taunted the host just a few hours earlier. It was all a mistake. The words. The smiles. The girl. Everything.

As the music ends, you swiftly excuse yourself, ignoring the man's calls. The way he stomps his feet like a toddler when his favorite toy is taken away by his parents. Your feet move at the speed of light while your breathing constricts. Your lips quivering as unshed tears brimmed your eyes. When did the air inside become so suffocating? You rush out of the estate, heaving as you suck in the cold air. The sensation finally calms your frazzled mind. You sigh, attempting to remember what your bedroom looked like. Bedsheets folded to perfection, every corner dusted until reflective, every ounce of personality sucked away until the room was bare, foreign, cold. So cold.

Within a few seconds, you’ve evaporated back into your bedroom, the action twisting you apart then piecing you back together. Still, the sensation could never compare to the ache in your heart, clawing at your soul, begging to be acknowledged. The air in your room is cold. It freezes your soul, almost dulling the ache in your heart. The room somehow felt so much less welcoming then the cold breeze you were met with outside. It irked. The air sends shivers down your spine, the warmth you once gathered around Manon vanishing into thin air, sucked away by the darkness that creeped in your house. Your room had never once felt like home, not even when you were young. You wanted to curse at the world for always being right. True home lies within a person, not a place, and yours is in Manon, but you couldn’t have her. You could never have her.

You travel through your room, going through the motions of your nightly routine. Everything was empty without her. After knowing warmth, you never wanted to go back to this desolate feeling, but you had to. You couldn’t escape it. Finally, you dropped onto your bed, lying down on the mattress, the fabric so soft it almost felt rough against your skin. Nothing felt right without her anymore.

Sleep eluded you. It had been hours since you first lied down, but exhaustion never came to claim you. In fact, the second it saw you come near it likely sprinted in the exact opposite direction. You couldn’t get Manon out of your mind. The way her eyes wandered the room in search of you, the way she spoke. You couldn’t find a single flaw. She perfectly embodied what every pureblood family looked for in a suitor. Graceful with a sharp tongue, but the lineage alone wasn’t enough if you didn’t act like it. The thought haunted you, it made everything in you ache. Ache so, so horribly. If only your parents didn’t believe in blood supremacy you wanted to tell yourself, but who are you to lie to your own face. Instead, you simply tell yourself to stop trying to believe in someone that will never happen. Something that is frankly impossible. Yet, your mind still returned to her. The sound of her laugh, almost shy but genuine, unlike the loud boisterous laughs that shook the room and dripped with money as it echoed down the halls. A status symbol, hers, a token of appreciation. The way she spoke, like she knew she was out of place, yet still so steady. Demanding respect in a room of people who couldn’t bear to spare her a glance, even to servants who treated her like she was invisible. Like she was nothing. Like she was beneath them. How a part of you wished you could do the same, but she could never be nothing to you. Still, you wished, desperately wished. Everything would be so much easier then. For the both of you. You’re sure her heart is aching too. Hopefully less than yours.

You begin to wrack your brain for explanations, and this muggle superstition you’ve heard whispered under the table at gatherings keeps popping up in your mind. If you can’t sleep, someone must be thinking of you. You once told yourself to never believe any muggle bullshit, but now, because of her? You just might, or just might have to. You’re sure Manon’s thinking of you the same way you’re thinking about her. She has to, you can feel it, and a selfish part of you hopes that she too, feels the way sleep doesn’t creep onto her tired frame.

Manon swears she usually falls dead asleep once she lies down on her bed. Somehow, tonight, it just escapes her. The action became so foreign in the span of one day. Someone must be thinking of me, that’s the first thought that pops into mind. You must be thinking of her, she convinces herself. She knows you probably don’t even spare her a second thought, just another person you give the time of night to every ball, but she can’t help but think she might be different. Special, even. Desperately hoping you’re the reason for her insomnia. For she knows she’d go through millions of sleepless nights if you were the cause.

You were all she ever wanted. The thought made Manon’s heart ache. You were all she ever dreamed of. If only she could live up to those standards every pureblood family abides to. She was close, so close, but so far away. She could never be enough, not for someone like you. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t taint you like that. Still, she rose from her bed and sat down on her desk. Carefully pulling out the piece of tissue with your address listed, so careful it seemed like she was examining an artifact. The last remaining piece of evidence that you were real. That this night was real, at least to her. Next, she pulls out a piece of paper and her quill. Then the words rush out like a tidal wave.

Dear y/n, Tonight was magical with you. Something about you brought me to life, made these parties suddenly seem so beautiful, though they’re far from it. I don’t know if you’ll remember me when you receive this letter. You probably won’t, just another one of the people you meet every ball, aren’t I? Or you might never even receive this letter, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the house elves saw my name and simply burned this. I’ll just keep writing then, in case you receive it one day, and if you do see this. I hope you at least bother to read it, but who am I to speak? You probably won’t either. I think you’re one of the best things that have happened to me, don’t tell my friends. I’m never one to go to balls and let a random pureblood drag me away, but I just couldn’t help but do that with you. It felt right, like giggling with you down the halls, letting you catch me at my waist was exactly where I was meant to be my whole life. The puzzle pieces that eluded me just fell into place when I was with you. You seemed to know exactly what to say when you’re with me. Asking the right questions, giving the right answers. Messy, sure, but real, genuine, honest. I like that about people. About you. I think I felt a spark when you grazed my hand. A part of me wished you didn’t pull back, wished you held my hand and let it happen, for just the night. I’m not asking for anything more, just confirmation that I’m not the only one still holding on. Still thinking about it. I hope you remember this night the way I do, because it was real to me. Please let it be real to you too. Be free with me, y/n. Be free for me. I think I might love you… Love, Warm wishes, Manon

Manon folded the paper up without a second thought, slid it into an envelope and sealed it up. Again with her quill, she noted your address like it was sacred to her, like she was blessed with forbidden knowledge. Then, she turned to her owl, handing the letter to her feathered friend who merely grabbed it with its claws and took flight into the starry sky.

She hates how she woke up every other hour that night to see if you responded.

She hates herself more for thinking you’d respond in the first place.

You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but by the time you woke up, your house elf had been knocking on the door for at least a few minutes now.

“Missy,” you smile, giving the creature permission to come in.

“Morning mistress,” the elf grins, closing the door behind her as she enters. “I have something for you,” she murmurs quietly, like she was guilty of a crime.

“What’s the matter?” you say, tilting your head in confusion, before your breath hitches in shock at the sight of a letter, “oh-”

“F-from a blood traitor. We’re supposed to burn this, but Missy saw it was addressed for you, and snuck it out. If Mistress allows, Missy can continue doing this, or burn it like the rest instead?” the elf squeaks, looking at you with her gaze lowered, like she was ashamed of her actions.

You couldn’t contain the smile that rose on your face, it came naturally with the mention of the girl from last night, even though your soul ached at the thought of her. “Thank you Missy, please continue,” you say, dipping your head in approval. You grab the letter from the house elf as she jumps up and down in joy, “Mistress approves of Missy, Mistress approves!”

You can’t help but chuckle at the sight. “Indeed. You’re excused,” you agreed with a soft nod as Missy leaves the room happily.

The letter. The name. The events of last night rushes back into your mind, hitting you like a missile, the ache returning two fold. None of this felt fair anymore. With shaky hands, you tear open the envelope, messy, tired, nothing like how you’re supposed to appear, but you couldn’t help your eyes from running over the rushed handwriting as you unfolded the piece of paper. Within seconds, it was refolded and shoved back into the envelope. It was too raw. The wound was too fresh. Everything in you screamed. Screamed that it could never be. The two of you could never be a thing like that. So instead of formulating a response, you just open a drawer and throw the letter in, telling yourself you’ll respond later, when you return home from the date your parents organized. You couldn’t fall in love, not with her. Anyone but her, but how does one shake the joy they feel from finally being understood for the first time. Understood by someone they never wanted to leave, but had to.

Manon was just a good time you reminded yourself, a silly mistake you made. You knew it wasn’t true, but what else was there to do? The lies started to sound a lot more like the truth the more you repeated it, like if you kept telling yourself it never happened, the memory would erase itself from both of your minds. The lies almost started sounding almost as real as her, but they could never be as real as her. You knew that. Still, the tears couldn’t fall, you couldn’t let them, but your eyes burned, caught flame, turned to ash, then were reborn again. You’ll forget, you tell yourself. You tell yourself again as you put on a sundress and get picked up at the door by another unfamiliar man. You tell yourself again as you laugh at his jokes, but the smile never reaches your eyes. You tell yourself again as his hands find yours, and you swear you almost vomit on the spot. Screaming for him to stop tainting the skin Manon grazed previously, even if it was only for a split second. The sound, silently rippling out of your throat. You tell yourself again as he orders you a simple salad and spends the whole brunch talking about himself while you just listen, the words fading through you. Manon would never do that, but he wasn’t Manon. No one could be the same as Manon. No one else could send rays of joy through your soul by just existing the way Manon could. You couldn’t replace her, but you wished. Desperately, you wished you could.

Manon felt so incredibly stupid as she walked up the stairs to Megan’s girlfriend's estate again. She promised herself, her friends, her parents, she’d swear off balls like this, but to see you again, Manon would do anything. She presses her lips together as people point at her and laugh. She closes her eyes and pretends she doesn’t see the way people part for her, not out of respect, but because everyone is so disgusted they don’t even want to come near. She’d take any humiliation if it meant she’d see you again, but she never did. She just stands by the stairs, and waits, and waits, and keeps waiting. Choosing to silently die in the corner of the room then admit to herself that you’ve forgotten about her. Slowly suffocating from social suicide as she taps people on the back, cower as they turn, and look at her in disgust as she checks for any sliver of you in their eyes, even for a moment. So many times, she swears she spots your figure again, hears your chuckle, feels the vibrations from your heels as you come running down the hall. She finds you everywhere now. The click your shoes make with the marble floors at any occasion, the rainbows that shine on the floor when rays of light hit the crystals dangling on the lavish chandeliers, the sight of people dancing, whether it’s in the rain or in a ballroom. You never seem to want to leave her alone.

Manon would take every word, every letter, every glance back if it meant you’d stay, because after you, nothing was ever the same.

After every party, every day, Manon stepped back into her room, sat down at her desk and wrote you another letter. Poured her heart out for someone who was too scared to listen to the beautiful melody it created. She swears she’s memorized your address now. Yet she still pulls out that napkin every time she signs the address, just so she could feel close to you again. So she knows you’re still real, or was real at some point in time.

Dear y/n, I went to another ball today. You weren’t there, I should have expected that but can’t a girl hope? You’re probably off on dates and forgetting about me. I’m sorry if all these letters are bothering you now, but what else am I supposed to do? Let me have this at least please. I stood by the stairs the whole time. These parties aren’t the same without you. I also tripped on the stairs again. This time, you weren’t there to catch me. Everyone just laughed at me until the host helped me up and told everyone to mind their business. But she’s not you, my heart didn’t tingle as she held my arm and told me to take care. I miss you. I miss your touch, your laugh, your eyes, your words, your everything. If I tripped again would you come back to catch me? Tell me you would. Lie to me even. Come back to me please, Manon B.

Dear y/n, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I am hopelessly in love with you, and I can’t deny that. I love you more than you know. I went to another ball, I sat at the garden bench we sat at a few weeks ago. It was cold, it froze me to my core, but I couldn’t bear to leave. It’s the only thing I have left of you. Other than the napkin of course. It’s holding on by a thread though. I swear it’s disintegrating in my hands every time I pick it up. Y/n, I can’t keep begging the hosts to keep inviting me to their balls. It’s pathetic. I don’t belong there, and I can’t keep doing this to them. They have their own reputation to salvage, and I have mine, even though I’d ruin it any day for you. They say your youth should be full of experimentation. Falling in and out of love again and again. I just can’t seem to fall out of love with you. I hate how I still think about you every day. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I hate it so much, I hate how nothing feels right without you anymore. So please, respond. Show me it’s all been worth it. Show me I haven’t wasted all my time on you. Tell me, you think about me too. Answer me please, Manon Bannerman

Dear y/n, Fuck you. How dare you leave me here like none of this ever happened? How is any of this fair to me? How could you leave me your address, give me hope, and then leave me dangling. Please. Please tell me you’ve read at least one of these. Please just write back. Even if it’s a rejection. Get your parents to send me a howler even. Anything. Anything would suffice. I can’t do this forever. I can’t do this anymore. Hell, you might even have a boyfriend now. How would I know? Please. Just please, give me a sign. Any sign. I beg you. I beg of you, and you know I hate to beg, so don’t make me do this again. Please, don’t. The school year is starting soon. Seventh year. I haven’t told any of my friends about you. The host, one of my friends' girlfriends, knows though. She looks at me with this look in her eyes. This look that says she doesn’t understand why you haven’t come back for me. A look that screams I’m sorry. A look that tells me if she knew you’d run away like a coward she wouldn’t have introduced us. I think the guilt is eating her alive too. Please, for the sake of all of us, tell me I’m not making all of this up. Just come back, once. Even if it’s to break my heart. Come back and give me some closure. Give all of us some closure. I still think of you, I hope you’ve been well, I still love you, Still waiting on you, Manon Bannerman Please tell me you remember who I am.

You’re going to break. You can feel it. You feel the way she’s breaking too and you don’t even need to open up the envelopes anymore. You keep telling yourself if you wait it out, she’ll stop loving you and you’ll stop loving her. It’s not true, you know it too, but the pain becomes routine. Missy hands you the envelope, you slide it under your pillow and fall asleep like you’re close to her again. Like she’s holding you in her arms, and she forgives you for all the torture you’ve put her through. Then, in the morning you pinch the corner of the envelope as if holding it will burn you, and slide it out from underneath your pillow. Then, you throw it in your drawer to collect dust, into a drawer that’s overflowing with letters now. The only thing left messy in your room. The only thing in the room that represents you in any way shape or form. Messy, like everything after Manon. Yet, you know when it fills up, you’ll clear another drawer just to make space. Refusing to get rid of a single letter, but not daring to open a single one up either. It would only hurt too much. Everything would just hurt too much.

Every night, as you sleep with the letter under your pillow, you can almost hear her voice pleading for a chance again. The mere thought, sending waves of hurt pulsing through you, but even the pain felt right. You’d rather be in pain from thinking about her then forget. Grasping at straws in your memory bank as you try and recall what it felt like to be beside her again. By the morning, all that the letter reminds you of is the way you never should have written your address for her. All in attempts to convince yourself that if you never wrote it, the pain couldn’t ache like this. That she wouldn’t remember you and you’d forget her too. How if that's the case, she wouldn’t have to burn herself alive every night to light the candle of joy in your heart that dances upon receiving the inky paper. At least that's what you tell yourself. Just more lies. Feeding yourself lies, on lies, on lies. Eating them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

You’ll stop loving her, you promise yourself, and you’ll find a way to make her stop loving you too.

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delulupots · 26 days ago

Text

reblogging so i can read in my free time😁

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ Between The Lines — Serendipity in Disguise

✶⋆.˚ Survival was simple, stay in your lane and make your parents proud. Too bad your potions professor began to play match maker and somehow, your supposed worst nemesis slithers her way into her heart. She’s a monster, yet you can’t help but want to stay.

⊹ ࣪Pairing: Halfblood Gryffindor Werewolf!Megan Skiendiel x Pureblood Slytherin Prefect Fem!Reader ⊹ ࣪Word Count + Genre: 26.3k, Fluff (ig?) with a little bit of Angst, Major Slowburn, Hogwarts AU, The Kats are like the Marauders??, Forbidden Romance, Tutor x Tutee, Supposed Enemies (but not really) to Lovers ⊹ ࣪A/N: It’s finally out gang 😀 only took me like 50 years. The writings crap but I hope you guys enjoy it 😔 ⊹ ࣪Content Warnings: This is not a real portrayal of any of the individuals mentioned in this fic. All events are completely fictional and are only intended for entertainment purposes. Reader and her friends are mean, Fight scenes (nothing too graphic, mostly verbal), Bullying/Name calling, Swearing, Kissing, Alcohol, Mentions of Death, Toxic Family, Allusions to Torture, Mention of Blood, Mildly suggestive in like 1 scene

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Next in the Queue ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ⋆ The Start of It All: 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑌𝑜𝑢 - 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑒 𝐴𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑠 ⋆ Working Relations: 𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 - 𝐿𝑎𝑢𝑓𝑒𝑦 ⋆ This Isn't Real: 𝑇𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 - 𝑆𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 ⋆ Just For You: 𝑇𝑜𝑘𝑦𝑜 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 - 𝑅𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑆𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑎𝑚𝑎 ⋆ Party For None: 𝐿𝑒𝑡’𝑠 𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 - 𝐹𝐼𝑁𝑁𝐸𝐴𝑆 ⋆ Our Spot: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟 - 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑡 ⋆ Always Here: 𝐼𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝐸𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 - 𝐽𝑃 𝑆𝑎𝑥𝑒 ⋆ Under the Stars: 𝐸𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝐷𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝐿𝑖𝑒 - 𝑆𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑎 𝐿𝑎𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑎

Never put Cats and Snakes together in one basket.

That’s what your mom told you.

It was common knowledge at Hogwarts that there were 2 groups of people you never wanted to be put together in the same room. No one at school wanted to play into the stereotypes of all Gryffindors and Slytherins being known foes, but it seemed that even the concept of them tolerating each other was impossible. You surely agreed. Ever since your first step on campus the rivalry seemed to brew. Stupid levitating paper cranes flown to you during class time only to be littered with taunts, bumping into each other in the hallways with a little too much force and intention to be accidental, hurtful words yelled across the courtyard trying to hit every known weakness the other had. It was merely the known dynamic. To be specific, the dynamic between your group and the intolerable Kats, whose presence you were taught to utterly despise. They were an eyesore in the already lackluster of a school Hogwarts is, and luckily for you, it was also easy to come up with insults round the clock when the other side included blood traitors and mudbloods. Though within the group of insufferable Gryffindors one was always the easiest to pick on for your friends. Megan. Kind, sweet, gentle Megan who seemed to not have a single bad bone in her body, or a single brave one to land her in the oh so mighty house of Gryffindor in the first place. Even though the rivalry was obvious, you still couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt every time your group taunted her for her bland presence and the sorting hat's mistake. But at the end of the day, it is true, isn’t it? You can’t be going soft for the Gryffindor girl.

A voice interrupts your train of thought, “Y/n, the loser is staring at you again,” Ningning said with a roll of her eyes glazing at the Gryffindor table where Megan sat with the rest of the Kats. Her annoyance was visible in the way she flicked her hand as if the girl in question was a waste of space.

The grand hall seemed to narrow as you looked up and locked eyes with the redhead sitting a table down. The girl immediately perked up at the attention, as if trying to impress you. Your lips pressing together into a thin line before your head turns back to Ningning, “oh leave it be, that loser probably has nothing better to do.” The group erupts in laughter as Soobin throws his head back at the statement, laughter echoing through the hall while his knee banged on the belly of the wooden table. The act sends a shock wave down to the other end of the structure, the utensils there bouncing off their respective plates and onto the floor. The students seated at the end did not dare to look up at your group, instead choosing to awkwardly pick up their utensils and continue on with their meal.

Wonyoung sneers at the action, “Soobin, what happened to grace, hm?” disappointment radiating from the tense girl, “have some class for once or you’ll be just as bad as those Gryffindor freaks.”

Soobin mutters a swift apology at Wonyoung’s words before continuing his meal, attempting to avoid another confrontation.

Hyunjin in an attempt to switch the topic, quickly adds, “you know, it almost looks like that fool has a crush on you.”

A scoff naturally erupts from your mouth before you could even comprehend it, “oh please, as if I’d want her.” Your heart twists a little at your rehearsed words. It was true you didn’t even like her back, so why did those words taste bitter in your mouth once they left?

“Blood traitors, am I right?” Sakura remarks as if it’s the obvious answer, “they’re ridiculous.”

Wonyoung rolls her eyes once again, signaling her disapproval, a common scene within the group. “No one told you to go date that blood traitor in the first place, you didn’t listen and look where you are now—” Her eyes lingered over the Japanese girl in judgement. “—all of them are cut from the same cloth, utter disgrace to the wizarding race.”

The group falls into an uncomfortable silence before you speak, aiming to ease the tension, “we should head back to the common room, I want to cram in some potions before my night patrols."

The rest of the group nods in agreement as they stand, moving towards the wooden doors in unison like a wave, shoes clicking on the limestone below your feet. You sneak a glance back to the Gryffindor table against your better judgement, disguising the action as an over the shoulder glance. A desperate attempt to hide the real reason for your interest in the table, specifically a certain redhead sitting at the table.

Megan knew falling in love with a Slytherin was a horrible idea, especially when the girl she fell for strived to make hers a living hell. But when has reason ever stopped her from trying?

Megan always looked forward to meal times and the classes she shared with y/n, as stupid as she knows it is, finding the girl in the crowded campus always seemed to brighten her mood. That leads her to now, tuning out her friend's comments on the Slytherins who keep ganging up on them, instead focusing on finding a certain girl sitting at a table with a big green and silver banner hanging above. Shit she thinks to herself as she catches your gaze from across the great hall. This was not what she was prepared for, instinctively she sat up straighter in her seat, as though it’d help her leave a better impression. She knew she probably seemed desperate for any sort of attention, but you wouldn’t be so cruel to bring it up to your friends would you? Your gaze quickly moves away from her with a seemingly annoyed expression, a frown latches onto Megan's lips, the corners of her mouth twisting downwards while she still makes futile attempts to conceal her disappointment.

“Stop staring,” Sophia said, giving Megan a comforting pat on the shoulder, “she already hates you enough. Don’t get all of us in more trouble by ogling her 24/7."

“Oh please! They’re all trouble”, Daniela emphasizes. “There’s not a good bone in any of them, and certainly not y/n. She’s locked in with that bitch Wonyoung or whatever her name is—” Hands gesturing wildly like she was acting out a play. “—I heard lil wonnie’s even mean to the purebloods kids in Slytherin with her.” Her tone shifted to utter bitterness as her fork stabbed into a piece of toast on her plate, almost knocking the cheap porcelain object onto the ground. “Egotistical much. If y/n's friends with her there's no way she's a good cookie. Not to mention everyone literally calls them the Jewels, they're practically Slytherin royalty! Even if they didn't hate our guts they'd still be out of your league. Plus, their favorite hobby is probably stealing candy from the first years or something and who wants to date someone like that?”

The six chuckle at the thought as Lara adds, “they’re also probably all straight, so you and lover girl have like no chance Meg. Even if you did have a chance, come on, why her?” Megan’s roommates eyes softened, “out of all the fish in the sea? There's so many people who would die to have you, Megs, and you just have to fall in love with the last person who would ever want you. She’d probably rather die than even be in your vicinity."

Megan sighs at the group's words, all of them attempting to talk her out of her unreciprocated endearment for you. Her fingers rake through her copper red hair, pulling at the stands in frustration, “it’s not my fault she’s so… ugh. How does one even describe it?” her eyes gloss the group, all diligently listening to her words. “Ethereal? I just seem to gravitate towards her wherever I go. It’s like you know, astronomy? She’s the planet and I’m an orbiting moon,” a dumb smile grazing her face at the thought before Yoonchae comments, “I’m pretty sure purebloods like her don’t dabble in that type of astronomy you idiot. It’s muggle nonsense they’d say. You’re such a nerd.”

As the words register in Megan’s brain, she returns to her former frown before it drops further upon Manon’s reminder, “y/n is of the least importance right now, what we should remember is how the full moon is next weekend, you dummies.”

The group groans at the comment as they mutter.

“Did you have to bring that up?”

“This soon?”

“Has it really been 28 days yet?."

Finally, everyone’s gaze softened, traveling to Megan. “What? I’ll be fine,” she mutters at the concern though her words trail off at the end, “it happens every month anyways."

The rest of the Kats look at each other before going back to their food, noticing Megan's lack of enthusiasm while discussing the matter. As the rest eat away, Megan feels her appetite drain, choosing to fiddle with her utensils instead. Her head shoots up upon noticing movement around the Slytherin table watching you and your group get up to leave. Her ears catch the distinct sound of your heels clacking on the limestone floor as you walk past. Her nose grasps onto the smell of the expensive perfume you wear everyday, which lingers in the air for a little too long. Her body feeling a light breeze flow past upon the group's departure, and her chocolate covered orbs locking with yours as you glances back before stepping out of the hall behind your friends. The gaze lingering a little longer than what should have been a mistaken glance. Your faint smile sends mini butterflies into flight inside of Megan’s stomach when you're both still supposed to be sworn enemies.

Potions class has always been your favorite subject. Even in your first year at Hogwarts, tripping over your own feet out of pure nerves yet the class somehow still came naturally to you. It was easy, simple, straightforward. Follow the instructions, don’t doze off, and do the assigned homework. As usual, following those pieces of potion class wisdom you set for yourself, the class today was nothing but smooth sailing, other than the usual bickering between the Kats and your friends, and your desperate attempts to not fall asleep on a Tuesday morning. You finally prepare to leave the classroom, maybe take a stroll by the lake and lose your friends for a few minutes. Your hand moving out of habit to slowly pick up your notebook from the worn desk, already losing its color from years of use. “Ms l/n!” the professor called, causing your head to snap up, out of habit. “Could you stay behind for a second? Ms Skiendiel too,” he motioned to the redheaded girl mirroring your actions, also slowly cleaning up her table.

You nod with your classic smile as you walk up to the professor's desk, “what’s the matter?”

The professor smiles as Megan joins the conversation, choosing to stand beside you. “Ms Skiendiel, your performance in my potions class has been less than stellar recently and I do not wish you to fall behind once O.W.L. season arrives. Therefore, I recommend some tutoring sessions with our top student, if that is alright with Ms l/n here?” he asks, turning his attention to you.

Your lips quirk up into a rehearsed smile in an attempt to hide your inner turmoil. Your mind couldn’t help but think, Wonyoung was going to lose her mind over this. “Of course, that works for me," the words flow sharply. The focus then turns to Megan, who felt like her heart was beating out of her chest as she attempted to wrap her head around the absolute disaster she had wrapped herself into. “I- I mean yea, that’s a brilliant plan…” silence engulfs the room, “thanks for the help” Megan squeezes out, attempting to muster up a smile.

The professor beams, “lovely, Ms l/n, you have the class keys so feel free to come in here for those sessions. I hope you two can settle any possible disagreements and make this a successful partnership academically. Now, you two are both dismissed." Megan feels herself let out a small sigh of relief, settle any possible disagreements she thought back to herself, as if that's even possible with a snake, or as the rest of the school called them, the literal Slytherin family jewels. God she was doomed from the start… or was she?

You quickly thank the professor before leaving the room, trying to lose the girl following right behind you. Instead, you’re met with Megan’s shuffled runs ringing close behind you while you speed run down the halls. As she finally catches up, her cheeks flush red even though it’s still warm out. After her poor attempts at hiding her blush, she carefully curates a meek question, “so… when and where?”

To Megan’s surprise, you responded to her with a thoughtful look, as if pondering the meaning behind her words, dissecting its intention, reading between the lines, looking to see if it meant more than just pitching logistics. The action sends butterflies soaring in the redheads stomach, a blush reappearing at your words. “So… Megan let me think, I’ll be free today after school, so if you'd like that'd give us a head start. I should also be able to make something work on Thursday and Friday. I’m thinking after school in the potions classroom. Then we could do the same thing next week. What about you?”

Megan feels your gaze burning a hole through her skull as she tries to hide her hesitation on how close it was to the full moon. She lies through her teeth, “today sounds good for me. But I’m busy next Thursday and Friday so...”

You nod, "don't worry about it. We can do today and Thursday and then next Tuesday and Wednesday? Something like that."

Megan looks at her shoes as if it just became the most interesting thing in the world, "yea, that's good... See you today after classes in the potions classroom then."

"Lighten up, I don't bite... usually," you lift your hand to cover your mouth as you laugh at your own joke.

Megan's brain starts working overtime. Your words sounded so kind as if you weren’t a part of the Jewels which made her presence on campus their 13th reason. Your laugh echoing down the halls like music to her ears. Everytime you spoke it was as if prestige and money just fell from your lips, you sounded expensive, out of reach, unobtainable.

You look at Megan, "sorry, that's probably not the best comment to be saying right now. I can't say my groups have been the kindest to you lot—” You clear your throat as if the action would remove the thick tension between you two. “—anyways I should find my friends," you said gently as your eyes softened, "see you," the words sprung from your mouth.

"Yea... See you…" Megan responds as her emotions are thrown into a whirlwind. This y/n was nothing like the one she was usually met with. Sure, you were never one to start the arguments or spew cruel words but you certainly never attempted to stop it... or did you? The times where you would intervene as Wonyoung and Daniela’s vision started blurring red, announcing to the group that you had "important events" to attend to and didn't want to waste time fighting with such lowlifes. Or when the groups began taunting each other in the classrooms and you would roll your eyes at the display, kicking your friends under the table to focus on the lesson or you'd have to dock points off both houses for being a distraction. Or when you would drag members of your group through the hallway as they walked past the Kats, like a mom dragging her toddler away from their favorite toy, or in this situation, their favorite subjects of taunts. Maybe you were never that bad, just silently defusing the situation? Megan thinks to herself as she shakes her head. She knew she was probably just making sense of nonsensical actions. Delusional, she thought to herself, probably because she's practically in love with you.

Megan couldn't tell.

Instead, she watches as you skip to your group of friends who began to laugh at whatever sickening words were already getting thrown her way for being spotted together.

You sigh, mentally scolding yourself for being so kind to the girl you were supposed to hate. As you sit down on the warm seat in the courtyard, right beside Wonyoung, she immediately begins her onslaught, "why were you with that loser? Don't tell me you're going soft for her out of all people—” Wonyoung’s jaw clenches at the thought. “—you could have at least gone for a blood traitor instead, why a filthy half breed? Jesus, don't make me-"

Your finger nails dig into your palms at her words. With a roll of your eyes and a glare in her direction you cut Wonyoung off, her remarks dying at the tip of her tongue. The group previously nodding feverishly seems to quiet as an uncomfortable silence creeps in. You tap your carefully manicured nails on the wooden table as you take a deep breath and shrug, "the professor merely asked me to tutor her in potions. I simply extend my intelligence to the ones in need, how kind of me, hm? Don't jump to conclusions Wonnie, no wonder you didn't get an invite to the winter ball this year. No one wants a girl mauling her date's hair out would they?” your brain begins to run at the speed of light, grasping at a good excuse for your switch in behavior, “besides, it's a good look for us if I agreed, we need to start polishing up this image or else no one is getting that head title, you hear me? You know how disappointed our parents would be if once again those roles landed with the Gryffindors over there by seventh year."

Wonyoung huffs at your words but lets the subject go. Weirdly, you felt no shame defending your actions, irritation building up at your group's temper instead. You turn your head to look at the Kats sitting across the courtyard with all of their eyes on you, but you're only searching for one pair... Megan's. Something in your eyes softens just a little as both of your gazes meet at the middle, you quickly turn back to the rest of your group, standing up and dusting your uniform. "Come on, if we're late for class I'm docking points," the group silently follows behind you as your figure retreats back into the dimly lit hallways of the Hogwarts building. Finger brushing over your chin in thought as your pinky hooks onto the delicate chain tucked between your blouse collars.

The Kats are stunned. Not once have they noticed a soul shut Wonyoung's mouth as quickly as what they just witnessed. Sure Daniela has fought with her before, yelling out profanities at every given chance, most never hitting and the few that do send Wonyoung into even more of a blinding rage. Everyone in the courtyard heard her words echoing and bouncing off the supporting pillars upon your entry, but none anticipated the dead silence which arrived without you even muttering a word.

"What the fuck?" Daniela exclaims looking around the group, asking the question everyone was attempting to wrap their heads around.

"Don't ask me, all of them look as if they saw a ghost with whatever y/n said after that look,” Manon defends as her hands fly in front of her chest, “but did you see her? The splitting image of her mother, absolutely frightening.”

"Can't say I'm surprised, with the pureblood hierarchy it's no wonder. But I don't know why she lets Wonyoung and the rest of them run their mouths like that even about her whenever she's seen with anyone but them, you know? Like you'd imagine if she could shut them up she'd do it all the time but she just lets them go off until she decides it's enough and reels them back. Crazy self restraint," Yoonchae observes while her hand nervously fiddles with the pink bow in her hair.

Daniela retorts, "oh please, you act as if she's some magician or something."

Resting a hand on Daniela's shoulder, Lara sighs, "Dani, you barely know her. Besides, from what I've heard, she can be pretty down to earth and nice sometimes."

Daniela snaps her head around, "oh come on, fake ass act. Don’t tell me you’re fooled!"

The silence alludes the group before Manon’s soft voice is heard, "she is pretty nice whenever she's not around the usual Slytherin folks. When my family still attended those pureblood balls she'd be the only kid to even step in my vicinity. Didn't care about a word the others threw at her, she does things her own way for sure… I mean, who knows what she's really like?” the question strikes the group, silence washing over them, “if I were her I'd do the same. It's not worth the trouble being outwardly kind to everyone when you're stuck in that house all day, that's social suicide, but occasional kindness when others approach is much more useful. Plus she could probably just lie and say it was for appearances sake if anyone asks."

Daniela rolls her eyes at Manon’s defense, about to snap back another retaliation. Deciding that’s enough talk about the Slytherin girl for one day, Sophia quickly turns the focus back to Megan. The redhead was still sitting there in shock, pondering the kindness she received previously, "so what happened? You were kept late with y/n."

Megan snaps back to reality, "oh yea," she blushes lightly, awkwardly tucking some hair behind her ears. "The professor wanted her to tutor me, my grades in potions haven't been… the best necessarily? She agreed, so we're meeting today after school… Um, she was... pretty nice? Even acknowledged the group rivalry... so that was awkward, but good! …Right?."

The group hums as the oldest smiles, attempting to comfort the girl, "good to know she'll be helping you. She's like a potions god. I've heard teachers praise her academics 24/7, even the ones who usually shit talk about her group, you know? And she’s been known to be a pretty good tutor, though I suppose her students are also Slytherins. But honestly, that's some talent you can't refute."

Daniela rolls her eyes as she picks at the coat of paint on the table, "yea whatever, I would rather fail my O.W.L. and redo the year then get tutored by her."

"You're just a hater," Lara mutters with a fond smile as the Kats laugh at the comment.

Would it be bad to admit she had been looking forward to the tutoring session all day? Megan ponders with a noticeable flutter in her chest as she walks towards the potions classroom, shaking off her thoughts as she pushes open the door. Inside, you were already by the ingredients cabinet making sure all the needed materials were present, head snapping back upon hearing the noise. "Megan," you smile, a little too hard for it to be natural but enough that you could get away with the odd action. You clear your throat, suppressing the urge to grin like an idiot already, you barely knew the girl, but it felt right. "Um, I'm just grabbing some stuff. You can prep the cauldron right now," you awkwardly said before noticing her confused expression, "oh! Um… Set your stuff down wherever."

Megan's shoulders visibly loosen at your command. She sets her bags down on a chair as you quickly turn back around to the cabinets which lined the walls, almost falling off the ladder in the process. You couldn’t help but stare at the girl, the way her hair framed her face, the determined look in her eyes. You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you should keep your distance and reject any hints of friendship. You knew you should have rejected the idea of tutoring her in potions in the very first place, but how does one deny themselves the pleasure of being able to see her puppy dog eyes every time they glance across the great hall during meal time, bump shoulders when walking through the Hogwarts halls, listen for her laughter when you choose a table a little too close to the rest of the Kats instead of the opposite side of the courtyard. It's not your fault she was so damn mesmerizing, but you know it’s your fault for letting yourself get this close. You have a reputation to keep. The words swirl in your mind as you grapple with your dilemma. Your heart or your brain? Megan or what you’ve always known? Or could you have both? (No, that could never be…of course not) "So... what's the plan for today?" Megan asks, unaware of the bitter thoughts gnawing at you in your head.

You snap to attention noticing how long you’ve been standing there in silence. "Oh yes! We will be doing the Drought of Peace, we went over it in class last week and I noticed you weren’t the most confident in it so we should go through it. It’ll be on the O.W.L. anyways,” you chuckle, hoping Megan didn’t notice your slip up on how you’ve been paying attention to her in class. You never blundered, you never make mistakes, so how come your heart starts pounding and you begin forgetting everything you’ve known once Megan’s vanilla perfume wafts your away. All your secrets slipping out from your tongue before you’ve even registered her words.

Megan couldn’t help it as the corners of her lips rose, her whisker dimples showing a little. “I was hoping you didn’t notice that,” she mutters, hand scratching the back of her neck, almost ashamed of her action.

“It’s okay, potions don't come naturally to everyone,” you smile even though your cheeks are beginning to burn from the constant action. For once, the overdramatic smile burns in a good way. You want it to stay burning, for it to never be wiped off your face. Instead, you watch as Megan prepares the cauldron, good technique, proper heat settings, appropriate water levels, almost makes you wonder why she had been struggling with the class in the first place. “You’re a natural, how come the professor says you’re struggling then?” you tease with an unknowing smile.

Megan feels her cheeks light up like they’re on fire as she looks down to her feet muttering, “I have trouble reading the instructions and the professor always talks so fast." She begins fidgeting with her rings, this was it she thinks to herself, as if you didn’t have enough things to make fun of her for, now you have more. She prepares herself for the cruel remarks your friends usually throw at her.

They don’t come.

“Oh,” you mutter unaware of Megan’s inner turmoil, “what was the muggle word? Dyslexic? No wonder you’re struggling, potions class isn’t very dyslexic friendly. Honestly most classes aren’t,” you chuckle. “Tell me if you need help with any other subjects! We can probably figure something out so that potions class is a bit easier for you. We could try breaking down the instructions a bit more, they’re quite wordy for how simplistic they are in reality and you can practice just reciting them or copying them down so they store better in your long term memory? Plus, I can read the instructions out for you. Then after we run through all the important potions you need to know, we can practice how potions will appear on the O.W.L and troubleshoot that?” the silence after your words linger in the room as Megan looks at you in shock. “Sorry… was I rambling again?” you wince, believing you overstepped already, “I don’t get to talk about stuff like this much… My friends aren’t the most studious and Sakura, who does actually take this stuff seriously, is still pretty down so I’d rather not ramble on and on about it…”

Megan quickly shakes her head as her cheeks flush from embarrassment. “Oh no no, I just… didn’t think you’d be so receptive…” her words quicken, tumbling out right after the last, “the wizarding world doesn’t really take things like this so seriously. I just imagined you wouldn’t… get it?”

Your grin returns, “don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m happy to help! Let’s just start with the potion right?” You were starting to wonder why you were acting so nice with the redhead, you had every reason to scoff at her but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t ever even dream of doing that to her. Not in a million years. Not even if your parents asked.

Again, you don’t dwell on it. You open up Megan’s potions textbook, clearly well loved and probably second hand from its presentation. Your finger trails down the inky words on the page as your eyes notice the dog eared corners of the page, the frayed binding on the book, the stain marks on the paper. Though this would never fly in your household, something that would usually make you irk from the inside out. There was something so comfortable about it.

At last, your pointer finger stills at the ingredients list, “here we go. Meg, you mind grabbing some moonstone, the bottled syrup of hellebore, some stewed mandrake, unicorn horn powder and porcupine quills?”

“Yea, um sounds good,” Megan said as she can’t help but glow at the nickname that slipped from your tongue. She turns on her ankle, moving towards the cabinet. Your behavior was giving her whiplash, one second giddy and supportive, giving her nicknames like it was the most natural thing to do, but then acting as if you barely knew her apart from another Gryffindor freak when you were with your friends. She goes up on her tippy toes, attempting to grab the last ingredient on the top of the shelf. Going up on her tippy toes, doing little jumps to try and grab the jar. You turn around hearing commotion from her direction and chuckle at her action, "I'll grab it." You go up on the tips of your feet and easily remove the container of pearly white power from the top of the storage cabinets, "here you go," you said, handing the can to her.

The hours soon passed by like seconds as you stood with Megan, walking her through each step of the concoction. Reading every instruction out loud, simplifying unnecessarily long words, coming up with rhymes to make the steps easier to remember. At last, you smile as the potion emits a silvery vapour, signaling success. “See you’re not that bad!” you remark.

“Probably just because you’re here making sure I don’t blow anything up,” Megan beams proudly at the compliment.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at her words, a sudden thought appearing in your mind “grab me a cup won’t you?”

“Oh sure,” Megan responds as she grabs a small paper cup from a side drawer and hands it to you. As you go to grab it, your finger brushes against hers. Suddenly, it was as if your skin lit on fire from the mere touch, your gaze jumped straight to Megan’s, noticing how her face turned tomato red from the action. You lick your lips nervously trying to ignore the tension in the room, swiftly turning your body back to the cauldron as you pour a little into the cup, giving it a sip.

Megan gasps, “hey, you know if it was made wrong you could like… fall into an irreversible sleep."

You can’t help but grin, “oh I know Megs, I can tell it worked. I’m not dumb enough to drink a visibly failed potion, am I?” The room seemed to suddenly dim, “I could use something to calm my nerves right now... I’m supposed to get a letter from my parents sometime this… or next week,” your voice trails off at the end of your words, causing your gaze to drop and your lips to press together, forming a thin line. “Nothing to worry about, you know? Just family stuff," you said to Megan, your hand running over your neck, fiddling with the thin chain of your necklace clinking against the little fox charm hanging on the side. You speak as if you were trying to ease her mind, knowing deep down those words were meant to ease your worries instead, once again with little to no prevail.

Megan can’t help but notice the tension that remains in your body as you set the cup down. Shoulders still tense. “Anyways, let’s clean up,” you mutter, returning the ingredients back to where they belonged on the tidy wooden shelves of the classroom. Placed back to perfection.

You seem to have suddenly started to like potions class more than you already did, especially now that you have a reason to stay close to the Gryffindor girl without Wonyoung or the rest of the Snakes getting pissed with you about it. As the classes continued, you always found yourself sneaking glances across the room to look at Megan’s work (or maybe just the girl herself), making sure it didn’t turn out to be an utter disaster. Asking the professor to repeat his previous comment about the potion just a tad slower though you’ve already memorized all the steps, just because you noticed Megan looking confused at his practically rapped words. Walking past her table when grabbing materials and sneakily leaving behind a container on her desk with an ingredient she missed, lightly bumping into her when walking by to wake her from her dissociations, avoiding over stirred potions. It wasn’t soon until the professor noticed your little actions, especially as Megan’s performance gradually began to climb. By the end of the week the professor had announced he’d be enacting seating plans, most people becoming pretty pissed off at the thought. Other than you, since it only just created another reason for you to be sitting beside the ginger girl all the way in the back of the classroom hidden from sight. The word of the arrangement spread fast, everyone speculating about what would happen if a cat and snake were put in the same basket.

“I can’t believe he set you two up like that,” Soobin muttered, carving his name into the wooden table in the courtyard, “man, it’s insane."

“Does he like playing matchmaker or something with the two? I couldn’t imagine having to sit by a Kat, yet alone a filthy half breed. Don’t even get me started on sitting by that loser,” Ningning scoffs admiring her nails

“I don’t know how you do it, sitting beside her and tutoring her just for one subject, and twice a week, ha!” Hyunjin chuckles, throwing his head back with a small laugh as if he was downing a shot of fire whiskey. You simply nod along to all of their words, as if it’d stop them from being registered in your mind. You didn’t want to accept that the jokes were becoming more the just annoying, starting to bother you in a way that they never would have done before. Maybe you were going soft for the Gryffindor freak. Wonyoung was right, but maybe you don’t mind this time. Megan had to be different, right?

Sakura sighed as her eyes softened, locking with yours, “I think we should drop it, it’s just a stupid seating plan, you know?” a tug pulling on the corners of your mouth as you continue to hastily scribble down notes in your potions notebook. Notes for the redheaded girl.

“Workaholic,” Wonyoung whispers as everyone, even you can’t help but smile along at the remark. “It could be worse though. That Megan freak is better than I don’t know… Daniela?” she scoffs, flicking her hair back out of her face. “That blood traitor is the worst of them all, head in her ass all day. Someone needs to bring her back down to reality.”

You look up from your notes, “Wonnie, you really shouldn’t say that here. They’re just a table away,” you begin awkwardly, getting cut off by Wonyoung's muttering, “who the hell cares.” Soon, commotion surrounds the group one table down.

Megan knew she should be thinking about how the full moon was already this weekend but she couldn’t help but try and overhear the Snakes conversation circulating on the table just across from them. Besides, who wouldn’t want to know what was getting conversed when her and your name were now the talk of the school? That was a great idea, other than the fact every other Kat at her table were thinking the same thing, coming to a halt at the hateful words Wonyoung muttered just loud enough for them to hear, jabbing at the most reactive member of the group. Megan winced at your small attempt to get her to stop before Daniela started another fight, but it was too late.

“Yo, you think we’re easy to bully, hm?” Daniela snaps, marching out of her seat towards your table. “Fucking look at me man, not cool. You are all such fucking bitches! Talking about us like we’re not even there. What? Your mommy’s and daddy’s don’t love you enough so you have to search for attention here!?” Daniela’s hands grip the edge of the snake's table, her fingers trembling with anger as they grow white at the tips. Her hands pressed so hard into the wood it dug into the worn piece of furniture, leaving splinters littered in its trace, drawing blood which dripped onto the cobblestone floor.

Wonyoung bites back with a smirk. “You’re just mad because I’m right, whore” the emphasis on the word dropping a blanket of silence over the courtyard. “How many girls have you fucked at school huh? None of them even wants you back the next morning,” she scoffs. “You have your head in the clouds. Your followers convert once they realize how nasty you are to be around. And for your information, our parents love us a lot. You think we’d be getting gifts every other week if they didn’t? Your parents don’t even bother sending letters, they only send howlers when you get your troublesome ass in detention. If I was your parents I’d regret a lot of things,” Wonyoung smirking at the implication while Daniela’s eyes glossed up with unshed tears. “Aw you crybaby, can’t take some constructive criticism?” she taunts. Daniela attempts to muster together a few words in response but her lips just quiver in place. “Thought so, so fuck off," the snake bites, as she pushes Daniela away from the table, causing her to land on the hard stone floor with a thud.

The Kats watch in shock. Never has Wonyoung been so cruel to the girl before or even projected those insults to include the whole. Megan watches, hopeful that you would do something to stop Wonyoung’s verbal assault, but you merely continue scribbling down illegible words on your notebook. A wave of disappointment washes over the redhead as she watches the hopeless scene. Wonyoung leans down towards Daniela, mouth opening to deliver the final blow until a calm voice cuts through, “Wonnie, stop it. You’ve made your point."

Wonyoung huffs as she leans back, returning to the table. She sits down on the bench backwards, setting her elbows down on the edge of the wooden surface, head held high like the Kats were below her. The girl mutters, “killing my mood."

“Someone has to keep you in check, idiot. Don’t you have common room clean? I’d hate to have to report you for neglecting your responsibilities. Run off and do something useful. Don’t waste your energy on people like them,” you said, waving her off as your other hand flies to your collar, the pad of your thumb rubbing against the fox charm dangling from your necklace like a body strung to a noose. The weight was choking you to death, yet you still fought it.

“Oh shut up,” Wonyoung mumbles while she rolls her eyes. “But fine, and don’t call them people. They might as well be pests,” she said, standing up and walking away. Finally snapping back into reality, Ningning chuckles awkwardly, “y/n? Sorry to bother, um… Soobin and I are going to head back to the dorms, got stuff you know?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” you respond, continuing to scribble as the Kats watch in shock at the dynamic, it was as if there was a hierarchy of power within the group, and somehow, you seemed to stand somewhere close to the top. Ningning and Soobin make their exit giving the Kats dirty looks while Hyunjin follows in pursuit “Prefect duties!” he beams, jogging away.

Finally, Sakura began organizing her quills, “that’s my cue to leave, you staying here?”

You nod, “yea, suns nice out.” Sakura, sensing your hidden meaning, smiles, though a touch of sorrow creeps into her lips, “don’t-”

You cut her off with a smile, “I know." Sakura with a nod grabs all her stationeries and leaves, walking by the Kats while giving them another sad smile.

As the rest of the Snakes leave, Daniela wipes her tears before speaking, “what the hell was that!?”

“Sorry about the rest of them,” you mutter while digging through your bag. Pulling out a tissue and handing it to her. Daniela looks at you in shock, confused at the gesture, “what? Why-”

You smile softly, “Wonyoung is a bit of a bitch most times, but you can’t blame her for it. Runs in her genes. She was probably going so hard because of your comment about her parents, if you know you know?” you shake your head at the thought. “Anyhow, let me see your hands, it’s bleeding,” you said, reaching out for her bloodied hands.

Daniela reluctantly accepts your gesture to everyone's surprise, getting off the ground and sitting beside you as you examine the damage on her palms. “I’m getting blood all over you,” Daniela mutters.

You chuckle, “oh don’t worry, I’ve gotten plenty of blood on me before." The words seem to hold a hidden meaning no one could figure out, other than Manon who whispers, letting her words be carried to you by the wind, “they use the…?”

“Of course they do, not mine but the others. At least it’s good training for me as a healer,” you chuckle bitterly. “If only I was blessed like you Manon, but not all of us have the freedom you were granted with. Lucky soul,” you smile at the thought, pulling out some tweezers as you remove the splinters from Daniela’s hands. The warmth from your palm contrasts the chill from the sanitized instrument. When you finally finish, you wipe your utensil and Daniela’s hand with an alcohol wipe, enticing a hiss from the girl. “Be careful next time, it’s never worth arguing with Wonnie. She’s stubborn and would probably rather die than lose a fight," you speak into the breeze as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. “Oh how I love spring” your lips curving into a grin before standing. “That’s my cue to leave, I need to monitor the common room clean before Hyunjin gets mad at me for ditching."

The Kats nod as you walk away with a skip in your step, as if fights like that are ordinary in your world. They exchange uneasy glances at your seemingly dual persona before Megan mumbles, “do you believe me now when I say she can be super nice?”

“Yea, what the heck,” Sophia responds as her eyebrows furrow.

Megan couldn’t help but blush thinking back on your kindness from moments before, wishing she could experience it every time you two met, even when the rest of the Snakes were around. Her wishful thoughts are interrupted as Lara clears her throat, “okay, we get it. She’s hot and nice sometimes. Now stop simping." Megan’s cheeks lit up from the comment, burning under the spring breeze as she spoke under her breath, “stop it… Not funny.” The group laughed in response.

The potions class arrangements continued, making sure Megan was keeping up with the curriculum. From hitting her knees when she was falling asleep in class, to sharing the snacks you sneak in whenever you hear her stomach grumbling, by a week in, the two of you seemed to fall into a routine. The small actions didn't go unnoticed either, from brushing against each other's hand whenever one was handing over ingredient containers, to the bumping of knees making the both of you freeze in your tracks, to even stolen glaces whenever one thought the other wasn't looking. Soon, you two reached the last organized tutoring session before the full moon, just an ordinary night of hallway patrols for you since Hyunjin was deathly superstitious, but a whole other ball game for Megan. As she enters the potions classroom you notice how pale the Gryffindor girl is. "Meg? You okay? You don't look so good," you ask concerned.

"I'm fine," Megan said, waving you off. "Just tired, a little homesick too,” she whispers to herself, “god I could use some of my moms Hainan Chicken rice."

"If it's that bad we can rearrange a time-" you suggest before getting cut off by the increasingly irritated girl, "just stop it! I'm fine."

You flinch at her tone, laced with frustration. "Okay..." you whisper before clearing your throat and returning to your usual tone, "so do we wanna review or a new potion?"

Megan looks around the room in agitation, "whatever you'd like."

"I think we should just review," you say sitting down next to the fiery tempered girl, "so, for the Drought of Peace, what is a sign the potion is a success?"

The two of you go through the usual motion. Questions being posed by you and Megan answering them. Quickly, you notice how dazed Megan seems to be, her head jerking up every few minutes as if she was on the verge of falling asleep. She yawned out of pure exhaustion. Her eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes batting through the air as her back arched, fighting back her need for rest. When did everything she did suddenly seem so attractive? You decide enough was enough, the words falling from your mouth before you even realized, "come on Meg, just go take a nap or something, you clearly need it."

"Fine," Megan retorts. "What if I nap on you?" she blurts out.

You flush bright red, one hand snapping to your neck, landing right over the icy charm dangling between your collarbones. You look at Megan attempting to decipher if she was serious or not. "You- you sure? I mean sure, go ahead I guess," you lean back into your seat as Megan lies her head down onto your lap, burying her face into your uniform. "Is... is it not uncomfortable?" you ask awkwardly trying to ignore your quickening heart rate and the butterflies in your stomach which appear at the gesture. Your question is answered with a snore as Megan immediately falls asleep. You blink a few times trying to understand what just happened, only for Megan to shift closer to you. Naturally, your hand goes to her back, giving it support so she doesn't roll off your lap while the other finds itself threading through her ginger locks, flowing through your fingers like silk, shining under the dim classroom lighting. Megan lets out a content sigh at the gesture as sleep continues to consume her tired frame.

Your mind wanders at what this signifies for your relationship, somehow, only one statement comes to mind, you've truly gone soft for the Gryffindor girl, and you know deep down, you didn't mind it at all. Perhaps you quite enjoyed it actually. The clock ticked by until it was 15 minutes from dinner time. You attempt to ignore the pit growing at the bottom of your stomach, you couldn’t tell if it was hunger or regret. Finally, you decide to wipe your clammy palms on your uniform skirt, something your mother would surely disapprove of, before mustering up the courage and tapping Megan awake. "Meg? Dinner time," you say softly.

"Oh, this soon?" she asks, groggily rubbing her distinct coffee brown eyes, "we should go."

"Yea, one of us should enter before the other though or people will get suspicious," you suggest, wanting to avoid any more rumors.

"Smart," Megan agrees, standing up and tucking the wooden chair in behind her. The pair of you leave the potions classroom before going your separate ways, attempting to take 2 different routes to the great hall. You stop Megan before she leaves. "Just saying, if you need anything find me okay?" you ask the tired girl.

"Of course," Megan responds, turning on her heel as she walks to the nearest staircase which just stopped on your floor, you on the other hand, venture in the opposite direction.

You enter the bright dining hall, heels clicking on the tile floor signaling your arrival. Pushing open the wooden door, your friends immediately perk up at the sound, giving you a warm welcome with a saved seat.

"How was the tutoring session?" Sakura asks softly, like she was leaving space for something, someone, she was afraid of saying out loud.

"Good," you say, beginning to load your plate with food as your stomach growls, "just did some review so nothing big today, so no extra potions to bring back to yall."

The group shrugs. "That's fine. I think we're getting our letters today though," Hyunjin remarks, stuffing his face.

Wonyoung flicks her hair back, having it land behind her shoulders. "Ugh, they're going to get on our asses about the most random stuff. Like you're not even here at school with us, leave it alone," she complains.

Ningning chuckles, "or they'll pull something like make sure to stay in shape, you still need to fit in that dress we bought for you for the summer solstice festival knowing that it was already one size too small!" She said, mocking her parents' tone, "they're absolutely ridiculous."

"Oh please! At least no marriage proposals yet. You know Jennie Kim from a few years back? Remember the ruckus caused by the letter her family sent her informing her she was getting married off right after seventh year graduation? I doubt that will happen to any of us so it could be worse for sure," Soobin said leaning in, his voice lowering, "I heard her and her husband's marriage has been horrible. They didn't even get invited to last winter's ball because they'd argue so much. Crazy because she was quite popular back when she was still here at Hogwarts." Everyone frowns at the memory of the incident, quietly returning to their food trying to forget the drama. The silence hangs over the Snakes like a heavy fog, blinding their senses from the chaos coming their way.

Soon multicolored owls swoop into the Great Hall, dropping letters from the sky down to their recipients. A black envelope with a gold dusted, blood red seal fell like snow from the sky, landing right in front of you. Laying on the wooden table like a taunt to your agitated demeanor.

"Gonna open it right now?" Sakura whispers, leaning down towards your ear.

"Probably," you murmur as you turn to Hyunjin. "Dude, did you bring your letter opener? I forgot it was letter day so I left it on my nightstand."

"Yea, here you go," he responds, handing you the silvery tool. It glistens under the warm lighting of the hall, cool to the touch though it burns your skin like a splatter of hot oil. You put the tip of the tool to the fold of the crisp charcoal colored envelope, slicing open the paper like a hot knife to butter as the crimson lining is revealed. You place the letter opener back in front of Hyunjin, the paleness of the material inside alluding you. With shaky hands you remove the sheet of paper from its cage, opening it up while flattening its creases, a habit you picked up from your mother. Besides, everything must be completed to perfection, for there is no room for mistakes when you embody generations of carefully curated personas. The necklace featuring your family crest dangling over your heart as it vividly reminds you of your duty. A little fox reminding you of your place. The bejeweled charm sparkles brightly under the dim lighting, digging into your skin, blinding your sight.

Your eyes glaze over its contents, the carefully chosen coffee brown ink contrasting the snowy white paper as the cursive writing distinct to the women of your family echoes on the page. The words register in your brain, nothing important at first, just reminders of etiquette, well wishes on school work, acknowledgements of prefect duties. Then, the section your dreading hits, your eyes scanning over the words, "my daughter, as you understand our families activities have not been limited to purely pureblooded folks. As our child, we understand your want to engage with both sides of relations as well, purebloods and the rest rejected by such society. You have been able to keep rumours of your adventures with non-purebloods to a minimum but do not get cocky. You must manage relations with both the Slytherine folks while balancing relations with the others without interference with each other. News has been brought to us of your closeness with one such Gryffindor, one of the Skiendiels. Do not let down your guard and ensure appropriate measures are in place to control possible damage. Keep up the work and we expect only the best from you. I hope my trust is not wasted. Do not make this freedom a disaster as your older siblings have done before. We raised you to be better." To most this would signal a sigh of relief, but you understand the true connotation, a light warning of a possible loose end, and loose ends are never tolerated. Now you must figure out how to continue your arrangements with Megan without further news reaching your parents or the rest of the Snakes.

At the end of the day, orders are orders and your job is to obey. You swiftly fold the letter up, sliding it back into the dark envelope as you run a finger through your hair at the thought of such a task, practically impossible. You stand, not wanting to stick around the rest of your group who simply remind you of your unlucky predicament. The letter is hastily shoved into your pocket as you stand, excusing yourself from the table as you rush down the hall, towards the large wooden doors located at the end of the room. The sound of your shoes clicking across the floor, echoing a sense of urgency in your step. Your need to escape, to get away from the suffocating air as you feel yourself begin to spiral from the task handed to you. You twist and turn down the symmetrical hallways of the school before seeking refuge in a nearby bathroom stall.

Megan finds herself snapping to attention at the familiar sounds of your heels against the glossy limestone paved across the school. Her eyes drift to your figure, seemingly agitated with a suspicious ferocity in your step. She knew it was a bad idea to follow, the full moon would be in a few days, and you seemed to not want the attention. Don’t even get her started on how being seen together would be a social disaster, yet something compelled her to follow. She watches your figure retreat into the halls of the school for a few seconds before mustering up the strength to follow behind. Attempting to hide suspicion, she tells her friends she needed to find Madam Pomphry for medication, the announcement a little too loud for it to have been accidental but perhaps that was the point behind Megan's words. Soon she finds herself seeking out the familiar click, bouncing off the walls and paintings of the building. At last, she arrives at the bathroom you disappeared into. With a breath, she enters, asking into the air, "y/n? Are you there?"

Your chest freezes at the sound of a voice. Her voice. Megan's voice. The start of all your problems. The tone seems to reek of concern and sweetness, reminding you of why you decided to take the risk in the first place. For you would take a million risks for another moment with the redheaded girl. Your mouth opens and closes, the tears clogging the back of your throat.

The silence is deafening.

Eventually, you take a shaky breath before responding, "yea... Meg? What are you doing?" your voice wavering in the cold bathroom air.

“I mean I just wanted to check if you were okay. You like, ran away from dinner, you know? I mean. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, but like-” You tune out her voice, for the first time her usually cute rambling seemed to drive your already agitated demeanour up the wall. “You shouldn’t have came,” you say, cutting her off, voice leaking with unfiltered annoyance. Usually you could never bear to say something like that to the sweet girl, but the letter had been your last straw. The irony was not lost on you. How Megan was the only one who seemed to care enough to follow you, though she was the reason for your initial distress. The gods must be playing a sick game with your heart, betting on which chain of events would surely be the most soul crushing.

Megan’s emotions were already high from the full moon and your statement seemed to simply heighten it. You had never talked to her in that way before, the four words acting like knives to her heart. Her eyes begin to water, “I just wanted to talk, y/n. I was worried about you, I can go if you’d like."

“God Megan, just go fuck off or something,” the words rolling off of your tongue like it was the easiest thing to say. The words stung, a bitter pill to swallow. You can hear the waterworks begin as the sound of teardrops dying on the marble floor echo into your ears. The small sounds of shuffling are heard, distinctly Megan‘s, reminding you of all the times you’ve watched her be teased and shoved out of the way by your group. You know you should just let her go, it’d be easier for the both of you, but when have you known any better? You pry your mouth open as you mutter into the air, “Megs, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. That was cruel of me to say… Don’t go… please?” You pause as the words linger in the frosty air. Desperation gnawed at you to continue taking back the half hearted words you threw. You knew you were no better than the rest of the snakes. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

Yet, the silence continues. At this point, your brain is already half convinced that Megan had left. Your head spirals, have you really driven her away? Maybe it’s for the better? But a small voice cuts through the air with a sniffle, “it’s okay, I know you wouldn’t mean it… you’re not like the rest of them."

“Yes, I am. What do you know about me?” you retort, the words tumble out from your tongue, reflecting the multitude of thoughts running through your head.

“I know you like the sunset more than the sunrise because if you get sad half way through, the night will conceal your tears. I know you like the rain because you can always blame it for your ruined mascara. I know you want to be a healer so that kids don’t have to step into the position like you have. I know that you know you should hate me… yet here we are. So… what were you running from?” Megan speaks with soft conviction, attempting to silence your doubts. Her own anxiety was clear as the sounds of her picking her own nails rang in the empty room.

“Myself,” you murmur, words passing through the stall door. “And everything that reminds me of myself,” the words continue as your forehead rests on the cold metal wall. “Go back before your friends get worried, I’ll be fine,” you say, clearing your throat.

Megan can tell you’re lying through your teeth but she doesn’t push it. She knows she’s already tried her luck enough for one night. Besides, she didn’t want to provoke you enough that her own emotions came flooding out. “Okay… I’ll see you?” she said with hesitance, finally wiping away her tears.

“I suppose so… and don’t cry, please. I’m not worth crying over,” you say with a bitter chuckle, knowing you were once again betraying your better judgement. You always prided yourself on knowing better than the others. You had never strayed from the given path before, yet now you do so, just for her, like it’s in your nature, like this was meant to be.

“You don’t know that,” Megan responds, fiddling with her fingers, picking at her skin as she shuffles out of the room, fidgeting all the way back to the Great Hall. You just stay there, basking in your tears as you wonder how you let yourself get to this point.

The thought of the week finally nearing its end eases the tension you felt from the letter last night. You sit down in your usual potions seat, anticipating Megan’s arrival, but as the professor begins speaking, the air beside you remains unoccupied. Your mind races, what if you drove Megan away? You were originally planning to apologize to her again for your behavior last night, but she seemed to be nowhere to be found. For the first time ever, potions class seems like a curse. With Megan away, you seemed to fall apart. Your potion turns out wonky for the first time ever, a slick green when it was supposed to be a pearly white. You replace the stir stick at least a dozen times due to it falling into the cauldron while you dozed off every other second. You somehow accidentally nicked your finger when cutting the anemone growth from a Murtlap. By the end of the hour you were exhausted, breathing a sigh of relief as the professor finally dismissed the class. You pack your things into your bag and sprint out of the room in search of the girl who's been on your mind since the night before. The professor looks at you in shock, usually you’d spend the next 15 minutes chatting with him while perfecting the recipe, but today you were gone like you were never even there in the first place.

You begin wondering about the school in search. You checked the washrooms, each classroom she could be at, the courtyard, even the hospital wing. Somehow, in an attempt out of sheer desperation, you stop Daniela right outside the Transfiguration class room. “Daniela, please wait a second,” you pant, gasping for air after running up and down the Hogwarts staircases and hallways for the last hour.

Daniela looks at you in surprise, never expecting you to purposefully seek her out. Her voice is weary as she responds, “what? Also have a problem with me now?”

“No, I’ve just been looking for Megan. You know where she is?”

Daniela practically cuts you off, swiftly responding, “no I don’t, you should drop it." Her gaze lowers to the floor as if she was holding something back, the action comes and goes before she pushes you out of the doorway and enters the classroom.

You freeze at the action before shaking your head in disappointment. You glance at your watch to make sure you weren’t late for your class, before realizing you had a perfect meeting starting in 5 minutes. That was the last thing you needed, but you pulled yourself together and walked towards the Great hall. Upon entering Hyunjin obnoxiously begins to tease you for almost being late, an unconventional situation for someone who prided themselves on showing up 15 minutes early for everything. You wave him off with a huff, clearly not in the mood for any bickering as you sat down at one of the tables. You lock eyes with Sophia, one of Megan’s friends if you remembered correctly, making a mental note to ask her what happened to Megan after the meeting. Soon the head boy and girl began distributing night patrol routines, and as soon as they asked, Sophia spoke up sharply, “I’ll take the shifts outside every night."

Everyone's eyes snapped to her, though it was common for Sophia to always take up the shift, concern had been growing with the fact werewolf sightings had spiked drastically in the past few months. “You’ll need a partner to do it with you,” the head girl responds, pointing out the obvious safety concerns.

Your eyes widened, this could be a perfect opportunity to inquire about Megan’s whereabouts. Sophia had always been one of the more level headed members of the group. You glance around noticing no one else was willing to take the shift, for obvious reasons. With that, your hand shoots up, your expression feigning indifference, “I can do it with her I guess." The rest of the group nods in approval, happy someone else other than themselves took on the role. Soon your brain began to drown out the commotion of everyone else fighting over patrol shifts. The end of the meeting blurring as all you could think about was Megan and her disappearance. As everyone else in the room left, Sophia stayed behind with you as if she had something to say as well.

“Y/n,” she asks as you turn to face her.

“What’s the matter?”

“You shouldn’t have taken the shift”

“So?”

Sophia’s mouth dries up at your short response, her jaw locking as she stands in contemplation. Slowly, her jaw retracts as she continues, “just don’t come bother me during the shift. I’ll take the side near the shrieking shack and forbidden forest, you just monitor the other side okay?”

You wonder why that arrangement was of such grave importance to the raven haired girl but decide that would be a question to ask in the near future. “Okay,” you agree without a fight, watching as the statement sent the composed girl into shock. “I do have a question for you though,” you say as the gears in your head start turning, “where’s Megan been?”

The question enlists the same response from Sophia as it did with Daniela. “None of your business,” she retorts sharply, wanting to end the conversation.

The gears click into place, “if you tell me I’ll follow the plan with the shift, if you don’t I’ll bother you the whole time." You knew it was a little evil to threaten Sophia like that but you had to know if Megan was okay. Besides, Slytherins were meant to be cunning, and Sophia gave you such a good opportunity to extort the information out of her, you weren’t going to waste it.

Sophia stops in her tracks as her eyes widen in shock, blurting out, “I- She’s not feeling well, in her dorm,” hoping that’s enough for you to drop the topic.

You nod at the vague answer, ironically already feeling bad for your action. Instead, deciding that was all you needed to know about her whereabouts. Of course, you couldn’t visit her if that’s the case, simply too risky. “Tell her to take care and that I have potions notes to give her,” you mumble as Sophia nods to your words, desperate to leave before you decide to push further. You pick up your bag full of textbooks and leave, suspicion growing over why the group of Gryffindors would need to conceal Megan’s location and whatever was happening tomorrow night.

Your head had been in overdrive for longer than you could even comprehend at this point. The walls of your room blur as you orient yourself for your late night patrol. Now you were beginning to regret the decision of signing up for such a late shift, just to ask Sophia a question she half answered. You leave the comfortable shadows of the Slytherin common room, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach as if warning you of something that’s about to go horribly wrong. Your heart pounds like a warning sign. In a search for comfort, your hands fly to the shimmering fox charm on your necklace, a reminder of a back up plan if all went wrong. Though turning into a fox in front of a Gryffindor would probably be a death sentence, you attempt to convince yourself that if you had to turn into animagus form, the two of you would surely be in mortal danger and whether she saw would be the last of your worries.

You finally find yourself at the Hogwarts lawn, the cool breeze of the night filling your lungs, refreshing your mind. You snap to attention when you hear steps beside you, Sophia. In silent agreement, the two of you wander to patrol your respective sides of the school grounds. As the night darkens, the moon rises. It’s full this time, and the pit in your stomach grows at the sight. The bright circular orb dances in the pitch black sky, littered with millions of sparkling diamonds floating around.

Suddenly, a howl pierces through the air, shaking you to your core. You had always been hesitant to believe the werewolf accusations thrown around at school, but this just confirmed all possible suspicions. You immediately sprint over to Sophia’s side of the lawn, about to check up on the Filipino girl, but she was nowhere to be found. Suddenly you spot a wave of unlikely animals sprinting towards you, their expressions a little too familiar to be random.

Everything clicks into place.

The next moments of your life seem to blur into slow motion as you watch a deer, eyes wide, run past you with a literal lion following behind. Your head snaps back to watch the scene, jaw running slack. Once you twist your head back in front of you, you feel a soft brush as a white kitten with a small pink bow makes its way past you. Back towards the shrieking shack. At this point your mind has gone fuzzy, freezing at the unusual scene. You begin to doubt your brain, wondering if you’re still in bed dreaming about your shift. You’re soon thrown back into reality as a crane elegantly flies over, its beak latching onto your uniform cape, trying to tug you away. A panther follows its actions, nudging your legs, as if rushing you to run. You stare at the creatures, one looking too similar to a certain prefect you rushed over to check back on. The thoughts are wiped from your head as your legs fail you instead. Only managing to take 2 steps back before falling onto the cold grass covered in dew, drenching your uniform. As the ruffling of leaves in the forest nears, the two creatures abandon their attempts on saving you and continue heading towards the shrieking shack behind the initial trio. Soon, two pairs of coffee brown eyes, glowing under the pale moon, lock onto yours. Panic swarms through your body as your hand flies to the fox charm hanging over your beating heart. The creature starts to sprint full force at you, a certain ferocity you couldn’t pin point. It sends a shiver down your spine, dread setting into your stomach. Your eyes close.

You are sure you’re going to die.

The squelching of paw prints being pressed into the muddy floor speed towards your ears just a little too close for comfort. Your mothers words ring through your head, “if you’re ever in trouble, just turn into your animagus form. We can sort through the fallout after." In the blink of an eye, the forgotten act seemed to come back to you, smoothly transforming back into the fox-like version of yourself. Your solid black coat glowing under the night sky as your eyes lock onto the humanoid wolf-like creature which just stopped above you. Its clouded gaze somehow softens once it recognizes you, eyes shining. Shining like falling leaves on a cool autumn walk. Like the shade of dirt which always ended up tucked into the bottom of your nails when you were a kid. Like the look of old flimsy potions textbooks you’d use for various tutoring sessions with the red headed girl. The eyes looked like Megans. A little too like Megans.

You snap back to reality as your little paws take you sprinting towards the shrieking shack like the others did before you. Now convinced they must be animagi like you, it leaves only one explanation to who they were. The Kats.

Once inside the small structure, you transform back into your human form before slamming the door behind you, you’re faced with the rest of the Kats, except Megan. Oh, you knew this was going to be bad.

The five girls look at you in worry and shock as you stand there, pondering your next steps. In a panic you begin ranting, “wait wait wait, so you’re all animagi?—” Your eyes darting around the room, adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream. “—god is that why you abandoned your prefect patrol duty? And choose this shift every time?—” You question Sophia, pacing around the room as the puzzle pieces line up. “—goodness gracious… And Megan’s a werewolf? That’s why none of you would tell me where she was all of yesterday—” You point to Daniela, almost accusatory “—a werewolf!? On campus! At school! What the hell is this!? God, Dumbledore probably knows. So this is approved?"

You panic as the Kats try to get you to calm down. You couldn’t bear to continue thinking about the matter, quickly blurting out, “Sophia, I’m ditching patrol." With that, you swiftly turn around, opening the creaking wooden door and sprinting back inside the Hogwarts building. Hoping and praying that the werewolf didn’t catch you before you got inside. Once you did, your mind blanked as you wandered through the halls, back into your solo prefect dorm inside the Slytherin common room. The mattress is soft as your back hits the pristine sheets, your thoughts begin spinning after your recent revelation. You were beginning to regret wanting to know what the ginger girl was doing, skipping classes. You knew you had the perfect chance to ruin the group's lives, something the rest of the Snakes would die to know and spread, but somehow the thought of telling the tale of tonight felt like a knife being twisted into your heart. A glint inside those sweet brown eyes remind you of the old growth forests you’d play in as a child behind your families mansion, or the forbidden sweetness of brown sugar you’d sprinkle into your tea, it made an imprint into your soul. It made you want to keep those eyes as a sight only you could see. Your little secret.

Just for her.

Just this once.

The Kats were fully panicking inside the shack, accusations and fear spreading through the group as their usually fool proof plan was torn apart.

“So… what the hell was that?” Lara exclaims, “first, she could have been killed, second the secret is out… Big time. She’s a snake for fucks sake! Maybe the best out of the bunch but STILL. A. SNAKE!”

“Soph, didn’t you say she was under control?” Daniela fumes.

“I never thought she’d run over here!” The oldest said, freaking out.

“She’s going to tell the whole entire school!”

“No she wouldn't, would she?”

“She’s a back stabbing snake!”

“She’s capable of being nice?”

“Maybe she’ll feel bad,” the youngest mutters, continuing “she has a heart you know? She might just feel bad and drop it, this once."

“Yoonchae’s right,” Manon sighs, her doe-like eyes locking with the youngest in agreement, “but she still knows, it’s still out there. She can hold it against us."

“But the real question, how did she not die?” Lara questions.

“I don’t know."

“Didn’t see a thing."

“I was too busy being panicked, don't look at me!"

The group groaned at the lack of answers they could come up with. The discussion moved in circles until the moon went back down, causing the sun to begin peaking up at the morning sky. A small knock was then heard on the shack door as it creaked open to reveal a tired and bruised Megan, “what the heck was last night? Don’t tell me she saw…”

The group looked around, no one wanting to break the unfortunate news. Daniela pushes Sophia forward, causing her to trip on a lifted floorboard, sending her stumbling right in front of Megan, somehow still doing so in a way filled with pure unfiltered elegance. She looks around to the group, muttering “So… she might’ve been here last night and she um…”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Megan frowns, her emotions running at an all time high and the bad news frankly wasn’t helping, “she’s never going to fall in love with me like this,” tears leaking from the corner of her eyes.

“Megan…” Lara whispered to the sobbing girl, her voice filled with concern, “you know that’s not the biggest issue right?”

“What else? She tells everyone AND rejects me!?”

The Kats look to each other in shock at Megan’s lack of care for her condition being revealed, though most of them can piece together that due to the night's events her brain likely hasn’t processed the problem yet. “Megan, let’s just get you to the nurse,” Lara sighs as everyone tries to figure out how to go about this utter disaster.

The new week had just begun and the school was surprisingly quiet. No rumored werewolf sightings, no exposes on the group, and no sign of any events of that dreaded night. The radio silence from you was beginning to freak the Kats out. They expected utter chaos, not whatever this was. Were you going to suddenly tell the school in front of everyone? Save the information as blackmail? Decide to turn good and drop the subject? The anticipation was starting to gnaw away at Megan, and it clearly showed. She had already been beaten down by the events of the full moon but the secrecy surrounding your actions seemed to be even more agonizing, like the act of rubbing salt onto her already fresh wound, not to mention she was practically in love with you. Her head was hung low as she pushed her food around on her plate aimlessly, waiting for you to snap and address the elephant in the room, or in this case, the great hall.

You sat in the Great hall, at your usual table, in your usual spot, talking to your usual people but definitely not thinking about your usual weekend. What you saw that night seemed to haunt your mind, not like your friend's lack of awareness helped at all. Your eyes continuously flutter to the redhead sitting at the Gryffindor table, as your friends talk on and on about your patrol shift, speculating and gushing.

“Still can’t believe you volunteered to do the night shift outside with the Sophia Laforteza,” Hyunjin laughs, “seriously, thanks for taking one for the team."

“You what!?” Wonyoung whisper yells, shocked by your outlandish act.

“It’s fine, didn’t even have to talk to the girl all night, she did the back and I did the front of the school lawn,” you lie with a straight face as you stirred your cup of tea.

Wonyoung seemed to let out a sigh at the thought, “jeez, I thought you went soft for those freaks of nature or something."

Ningning chuckles elbowing Wonyoung to grab her attention as she teases, “nah, I’m sure y/n here just wanted to see what was the hype with the shift. Heard Sophia always took the night shift outside cuz she’s a werewolf or something, or one of her friends are. Guess if you saw nothing that wasn’t the case?”

You laugh at the thought, perfectly manufactured lies flowing from your tongue like it was second nature, “went to the back to check it out and make sure she wasn’t doing something crazy. All she did was walk in circles for the whole time, boring."

“Darn, I kinda wished that rumor was true. It would be so funny if one of them was, it’d make such a good joke,” Soobin smiles, taking a bite from a hashbrown as Sakura just nods along to the joke.

So funny you think to yourself, so funny indeed. Other than the fact of course, it wasn’t just a rumour. You still couldn’t believe that you were actually planning on keeping this secret, but hell, the things you’d do for the Gryffinfor girl.

Suddenly you say to your group, “I don’t feel like tutoring Megan this week."

Wonyoung squeals, “already had enough of that half breed? Eeek! Dream come true for me, go and tell her you’re out for the week. Come back to the bright side!”

Though you couldn't find yourself to agree with a single word the girl said, you still smiled and nodded along, “Wonnie, what if I go tell them now?”

The girl freezes before her eyes light up in sparkles, “go go go!” The group soons follows along with their encouragement as you stand up and walk towards the red and gold covered table.

The Kats sensing the commotion turn their heads to your steps as you walk over. The air around them is filled with fear, terror convulsing in their blood. Megan felt the blood from her face drain even more, seeming paler than she already was from the weekend's events. The group prepares for the worst, wincing when you open your mouth, only to be hit with, “Megan, I’m busy this week. Can’t do the sessions."

Megan looks at you in shock, opening her eyes again trying to confirm if this was real life and she wasn’t dreaming, “serious?”

“Of course,” you say, looking at her confused.

“I mean, oh okay!” Megan chirps, struggling to hide her excitement from your willingness to keep her secret without her even asking, completely unbothered by how desperately she needed your help this week in potions class in order to stay afloat.

You push down the smile forming at the corner of your lips, you know Megan noticed it but chose not to say. That was enough for you. You spined around on your heels, quickly trotting back to your seat, the rest of the Snakes gushing at the fact you were finally free from the clutches of the big bad Kats. If only they knew how wrong they would be.

The gods were finally rolling the dice and calling the shots.

And you were probably planning to see those Gryffindors more… Not like the Snakes needed to know.

Oh, and for Megan?

This might just be the best day of her life.

Other than the fact she felt like she needed to throw up again. To Madam Pomfrey back she went as her friends lectured her about taking care of herself, and lucky enough for you, you sat back down in your chair just in time to notice it.

Next target location, the hospital wing.

You had been writing love notes all afternoon. Colorful sticky notes thrown around your desk, unsatisfactory messages crumpled into your garbage can. It needed to be perfect. Finally you settle on one simple sentence:

“Get better soon, heard this was your favorite and reminded you of home <33”

You stuck the note on the lid of a small pastel peach food container you scoured all morning for, ransacking your room, taking out every item from each cabinet in an attempt to locate the small container, an act your mother would surely disapprove of. You know Megan probably wouldn’t even notice how you made sure the container was in her favorite color, or how you purposely wrote the message to be vague so she could tell her friends without getting the both of you in trouble. You know no matter how she asks you about the topic you’ll just say it was a coincidence. One the gods bet all their earnings on.

You attempt to lightly reorganize your room in case anyone comes in during the time you’re gone, dusting your uniform for any fluff that was swept up from all the commotion. The container is tucked into the bottom of your bag as you leave the dark eerie common room. The sounds of your steps echo in the halls as you make your way to the kitchen, going down the Hufflepuff staircase, bumping into various students passing by who all seemed to cower in your presence, though some braver ones mutter a small hello, which you return. Finally, you spot the painting of a fruit bowl, with a tickle of a pear it transforms into a handle, slipping through the frame. You can’t help but smile as the sweet smell of baked goods waft through the warm air. Candles flickering as elves work tirelessly.

“Nitwit?” you call, waiting for a certain house elf to appear.

Quickly the creature appears, running towards you with a grin, “Mistress l/n, what can I do to be of service today?”

The corners of your lips perk up at his excitement, “I was wondering if the rice and chicken I prepped earlier today is still here? I’d like to finish plating the dish right now."

The elf beams at your words, “of course Mistress l/n, come with me." You follow the short statured being, entering the back of the bustling kitchen filled with the sounds of pots and pans clanking together as house elves run around carrying today’s lunch, attempting to place it on the huge wooden tables before students arrive above. You stop at the rice cooker placed in the corner of the room, sitting beside it, pots of simmering sauces you prepared this morning. You pull out the pastel peach container, open the lid and scoop the steaming rice into its compartment. Then you carefully place the pieces of chicken beside the rice and pour the various sauces into small cups inside the box, finally closing the lid. You nod to Nitwit as he insists on cleaning up the mess himself, with a chuckle you relent to his pleads and bid goodbye to the chaotic kitchen.

The container finds itself at the bottom of your bag once again, hidden from the view of bystanders as your feet take you to the hospital wing. Hoping and praying Madam Pomfrey didn’t kick you out like all the other usual visitors, perhaps all your shifts in order to train as a healer have been working in your favor? Your eyes squint at the blinding white lights once you enter the room, clearly not a fan of the bright tones in the usually dim school grounds. “Madam Pomfrey?” you ask into the empty wing before a greying lady appears.

“Oh my dear y/n! Came to help out at the hospital wing again? I’m so glad, you’d make a fabulous healer one day,” the witch gushes as you awkwardly nod to her words, attempting to inform her of the actual reason you were here.

“I mean I’d love to help out but actually I wanted to um… check in on someone,” you interrupt the ladies spiel, who snaps to attention.

“Oh I supposed it must be important then?”

“Indeed, has a certain Megan Skiendiel been admitted?” you whisper to the lady as her eyes harden, “what’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re up to any funny business-”

You wince as you accidentally cut her off again, “brought her lunch… I- I wanted to check up on her and give her my potions notes you know? Tutor stuff…” your voice dying out as you try and make the visit seem casual. Casual enough for you and her to be just acquaintances, but important enough the nurse wouldn’t rush you away like she does with most other visitors. With one look, you already knew she wasn’t fooled.

The older witches lips purse together in thought, lips quirking up as if she was piecing together a puzzle, with a nudge she speaks, “I supposed since you’ve always been such a great help, I’ll tell you where she is. Don’t stay for long, she needs the rest. She’ll also need to take her pain meds, since you’re here to see her I suppose you can help her out with that?” her eyes signaling a less than optional request, causing you to nod frantically at her words. She points to a curtain in the back, behind the work station she usually never lets you go past during your shifts. “Back there, go, I’ll find you when it’s medicine time."

You nod with a grateful smile, slipping behind the curtains in search of the Gryffindor girl. As you turn the corner, a hospital bed appears into view. Laying on top is the red headed girl, dozing off as she stared at the boring med wing ceiling.

“Meg?” you whisper into the air as if your presence was a sin.

The girl seems to suddenly brighten upon hearing your voice, “shut up, what are you doing here? It’s lunch time!”

“I noticed you weren’t feeling well… So, I mean, like obviously I brought you some lunch… In case you didn’t eat or something? Also like, I know um, Hogwarts lunch usually isn’t the best when recovering or to cure homesickness, you know?” you chuckle awkwardly, glancing up at her face to see if she’s nodding in agreement. “Hainan chicken rice… I remember you said it reminded you of home…” your voice drifts off as you pull out the warm container from the bottom of your bag and place it on the small table attached to the bland hospital bed. Megan’s eyes seem to gloss over at your action, you frantically rush out an apology, “sorry, shoot maybe this wasn’t the best place for this? I tried cooking it, it’s probably not good-”

Megan cuts off your rushed words. “No! I’m just really emotional… no one has ever done this for me before…” your eyes soften at her words, “I needed it."

You let out a breath, scratching the back of your neck, “thank god, I thought you were going to cry and hate me or something…."

Megan's laughter rings in the small med wing, like music to your ears, “how could I?”

You can’t help but let out a dumb smile. The two of you sit in silence as Megan digs into the dish you made, mumbling about how it tasted just like home. The muffled words make your heart warm with an unfamiliar feeling. Your mind wanders as your eyes trace down the girl's figure. Bruises everywhere, a claw mark over her shoulder, bandages wrapped around her arms, legs, torso. Not an inch of her skin untouched by the events just a night before. You bite down your urge to ask about what you saw. It wasn’t your place.

Megan seems to notice your deepened thoughts as her throat forces out a whisper, “I guess you know?”

Your body seems to freeze at her words, unable to say anything in response.

“Do you hate me?” the words hang in the air like an unspoken promise.

I could never, your heart yearns but all that leaves your mouth is empty air.

Megan nods, head hung low. The dish suddenly no longer looked as appetizing as it did before. Never have you seen the usually hyper girl so quiet, but you just couldn’t seem to muster up the words to make everything feel better.

“I… brought you notes?” the words hang from your lips as if anything you say could break the fragile girl. “You didn’t miss much in class,” you say, placing the stack of notes on the bedside table.

The silence lingers.

You open your mouth in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation but before you could, Madam Pomfrey slips through the white curtains, “my dear, portion the medicine for her won’t you? I have students outside."

“I-” but before you could decline the task the nurse was gone again like the wind, leaving you to face the girl alone. You feel your teeth instinctively bite down on your lips, just hard enough you feel it might bleed.

“The foods gonna go cold-”

“I’m not hungry” Megan shoots back.

“But you just you were-”

“I said I’m not."

You wet your lips with your tongue in a swift flick before biting down on them once again, attempting to save the situation before you manage to somehow worsen it again. You’ve never cared about people coming and going before, usually friends were only meant to strengthen family relations, so why did it hurt so much seeing the girl pull away? Almost like your heart urged you to fix it…

You know you shouldn’t.

Friends aren’t like this.

For once instead of biting down on your tongue, you bite down on your pride instead, “Megan I could never hate you…” you pause, trying to see if your words enlist a response from the girl.

“Why should I believe yo-”

“God knows I try…” the words slip from your lips like second nature, like it was always meant to be reserved for her.

Megan can’t help but feel her world brighten.

“God knows I try to hate you, but we both know I can’t seem to ever find it in me,” the words speed from your mouth, your voice cracking at the confession. You quickly turn your attention to the medicine at hand, attempting to ignore your words.

The injured girl smiles, practically glowing at your words, “so I’m specia-”

“Take your medicine,” you mutter, not wanting to hear her remind you of your slip up. With a shove, you hand the cup full of whatever liquid Madam Pomfrey prepared, towards the girl, almost spilling it onto the white cotton sheets.

Megan obliges and downs the cup in one gulp, “yuck, it takes horribl-”

“Go back to eating your food now that you’re done being mad,” you motion waving your hand at the girl annoyingly, but Megan doesn’t mind, instead continuing to eat her food with a smile, like everything was back to normal. Better than normal. “Gimme back my container during our next session, just because the full moo- I mean just cause you’re sick it doesn’t mean you can fall behind. Review the notes,” you mutter standing up and dusting your uniform, a force of habit. Then, you leave the hospital wing as fast as you came. Megan barely had any time to register your departure before the loud group of her friends pranced in.

“We brought lunch~!” Lara said in a singsong voice, skipping in while holding a tray filled to the brim full of food.

“Yo! Who took our thunder!?” Daniela exclaims, pointing to the pastel peach container as if it was prime evidence in the crime of the century.

Megan blushes at the words before Manon points out, “Hainan Chicken rice too, who is this? How do they know you so well? Where did they even get it? The kitchen doesn’t make this stuff."

“Secret admirer?”

“Someone’s in love~”

The group speaks over each other as they gush over the scene.

“God, who's the lucky boy? Girl? Person? Being? Thing? Object?” Daniela rants, cutting off everyone else's train of thought with her peculiar question.

“Okay… Calm yourself Dani, no one’s stealing your thunder, and if they did, I don’t think they’re a table okay?” Sophia said, elbowing the girl trying to get her to shut up.

“Ow-” Daniela whines clutching her side like she was deathly wounded.

“Megan’s the one in the hospital bed, get off your high horse,” Yoonchae said unprompted.

“OHHHHH!”

“BURN!”

“SHUT UP!?” Daniela exclaims, flailing her arms around as if it’d remove the comment from everyone else's minds.

“She’s the youngest Dani, be nice,” Sophia scolds.

“Whatever,” Daniela huffs, sitting down on a random stool.

Suddenly Lara points out the small message on the sticky note. “Guys, this is so cute!” she squeals, picking up the pastel pink note and passing it around, “Look!” Everyone coos at the message while Megan buries her head in a random pillow out of embarrassment, her words being muffled by the object, “no one guys, it’s no one.”

“Okay, so no one cares enough to COOK you your comfort dish, deliver it to you in a container that's YOUR favorite color and ends up writing YOU a cute note. Uh huh, self obsessed I guess, doing it yourself,” Lara said, nodding along to her own words, unfooled by Megan's, “just pointing out the obvious, what can I say?”

“Wait… Potions notes too…” Manon says, the implication registering in her mind.

“Shut up.”

“There is no way.”

“Y/n would never!”

“Don’t be in denial!”

“Just stating the obvious!”

The room lights up in noise as everyone begins to argue over the cute gesture, talking over one another before Megan's voice cuts through the noise, “okay! Whatever, the question should be who's eating all of that?” she attempts to change the topic as she points to the tower of food Lara brought in on a tray. The room suddenly turns to silence as the group looks at each other in question.

“Don’t look at me.”

“I’m not finishing all that.”

“Try the trash?”

“Jesus, wasteful!”

“What else!?”

Megan chuckles as her friends panic over what to do with the huge amounts of leftovers instead. Feeling her heart warm, knowing who actually did all the sweet gestures, like her attempts to get near the unbreakable girl wasn’t a full on lost cause after all. Maybe she could slither her way into the snake's heart if she tried hard enough. It wasn’t like you weren’t letting her, your actions today proved you might just have a soft spot for her she can exploit… And she doesn’t think you mind her doing so… In fact, you might encourage it.

The days go by without a hitch. Megan’s potions grades keep rising, no one mentions the night of the full moon and all your friends seemed to have dropped the absurdity of you spending time with the Gryffindors. As the weekend nears, the Kats are busy pulling together a party to celebrate before O.W.L. season gets serious.

“Okay who are we inviting?” Sophia stresses as her quill runs through the lists of non-Gryffindor participants.

“Obviously Felix,” Yoonchae said, looking at the group for approval.

“Try Lia too,” Lara smiles, playfully hitting Sophia’s arm. Attempting to urge her to speed up the invite process.

“What about Yunjin and Kazuha?” Manon poses as the group nods in agreement, mentally scolding themselves for almost forgetting.

Daniela points to the list, “make sure to add Rei,” Sophia nods at the reminder.

Suddenly, Megan innocently chirps in, “we should invite y/n.”

“Y/N!?” Daniela asks as if Megan just posed a cardinal sin, practically slamming her hand on the table, sending pens falling from the wooden structure onto the floor, “out of all people Y/n? NO. SNAKES. ALLOWED!”

“Jesus, Dani, calm yourself” Sophia said, resting a hand on Daniela’s arm, urging the younger girl to lower her volume.

“I mean, how bad could it be? She’s been super nice so far,” Lara shrugs.

“Fine! But my gut tells me it’ll end in disaster. I can feel it!” Daniela huffs as she sits down crossing her arms.

Megan feels something gnaw at her stomach, as if telling her it wasn’t the brightest idea either but she ignores it, frankly what could possibly go wrong?

“Your guts been wrong plenty of times,” Yoonchae reminds the hot headed girl, only to be met with a pillow thrown her way. The Kats laugh, Sophia adding your name to the list against Dani’s warnings.

It wasn’t long until the letter invites had been made, Sophia spending all of her time neatly folding the papers to perfection as if the chaotic party would be a well mannered ball. Then off they went with respective members, bringing them to the invitees.

Megan has been uncharacteristically quiet all day. You know you shouldn’t have noticed that but how could you not take note of every little thing she did? How her jokes all seemed to dwindle out at the end, how her smile seemed to fall the second she thought people stopped looking her way, how her fingers picked at her skin until it bled. Your heart ached. You know it shouldn’t. Yet, you couldn’t help it when your knees almost buckled when she called your name.

“Y/n?” Megan calls, her voice full of hope. Her hands intertwine with each other, tapping a beat to calm her anxious soul, lips between her teeth trying to not show her fear of rejection.

You couldn’t help it when a smile made its way onto your face. You could never help it anyways. “Yea? What’s the matter?”

Her head dips as she digs her hands through her bag, pulling out a little letter. The corners bent and worn, parts of the envelope pilling from her excessive rubbing, giving away to you how long she’s been rehearsing the words in her head. “The Kats are hosting a party… I was just wondering if you’d come?” The world seems to freeze at her words, your heart taking flight at the action. Your legs beg you to run from the invitation but you can’t help but stay. Just another sentence and then I’ll go, but they seemed to run on forever, and your heart loved every second of it. “You don’t have to come, you know? I’d get it. No pressure, but all of the Kats did want you to come! Okay maybe not Daniela but you know how she is? She’s just like that. Don’t worry. I promise she likes you… Probably… Actually I’m not sure, but just putting it out there-”

“I’ll come, don’t worry,” you soften at her rambling, mentally cursing yourself for letting her carve out a little spot in your heart just for her. Reserved for her.

Megan’s jaw goes slack, “serious? Oh my god you’re serious! I promise it’ll be good, thank you thank you!” She jumps up and down in excitement like a little kid, handing the letter to you with a happy jump in her step. “Tonight, 9pm, Gryffindor common room, there’ll be alcohol!” her words echo in your brain as she steps further away from your shared classroom table, leaving nothing but the lingering smell of her vanilla sweet perfume in her wake. Vanilla… sweet and innocent, just like her. She didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in your world.

Once you snapped back to reality, still dazed at her gesture. With the small envelope in one hand, and your school bag in the other, your legs took you sprinting out of the classroom like second nature. There was only one person who could possibly reason with you right now. How you desperately hope the library isn’t crowded today.

You rush down the hallway, running into the library and crashing into the seat right across from the pink haired girl. “Sakura-” you puff, trying to catch your breath. The girl just looks up from her book with a confused expression, blinking at you like you were possessed by a ghost. You snatch the book from her hands, leaving it on the table faced down while putting the invitation in its place. “Megan… Gave… Wait- Gave it to me,” you say, face grimacing at the burning sensation tingling throughout your body. Your lungs were begging for air and your throat stung from the physical exertion. You mentally noted to yourself that you should really start working out again.

“Megan? Gryffindor loser Megan? Your potions tutee Megan? Ginger Megan?” Sakura asked as if it was the most outrageous thing she’s heard all year, or practically her entire life.

“Yes!” you exclaim practically jumping out of your seat, quickly inching back after catching the librarians glare. You clear your throat before continuing, “I mean yea…” your voice coming out as a whisper, like you finally remembered you were in public.

“Dang, you’re going soft,” Sakura mumbles while her hands peel open the letter. Your leg bounces as she reads the note, “today at 9pm, you have been invited to the Gryffindor common room for a pre O.W.L. party. The password is quidditch… and quit bouncing your leg. You’ve never done that before and it’s annoying, stop." Your leg tenses as she points out the jitter, your face lighting up in flames from her observation. “So what’s the problem? Just go since your clearly into her-”

“No I’m not!” your jaw hangs as you notice your lie. “Okay… I might have the smallest crush on her but it’ll go away,” you explain more to yourself then her.

“That’s what I told you and look at me now hm?” Sakura says bitterly, as if every word coming out of her mouth had personally attacked her before. “Just go, they’re Gryffindors, they hate our asses. If she cared enough to invite you it’s probably reciprocated. Just go be your usual self and she’ll probably trip over her own feet and kiss you, who knows.

“But-” you go to say while Sakura just rolls her eyes, “no but’s, you’re going. Let’s go to your room and get you ready. It’s in a few hours. You’ll live,” you pout but follow behind her, secretly grateful for her understanding, the tension in your body loosening a little. The pit at the bottom of your stomach remained.

You’ve probably been standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady for at least a few minutes now. Listening to the women scoff at various party goers before letting them in. Your heels clicking against each other, your clothes suddenly feeling too tight on your skin. What if it was all a joke? Megan couldn’t be so cruel right? The Fat Lady felt so bad she didn’t even mutter a word at your action, or lack of it, that was probably a first for anyone in the history of the school. You purse your lips, grouping together an ounce of courage. Your mouth opens, silence responds, you wet your lips, smacking them together in an attempt to push down the beating of your heart, banging itself on the cage of your ribs, desperate to run free,"...quidditch."

“Took you long enough, guess you do speak,” the Fat Lady mutters, opening the door for you. You couldn’t even be bothered to take her remark to heart.

Your feet take you through the hallway behind the portrait, stepping down to the common room. A bubble seemed to form around you, the people sober enough to realize a Slytherin just entered slowly back away from you, giving you weird looks, while the ones already drunk enough crash into you like title waves. You freeze as you realize the party has long begun. Yea, you hadn’t prepared for what to do now.

Suddenly, a tap was felt on your shoulders. “Lara?” you spin around, attempting to hide how flustered you were by the lack of people you knew. This was not the type of party you were used to.

“Y/n! I’m glad you actually came!” the girl buzzed, handing you a cup of something. Your eyes lowered to the glass, suspicious of what was inside. “Don’t worry, just Firewhisky. Not drugged,” Lara laughs, attempting to ease your worries, “Megan’s over by the bar. Go say hi." With a push, you landed yourself at a little makeshift bar, stools on one side, a tall wooden table, bottles of alcohol you couldn’t name on the other. Then, Megan. She wore a pastel peach corset top with a jean skirt on the bottom. Muggle clothes, but god it hugged her figure perfectly. Her eyes locked onto yours as you found yourself sitting on a bar stool, shamelessly checking her out as if it was the most reasonable thing to be doing. Especially in your current situation. Your eyes widen, instinctively straightening your back and clearing your throat, “hey…”

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Megan beams, “glad you did! It wouldn’t have been the same without you."

Wouldn’t have been the same… “What? Am I special now?” you tease, trying to hide the nerves wreaking havoc on your mind. Your lashes flutter but your eyes remain on the Gryffindor girl.

“To me you are”

“Good, me too,” your words follow.

You shouldn’t have said that.

In an effort to hide your panic, you take a swing of the clear cup of liquid Lara handed you earlier. Shit, the sting hitting the back of your throat, it’s not water, you should’ve remembered that.

Megan giggles at your words, “so… hope the Fat Lady didn’t give you a hard time? Slytherins never come here usually."

Give you a hard time, more like you giving her a hard time with how long you stood out there, but you couldn’t say that, could you? “No she didn’t. She was pretty chill,” you take another swing trying to fill in the silence.

Shouldn’t have done that either.

You could already feel the alcohol kick in. Your mind fogging and your cheeks flushing.

You had always been a champagne girl.

You were never made for whiskey.

Let alone firewhiskey.

Maybe that was where it all went wrong.

Megan smiles at your joke again. You don’t remember what you said. Her hand grazes over yours as you hand her your cup. Did you even ask for a refill? She bites her nail out of habit. Your heart flutters. She said you’re easy to love. You felt alive.

“I think I love you,” the words drop from your tongue. You don’t even register the comment until you notice the way she froze, eyes wide, jaw slack. That was your first mistake of the night.

Your second mistake was stepping back into the crowd. Letting it swallow you whole.

Your mind blanking as you feel a pair of lips smash into yours. Too soft to be Megan's, hers was always chapped on the edges from how much she loves to talk. You still imagined it was hers. That was your third mistake.

Or maybe your third was letting Megan see it all go down. Everything went from perfectly in control to an absolute disaster. Your eyes catching hers while someone else's lips were on yours. Her mesmerizing hazelnut orbs shining with unshed tears. She slipped away from the bar. You tried looking for her in the crowd. All you saw was Lara staring right at you, a flicker of ginger red hair up the steps of revolving stairs and the lips previously on yours vanishing from your view.

Now you’re sure you’re the worst person on earth.

Megan was sure this night was a cruel joke, Lara was sure you didn’t mean to and Daniela was this close to committing a crime. The party suddenly seemed less fun than planned as the trio sat in Megan’s dorm, the ginger girl crying like her world just fell apart. To her it practically just did.

“W-why would she do this?” the girl sobbed into her pillow, lying face down on her bed, her voice cracking, “she literally just said she l-loved me and immediately went to k-kiss another girl? I mean what the hell!?” Her body trembling from her sobs, hiccups shaking her to her core.

“I don’t think she was in the right headspace Meg, she seemed so… out of it?” Lara said, her eyes dropping down to the floor, “I shouldn’t have given her the Firewhiskey."

“What? She can’t hold her liqueur?” Daniela scoffs, practically fuming at the situation.

“Did it look like she could? I was hoping it’d give her some liquid courage but… I suppose… You know?” Lara chuckles awkwardly.

“Gave her a little too much,” Daniela grumbles, “never doubting my gut again.”

Megan suddenly snaps up from her position, staring at the two while wiping her tears with her sleeve, “Lar… Are you saying that she might have meant what she said?”

Lara shrugs, “I guess so? But she still-”

Megan suddenly seemed to snap back into her usual self, practically jumping up and down on her bed, “THE Y/N MIGHT JUST LOVE ME BACK! THANK YOU SO MUCH LARA! I LOVE YOU TO BIT-”

“Oh stop it Megan, are you just gonna ignore the fact she kissed a girl-”

“Daniela!! She might LOVE me! I’m in heaven!” a derpy smile appeared on Megan’s lips.

“Might, Megan! Might!” Daniela practically face palms at how head over heels Megan is over the snake.

“God I can die happy!” the giddy girl exclaims.

“Okay please don’t,” Lara and Daniela say at the same time, wincing at Megan’s mood swing. They knew she was trying to make the best out of the situation but what if you truly didn’t mean what you said to the bubbly girl? What if you really didn’t care? Is a drunk man's words really a sober man's thoughts or merely just the alcohol talking?

“Okay fine. I’ll just ask her to be friends still?” Megan poses, coming down from her high, a touch of sorrow still hiding behind her sparkling orbs.

Even Daniela didn’t have the heart to break it to the poor girl, eyes still puffy from her earlier meltdown, “yea… I guess you could."

“The party is still on right? Could you guys please do me a favor?” Megan bats her eyelashes, her puppy dog eyes making the other two fold at her words.

“Fine… What?” Lara looks at the heartbroken girl, unable to deny her request.

“Tell her to find me at the Astronomy tower tomorrow night? After curfew?” her voice almost sounded scared, like she was asking for the moon and the stars.

“Yea yea…” Daniela mutters, waving her off, “probably find one of her friends to pick her up too before she goes and does a bunch of other things she’ll regret."

Megan gives the duo a grateful smile before throwing her face into the pillows again, attempting to hide her heartbreak.

The two venture back into the Gryffindor Common room, attempting to locate the drunken girl. Soon they spot you leaning against the wall, dazed and clearly drunk out of your mind, talking with a Gryffindor girl they barely know. Daniela practically storms over, dragging you by your wrist out of the room and back into the quiet Hogwarts hallways. Lara follows closely behind, pushing through the crowd of people in order to not lose sight of the two of you.

Once the pair have brought you to the Hogwarts hallways, Daniela rushes Lara away to attempt to find one of your friends, before turning back to you.

Your words slur, your smile droopy, “did I do- Did I do something really really dumb, Daniela?”

Even Daniela couldn’t muster up the energy to get mad at you for breaking her friend's heart. Not like this.

“I did do something really dumb, didn’t I? I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight but how can anyone say no to Megan?” Daniela sighs at your words as you continue, “you should have rejected the idea of inviting me… You should have told her to stop… I- I actually really like her.” Laughter projects from your throat, you laugh at yourself, your own stupidity for thinking you had a shot and wouldn’t mess it up.

“Then why did you do this?” Daniela mutters, your words somehow even melting her heart, making her almost want to root for you to get everything together.

“This is all I’m good for Daniela… Haven’t you noticed?”

No I haven’t, the latina wants to say but she chokes the words down her throat like a bitter pill. This wasn’t her place, this mess is for Megan and you to figure out. All she could do was hope.

Soon Lara is heard sprinting down the hall with a pink haired girl beside her. Sakura, Daniela had seen her around before.

“Jesus, is y/n okay?” Sakura moves you onto her shoulders, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. “She never drinks, how did she even get drunk?”

Lara and Daniela look at each other awkwardly, having a mini staring contest to see who would break the news. Obviously Lara loses, her mouth opens, hesitant to speak, “I might have given her Firewhiskey… I didn’t know…”

“It’s fine, I’ll bring her back to the dorms. Anything else?” the pink haired girl looking between the two Gryffindors who seem to cower in her presence.

“Um… Megan wants to y/n to meet her at the astronomy tower after curfew tomorrow night,” Daniela says briskly, the words tumbling from her mouth.

Sakura nods, slowly dragging you back to your room. The atmosphere is tense. No one knew what was coming, but everyone had a feeling it wouldn’t be anything good.

You don’t know how you got back from the party. All you knew was that you were lying on your bed and Sakura was staring at you as if you just let your whole bloodline down. Okay, maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth.

The bright rays of light which peaks through the curtains make your eyes squint. “God,” you mutter, pushing yourself up with one hand as the other flies to your pounding head, “did I get a concussion or something? The room is like spinning."

“No dumbass, you got black out drunk,” Sakura mutters unimpressed, handing you a glass of water. Her words were unusually sharp, cutting through your daze while her actions were characteristically soft, how you’ve always known her. “What did you do last night?”

“I don’t know!” You immediately go to defend, “I was at the bar… got a drink from Lara… started panic drinking when I was talking with Megan… and I told her I love her… Wait, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” you say as last night's memories start flooding back. “Holy shit, I told her I love her.”

“Okay and?” Sakura asks as if it was the most normal thing to be saying on any given night. “That can’t be so bad if you meant it? Lara and Daniela brought you to me, they seemed way more panicked then for something like this. Don’t tell me you did more things you’d regret.”

Your eyes widen, head flying up to meet the Japanese girls, “then I got kissed by a random girl…”

Sakura practically face palms at your words, “are you serious right now? God, you’re hopeless."

“I didn’t mean to! It all happened so fast okay? I was- I was- Honestly I don’t know what I was doing. I just know I’m never touching Firewhiskey again!” you exclaim, eyes tracing your ceiling as you fall back onto your bed. “On a scale of 1-10 how screwed am I?” your eyebrows furrow in stress.

“100.”

A pout makes its way onto your lips, “I said 1-10!”

Sakura’s voice remains monotone like she was answering the most obvious thing in the world, “10.”

“You’re no help…”

“She did say she wanted to meet you after curfew at the astronomy tower today. Probably to talk about whatever hole you dug yourself into last night-”

“Why didn’t you start with that, Kkura! What am I even gonna do?”

At this point the girl almost seemed annoyed at your panic, “just be yourself or something, if she didn’t care she wouldn’t be wanting to talk to you. I expected you to be much better at this with how often you diffuse situations with our parents. Calm down."

“Yea… Yea, totally…” you mutter under your breath with a nod, trying to calm your racing heart, “I’ll be fine… I’m so calm right now, definitely so calm”

You hid in the shadows of the Hogwarts hallways, rehearsing the different ways you could confess your fondness for the girl without the help of liquid courage this time around. Under the dim moonlight, you navigate up the stairs of the astronomy tower while your hand fiddles with your green and silver scarf. “Has anyone told you how much you mean to me? It feels like you’re it, you’re the one,” you repeat the words like a prayer, like they’d save you from eternal damnation. There is no place in your world for acts like this, but you’d practice until your lips bleed as long as it meant a chance with her. But still, the words felt foreign on your tongue.

Your breath hitches upon seeing Megan sitting on the ledge of the tower, feet dangling, kicking back and forth in thought.

“Hey…” you say, voice softer than ever before as you find yourself sitting down beside her. She stiffens at your gesture, you feel your heart crack.

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” Megan asks, staring off into the night sky.

“I don’t know. Trauma?” you laugh as if your nails weren’t digging into your palms so hard you were drawing blood. “Probably trauma,” your chest burns, “I learned early enough to never trust the good things.” Somehow one question from the girl caused your walls to come crashing down like they were never even there in the first place.

“Am I a good thing?” Megan attempts to joke, but her tone falls flat at the end. It didn’t feel like one.

Somehow all the words you rehearsed up the steps suddenly vanished from your mind, your mouth opening and closing like a malfunctioning robot, “yea… a really good thing." Megan feels her breath hitch. She couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, you couldn’t either. “You know… I’ve been thinking about you… about this… I think I…” the air stills. The word love, hanging in the space between each letter. Staring back at you on the back of your eyelids every time you blink. Sending pins and needles into your heart like a million arrows from cupid himself, small, frequent, deadly. Megan finally turns her head to look at you, into the windows of your soul, filled with unspoken apologies that you couldn’t bear to mutter out loud. So you settle. “I know you’re important to me, I don’t want to lose you… I can’t lose you, Megan,” you muster up a smile, nothing could ever encapsulate the love you have for the girl, but it was close enough. Close enough that maybe Megan would understand.

A silent understanding looms over the two of you. Megan looks at you with hearts in her eyes, tears shimmering at the rim, so full of understanding it hurt. It hurt her, it hurt you, but neither of you could stop. She looked at you like she was scared of the way you said her name, scared of the way you talked about her like she put stars in your sky. Instead she bites down on her own confession, her mouth filling with a metallic taste. She chooses to wait, she doesn’t want to fall not knowing if you’ll actually be brave enough to catch her. “So friends?” she poses, like it was the easiest thing to say. You knew it wasn’t. It was breaking her. You could tell.

She made loving you feel easy, like it was the easiest thing in the world, as simple as the need to breathe. Yet it was so hard for you to do the same. You want to backtrack, say you want more. You couldn’t. “Yea, friends,” you nod along.

Friends… The title burns in both your mouths every time it’s uttered into the cold air. It felt like a fire starting on your tongue, but neither of you knew how to stop it. Never have you hated the word like this before.

You knew she deserved better. You knew she deserved someone who would run to her in the hallways, show her off to their friends, talk about her like she was the only thing that mattered. That could never be you… But you wished. The thoughts slip into words, maybe a desperate attempt in your mind to persuade her to give up. “Seriously Meg… I’m not what you deserve” She could have anyone. She shouldn’t settle like this. You don’t want her to.

“Maybe not. But you’re all I want,” Megan nods, her heart yearning to hold you, to tell you she didn’t need anything in return. She just needed you, the real you. She couldn’t force the words out either, so she too, settled, “I’ll wait… I’ll wait for you."

Under the stars, where the shadows hid her away, your pinky lifts to hook her sleeve. An attempt at telling her all the words hidden behind the walls of your heart. An effort to show how you wanted to apologize for everything that went down, for making her wait, for letting that word burn so sweetly on both your tongues. As always, you settled on the motion instead… and again, Megan lets you, even though the action makes her heart crack into a million pieces. Every. Single. Time.

You look into the sky again, trying to distract your mind. The moon was half full. A week until the full moon, you thought. You weren’t supposed to know, but you could feel how Megan was thinking the same.

The ginger’s lips pressed together, her eyes returning to her feet. She never seemed to hide from the monsters you were always seen running from, “I’m not expecting you to keep this a secret forever but please don’t tell anyone I’m a-”

“Werewolf. I know. I haven’t told a soul. You mean too much for me to do that,” you mean the words this time and Megan knows it too. A light pink flush appears on your cheeks while your lips quirk up.

Megan smiles back, and for the first time this night she means it. Her little whisker dimples flexing under the glow of the semi circle hanging in the sky, eyes glistening with hope instead of tears.

Then, you ran from the truth. It was all you knew how to do whenever you were with her. “It’s late Meg, you need to sleep,” the words mumbled under your breath, so quiet it was almost like you were scared that if you spoke too loud you’d break her.

Megan shivers, her legs curling into her figure. You can’t tell if it was because of the cold or your words. Instinctively you unwrap the scarf around your neck, wrapping it around hers instead, “keep it… It’s still cold out."

“Thanks,” Megan mumbles while you go to stand. The habit of dusting your uniform ingrained in your brain from your mother, but before you could, a hand lifted up to do it for you. You practically stood there in shock as Megan’s hands brushed against your school skirt, picking at the small puffs of fuzz littered around the fabric. “There, you’re good to go."

Your stomach flutters at the gesture, a smile grazing your lips before you turn. The butterflies erupt in your stomach, your organs flipping onto themselves. Just friends you reminded yourself.

Just friends.

But for the first time ever, you felt special.

Megan made you special.

And that was all you needed.

Potions class returned to normal, or as normal it could be with your friend arrangement. You both went back to playing footsies under the table, grabbing ingredients for each other, whispering to each other what should be covered during the next tutoring session.

“Meg? Here’s your notes from last class,” you say, handing her a stack of papers.

The redhead takes the papers from your hand in a swift swoop before sticking a small sticky note on you in exchange. “Thank you! There’s my notes,” the girl beams.

You can’t help the laugh that sneaks past your lips as you carefully remove the sticky note from your uniform. “Review?” you read out from the paper, “sure, potions room?”

Megan nods, unable to disguise her excitement from enlisting a smile from you as mere joy from getting an actually good grade. The two of you returned to the classroom as Megan ran through the new potion taught in class. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A small pout hooking onto her lips as she struggled with counting the amount of times she had stirred the mixture in the cauldron. Your heart swelled at her improved abilities. Grateful to the fact you didn’t have to consistently keep an eye on her anymore in order for the mixture to not blow up in her face. Maybe, you knew deep down it was something more. You couldn’t help that your focus was on the girl instead of the potion you were supposed to be helping her with. Your gaze wandered over her figure, stopping every time you looked over her mouth. Her lips glistened under the soft lights of the classroom, the sight making your heart leap out of the cage you keep it tightly locked in, pulling the organ back every time before you do something stupid. This time, you doze off a little. Your lips instinctively part as you lean forward towards the girl, like you were trying to memorize the view. Megan’s eyes flash up at the action, locking onto yours. Quickly, you return your eyes to the potion, muttering something about its color in an attempt to hide the blush rushing to your cheeks, to disguise the slip up as you simply taking your role seriously. Instead of calling you out on your action, Megan looks to you for approval. Your head moves up and down with a smile, “nice, you’ve improved lots."

The girl couldn’t help but grin at your words. Her heart swelled, maybe from pride or pure unfiltered joy at not having the potion blow up in her face. You didn’t want to know. With a creak, the classroom door opened, revealing the greying potions professor. He wandered towards the shared workstation, hands behind his back, eyes narrowing like he was judging her work, “nice job, Ms Skiendiel. Same for you, Ms l/n. I’m seeing genuine improvement here, the potion is stunning, consumer level even."

Megan seemed to soar over the moon at the words of approval, practically jumping up and down like an excited puppy. The man continues, “you can head back now. Ms l/n and I will clean up here, I wanted to talk with her about something."

Immediately, Megan’s excitement seemed to drop. Her smile remained but it seemed forced, the genuine joy in her eyes wiped away like it was never there in the first place, “oh… I’ll head back then I guess."

As the door creaked open and closed again, the atmosphere of the room dimmed, like a wave of tension washed over the place. The professor gradually turned around and sat down at his desk, leaning forward in his seat, “you said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

Suddenly, it felt like the room was closing up on you, the air sat still between each breath, the world seemed to be waiting to see who cracks first. Your lips part to speak but no sounds come out, with a flick of your tongue you lick your lips, swallowing the spit collecting in your mouth. “I believe you’re aware of Megan's… condition?” the last word hanging in the air like a trigger line, to something big, something that should have stayed stuck in your throat instead.

The man nods, his face unreadable. Perhaps solemn, or maybe indifferent to the topic like he had seen something like this many times, yet still special. You continue, “the full moon is in a week and I… I was wanting to make the Wolfsbane potion for her. Just wanted to confirm if I could use this room and some ingredients that are available?”

The silence was deafening. At last, he spoke up with a spark in his eye, “don’t even worry, you’re my star student.” The words hung in the air like a statement, not even objective. “Use whatever. Though… I must warn you that you might have to acquire some ingredients yourself, I’m sure you’ve already thought that through, haven’t you?”

A mutual understanding flows through the room as he stands with a nod. “Do what you have to do,” the words flow from his mouth and dangle in the room as he leaves. It��s hard to tell if the words were well wishes or a taunt, you didn’t want to know.

You quickly get to work, digging through your bag for the ingredients you either begged your mother for, bought yourself at Hogsmeade or snuck into the forbidden forest to find. You lifted each out of your bag like they were as delicate as glass, setting them down on the table while you prepped your cauldron. With a turn you walked in front of the ingredient cabinet pulling out wooden drawers filled to the brim with vials one by one. As you found the drawers you were searching for, your feet took you back to your work station, getting to work.

Flipping open your notebook, you glide the pad of your fingers over the pieces of paper binded together before finally settling on the page with the recipe. Your finger searches the page for the instructions. Soon you begin throwing meticulously counted leaves of the wolfsbane plant into the cauldron. Popping open two vials, you pour in the juice of two mandrake leaves. Going between your notebook and the cauldron, your forehead furrows, focusing on not messing up the potion. Placing the cork of a bottle to the side, you insert a dropper into a crimson liquid, lifting the glass to your line of sight. One… two… three… you count in your head, letting the bloody liquid fall into the mixture. In the blink of a second, your hand flies to the heat settings, adjusting the fire to the perfect intensity. Then with a sigh, you wipe the sweat on your forehead, your hand reaching for the mortar and pestle. All this for a girl you think, as you grind the moonstone into powder form like it was second nature. You hit the side of the mortar against the cauldron, the multicolored powder falling into the thick liquid. The mixture bubbles, your heart hangs in the air for a moment, afraid of a loud bang.

It never comes.

You let out a breath of relief, following the instructions and stirring the mixture three times clockwise. You quickly fall into a rhythm, Two drops of the syrup of Hellebore fall in the cauldron, quickly followed by three murlap tentacles. A light hum emits from your throat, the activity taking your mind off the difficulties you’ll have getting the goblet of the substance to the girl in the first place. You switch the fire to a medium temperature, adding the juice of seven Sopophorous Beans individually, watching the potion shift colors into a lilac hue.

As you continue the recipe, the reason Megan was never seen taking the potion dawned on you. An awful lot of energy and money put into something like this, you wondered who could even afford to be making it in the first place. The irony wasn’t lost on you as you switched the temperature of the stove again. You could afford to, you suppose, but you were no werewolf.

You crush an Occamy egg and slowly sprinkle it in, not daring to entertain your thoughts anymore in fear of possibly messing up the potion. Pulling out your wand, you wave it once at the cauldron, stir six times anticlockwise, then wave it once again. The air is filled with the smell of smoke, igniting a light cough from your throat at its intensity. When you finally open your eyes, the potion is emitting sapphire blue fog into the room. The view mystifies you, pulling you into a trance at its beauty. You shake your head, resisting the distraction, instead, you find yourself searching the room for a goblet. Quickly, you rip a sticky note from its stack and scribble on some instructions. In a wave of bravery you draw a small heart at the end. As soon as you did so, you already regretted it. Finally, you pour the mixture into the cup and cover its opening with the sticky note in an attempt to hide the recognizable blue smoke.

You stuff the vials back into your bag and put the drawers back into their respective spaces in the classroom. With the goblet in one hand and your bag in the other, you sprint out from the room, almost forgetting to shut the door, leading you to shuffle back, careful not to spill the potion before sprinting to the painting of the Fat lady.

You dig through your memory for the new password Megan told you about just a few hours ago. “Butterbeer?” you say, practically asking the annoyed lady in the portrait.

The Fat Lady looks up at you unimpressed, again. “Just go in at this point,” she waves you off. You step into the common room as the Fat Lady mutters under her breath, the words almost escaping you, “never thought I’d ever see a slytherin and gryffindor together. Kids nowadays." Your heart tumbles at the words, forcing you to catch the smile that was making its way onto your lips and pushing it down.

You sneak into the girls hallway, filled with identical doors on both sides, only recognizable by the small decorations pasted on each wooden panel. Your eyes gloss over each wooden door, searching for a certain girl's name. Megan Skiendiel & Lara Raj, the words written onto the small board, little stars and hearts drawn beside the names. You push open the door, to your surprise Lara was the only one inside, sitting on her bed.

“Y/n?” the Quidditch player asks.

“Oh- Hi. Um… I made the wolfsbane potion for Megan today… Since you know it’s the full moon in 7 days—” Your awkwardly chuckle bouncing in the room “—tell her to drink it even though it tastes horrible and also adding sugar will render it useless. If she drinks it all 7 days she’ll stay conscious during her transformation. Should be easier for you all too…” Lara stares at you in shock, “I’ll bring the next one tomorrow?” The words continue to fall as you set the goblet on Megan's bedside table, right next to all her game character figurines. You spot the scarf, your scarf, on her bed. You pretend you didn’t.

Lara nods slowly. You attempt to make your escape while she’s comprehending your gesture, only to be stopped right as you reach for the door, “thank you. Seriously."

You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes, “just don’t say it was me… please?”

The girl nods slowly, seemingly deep in thought at your request.

You push the door open, grateful that it doesn’t creak. Slipping past a few other students as you make your way down the stairs, hiding your green and silver tie. You finally step back into the Hogwarts hallway, your mouth automatically muttering a thank you to the fat lady for letting you in.

You continue this routine for the rest of the week.

You knew you shouldn’t.

But this is what friends do right?

It was the night of the full moon again, and once again you stood with Sophia in the grassy Hogwarts fields. The chill in the air seemed to penetrate into your bones. It ached. Everything did.

“Are you gonna take the back where the shack is again?” the question lingers in the air. It was almost rhetorical. The only trace of the words being said are the puffs of cloud like smoke left in the night sky. You don’t need to wait for the Gryffindor prefect's answer, your feet are already taking you to the other side of the school yard. It wasn’t your place to ask anymore questions. You knew it wasn’t.

Once Sophia was out of sight, you dropped onto the grass field. The wind doesn’t smooth your aching heart, it makes it worse. It makes you regret getting yourself involved in all of this in the first place.

Curiosity killed the cat.

But death seemed to sound a lot better than what you were planning.

Your ears perk up at the sounds of a girl giggling. It had to be from one of the Kats.

Slipping behind the trunk of a tree, you watch as Sophia meets up with 4 other girls walking her way. All small talk it seems, as they continue back into the school.

Lara catches your eye, she doesn’t say anything, continuing behind the rest of the girls. You don’t mind, you’re sure she knows anyway. Probably better than you do.

You attempt to remember what your animagus form looks like again. Solid black fur appearing in place of your skin, your face elongating into a pointed snout, a bushy tail with a snow white tip appearing behind you. Your paw pads hitting against the muddy ground, skittering towards the withering shack. Shifting on your paws to avoid the whooping willows attacks, you slide under its roots into the small wooden building.

Inside you’re met with a wolf-like creature. A wolf with the same brown eyes that could melt your heart into pieces.

You’re sure you just fell in love again.

A flicker of recognition washes over those eyes, as if recognizing who you are. The wolf's head lifts even though its tired figure fights against it. You curl up against its body, your head burying into its thick fur coat. You feel her relax at your action, the proximity sending your stomach into spirals.

You want to crush the butterflies fluttering in your chest. Grind them down into ashes until you forgot they were even there in the first place. But you didn’t even know where to start. So instead you let yourself indulge in the feeling.

You’d regret this in the morning anyways.

Instead you let sleep consume your tired figure, feeling the wolf lean in closer towards you, it’s snout nudging your head softly.

You felt safe in the monster's arms.

Monster.

The word already lost its meaning.

You weren’t supposed to fall asleep. Yet when you woke up, the sun was already knocking on the cracked windows of the room. Beside you lay the ginger girl, chest rising up and down in waves like the lacy rolls of sea foam in the ocean tide. Her beauty seemed to encapsulate you, looking ethereal under the sun's soft rays, so faint it was like the sun was afraid of disturbing her peace. She seemed so peaceful, it made you want to stay. With a brush of your hand, you tucked a few stray pieces of hair behind the girl's ear. A few more fell out from behind. You repeated the action until there was none left.

If you were anyone else, your mother would be proud of something like this. Someone like this.

But you weren’t.

So you left as soon as you came. Already overstaying your own welcome. A ghost in your own heart.

When Megan wakes up, the rough floorboard beside her is already cold. The chill seeping into her bones. The sun’s gentle, but still blinding. The feeling of soft fur still lingers on her skin like an itch needing to be scratched. Her heart mourns the loss of something, someone. She doesn’t dare to dwell on the emptiness in her heart for too long, she already knew there was a person-shaped hole dug into the side of her chest. Anyone could tell. She slowly pushes herself up, arms almost buckling under her weight. Her head pounded like she was hung over. She takes a sip from the glass of water right beside her, it wasn’t there last night. She knew better than to wonder who it was.

The morning was slow, as usual her friends bounced in, one after another into the rundown shack, throwing questions at her like mother hens scolding their chicks. Then they aid her to the medical wing and Madam Pomfrey takes care of the rest.

That’s what usually happens.

Except the universe had been having a little too much fun playing with her heart, maybe yours too.

As her friends act as her crutches, bringing her into the hospital wing, the first person they lock eyes with is you.

“I- what!?” Daniela said, her voice rising at least 5 octaves, “what the hell do you do here!?”

Your eyes dart around the room, landing on each one of them before responding, “I help out here? I’m literally training to be a healer?” All the words coming from your mouth somehow seem to twist into a question. You visibly cringe at your own tone.

“Okay whatever, where’s Madam Pomfrey?” Sophia asks, her concern growing more visible by the moment.

A laugh erupts from your mouth, “her? She said something about getting new medicine from the potions classroom and for some weird reason she was like, no I’m gonna go today, you stay. Like out of character much?” your eyes gloss over the group, finally stopping at Megan. “Let’s get you in the back, Meg." The girl nods gratefully while her friends all stare at each other in shock at the nickname. You weren’t supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to be a snake. Everyone other than Lara had their jaw visibly drop at your words, the roommate instead, chose to help you bring Megan past the cotton curtains and into the back of the wing, setting her onto a hospital bed.

The rest of the girls followed closely behind. You attempt to reassure the group, “don’t worry, she’s in good hands. Madam Pomfrey and I will take care of her, you five should-”

“Y/N! What are you doing talking with the stupid Kats?” Wonyoung storms into the back of the med wing with no regard for the rules, as the rest of the Snakes follow behind. Hyunjin with one hand on his hips and the other on his forehead, visibly shaking his head over the girl's temper tantrum. Sakura sulking in the back of the group, trying to disappear into a crack in the floor, while Soobin and Ningning were attempting to hold the girl back from a full on fight to no avail, too scared to even lay a hand on Wonyoung.

“Goodness gracious, this is the med wing, lower your tone,” you spit out with a little too much venom in your voice to someone who's supposed to be your best friend. You weren’t in the mood for another fight with the paranoid girl.

“What? You're gonna be a blood traitor too now huh?” Wonyoung visibly fumes while the rest of the group audibly flinches at the words, even Hyunjin’s eyes widening. They knew how serious an accusation like this could be, “god I fucking knew-”

The Kats were waiting for you to throw them under the bus as werewolves and unregistered animagi in order to get the girl off of your back. Even Megan somehow gained enough energy to open her eyes and watch the showdown. Instead, your perfectly curated lie shocks the Kats to their core. “Jang Wonyoung,” your tone underlying a warning, something in your eye flickers dangerously, “I needed to move shit from the storage room down the hall to here and these Gryffindors were nice enough to offer to help as weird as it is. And I’m not saying no to 12 extra hands when I need to move like 50 boxes. Megan blacked out half way with a fever so I placed her here. Before you run your mouth about why she’s in the back, it’s because Madam Pomfrey is out and wants less commotion in the front."

“Oh,” that’s all that could be heard from the previously angry girl, her rage seeming to dim like it was never there previously, “sorry…”

You audibly scoff, the Kat’s watch as your friends all tense at your breath, “you should be, now I’ll see you in the common room. Unlike you I have a job to do and I don’t want to lose med wing privileges."

“Yea… that um that makes sense,” Wonyoung quickly spins around speed walking out of the area. The rest of the Snakes offer small words of apology to the Kats and grin at you, happy someone could finally lower the girls temper. They soon run off behind her, leaving you alone with the six Gryffindors instead.

The Kat’s are shocked at why you defended them. “Why… why would you do that?” Manon asks.

“Don’t get used to it,” you practically snap back, still angry from the previous interaction. Your tone contrasts your behaviour, softly grazing Megan’s wrist to check her pulse like you were afraid of touching her in the first place. “You should be good to go, the wolfsbane potion helped, didn't it?”

Megan notices your slip up, she also knows you well enough to not mention it. “Yea, I really should thank whoever made those for me, and if they don’t mind it they should continue,” her words are soft like a balm to your heart.

“Well, if I ever run into them I’ll relay that message,” you smile back. The two of you had always been good at reading between the lines.

Daniela itches to inquire about what the hell was going on but Lara just shuts her up with an elbow to the ribs every time instead. “That’s our queue to leave!” Lara smiles wrangling the rest of the Kats out of the hospital wing.

God, she was the perfect wingman. Megan was the perfect girl. Yet, you were everything but perfect.

Still, none of that mattered in Megan's eyes. “You didn’t have to do all that for me,” she whispers, so soft like she knew she was grazing against a nasty bruise.

You just continued digging through the side cabinet, looking for something, “but I did, and I don’t regret it. Anything for you Meg… That’s what friends do."

“Are you guys not friends?” Megan asked.

“…I guess we are,” you say, your eyes glancing up into the thin air, pulling out a small bar of chocolate from the drawer, handing it to the girl.

The tension in the room remains unaddressed. Both of you, too scared of what might come out of it. “I think Madam Pomfrey’s back,” you mutter hearing her classic steps echoing on the marble floor.

Megan nods. You stand, and you walk away. That’s how it always goes.

You don’t notice how Megan’s heart aches, or how her eyes brim with tears.

The word friends tasted bitter in her mouth.

It burned.

It burned her straight to her core.

She couldn’t ignore it anymore.

You finally got yourself out of lawn patrols a few days later, convincing Hyunjin to switch because you managed to get Wonyoung to stop being a pain in the ass. You wander the empty halls of the school, wondering what’s the point of patrols. No one that was ever out would be caught anyways. The stairs to the astronomy tower pull at you as you walk by, you try to ignore it. Then you hear the sound of sobs. Maybe you would be catching someone out past curfew tonight, you think to yourself

You make your way up the steps, lantern out in front to see where you’re going. The soft light illuminates the narrow hallway while the sound of your steps echo, reminding you of those acoustic churches you were brought to every holiday season by your parents. The cries get closer, you peek your head out. A figure sits at the ledge of the tower. Just like how Megan would sit.

You couldn’t be any less bothered, they still broke the rules. “Go back to your dorm, 10 points from…” the words faded as fast as they came. Megan watches as your stern glare softens upon noticing her distinct copper colored hair. You always prided yourself on your composure, but all of it left the second you spotted the redheaded girl at the tower again.

It was Megan.

You weren’t imagining it.

You sit down right beside her. You know you weren’t supposed to, but you’d break a million rules for the girl.

“I’ll go,” Megan sighs, her fingers tugging at her sleeves, trying to hide her puffy eyes as she wipes away stray tears. Her knees tucked into her figure as they pushed her up.

“Wait… stay… please,” you said softly with a crack in your voice. It was as if the moon was bringing out a different side of you. One you pushed down until it bubbled up and overflowed whenever you were with the redhead.

Megan doesn’t know why, but she stays. Feet going back to dangling from the tower's balcony. Her face is tilted down, hidden from your view, but the sniffles were enough to tell you what she was doing.

The sound cracked your heart into a million pieces.

Something only Megan could do.

“What’s the matter?” you can’t help but ask the girl, you already knew the answer.

Megan turns towards you. Her lips trembling with held back emotions as her voice cracks, pushing the words out, “what are we then? I know friends don’t do the things you do for me. What am I to you?”

Your mouth dries down, throat clogging. Your eyes burn, the sensation haunting your memories. You snap your head away from the girl, eyes glowing under the night sky, begging for an answer. Your hands fly up to your face involuntarily, wiping the corners of your eyes. All quick, all attempts at casualness, like you were brushing off a speck of dust, or a flyaway eyelash rather than the proof of your aching heart. “I… I don’t know. You matter to me more than anyone else, more than I thought anyone could,” your lips slip, saying the words your heart had been repeating every night. The words your head attempted to convince you, you were crazy for, “I… probably love you, you know? I know I’ve been in love with you for like… forever.”

A stupid grin snaps onto Megan’s face, face lighting up like you just muttered the key to her heart, “and I think you’re crazy to think I was ever not completely and utterly in love with you.”

You flinch at her words, physically recoiling like she just delivered a slap to your face. The action makes Megan's soul clench, the pain coursing through her body like a drug.

You stay there, waiting for the catch… It never comes.

So you deliver it instead, you weren’t meant for good things like this.

“I don’t do relationships,” slowly you shuffle away from the girl, hands crossing in front of your chest in a last minute desperate attempt to protect yourself.

Megan’s smile slips into something smaller, her hands tugging nervously at the end of her sleeves. “Then what is this?” the words weighed heavily in the air like an anchor.

“I… I don’t know. But I know I don’t want to leave,” the words are carried through the air from your mouth.

“So we’re a thing,” Megan said, reading between the spaces in your words.

She’s gotten good at it now.

You don’t answer, at least not with words. This time you just brush your thumb over her knuckles in pure silence. It wasn’t suffocating, just right. The two of you quietly existing in the same space like it’s the most sacred thing in the world.

There were no sparks, just waves of warmth washing over your frozen frames. You felt alive, like you just woke up from a thousand year slumber.

Woken up by her. Even the cold wind flowing through the balcony couldn’t hurt you.

Your scarf draped over her shoulders like it was meant to be, frayed at the edges, imperfect, but still yours.

Megan’s now.

Your head turned to stare at the girl, a small smile on her lips, looking at the moon in awe.

It didn’t scare her anymore, as long as she was by your side.

And you? Maybe you could finally allow yourself to love the girl, even if it was just in the darkness of the astronomy tower.

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