enchantinglyjade

[enchantinglyjade]

𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶

Prologue

Masterlist Previous | Next (Coming Soon) Notes: I wrote this story literally the month Baldur's Gate III first came out and never shared it out of nervousness, but here I am two years later, so I hope y'all like it! Warnings: swearing, brief and vague mentions of SA right off the bat, but fairly vanilla for the rest

-

My lungs burn with contractions. The pebbles, sharper than I’ve ever felt them, impale through the soles of my feet, leaving a throbbing wetness behind with every step I take, but I never still my legs from continuing forward.

I trusted him. All of those sweet lies I believed and now all I can feel is the ghost of his hands over my body. Though, I suppose in another world I should thank him. He presented me with a door. A door to get the fuck out of Baldur’s Gate and never return.

I can’t take another night of Eula’s pointless arguments, not another night of being locked away like a broom in a closet, waiting for the moment it’s useful enough to sweep away someone else’s mess. I’m not a child anymore, I see right through her. I know of her demand to control, but not of why. I’m not staying around long enough to discover it either.

I don’t need Zinnor anymore, not when I’m free now. He proved his usefulness to me when it was called for, but more importantly, he proved that he is just like all of the other city pigs when I needed to wake up the most. I’ve learned all that I can from this city, it’s time I make my own now. Maybe- maybe I’ll even return home, if there’s anything left of it. Wherever I’m to go, nothing can be worse than this.

My hand clutches the amulet around my neck, my feet never ceasing as I run through the dark alleyways. It’s time I discover who I am, what these powers mean, my true family. I will finally be free.

But then, there’s the gate.

Black Dragon Gate. It stands high, closed, and heavily guarded. The final obstacle to the rest of my life.

Typically, I’m expected ‘home’ by now. Has Eula begun searching for me? Did she track us back to his home? Has she found what I left behind of him? I swear I can feel her stalking me in the shadows. She’s always right behind me, feeding off of the suspense, like she’s waiting for just the right opportunity to strike. My heart beats in fear. My lungs can’t possibly expand any further in my corset, leaving me already exhausted even though I still have a long ways to go. She’s going to find me. She’s going to bring me back to that filthy hell hole and lock me there until my carcass rots into the stone floors.

I can’t breathe. Why is this corset so fucking tight?! Calm yourself, Eirla. This is nothing you haven’t done before, there’s just a lot more hanging on the balance. But don’t think about that part. I will not go back there, but I may not have the choice if I don’t quickly find a way to sneak past The Watch and into Blackgate.

My head peeks around the corner of the bricked building again, risking my safety for a chance to examine the surroundings. To my surprise, the guards are distracted. This is the perfect moment to get past, but it doesn’t solve the issue of the closed gate.

Like a gods damned miracle, I hear the whinny of a horse on the other side, the wheels of a carriage coming to a rocky stop. An importer. Oh, this is perfect. The bars of the dense gate creak and moan as they are lifted to make way for the carriage of goods. It’s now or never.

The shadows of the night do well to conceal me as I run on tipped toes towards the exit, ignoring the ever growing sting of gravel against the tight skin of my feet. I have to use a small opening between the wall and a guard to sneak behind in order to avoid his gaze. Even after years of training, it’s beyond me how I manage such situations with little problem.

I sneak past the guards, keeping my back against the stone wall, but then my breath catches in my throat when I hear that familiar creak and moan once more. My eyes avert straight above me, a multiple ton gate is about to come down directly onto my head. I have little choice but to dive out of the way, rolling through the sandy gravel as I feel the ground shake from the pointed iron bars as they slide snugly into their pockets in the ground.

I shake with anxiety as the guards on this side take an immediate notice of me and the commotion that I’ve just caused. Not a part of the plan.

“Get the hells out of here, you slum rat.” A woman cladded in heavy armor picks me up by the sleeve, only to send me tumbling back down as she throws me further away from the gate. I catch myself with a wince, landing right onto my elbow. “Go back to the corner you came from. Better not have slipped something off the cart either.”

Slowly, I stand, exposing my empty hands to her to prove I’ve taken nothing. Then, I make my body cower before her in a mask of fear and shame, but internally my heart reels in its success. “My apologies, Ma’am.” She thinks I’m attempting to sneak in, not out.

I turn away, hearing her scoff in disgust from behind me. “Damned refugee’s trying to sneak into the Upper City like we won’t catch them. Honestly, I’m sick of it. Wish the Duke would just set this damned town ablaze already, I didn’t take this job so I could be a mouse trap all day.”

As my back’s turned to her, I can’t stop a smile from raising on my cheeks. I did it. I finally fucking did it. No more living in the sewers. No more seducing just for a bite off of someone else’s plate. I get to make my own life. But now I’m confronted with the next, debatably bigger issue at hand. Where to now? And where would Eula never look? Would she come looking?

I keep my mouth shut and my eyes avert forward as I walk through Blackgate. I haven’t seen this town since Eula and I passed through after Waterdeep, so many years ago that had been and I’m in no rush to relive such memories. Even at night the streets are alive as ever, traders and beggars on every corner, all with the simple notion that they will one day make it into the city. Likely, will not. 

I walk slowly, contemplating my options. It’d be a stretch, but I could try to make it to Candlekeep, may even only take me a tenday if I find the right people. I’ve heard lots about their wizards and scholars, maybe they would have answers.

But as I ponder, a scream suddenly fills the air. The swoosh of a large body casts overhead. My feet make quick work to dodge under a canopy, immediately assuming the rare occurrence of a dragon judging by the noise, but as I look up I notice a ship. It looks as though made of raw flesh, husks, and antennae. It’s disgusting. I’ve never seen anything like it. Then it dawns on me. I haven’t read many books or seen many drawings of such a thing, assuming it wasn’t much of a threat, but now that it’s in front of me I know exactly what it is: Mindflayers.

My heart pounds harder than it did when I thought Eula was on my tail, I’m half convinced she found a way to send them after me. I hear another scream to my right. A man comes running in my direction, but then suddenly he turns to dust. I gasp in shock, cowering against the wall as another dust cloud appears to my left.

I want to close my eyes and pray to every god there is that I won’t be spotted, but I don’t dare keep my eyes off the chaos set before me. Then, I see the inevitable. A large gray appendage slithers its way back down onto the street inches from my feet, like it’s searching for me, like it senses me. Then it turns.

I have not even half a second to process my pure terror before it snaps towards me like a giant serpent and all turns black.

I was free to make my own life.

Be careful what you wish for, I suppose.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝔄 𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪

A Memories of Destiny Prequel

Notes: This short story is completely optional to read. This is to give insight on Eirla’s background and family, but all of the content below is explained throughout Memories of Destiny. If you like to discover a character’s secrets as you go/alongside the character then I recommend skipping this short story and going straight into the prologue, but if you want everything laid out for you before reading, then go ahead and continue forward.

-

This tale begins many years ago, triggered by the doings of Lord Shadow, also named Telamont Tanthul, a Netherese archwizard and ruler. Telamont was an experimental student, learning under the wing of the esteemed archwizard and momentary God, Karsus. He dedicated himself to interplanar study, particularly drawn to the Plane of Shadow. He was considered taboo during his time, even for his fellow Netherese, and was exiled from Netheril.

 Luckily, Karsus was kind enough to offer him a sanctuary to continue his studies. For his generosity, Telamont started on a gift that he would offer to Karsus once his efforts to travel to the Shadowfell proved successful. Telamont would create an amulet to store strands of the Shadow Weave, something he had already learned to manipulate on his own, but decided he wanted to gift to Karsus should he ever find use of it.

However, during the amulet’s development, Telamont would misplace the item while experimenting with demiplane travel and the amulet would be lost for centuries.

After escaping an assassination attempt, Telamont would then transport the Netherese enclave of Thultanthar to the Plane of Shadow just mere days before Karsus would cast his devastating spell and send Netheril to its ruin. Through Telamont’s doing, he had unintentionally saved his people from extinction, but only a handful. He then became the High Prince of Thultanthar and would assist in preserving the last of Netheril, preparing for when he would return to Faerûn and resurrect the fallen empire.

Until then, life in the Shadow Plane was dark and intense. The people who inhabited this remaining enclave came to be known as the Shadovar, growing into the shadows of the plane and able to resist the effects of the shadow curse. Some of which even transformed into Shades, a ruthless shadow known to have given up its soul for power and immortality.

Just before the change, Thultanthar housed a handful of elf slaves from Cormanthyr, who also grew adept to the shadows like their human peers. The Raevel family was amongst these enslaved elves. Over time, they would eventually gain their independence, but would live within the lowest social class of the enclave and were unusually inept with magic unlike their Netherese counterparts. That is until late 1300 DR, the Raevel family produced a daughter, Aladara Raevel, who showed much promise and dedicated her youth to arcane study and worship to Shar, in hope to master the Shadow Weave and rise above her born social class. Her studies would prove her well, rising as a powerful arcanist and gaining her the title ‘The White Shadow Mage’ due to her bright white Elven hair. She would even earn the attention of the High Prince himself.

Telamont would gather Aladara within a group of eager arcanists and send them out on missions to prove themselves worthy of being an agent of his. However, as time went on, Telamont’s body would weaken; life as a Shade demanded much from him and the collapse of the Shadow Weave would not make things easier for him. Telamont began to wonder if his gift to Karsus was still intact somewhere on Faerûn, holding any remaining bits of Shadow Weave he could use to his benefit. So, Telamont would send out this enthusiastic group of mages to retrieve the amulet for him with the promise of granting them the transformation to a shade should they return successful.

For a Shadovar, becoming a Shade was the highest appraisal one could receive, only the High Prince’s best were given such an honor. The people of the enclave were led to believe that becoming a Shade should be their utmost goal, and those that succeeded in the transformation were to be feared from the sheer power they had.

Aladara set out with high hopes, determined to prove herself to her ruler, however fights broke out immediately within her company, each mage equally as determined to achieve the same goal. So, Aladara took it upon herself to venture alone. 

During her exploration, Aladara would eventually come across the warm and beautiful Neverwinter, a Northern city she had felt oddly drawn to. She disguised herself and searched the city. After spending a lifetime as a low class citizen in the Shadowfell, Aladara felt taken aback by the city’s rich colors, bright sunshine, culture, and friendliness. Honestly, she was offended by it at first, but slowly she began to fall inspired.

After spending only mere days in the city, she began having second thoughts about returning home and more so about losing her soul to the shade transformation, something she had once aspired to do, but still her work persisted. She continued to hunt through the city, however her unusual looks and sneaky behavior quickly caught the attention of the notorious King.

Now, the King of Neverwinter had a rather unusual background than those before him. Bann Alagondar, while raised within Castle Never and amongst riches and gold, was not the ordinary, spoiled noble you might think. 

While a beautiful city, Neverwinter had endured its fair share of dark nights and unfortunate events. During the first king’s ruling, Nasher Alagondar, the magical disease known as The Wailing Death had knocked the city to its knees, leaving most of the city’s inhabitants dead within a tenday of its first reported case. The disease weakened the city enough to leave it vulnerable for Netherese infiltration where they would attempt to assassinate the King, but they would fortunately end in failure. Hardly ten years after, the city would undergo yet another disease known as the Spellplague, caused by the murder of Mystra. This would also take Nasher's life, leaving his son, Bann, to take the crown.

Bann was never the beloved, outgoing, and affable ruler his father was. Bann hardly looked forward to the day that he would sit on the throne, especially when forced upon him in such a manner, but even so, he took his role very seriously.

After witnessing the many horrors his father faced, Bann decided to rule his people from the shadows. Many hardly even knew what their king looked like. One might have guessed that the king was lazy or careless, but he was far from either. Bann possessed no arcane gifts, but felt that he and his father had failed to protect their people from magic, and that Mystra herself had as well, constantly leaving their people weakened to powerful magical attacks. After watching the weave collapse before his eyes, a plague that nearly wiped his people clean off of Toril, and a group of powerful, ancient beings attempt to assassinate his family, Bann began to look for alternative forms of protection.

Bann had no doubts that the Netherese would one day return to Neverwinter, and he was determined to be prepared this time. He began to study Netherese magic, as well as infamous Shadow Magic. He would even take risky adventures into The Chasm of Neverwinter to study the Plaguechanged Underdark residing just below the city, where he would acquire a spellscar on his leg, but also discover a particular amulet that seemed to be rusting at the bottom of the chasm’s lake. His goal was to find a meaning behind the curse and a way to use it to his advantage instead of fearing it like most.

Bann brought the amulet back to the surface, cautious of it, but finding it ultimately useless or broken. He would notice his spellscar begin to activate and react when near it, but the mark would not grant him any notable powers. Due to this, he secretly worked closely with the Order of the Blue Flame, to research and help those affected by the spellplague. It’s there that one of the members would alert the king of a suspicious new character that had been seen roaming the streets of Neverwinter.

He ordered his guards to find this woman, and when she was brought to the castle, Bann interrogated her. He learned that she was a Shadovar working with a Netherese ruler to find a lost artifact. Normally, Bann had many objections towards the Netherese, but he saw this as an opportunity rather. He decided to make a deal with her that he would help her find what she was looking for, but only if she provided insight on what the Netherese wanted with Faerûn and, once finished, never returned to Neverwinter again.

Unfortunately, Aladara had little to give on her own ruler's plans due to his secretive and deceitful nature, but she reluctantly offered her help regardless. The two began to hesitantly work together, but slowly they grew used to the other’s company. As she helped his research, she began to discover all of the secrets her rulers had hidden from their people and the powers they had kept for themselves, which only helped further her unease towards returning home and grow her trust in Bann instead.

As Bann assisted with her mission, they would eventually discover that he had accidentally found the amulet in The Chasm before she had even come to the city. Aladara finally felt that her mission was over and that she was to return back home to assimilate with her destiny. However, upon examining the amulet, she finds it filled with magic of all sorts. The amulet held its original Shadow Magic, as Telamont designed it to do, but while in The Chasm it had now been plaguechanged, making it even more potent and unpredictable than ever. She quickly decided it as dangerous in her ruler’s hands, so when the time came, she knew she couldn’t return and that she had to hide the amulet from the Netherese instead.

At this point, Bann had grown oddly attached to her and offered her residence in the castle. The two hid the amulet, all while seeking to understand the artifact's uses. Bann was exceptionally intrigued by Aladra's past and her knowledge of the Shadow Weave and would hint at the possibilities both she and the amulet could provide them with should the Netherese ever return. However, these plans would be put to halt for a time being when the two found themselves expecting their first child together.

The birth of Princess Eirlanna Alagondar was a secretive one, as was the King and Queen’s marriage, only a select few of the court members knowing of the families existence at all. But despite living in the shadows, the child was given an enriched youth. Both of her parents pushed the importance of education onto her, leaving her rather intelligent at such a young age. They would also teach her much about history and magic, though Eirlanna could not cast spells herself. Still, this left her with an insatiable curiosity and an adventurous spirit.

However, the kingdom would soon come to face its most catastrophic challenge yet.

The Netherese had done their research on Faerûn and discovered that one of its lost enclaves may reside somewhere in the northern area of the Sword Coast. A group of Shadovar warriors would come knocking on Neverwinter's door, only to find Aladara and her broken promise.

They raided the castle, looking for the amulet, but to no avail. Their leader, Herzgo Alegni, took the throne and locked the King and his daughter in the dungeons, where he would then torture the location of the amulet out of Aladara. 

Aladara was stubborn, not wanting Tanthul to get his hands on such a powerful artifact to help him succeed in rebuilding the empire, so she endured the torture for weeks and weeks before she finally cracked, only for the sake of her family’s safety. As Herzgo took the amulet, Aladara would be freed for a matter of seconds before she felt the castle start to shake and crumble.

The streets littered with ash and fallen bodies as Mount Hotenow began to erupt, filling the alleyways with molten rock like a bustling river. The young girl and her father managed to break free of their dungeon jail, but just before the very last door, a boulder of rubble came crashing towards the ground. The King thrust his daughter towards safety, but at the price of letting himself be crushed by the broken piece of castle.

Horrified, Eirlanna ran to the Throne Room to find her mother. Aladara swung an attack towards Herzgo, causing him to drop the powerful jewelry. After hearing brief stories about the artifact, Eirlanna knew that the item was very important to her mother, so she sprinted to snatch it from the enemies. Herzgo’s attention was immediately brought to the approaching girl. Her small hand reached foward, but just as the tips of her fingers made contact with the amulet’s chain, he raised his sword in the air. She barely missed his deadly swing, but instead his sword stuck against the amulet, smashing it's jewel into pieces.

As the gem cracked, centuries of raw, plaguechanged shadow magic bursted out into the air, causing an energetic explosion that killed anyone close. The magic consumed Eirlanna, painfully changing the very structure of her young DNA. The burst had torn through the backside of her forearm, leaving a deep blue scar that ran the length of her arm and hand. When the magic had cleared and she finally looked up, she found her mother dead beside her, the only living being in a mile radius being Herzgo with his sword still wedged in the gold of the amulet. Completely in a daze from the blast, Herzgo didn’t notice when the girl quickly limped past him, but would run after her before she escaped the city with the artifact.

Just at the outskirts of the city, Eirlanna would find a woman named Eula with silvered skin and pink eyes. She almost reminded Eirlanna of her mother, aside from her dark hair and much more expressive features. The woman protected her from Herzgo, and brought Eirlanna in as her own.

Unbeknownst to the child, Eula had known of Eirlanna's mother quite well. She too was of Thultanthar, but unlike Aladara, Eula was an Archmage and a master of the shadow weave. The High Prince granted her with her biggest wish of becoming a Shade, but as the ritual was taking place, the goddess of magic fell to her death, ripping all of the shadow magic from Eula’s body and leaving her with half a soul. Now a useless wizard, Eula became a thief to survive, searching for any opportunity to get back the best of her magic.

Eula immediately recognized the artifact and attempted to remove the amulet from the child’s neck in her sleep, only to find that the artifact had bound itself to her and all of its magic had been absorbed into her small form. Eula nearly abandoned the child until the young one seeked her comfort after a nightmare. It is then that the Shadovar realized just how much she can shape Eirlanna into exactly what she needed.

The two set out for Waterdeep, where Eula opened a humble potion shop named ‘The Dripping Thorn,’ and where Eirlanna would begin her training. Here, the child would take on the name Eirla Raevel, abandoning her royal birth name in order to keep hidden. However, their time here would be short lived in the City of Spelndors when a local guard spots Eirla stealing, but as he catches her arm he finds himself appalled by the sight of her spellscar. He seeks to banish them, but the two manage to escape just before being quarantined and make their way to Baldur’s Gate.

Due to Eula’s background, she is particularly sensitive to sunlight which made her seek out an effective hideout when arriving in the city, hence her discovery of The Undercellar. This would also help keep Eirla’s spellscar a secret until they discovered what activates it. Eula quickly manipulated a friendship with the owner of the Blushing Mermaid and continued doing this until coming to own the entire Undercellar tavern.

Eirla would continue to steal, but Eula would eventually run into a dilemma. When away from her tavern duties, Eula spent her time tinkering and researching Eirla’s amulet. Hungry for the return of her old shadow magic, she committed herself to discovering a way to take the magic for herself. However, because of her drainage of powers, she would have to seek the help of magical items, not easy and not cheap. She’d hire skilled rogues to search for her, but money ran rapidly short. So, when Eirla was older, her ‘mother’s’ attention shifted to the festhall within the Undercellar.

Eirla began her education on how to use her words and body to seduce until she was ready to become a full courtesan, unknowingly raising the money towards her own demise.

Knowing little else, Eirla grew used to these dynamics, but as years went on, it proved more and more difficult for her to forget about her ties to the throne. Still, she tried her best to forget her past, until one day her scar began to glow. Innately, she casts four small black orbs that danced across her bedroom floor. Naturally, she tells the news to Eula, hoping she would have insight of her own. However, the Shadovar felt threatened by this and felt no choice but to use her tactics to keep Eirla under her control. She convinced the girl that Neverwinter had been permanently destroyed, leaving no one and no throne to go back to. She told her that she alone was the reason her parents had died and that, had she not intervened, she may still have them today.

This discouraged Eirla for a long while, but it did not stop her magical powers from manifesting well beyond her constraint.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕯&𝕯 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Main Masterlist

(M) = Mature

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶 [A Bladur's Gate Story] (M)

Eirla has been through one’s fair share of unusual circumstances, born into them really. She has unique ways of surviving the everyday hustle and bustle of Baldur’s Gate, all while sitting on her most important, life changing secrets. Her profession leads her to not the finest of customers at times, which presents her with a big obstacle, but also a window. She dreads her life; her present, past, and especially her future should she stay in Baldur’s Gate. So, when the opportunity strikes, she escapes, but only to find herself in an even more unfortunate and unlikely situation with even more unlikely of people. Living a sheltered life can make one unprepared, especially in a place like Faerun, and even more so when you’ve been lied to your whole life. Despite her naivety, Eirla plans to use her new freedom to her advantage, but a worm to the head turns out to be the least of her issues when a mad cult threatens to take over the world. Eirla teams with her new found friends to save Faerun, but she finds her past nipping at her heels every step of the way. Can she afford her companions discovering who she really is, or will her secrets eat away at them faster than the tadpoles?

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

Eirlanna Alagondar

[enchantinglyjade]

─── ⋆⋅ °•. ♚ .•° ⋅⋆ ───

𝓔𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓐𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓻

age; 47 Years race; Half Elf home; Baldur's Gate (former; Neverwinter) class; Sorceress - Wild Magic background; Charlatan alignment; Chaotic Neutral

-

Hi, stranger. It's a... pleasure to meet you.

I'm Eirla, the pretty, witty, Half-Elf you must be looking for.

Don't be fooled by my humor and quirks, I love to make one laugh, but I know more than one way to make a permanent residence in your memory.

I live in Baldur's Gate, but I was born all the way over in Neverwinter. A long journey, I know. I take much pride in my birth city, especially after it's destruction, but I'm a survivor and I do my best to honor it's memory.

I'm sure you've noticed by now, but I'm a sorceress. My powers came from my amulet, it was my mother's before she died. It's ancient, dark, and Netherese, all of which meaning limitless things for my magic. Having that said, I have no idea what it actually does, but I will find out. Unfortunately, the only thing I do know about it is it's inability to be controlled, which comes with some rather... humbling experiences at times.

My adoptive mother banned me from using my own magic most of my life, she told me it's dangerous and most days I still believe her. 'Mom' and I didn't get along most days, to say the absolute least, so I ran away.

But about that- you see, I was sheltered most of my life, hidden away and locked up. I've barely left my front door and such inexperience is not preferable in a place like Faerun. I'm not much of a fighter, but I do have a very specific set of skills that may be of value to the right people.

No matter, I am off to start a new life and find my true self... whatever that means. But I must do so quietly. I can't have everyone knowing my secrets, now can I? Not when the mere mention of my family name can alter history as we know it, a history that is best kept in the rubble where I left it.

Sincerely,

Eirla

Read 𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶 here!

[enchantinglyjade]

𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

[A Baldur's Gate Story]

Main Masterlist

𝔇&𝔇 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Eirla has been through one’s fair share of unusual circumstances, born into them really. She has unique ways of surviving the everyday hustle and bustle of Baldur’s Gate, all while sitting on her most important, life changing secrets. Her profession leads her to not the finest of customers at times, which presents her with a big obstacle, but also a window. She dreads her life; her present, past, and especially her future should she stay in Baldur’s Gate. So, when the opportunity strikes, she escapes, but only to find herself in an even more unfortunate and unlikely situation with even more unlikely of people.

Living a sheltered life can make one unprepared, especially in a place like Faerun, and even more so when you’ve been lied to your whole life. Despite her naivety, Eirla plans to use her new freedom to her advantage, but a worm to the head turns out to be the least of her issues when a mad cult threatens to take over the world.

Eirla teams with her new found friends to save Faerun, but she finds her past nipping at her heels every step of the way. Can she afford her companions discovering who she really is, or will her secrets eat away at them faster than the tadpoles?

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW (18+) Violence & Gore

- A Fallen Kingdom - (A Prequel)

Prologue | Ch - 1 (Coming Soon)

Read on A03

Read on Wattpad

-----

Character Introduction - Eirla

[enchantinglyjade]

Rise of the Titans

Chapter Three

Goddess!OC x Loki

Masterlist Previous | Next (Coming Soon) Warnings: mentions of murder

-

Arali knows not how long she has been locked away in the castle room. Days have turned into months, and months turned into years. Eventually, she lost track of time, and accepted her solitude, attempting to busy her mind with daydreams of the past.

She stares out her window, as she does most everyday, longing to be anywhere else. Life went on without her and her family. The clouds still form and the sun still shines, almost as if the war never even happened. The people of Olympia still smile and work, as though their new ruler did not murder her entire family and hold Arali hostage within the walls of the castle.

As Arali looks out into the clouds with anger, she notices a group making their way to the castle entrance. More visitors. But as she looks more closely, she realizes she recognizes these visitors. It is the Asgardians. Her heart begins to beat faster and a prang of hope shoots through her veins. They could help her.

She watches them enter the castle in the distance and waits with a hopeful smile that one of them will come bursting through her door. Frigga will definitely explain to Zeus that Arali is a princess and deserves her freedom, she thinks. So, she waits and waits, but alas no one comes. The sun becomes the moon and Arali feels her hope dissipate and dread loom over her like a heavy, dark veil.

Lifting herself from the window ledge, she walks to sit on her bed instead. She massages her fingers into her arms, her elbow sore from leaning on it for days on end while dreaming of the outside world.

Arali lies looking up to the ceiling, tears stinging her tired eyes, before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning goes similarly to how it does the day before, and the day before that. However, by the time evening comes something different begins to happen.

She notices two familiar voices yelling in the distance, causing her to perk up. Around the corner Thor and Loki run, or chase each other more like, unknowing of their friend above them. As they approach, her eyes light up with the most joy she has felt in a very long time. She yells to them as loud as she can, almost instantly grabbing their attention.

The brothers look up in confusion before their eyes land on her and light up. “Arali! You’re alive! How did you get up there?” Thor asks, his brother’s mouth agape in shock.

She shrugs sadly, “I do not know. They put me in here.”

“Come down.” Loki says confused, as if it were only that easy.

“I can’t.” Tears threaten to come to her eyes just from the very words. She feels an overwhelming amount of hopelessness wash over her as she watches her friends from below. This is the first time she has verbally admitted to herself just how stuck she really is, let alone talked to someone at all.

“Hold on!” The brothers race back around the corner, only to appear minutes later holding a rope. From where? She doesn’t care enough to ask. She holds so much joy, she has no words to explain her gratitude to them. Luckily, Thor’s strength is able to hurl the rope up to the window, and after a few tries her short arms are able to reach in. She spins, looking for a place to tie the end of the rope to. She decides that a large metal sconce by the window will have to do and will hopefully hold her descend.

She holds onto the rope, sitting over the window ledge. Slowly she lifts herself off, pressing her feet to the side of the castle, before carefully making her way down. “Don’t look up my dress!” She calls out.

“Sorry!” Thor replies, causing her to roll her eyes.

Loki watches anxiously as she makes her descent, making sure she never loses her footing, before she finally reaches the ground. Arali jumps down from the rope and turns with sigh, before excitedly pulling the two into an embrace. “I have missed you both!” The three stay in that embrace for a moment longer than usual, each equally as fearful to let go, but, alas they do.

“We have missed you as well, but why are you locked in the castle? What happened to your mother and Cronus?” Thor questions.

Arali’s face drops, “They are gone.” She slides her bare foot along the grass, attempting to distract herself from the pain of the situation. “They think I’m dangerous, so they locked me here.” 

Loki squints his eyes. “Why do they think that?”

“But you’ve never hurt anyone.” Thor says, equally as confused and hurt.

She shrugs and when she looks up she’s met with their saddened faces. She lets out a deep sigh, wanting not to think about it any longer than she already has. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Come! Let’s go on an adventure like we used to!”

Reluctantly, the Asgardians smile and go to follow her, sneaking past the castle in secret as they had once always done. The three walk until finding an abandoned corner, one free of guards. Arali sits upon the ground, reaching out her hand. “Please. Tell me how things have been.” She smiles softly.

The two join beside her. “Things have been fine.” Loki begins. “Well… rather boring, actually.”

“Father is preparing the two of us for when we’ll have to take the throne. He has been training us in combat and I’ve grown stronger than ever.” Thor states proudly with a wide grin.

Loki scoffs, leaning closer to Arali. “Thor has been the same as usual, as you can see.” A smirk rises to his face as he glances over to his brother.

Arali smiles, deeply having missed her dear friends. They sit for some time, catching up with one another, jesting and laughing. Occasionally the boys would show off their new skills to the girl, but alas, soon her two friends would have to leave, for their mother would be worried.

While Loki is distracted, Thor leans close, whispering to her, “Do you still like my brother?” He asks.

She raises an eyebrow at him, not expecting his question, before her face would give a more vulnerable expression.

Thor takes this as a yes and stands. “Alright, well. I’m going to check if there are any guards around, I would hate to have to do ‘Get Help’. Meet me at the front entrance in a short while.” He says teasingly at his brother, before dashing out of sight.

A blush rises to Arali’s face, embarrassed as she realizes Thor’s intentions. She nervously inspects Loki’ face, before deciding to break the awkward silence that has risen between the two of them. “Thank you for helping me today.” Then, taking a brave step forward, she leans in to kiss him on the cheek. 

He falters for a moment, looking away with a deep blush, almost as dark as her own. “I-um, I should go make sure my brother is alright. Hopefully, we can visit you tomorrow. Goodbye for now.” Without giving her a second look, he all but runs away.

Arali feels the pit of her stomach drop. Embarrassed, she sits alone and in silence, mentally kicking herself over her actions. With a sigh, she eventually picks herself up to climb back to her room. Little does she know, that would be the last time she would see her friends for many years to come.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Year after year would pass by. The walls began to fill with drawings, for it was the only way Arali knew how to communicate her deep feelings. She would draw far away places she dreamt about, dresses and armor she wished she could wear, people she wanted to be. But many of her drawings were of her childhood love interest. She pondered over how the years had treated him, what he looked like nowadays.

Naturally, the two boys told their mother of Arali’s secret room within the castle, which led to snooping on her behalf. Arali was delighted that Frigga had found her, and the older woman would keep her company and bring her gifts when she could, but there was little the Allmother could do to free the child.

Frigga would go to teach Arali how to read and write, everything she was unable to learn during her youth. She would then start keeping a journal, letting out all the feelings she had been unable to express over the course of multiple centuries. Arali longed for the prince she was promised to, for him and Frigga were the last things alive giving her hope of ever returning to her previous way of life. She missed having a family and she missed her freedom as well.

With time, her hair fell longer and her bones reached taller. Her baby weight shed off her meat and was replaced with dips and curves. Her body slowly outgrew her prison until she became a young adult. She had little understanding of what the outside world held in store for her, but after centuries of waiting for something to happen, Arali was determined to finally take her life into her own hands.

-ˋˏ ༻ Arali ༺ ˎˊ-

Sunshine hits my eyes through the open window, forcing me out of my slumber. I groan, turning on my flat pillow to stare at the walls of my prison cell. I used to look at my drawings and feel inspired, but now I find myself numb to them. I was so childish for believing one day I could live as I once had. I used to think that if I escaped, everything would go back to normal, but freedom will not bring back my home, it will not bring back my brothers and sister, and it will not bring back our mother. If I could escape, I would have to live in hiding, for Zeus would surely put a bounty on me. However, I don’t wish to live in hiding, to live in fear. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to see the world and I want the world to see me right back. I am done being hidden.

Unfortunately, the childish happiness that my old childhood friend once gave me has lasted for all these years. I am still incredibly fond of Loki, even if it has been centuries since we last spoke. At this rate, I believe once I die I will spend the rest of eternity wallowing away in the Fields of Mourning. I am terrified to ever see him again, despite how much I wish to. I’d rather admire him from a distance, than to ever find out that he no longer remembers who I am, let alone if his feelings of friendship are still present or if they’re the only feelings he’ll ever have towards me. Most days, I try my best to snuff the feeling he once gave me. It is best that I forget about him all together. What matters most is mine and my family’s respect. Who knows, he might be very different from what I remember him as.

I sigh, pushing away the thoughts, before sitting up and stretching my arms into the air and focusing my mind on the task at hand. I have been gathering supplies for a while now; dyes, and little jewels and trinkets that I found on the streets to add to my attire. Of course I had snuck out plenty of times, I had Thor and Loki to thank all those years ago for that.

I made a friend a while back, he owns a fabric store. In return for material, I agreed to work for him until I could pay it off. Though, he tends to be very generous to me, supportive in my efforts to stand up to Zeus unlike everyone else that has ever been wronged by him, and believe me, that would be many of people.

I would be lying if I said I am not terrified, Zeus could easily kill me for my actions, but I will not live a moment longer in my prison, I cannot take another year of letting my mother’s death mean nothing to him or the people of Olympia. I am a goddess, a princess! I should be treated with the same respect, and if I am not, I will find a way to single handedly tear this kingdom apart.

However, if I am standing up to him, I’m going to at least dress the part and show him all the things Frigga taught me, despite his efforts to keep me starved and ignorant. I am intelligent, I am talented, I am beautiful, and most importantly, I survived. The planet will know this soon.

I have been piecing my gown together for months. I’d stay up for hours, hand sewing each gem in carefully, hoping to never stain the green silk each time the tiny needle pricks my finger. It is finally done. I will present myself to Zeus in the morning, then the entire kingdom will know that the Titans live on.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

My feet tremble as I approach the front gates of Olympus Castle for the first time. I’ve never dared to travel in this direction of the castle when sneaking out before. The guards would catch me, they would tell Zeus, then he would have my head on a stake. But now, I would rather my head there, than filled a second longer with the speech I have been dying to bestow to the murderer of my mother. There is no turning back now.

I pace forwards, the guards eyeing down at me from their places on either side of the walkway. They don’t recognize me like this, no one does, and they do not need to yet. The only person that needs to understand who I am is Zeus, the rest will follow soon enough.

The main hall leading to the throne room is decorated with intricate marble statues. To my surprise, there is a statue dedicated to my mother. My lip snarls when I see the piece of art specifically designed to showcase her death and Zeus’ part in it. He takes pride in what he did, and worse of all, the others commend him for it. I stop short in front of the sculpture, feelings of guilt and disgust dropping to the pit of my stomach. He has painted my mother as a monster, a monster deserving of slaying. This is what Olympia thinks of my family, of the Titans.

I take one last look at my mother’s face. He cannot take her from me, she is still here. She lives on in me, she lives in the trees, the wind, the animals. She is the earth. I feel her everywhere, she speaks to me, she guides me. She never died. She is just free of her physical form. She can be anything and go anywhere now.

I can do this.

I have to do this.

With a deep, staggered breath, I adjust my dress, hold my head high, and march onward.

Two hoplites guard the impending double doors to the throne room, spears and shields raised high and ready. “What business do you have with the king?” One blares out.

I pause in front of my last obstacle, glaring up at the hoplites. “I wish to ask for my title back, as a Titan princess.”

The two guards' faces drop upon hearing one of my words, gripping tighter on their spears. A word they have not heard for many years, no doubt. Regardless, they do not let me pass.

I know better than to argue with them, but they know not of my abilities to maneuver around the castle. With a huff, I exit back the way I came, but as soon as their eyes stray from forward, I dart down one of the side halls. I have to be quick and quiet, but I know a way to the throne room through the kitchen.

Pressing my back against the stone walls, I peek into the room. The maids are hunched over the many delicacies they will soon offer the gods and goddesses of the court, far too busy with their demands than to pay any attention to the intruder behind them. While they are occupied, I tiptoe past and into the final hall. Unfortunately for me, there are two more guards blocking the opening, but they are the only thing keeping me from coming face to face with Zeus. If I’m able to get past them, I can grab his attention just before they can take me away.

I hear the god’s voice boom through the throne room. My heart races and my lungs jitter with an emptiness as I ready myself into a running stance.

This is it.

I push off my right leg and dart through the guards. By the time they hear me coming, I have already gone through them. However, at the very last second, one manages to grip my arm, yanking me back far enough for the second to do the same. Luckily, my actions are enough to catch attention.

I struggle and squirm in their grasp, teeth bared in fury. “ZEUS!” I scream.

The guards halt, the entire court and audience looking my way.

Zeus’ smile fades as he turns his head to the left to witness the scene. A grumble erupts from his chest as he immediately recognizes my face and motions the guards to bring me forth.

I stumble as they drag me to the center.

I’ve heard countless stories of Zeus and all of his children, but by the Gods, I never internalized just how many there are until seeing them all sitting before me. Hera’s face is filled with a shocked disgust. Last I saw her, she had ordered Zeus to kill me. I’m sure the latter will receive a long scolding regarding my ongoing health and, well, existence. But then I see her. My sister.

Aphrodite is everything I loath and yet everything I should be. She was born from the Titan Ouranos, just as I was born from his wife Gaia. She is not seen as a Titan, though our only difference is that Zeus found her before the war and me after. She is just as guilty of killing off the Titan’s as Zeus is. She will never be my sister.

“What brings you here, child?” Zeus questions, humoring me only for a moment before his anger will inevitably kick in.

Oh, I could spit on him right now. “I demand my title back. As Titan, and daughter of The Earth Mother, I am the rightful Queen of Olympia!”

The crowd gasps at my outrageous words, but my eyes can only focus on Zeus. “Settle, settle. I promise there is no reason to be fearful, my children. The Titans have all been slain and the peace received from their absence shall remain.” He turns back to me, a smug smirk playing beneath his white beard. “Child, you are far from royalty and are only proving to all of Olympus how unbalanced and mad the Titan empire truly was.” A deep laugh roars from his belly as he speaks, his children following suit which only helps his audience feel all the more comfortable laughing off my request.

I am not mad. “I am a Titan!”

“YOU-” Zeus suddenly flares up, bolting into a stand. “-ARE NOTHING!”  He bangs his staff onto the marble floor so hard that I nearly expect the ground to shatter from the force. “Guards!” He yells, however, just as they reach me I see her eyes make contact with mine. She smiles at me before waltzing towards her ‘father’ proudly. He pauses, listening to her request. Then, he perks back towards me and the guards. “Bring her to the dungeons.” He then demands.

At that moment, I feel as though I am seeing my life flash before my eyes. I have ruined this entirely. This is not how this was supposed to play out. I am supposed to be free. I deserve to be free!

They drag me down further and further into the depths of the castle, light quickly escaping my vision only helped by the small flames perched high on the walls. They stop us in the center of the room before I hear clicking sounds from behind me shortly after. The guards turn me to face Hera and Aphrodite at the entrance, the last two people I neither expected nor craved to see.

“Look who it is again. I had no idea such scum had been rotting away within the kingdom all these years, I could have sworn we weeded your kind out centuries ago.” Hera’s voice is sturdy, but her tone and words only help to weaken and dim any strength and beauty she may appear to have. “You have burdened our kingdom enough, alive or not. Your life means nothing, as does your death. You will be put to work, and you will, for the first time, have a purpose on this planet. But shall you take one breath without my permission, you will wish for a death as quick as your mother’s, am I understood?”

My chest rises and falls with rage as I glare into her cold and unforgiving eyes.

They may view me as a weed that has sprouted from my mother’s carcass, but believe me when I say I will stop at nothing until I’ve tainted the entire garden.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Ten

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous | Next (Coming Soon) Warnings: None

Twila turns against the pillow, letting out a soft yawn as she snuggles into the cotton sheets. She lets out a deep, tired breath for a moment, allowing consciousness to slowly wash over her being before her memories fully kick in and a panic rises to her heart.

This isn’t her bed.

Last thing she remembers is their shared giggles as he held her bare body against his. She jolts up, eyeing over Mattheo’s quiet room, but more importantly his absence from it. The left side of the bed is messy, the sheets rippling in the spot his body once was. She reaches her hands out to slowly graze over his spot. The sheets are cold. He’s been gone for some time.

She waits a few moments. Maybe he’s just in the washroom, she tells herself. He’ll be back any minute, but the minutes pass her by and before she knows it, the class bells ring. He’s not coming.

Her body shakes with guilt, dread, and many other emotions as she lifts herself out of bed. She pulls her bottoms on, adjusts her shirt, and fixes her hair to the best of her ability, but she needs to go quick.

She presses her ear against the door, hearing voices just outside. There’s no use in hiding now, the halls are going to be filled until class begins and she cannot afford such a strike on her record. She must face the wolves… in the same clothes she was in last night… walking from the male dormitories.

With a pained groan, she takes a deep breath, holds it in, and opens the door.

Twila speeds through the hall, realizing later that the action likely only brought more attention to her than if she had quietly snuck around her peers. She doesn’t look at the other students, she doesn’t have the strength to. The previous rumors are already bad enough, she can think of her new ones some other time. But then, she gets to the main seating area and her heart drops.

His shared laughter with his friends abruptly stops as Draco unexpectedly makes eye contact with Twila across the way. She watches as Blaise and Theo scoff out laughs at her, snickering as they piece the puzzle together quickly in their minds, but her last bit of dignity dies when she sees Draco join in with them. She wants to roll her eyes, but she’s too weak to blow it off, giving him one last glossy look and storming to the exit before she makes a bigger fool of herself in front of the entire house.

She holds back her tears just long enough for her to get back to her dorm, only mere seconds to spare before she has to be in Herbology. She rummages through her wardrobe, the tears somehow escaping from her eyes, but she angrily wipes them away and messily puts her arms through her prefect robe. Though it doesn’t take long for the tears to take control. With a weak sob, she feels her strength slip from her grasp and she slumps into her desk chair, her school robe falling back off her shoulder. She leans forward, resting her head down in her arms as the emotions force themselves free.

Maybe skipping class won’t hurt this one time.

༺ ☆ ༻

Unfortunately for Twila, her second period class is D.A.D.A, so skipping is not even a thought in her mind, she’ll already be receiving an earful from Snape about her skipping her last class, let alone his own. Even more devastating news, she’ll also have to face Draco this period.

She doesn’t even dare look at him as she enters the room, making the effort to sit in a seat completely opposite of him as well, something she’s never done even from the very first day of school.

She hears the boys snicker like they did earlier, and she doesn’t need to look up to find out at what or who. Regardless, she focuses on her work. I came here for help, not for relationships. I came here for a reason. I came here for a reason. She has to remind herself of these things in order to keep her sanity and her tears from spilling out again.

When class ends, she’s determined to do the exact same thing in potions; ignore Draco and work. Unlike her usual behavior, she is first out of her seat, squeezing past students and out the door before anyone’s even allowed to glance her way.

She rushes through the halls, knowing her own way to the classroom by now. As she enters, she finds a lone table to seat herself at, pulling out her books and already working ahead at what she sees written on the board.

To her dissatisfaction, the blond enters the class and finds her corner, sitting next to her with a smirk. She takes a deep breath, pausing her writing for only a moment, before resuming and paying him absolutely no mind.

However, her efforts only take her so far before the boy is already pestering her. “So, how did you like the party last night?”

Anger builds behind her teeth, many words she’d like to say to him, but giving him attention will only make it worse, that’s how all of her bullies have worked, Draco will be no different. She bounces her leg with impatience, keeping her mouth shut in disdain.

He eyes her in amusement. “What’s wrong? Tired after your night with Mattheo?”

She stops her writing, bouncing her pencil instead. “How’d you know?”

He scoffs. “Twila, everyone knows. You’d think the house known for secrets would be good at keeping them…”

She bites her cheek, holding back anger. “Is he bragging about it or something?” She spits out, thinking of how Mattheo must be smiling and joking with his friends about her right now.

“No.” Draco admits, nonchalantly flipping to a page in his textbook. “It’s just plainly obvious.”

She sighs, leaning back in the chair, still not bothering to make eye contact with him. “It’s never happening again, I don’t understand why you care so much.” She adds sourly.

He chuckles at her denial. “Oh, I don’t care at all. I just find it amusing how easily Mattheo was able to charm the new foreign student into his bedchamber. Quite an admirable skill, actually.”

“I’m not in the mood, Draco.” She says through her teeth.

But still he smiles. “Oh, come on, Twila. You don’t find this situation in the least bit entertaining?” But instead of their usual back and forth banter, he noticed her lip quiver so slightly before she bites on it. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach, but not enough to completely cease his pestering. “That bad, was he?”

Her voice is quiet, trying to hide the tremble she feels in her throat. “You have no idea.”

He scoffs sarcastically. “Well, I certainly hope not to,” he jests, but she only twiddles her pencil in her hands, still not raising her head yet. Draco watches her, hopeless that his behavior will bring a smile to her face as it typically does. “Twila… are you alright…?” He hesitates out.

“I’m fine.” But still, she does not show her eyes.

On the way out of class, she is once again eager to leave his side. However, this time she is stopped by a group of students at the door, troubling her in more aggressive ways than Draco usually does.

Despite his previous taunts, he finds himself making his way over, pushing aside the students surrounding her. “That’s enough. Go find someone else to bother.” His tone is authoritative, glaring down his peers. They seem taken aback by his actions, but take the hint and exit the room.

Twila watches him in her peripheral view, hugging her books to herself as they leave. Even she is surprised by what he’s done. “...Thank you.” She says, her voice soft and weak, something Draco is not at all used to.

Normally, he’d brush off the gesture, maybe even deny that he helped at all, but seeing her like this makes him feel something… something. He simply nods at her sincerity, holding the door open for her as they too take their leave.

They walk together without a word, moving closer and closer to the Great Hall for lunch, butTwila’s face drops even further when she notices the people around her. They seem to be watching her, whispering even. Her stomach drops and her fingers begin picking at the edge of her notebook cover.

Snape had told her that this would be a simple and quick procedure, that no one would care about a thing so long as she kept her mouth shut, but nothing could have prepared her to feel like this again; an outcast.

Upon entering the giant room, Draco notices that all eyes seem to be on them… on her. He looks over his shoulder at her, concern growing in him as he watches panic wash over her face.

Her heart speeds up, realizing it’s happening all over again. “I have to go,” she falters out quietly, her eyes glazing over once again as her legs make quick work to run from the scene, leaving lunch behind all together.

With a quick sigh, Draco collects himself and moves towards the Slytherin table, sitting beside Blaise and Theo as if nothing had happened.

They chuckle at her running away, amused at what their friend must have done to cause such a reaction out of her. “Was that Mattheo’s girl?” Blaise questions, trying to look over at her while she’s still in eyes view.

Draco slides into his seat, still contemplating what happened. “Yes, that’s her.” He confirms in displeasure.

“You have class together, right?” Theo asks.

“Yes, a few.” His reply is distant as he eyes over his plate.

His friends lean in curiously. “Have you ever seen her do magic?”

Draco raises an eyebrow, suddenly caught off guard by the question.”Not really, why?” He finds himself curious again, nearly forgetting this aspect of the girl and wondering if they have discovered something about her he hasn’t.

They both laugh at his answer, seeming to beam excitedly at a revelation. “Have you not heard?”

Draco looks over them both impatiently, anticipating whatever information they’ve managed to come up with. “Heard what? What’s so amusing?” 

Theo chuckles at the blond, leaning in closer. “Mate… she’s a squib.”

༺ ☆ ༻

Twila sits anxiously in the hall. She’s been really pushing her luck with Jewel lately, and she can’t seem to escape the punishments that come with that.

Her heart drops in disappointment as she hears the clicking of heels approaching her at the end of the corridor from the Great hall. Twila stares down at her own feet, readying herself for her friend’s rage.

“Twila!” Jewel calls out, bewilderment written on her face as she stops short of the Ravenclaw sitting on the stone floor. “I thought you said you were done! What’s going on?” She places her hands on her hips in anger. 

Twila isn’t surprised that Jewel has found out on her own, the whole school has done so already. She rests her head on the wall behind her, having no energy left to even defend herself. 

“I just- I can’t believe you. I asked one thing of you, for your own protection! I’m telling you, it is not worth it!”

However, seeing as her friend still won’t even make the effort to look up at her, Jewel drops her arms in defeat, letting go of her anger enough to be there for one of her oldest friends. “What happened?” She says softer this time.

Twila bites her lip, still feigning suddenly fascination in her shoes. “He left.” She whispers.

Jewel watches Twila fight back her tears with a sigh, before kneeling to her side on the floor. “I tried to warn you, Twila. If he’s not lying and hiding from you, he’s leaving you entirely. He doesn’t know anything else.” Jewel bites her lip, thinking over all the rumors she’s heard recently. “Come.” She says suddenly, reaching out her hand. “I’ll sneak some food into the library and we can eat there.”

The Ravenclaw looks up in surprise. She and Jewel may have their own ways of viewing life, but at the end of the day, she may be the only true friend that she has.

Twila smiles sadly, taking her hand and following her to the library.

༺ ☆ ༻

“Twila…”

In the cold and damp detention room Professor Snape and Twila sit, much too early in the morning for such a conversation for the both of them.

Snape taps his pen against the ledge of the wooden desk, his dark eyes fixated on her. “I heard you skipped your morning class yesterday, and while I appreciate your concern over your attendance to mine, we have made a bargain prior to this that you are expected to uphold.”

She stares down at her hand, fiddling her thumbs around the other.

He lets out a deep sigh. “Is there something that is causing you to skip your classes, Twila?” His expression remains neutral, but Twila has been casted as his responsibility, so anything she does directly reflects onto him, and this is unacceptable behavior.

She stares off to the side, letting her voice whisper out of her mouth. “They’re all looking at me again.”

Snape leans against the front of his desk, his calm expression shifting a bit. “I presume you mean your classmates?”

“It’s just like Ilvermorny again.” She says, unable to raise her voice without it cracking. “They know I’m different, Professor.”

He remains silent, examining the misery in her eyes and understanding her isolation. “I’m truly sorry, Miss DeLuna, but it must be done.” With a sigh, he lowers his head back down to his book, studying over his new subjects of interest.

She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly as she stares at the cobbled floors. Despite her stress, her heart flutters anxiously with a question she has been pondering for a few days now, one that feels like no better time than now to ask. “I, um…” Her words get caught in her throat, raising Snape’s attention to her once more. “I was actually hoping to discuss the book you suggested, as well.”

Snape eyeballs her from over the edge of his own book, before curiously closing it and setting it down on the table behind him. “Yes… of course.” He pronunciates slowly as usual.

She pulls the book ‘Heinous Healing’ out of her bag, letting it thud down on the desk before her. “Do you think anything in here actually works? Or… is allowed…?”

With a deep breath, Snape crosses his arms. “Hypothetically, yes. Everything in that book should provide results, though I’m unfamiliar with just what kind of results those may be. However, that is not my reasoning for suggesting the book in the first place. As for your last question, I know the text suggests rather… unorthodox methods, nothing I recommend you attempt, but I believe it to be wise to be educated on all of our options.”

Twila eyes the book in front of her, her finger thoughtfully thumbing the edge of its fragile pages. “I was thinking of something recently…”

Professor Snape takes notice of the way she fiddles with the book as she thinks. “And what about?”

Her eyes still gaze over the open page in front of her, looking for nothing but the push to say her next words. Her heart flutters with a familiar darkness, but she’s certain that is not what’s powering her curiosity, only her lust for knowledge. She nervously bites the inside of her cheek and counts to three. If her past weren’t enough already to ban her from most wizarding schools, this might. “Do you think Salazar Slytherin might hold some of the answers we seek?”

Snape’s brows shoot up, as he realizes what she is suggesting. “Are you proposing…” He pauses, taking a second to ensure he’s understanding her correctly. “Are you proposing we take inspiration from one of the most vile wizards known to Hogwarts?”

She lets out a guilt breath, only now having the courage to meet his eyes. “Professor, with all due respect, I have been studying methods like this for years, perhaps what we need is to look into the mind of someone different, someone more… honest about the method’s complexities, someone that would actually use them.” 

Professor Snape understands her sentiment entirely, but still he is unsure which decision to make. It is enough their secret meetings, to allow so many visits to the restricted section would only appear as favoritism to the other students, or worse. Not to mention, what she is suggesting would require even more secrets from Dumbledore himself, but still, her suggestion sounds intriguing, especially coming from someone not within his own house.

Twila notices his hesitancy and shuts the book softly, taking a deep breath. “I know this sounds risky and incredibly suspicious, but I only mean to find answers. In any normal circumstance, I admit, I would have just gone and done the research on my own without permission, but I respect you a lot, Professor, and I know that I can’t do this on my own anymore. I would greatly appreciate your guidance as I navigate though these darker subjects, something I didn’t have the privilege of with Mr. Moore. But even then, if you say no, I promise to put my curiosity to rest.”

Snape is taken aback by her honesty, surprised to feel his admiration towards her grow. Deep down, he knows she may be one of the few students that has the intellect to handle such a subject with a level of maturity. A tempting proposition she has put onto him.

“Very well.” Snape agrees. “I’ll see what material is available to us, but I want you to promise me something.”

She sits straighter in her seat, hope gleaming in her eyes.

“Promise me that you will not let this curiosity get out of hand. We are going to explore some very dark and twisted matters. I have no doubts in your abilities as a student, but we must take this very seriously. Do you understand?”

She nods sincerely, meeting his eyes with both high regard and excitement.

“And no matter what we learn, do not attempt such things on your own. These darker matters require a great deal of knowledge and skill, especially if we are to study them right under the nose of the Headmaster, not to mention its unethical and dangerous nature. Promise me…” He raises a finger, staring her down with a warning look, the first and last warning.

She gives a slight bow of her head. “Of course, Professor. Believe me, Salazar isn’t exactly an idol in my eyes, but I do fully believe he’ll be of great use to me this year and I wouldn’t ask if I thought otherwise.”

For a brief moment, Twila catches the tiniest glimpse of warmth in the professor; an understanding. “I see…” He says as he studies her over. “Alright. Let us begin then.”

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Nine

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: NSFW 18+, heavy makeout, bullying, swearing

-

“This year’s already stressing me out. The boys are barely adequate and we’ve been practicing all summer to put these Americans on their asses. Sorry, Twila.”

“No, by all means.”

After a rematch with Gryffindor, the Slytherin’s were now qualified to enter the Internationals and were determined to climb their way to the World Cup. First match would be against Ilvermorny, Hogwarts already preparing to host their opposing team.

Jewel takes a less thoughtful bite of her muffin, looking over towards the Slytherin table at her team. “I can’t believe they’re already going to be arriving tomorrow.”

Twila is happy that her relationship with Jewel is mended once more, but less than happy to hear that her old school would be coming to stay at Hogwarts for a week. She contemplates hiding in her room the next few days just to avoid them, there are more than a few people she would not like to see again.

The hours go by all too quickly, and next she knows, the entire student body is gathered in the Great Hall to welcome the foreign school. Luckily, it is just the winning Ilvermorny quidditch team coming to visit, leaving a few hundred people out that Twila prayed to avoid. Unluckily, the winning team is the Horned Serpents, her former rival house.

Twila stays on her guard, now more than aware that her old classmates are roaming freely in the halls. She hugs her torso, keeping her head low.

“Are you alright, Twila?” Jewel asks with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She answers shortly, deciding to ‘fix her hair’ as they pass one of the navy and crimson colored robes standing out amongst the Hogwarts ones.

Jewel chuckles at this. “Recognize any of them?”

“Been trying not to.” Twila hugs herself tighter, continuing to peer over the student's heads. 

Jewel studies her friend's face understandingly. “Draco and I are hanging out in the courtyard. You should come.”

“Are you talking about me?” A deeper voice comes from behind them. Draco’s head appears over Jewel’s shoulder.

“Twila’s joining us. Come.” Jewel grasps Twila’s hand and pulls her towards the courtyard.

Draco follows slowly with a roll of his eyes. The two sit on the grass, looking up at Draco and waiting for him to join them, but he is reluctant to dirty his robes. He sits with a grumble, crossing his legs in a more comfortable position. “So, Twila, seeing as you went to Ilvermorny, what do you know about the Horned Serpents?” 

Twila turns to him in surprise, like she’s been pulled out of a thought just then. “Oh, um, what do you mean exactly? Just in general?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, like strengths, weaknesses or whatever. I need to know what I’ll be going up against at the end of the week.” 

Twila shifts in her spot a bit, reluctant to remember. “Well, as far as quidditch goes, I’m not sure. I never really watched them play. But as a house, Horned Serpents are known for their intelligence and academics.”

Draco scoffs. “And I suppose this is your old house we’re going against then?”

Twila chuckles, shaking her head. “I was not, actually. I was in Thunderbird; moody, but smart and soulful adventurers.”

“Drawn to bird houses, are we?” He scoffs out, raising a dubious brow. “I can see moody just fine, but you? An adventurer? Seems unlikely to me.”

“Then I may surprise you.” She giggles out proudly.

His eyes squint, a doubtful chuckle escaping his lips as he leans his hands back into the lush grass. “Oh will you? I’m sure you’re quite the daredevil.” He states sarcastically.

“We should invite them to our common room sometime.” Jewel says with a smirk, adjusting herself to sit on her feet. “Learn a bit about them.”

Twila scoffs, disinterested. “You guys have fun with that.”

Draco finds himself amused by her response.

The trio continue their friendly discussion for some time until Twila has to take a sudden leave upon realizing the time. The remaining pair watch as the odd Ravenclaw races her way back into the castle.

However, Jewel is more than used to the girl’s behavior and turns to Draco with something she needs immediately discussed.  Her voice is lowered as she waits for a group of students to pass by. “Did you put the map back in my room?”

Draco’s expression turns serious, able to quickly adjust to the sudden change in energy. He nods, responding at a similar volume. “Yeah, right where you asked.”

She lets out a nervous breath. “Good. I don’t want him to know you had it. Thank you for taking it for a while.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but his smile is slight. “Yeah, no problem.”

༺ ☆ ༻

Though the Horned Serpents are visiting, that in fact does not halt classes for the rest of the school.

Being forced into History of Magic with Mattheo is one of Twila’s least favorite parts of the day. Not that she cares, of course. Her emotions are one hundred percent in her control, and if she says she doesn’t feel anything, then feel anything she will not. She just has to make sure to keep staring at anything else in the room, then everything will be fine.

Later in the day, Jewel guides the girls to the Slytherin Common Room, granting them access through the doors through her invitation. Twila is amazed as she watches the snake tile in the floor, rise up and slither into the shape of an entryway, confirming to her the exact location of the common room. She is barely surprised to find it near the hall that leads to the detention room she and Snape meet at.

The girls walk shyly behind Jewel as they descend further and further into the cold and damp basement. The sounds of water droplets fill their ears before a large fountain comes into their view, and then the ginormous windows that look into the depth of the Black Lake. Twila finds it all extremely beautiful, and oddly inspiring.

Chatting and jabbering make it known to Twila and, just as Jewel had promised, the common room is full of the foreign students. A grumble vibrates at the bottom of Twila’s throat. Jewel has failed to mention that today would be the day that she’d invited the Ilvermorny team to the common room.

Draco lounges at the center of it all, keeping a friendly facade as he assesses the rival team while they speak to him. His friends surround him, engaging in conversation with the navy robed students. It is no surprise to Twila that the Horned Serpents had found quick friends in the Slytherins. They are very alike in her mind.

As they edge closer, their ears pick up on their conversation, that is until it halts entirely upon the new students' eyes landing on the girls.  A familiar boy’s face lights up, making Twila’s stomach churn in a mix of nerve and anger.

Silas. Oh, how she hated him.

“I can’t believe it.” Silas chuckles out, causing the Slytherin’s to follow his gaze towards her. “Twila, we’ve missed you the past two years. Where have you been?” He asks, but anyone could pick up on the ill intent in his voice.

She picks at a loose string that hangs from the sleeve of her sweater dress, but her eyes never falter away from his. She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. “I was there. I’m surprised you didn’t notice considering you still can’t keep my name off your tongue.”

The sides of Draco’s lips curl at her gentle remark, watching the scene play out in a silent amusement.

Unfortunately, Silas finds this equally as amusing. “Ah, I see. You transfer schools and suddenly you’ve grown a voice. What changed? Do your new friends not know why you left?”

Twila’s mouth dries of a comeback, looking down at him with a wavering glare. What does he know? What have they been saying about her since she left? Did they tell Draco?

“We know more than you ever will.” Jewel steps forward to take the lead, before taking Twila’s arm and guiding her away from the situation and to the dorms instead. She looks over her shoulder with a proud smile as the boy glares at the back of Twila’s head, but her friend gives him no further acknowledgement. 

As they go, Silas chuckles a victorious laugh. 

Draco keeps his eyes on her as well, mind swirling with more than a few questions. Then, he turns back to Silas with an eyebrow raised. “You two seem to know each other.” He observes.

The American boy chuckles sarcastically. “She’s a freak. She messed with hexes and curses and got expelled for it.”

One of his friends leans forward. “I’m putting my money on the idea that she couldn’t handle being the outcast and got caught trying to get revenge on the school. She was always quiet and had this mean look to her. I wouldn’t be surprised if news came out that she tried to burn down the school.”

Draco finds their rumors curious. He has questioned her about her past at Ilvermorny before, but he’s never gotten any straight answers. Though it is all rather ironic. It was no secret that Twila didn’t cherish her memories from Ilvermorny. Did she really have ill intentions towards the school however?

The blond simply nods in silence and lets himself digest these words while his friends take over the conversation.

However, Draco isn’t the only one of Twila’s new acquaintances that had seen the interaction take place. 

༺ ☆ ༻

 Game day doesn’t come quick enough for Twila, but eventually she finally finds herself seated in the pitch.

Cheers roar throughout the stadium as the teams step out onto the field; Slytherin dressed in green, Horned Serpent in purple. Serpent against serpent, both equal matches in intellect and craftiness and perfect mirrors of one another in more ways than one.

The teams are rushed with adrenaline as they ready themselves in the center. The winner moves on to the next international game and ultimately to the Quidditch World Cup, something no Hogwarts team has ever achieved. 

One Slytherin boy finds his heart racing particularly fast.

As the game begins, Mattheo’s mind goes black, focus laser sharp. He’s been waiting for this moment all season and his team is determined to win, any distractions be damned.

They battle it out until halftime swings around and they are just barely ahead. He sits with his team on the benches, resting while the band plays their tunes. He scans the crowd, looking for no one in particular, but his eyes find her regardless.

Twila sits with her friends, all three decked out in green. The group of girls yell chaotically for their home team, well, Penelope does anyways. The other two simply smile and clap, showing their support a few octaves lower than their red headed friend.

The boy lets out a chuckle to himself, unable to stop from smiling a little bit. Though her friends cheer Jewel on, it’s clear to him where Twila’s eyes have fallen despite their last interaction.

The band plays their last note, causing another uproar from the crowd. Excitement flies through the air once more as the two teams return to their positions.

Mattheo tries hard to focus on the game again, but his heart beats faster than normal. He can feel her eyes follow him everywhere; he’s unable to escape her influence, nor the distracting thoughts that come with it. He tries to remind himself what happened the last time he let his imagination run wild, but he finds himself looking back at her nonetheless.

Despite having more than a few teammates with their heads occupied with thoughts outside the game, Slytherin ends victorious. The crowd is loud and chaotic. Slytherin will proceed to the next international game, that much closer to the World Cup.

Twila smiles brightly as her friends cheer, reveling in knowing that her old school will be gone in the morrow and return home as losers. Then, she rushes through the stadium with Celia, and Penelope to find where Jewel and her team are celebrating.

༺ ☆ ༻

As one would guess, a party would naturally ensue for the winning team, the scheming Slytherins already planning a night of fun for their efforts and the professors pretending to know nothing about it.

Mattheo and Draco find their way to the common room. Loud music fills the area and people are crowded everywhere. It doesn’t take them long to find Jewel’s squad already celebrating within the crowd.

Draco pushes his way over, but Mattheo stays back. His face clouds over with a different kind of emotion. Something tells him to walk over to her, but everything else tells him not to. It’s a bad idea and will do more harm than good.

He can’t help but smile at her in spite of everything that was said last between them. Her braids drape down her dress, their caramel color subtle under the dim lights. He thinks green suits her, maybe even too well. Mattheo can’t even imagine the chaos that would occur if Twila were in the same house, the sneaking Jewel would do to hide her from him. But then he’d have the chance to bump into her more often. He’d also be able to sneak around with her better. Maybe if she was a Slytherin she’d understand his urgency for privacy. Or better yet, maybe she’d be in on it.

The new girl bounces in her spot, dancing softly to the music while her friends begin drinking. Her head turns as she innocently scans the crowd, still dancing, that is until her eyes land on him.

Suddenly, his chest feels tight. He wants to go over there so badly. 

Jewel is none the wiser to their staring contest. The brunette closes her eyes, throwing her hair gently to the music. He’d be lying if he said he never once felt something for Jewel. Naturally, after spending a childhood with someone, one would feel the urge, but those feelings long been destroyed. Besides, between the two of them, Twila is the only real gem that seems to shine in his eyes.

As Jewel leaves to grab another drink, he sees this as an opportunity to approach Twila, but as he does so, his feet get heavier the closer and closer he gets. He shouldn’t, but he almost can’t stop himself.

To his surprise, she smiles wider as he makes his way towards her. “Congratulations!” She says excitedly to him, but it is crystal clear the mask she is fighting to maintain, the ‘No hard feelings’, ‘We can still be friends after our break up’ lie that couples tend to attempt for half a day before never speaking again.

He’s both shocked and disappointed by her reaction, but plays along with the casual charade for her sake. “Thank you. We really needed that win. It’s been a tough few years.” 

The two stand rather awkwardly as the party continues around them. Life goes on, but they stay still, reluctant even. He looks down at her, eyeing her from up close now. Her green skirt fans out past her hips, showing her support for the team, for his team. “I, um, I like the green. Looks good on you.” His heart races all over again, no matter how innocently he tries to speak his words.

“Thanks.” She smiles, swaying in a flustered manner at his complement, only making said skirt swish against her skin. Then, she pauses for a moment, biting her lip at a thought. She shouldn’t say it, but she’s dying to see his reaction. “It’s for you,” she quickly adds.

Part of Twila almost hopes Mattheo doesn’t hear that last part over the loud music. She shouldn’t flirt, she knows it’s wrong, but it just comes so naturally between them. However, she is pleasantly disappointed that he does hear her.

He chuckles, cheeks beginning to rose. As the thought registers in his mind, he feels a warmth in his gut. “Really, for me?”

She nods, eyes fluttering to look up at him, daring yet shy.

He feels a sense of nervousness wash over him. He doesn’t expect something like this from her, and yet here she is, twirling around in a green skirt in support of him. He tries to keep his eyes locked on her face. We’re being casual, just friendly and casual. “That’s real sweet of you, Twila.”

His mind begins to wander to places it shouldn’t be. He knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to just ignore the connection he once felt between them.

He glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching them, someone in particular. The last thing he needs is Jewel to see them even in the same room. He takes in the environment. The music is loud and no one is paying attention to anything but the music. His heart pounds, but before he can catch himself, the words just seem to spill out. “Is it okay if we talk somewhere more private?”

His stomach fills with dread. Why would he ask that?

Twila hesitates for a moment, looking over at her friends at the food table with multiple feelings beginning to shiver through her body. Just a talk. What harm could be done? Besides, what Jewel never finds out won't hurt her. In the end, she agrees.

He gives her a hand, moving the two of them away from the main crowd before anyone can process their absence. He decides the best place for them to talk would be the privacy of his dorm room, an easy place to sneak off to. He enters the room quickly, before shutting and locking the door behind her. “We should be good in here,” he says as he pats the wooden door, making sure it fits snugly between its lock.

She scratches her arm nervously, taking a peek around the boy’s slightly messy room, but still, she beams with anticipation. “What did you want to talk about?” She asks with an excited glint in her eyes.

Mattheo moves a bit closer. His chest flutters with nerves. He used to be confident around her, around most people. He can’t believe what’s gotten into him lately. “Did you really mean it?” He murmurs, eyes locked on her face.

“Mean what?” She asks.

Another step closer, the distance between the two disappearing quicker than they can even realize. “When you said you wore that for me. Did you really mean that?” His voice is just barely above a whisper, his words close enough to be able to glide past her own mouth.

Her face heats up, her body melts. She raises an eyebrow at his boldness, but she’s also so very pleased and impressed by his actions. Her breathing grows heavier as he nears, her eyes tracing a line between his eyes and lips, unable to find words of her own.

His heart thuds hard in his chest. Mattheo’s eyes become as heavy as his breathing. He can feel his control slipping from the palm of his hand and into hers instead. “We shouldn’t do this… should we…?” 

“No.” She whispers weakly, but doesn’t pull away as he inches closer and closer.

He scans her face, only imagining the things she’s thinking. “We should stop…”

“Yeah.” Her breath cascades across his lips, her hands reaching out to place on his chest to anchor her to something as she feels her balance begin to waver.

Just a hair away now. “It would be wrong, wouldn’t it…?”

“Just shut up and do it already.” She whispers back.

That’s all he needs to hear and, in an instant, his lips latch on to hers. He leans into the kiss as feelings of euphoria overwhelm his body. He feels the need to have even more of her, every moment feeling like something he’s never felt before.

She moans against his lips, holding his face still as her lips meet his back. She feels a strong current of electricity pour through her body as his hands grasp her waist and move her back against the wall.

He breaks away, only far enough for his lips to graze upon hers as he speaks. “Is this what you wanted?” He grins, reconnecting them.

She hums smugly against him. “I know it’s what you’ve been wanting.”

He chuckles softly at her comment, moving down to kiss her neck. “Don’t act like you’re any better than me.” He mumbles against her skin.

She lets out a breathy laugh, holding the back of his head so his lips can press firmly to her neck. She rolls her head to rest on the wall behind her, her eyes closing shut in pleasure.

Her reactions are enough to drive him crazy. With every kiss, he draws out her soft and sweet sounds, pressing closer to her until there’s not an inch left between them. He moves down her neck, leaving behind small spots wherever his lips touch until finding his way to her collarbone to make a nibble and then back up to her ear so he can whisper to her. “Is the skirt really for me?” His voice low and quiet, just for her to hear.

She giggles at his questioning, her eyes still shut and her head resting upon the wall. “Am I not allowed to support my favorite team?” She smirks.

But he only smirks back. “I know a few ways you can support me without it,” his voice even deeper than before and his fingers trailing up her inner thigh and beneath the article of clothing.

Her smirk disappears, her eyes now looking up at him with a needy lust.

The fabric of the skirt bunches up around his wrist as he reaches higher. Her legs clench around his hand with a whimper, but his free one grasps her leg, bringing it up to his hip to allow him access again as his lips find home in her neck. “You want me, don’t you?”

Her head feels like it’s made of clouds, her fingers feeling like they’re the only things with strength in her body as they grip tightly onto his shoulders.

“Say the words.” 

She closes her eyes, chest heaving. “I want you.”

He reaches for her other leg now, lifting it to his other hip and pinning her against the wall with his pelvis. The two lock lips again, before Twila finds her hips moving at their own accord, as much as her position allows her to. However, to her satisfaction, Mattheo is quick to return the gesture with his own movements.

He’d have to listen to his mind eventually, but maybe one last night won’t hurt, so long as no one finds out. 

He brings her to his bed, letting her slide down his body until she’s laying down upon it, smiling up at him with an excited grin. He dives down on top of her, his hands shimmying up her legs and back beneath her skirt until finding the cotton of her undergarments where he then leaves a soft kiss before gently biting at the sensitive skin of her thighs.

She arches her back, before reaching down to pull him into another kiss, however, his hand remains between her legs. She moans into his lips, letting her hands run down the front of his shirt before slipping underneath to graze up his torso. His hands reach up to do the same to her and she nearly falls victim to it, before her mind flashes with panic.

“Wait!” She calls out suddenly.

Mattheo stares down at her in shock and concern, stopping his movements entirely. “What? What’s wrong?”

Twila calms her breathing, realizing she’s scared him now. Her eyes fill with guilt as she meets his. “Sorry, I- Can I keep my shirt on?”

He raises an eyebrow in surprise at first, but agrees quickly after, his nerves settling as he’s happy to hear that she’s alright. “Yeah, of course. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

She smiles at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his lips once more.

However, the look in her eyes makes him falter for a moment. He leans down to kiss her back, before something comes into his mind. His mark. He nearly forgot entirely. “Uh, as long as I can keep mine on too.”

She giggles, not thinking much about it. “That’s fine with me.”

His face gets hot. He’s nervous and excited all at once, but he keeps his composure. 

“I need you, Mattheo.” She whispers, saying his name like it’s been stuck in her throat for ages.

His heart’s beats faster than it ever has, both of them ignoring the promises they gave to Jewel.

At the end of the night, Twila falls asleep with a smile still on her lips, but Mattheo can’t help but lie awake, very unsure of himself and the pain he’s brought both of his past lovers.

Of all the times he’s hurt Jewel, this would be the one to sting them both the worse. Jewel was reluctant to forgive him before, he can only hope she never finds out what they’ve done now.

He can’t keep hurting the both of them like this. He’s known from the start that anything between him and Twila cannot last, which only makes the depth of his involvement with her feel all the more painful. Shall his world ever discover her, it will without a doubt drown her before she ever realizes that it’s happening, a secret Jewel knows and has held against him for years.

He never should have trusted Jewel with his secret. He never should have become the monster he is today in the first place.

With both guilt and disconnection in his eyes, heaviness in his sigh, he picks himself up and leaves the room.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Eight

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: Swearing

-

Eleven o’clock, the bell chimes with a deep ring over the Hogwarts Grounds on a particularly cold night. A couple cuddles up in a blanket seated near the flying class lawn, just beyond the Beasts classroom.

As the week passed by, Mattheo and Twila have had regular meetups, sneaking in dates when the faculty are asleep and exchanging secret kisses in empty halls. Twila feels guilty for keeping such a thing from her longest friend, but something about him is too sweet for her to let go of just yet. For now, she’ll enjoy the sweet moments while there’s still peace.

Though, she finds it weird to be around Jewel while keeping her and Mattheo a secret. It's odd knowing that they were once together. Does Jewel still have feelings for him? Just how far did their relationship get? And how long were they together?

Part of Twila feels betrayed. Sure the two of them lived on opposite sides of the globe from each other, but she had barely heard Jewel mention the Riddles at all until she arrived here. How had she never mentioned their relationship in any of their letters? For all Twila knew, Jewel only ever had her mind on Draco. So, how did Mattheo suddenly get mixed in?

The moonlight casts brightly on the students' hair, Mattheo resting his head upon hers as they sit in a peaceful silence, nothing but the sound of their breathing to fill the slowly cooling air as autumn approaches. She lets herself scoot closer to him, placing a hand on his chest and nuzzling her face into his neck for warmth. He lets his eyes calmly wander over the grounds which are decorated with small and large orange pumpkins for the season, much like the rest of the school as well. He looks down with soft eyes, noticing hers begin to close. He chuckles gently at the sight. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your Common Room.”

She whines softly as she feels his body heat leave her side and grasps her hands instead, bringing her to a slow stand. The blankets vanish under Mattheo’s wand movements, before he leads her back through the castle towers. He brings her to that same stairway crossroad; Ravenclaw up, and Slytherin down, and bids her a goodbye and a tender kiss. She smiles as she watches the back of his head disappear down the stairs, but her fatigued mind unable to daydream about their night as she usually would. With a lazy step, she trudges forward, but stops just short of the first step.

For a moment, she feels a lingering presence near her, but when she turns around, nothing. Maybe it’s just Peeves playing his usual tricks, or maybe one of the other castle ghosts. She turns back around, foot now on the first step, but something still doesn’t feel right. It’s like a dark entity, reaching its tendril outs to touch her, to creep over her shoulder when her back is turned.

She spins one more time, gazing out into the dark halls, then she sees it. That shadow she saw that one night, following her again. She squints, but her eyes are too tired to focus in on the blackness. So, with her heart beating fast, she quickly retreats up the stairs, the eagle door slamming shut quickly behind her as she enters, locking the stalker on the opposite side. She stares at the door, heart beating faster than ever as she catches her breath. 

Why is this happening to her? And who could it be? It seems she can’t catch a break.

After calming her body, she lies in bed, but her nerves are as anxious as ever. Is she in danger once more? Has someone discovered her secrets…? Or maybe she’s just paranoid again. She had similar things happen to her after… it… happened. Perhaps it's all just in her head again, bad memories coming through and causing her paranoia all over again. She had thought she healed by now, but she tries not to hold it against herself. It’s basically her first year back after all, triggers are bound to come up eventually.

She does her best to fall asleep, telling herself that nothing was really there and that she was just tired, but something still doesn’t ease her. Even through the night, she can almost feel its energy attempting to find her and break through her shield. 

Eventually, the bells would chime to wake school sooner rather than later, but tomorrow would only be more difficult than Twila could imagine.

༺ ☆ ༻

Today is the day Slytherin goes up against Gryffindor in Quidditch, the resulting winner heading to the international games, which is keeping each student on their toes and itching for the hours to pass, the professors not so thrilled with having to fight so hard for the student’s attention all morning and afternoon.

The mostly empty halls echo the heels of Twila’s shoes as she paces up and down her assigned hall after breakfast, supposedly awaiting to ‘guide the first years and their many questions’ as McGonagall puts it, though she feels she’s the last person that should be guiding new students around a school she barely knows herself.

She has quickly grown tired of her prefect title, not from its responsibilities as one might think though. It seems more questions have risen, pondering how a brand new, foreign student was able to make prefect within her first month of arriving, something many other students haven’t been able to accomplish within the 7 years they’ve attended the school. Her prefect title, once a commendable accomplishment, now feels considered for impeachment, especially when mixed with her magical abilities in the classroom, or lack of more like.

Whispers spread around every room she enters, pairs of eyes watching her every move. Even the younger students have begun looking away as they pass her in the halls. The badge she has once felt honor and triumph to wear, now fills her with embarrassment. She doesn’t deserve to wear such a badge. She feels like a fraud.

She sighs, ashamed she hasn’t grown used to the feeling yet, but it only seems to get harder each day that passes.

She sadly glazes her eyes up and down the wall of magical paintings when a sudden pair of footsteps approach from behind her. She glances over her shoulder to see Draco with his usual smug look striding forward. She smirks back, putting up a strong front, so he won’t catch her face slipping to her thoughts like he had before. “Malfoy.”

“What’s your name again?” He teases with a grin. “So, what have you been up to? Other than…this… of course.” He says raising a judgmental brow at the old and dusty portraits.

She hums amusedly. “Just got back from the Prefect’s Bathroom actually.” She says, happily swaying her weight back and forth between her heels and the balls of her feet.

He immediately grimaces, amusedly squinting his eyes down at her. “Gods, I thought you were joking about that.”

“Why would I joke about a luxury bubble bath?”

“Ah yes, nothing says luxury like soaking up 20 other students' sweat residue.”

She grumbles, crossing her arms at his stubborn words. Clearly, he’s too spoiled to appreciate a work of art such as that bathroom. “Bathing is something most of us need to do, but I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

He scoffs, not even taking her obviously fake insult slightly to heart. “I’m surprised you get anything done with how much time you spend with Mattheo.”

Her face drops from his sentence, as does her stomach. “What do you mean?” She asks quietly.

He rolls his eyes at her weak attempt to act oblivious. “The two of you aren’t as sneaky as you think, very obvious actually.”

Twila swallows down a lump in her throat, unable to look at him as she feels her cheeks begin to heat. “Does… Jewel know?”

The secrets are just piling up between these two. Are the two of them even actually friends? He ponders. He sighs. “I can’t say, but she will if you both keep acting like idiots.”

Twila twiddles with her thumbs in thought, and she does so long after Draco leaves her side. What if Jewel does know? She’s sure that she and Mattheo had been careful all week, how had they gotten spotted?

Her mind ponders as lunch passes and the school begins preparing for the big game, leaving most of its hall’s busy with scampering students. It’s not until Mattheo himself disrupts her thoughts that she’s able to leave her mind.

“Hey, are you alright?” He jogs up to her in the hallway, walking along with her to one of the castle’s side exits.

Her eyes light up in surprise, turning to face the boy. “Yeah, why?” She says, keeping her face blank as she pushes open the door, feeling a gust of wind brush past her. A handful of students are already gathered outside the pitch, waiting to get through to their seats for the game that will begin soon.

He falters for a moment, readjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Well, I just thought… all the rumors…”

Twila’s stomach drops a second time today, heart already filling with panic. “What… rumors…?” She asks cautiously, but knowing exactly what he’d say. Or at least, one of few things he could say.

He shrugs nervously. “That the teachers aren’t letting you use magic in class. There’s gotta be some kind of policy against that.”

She feels the air from her lungs relax out of her airway, her muscles easing. “Yeah,” She chuckles, feeling somewhat lighter by his wording. It’s clear that whatever people are saying, Mattheo either doesn’t believe it, or he’s holding back from saying more. “I just have to turn in a few more assignments before I can, it’s nothing.” He looks at her skeptically, causing her to let out a quiet sigh, but ultimately ignoring it. “So, you excited for the game?” She purposely changes the subject.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll kick Gryffindor’s ass. Are you excited?” 

“Excited to watch you win.” She grins.

They walk together out to the bright and tall pitch, the area already filled with people and noises as the students anticipate the match, loudly at that.

“I’ll see you later, cheerleader.” Mattheo winks at her with his charming smirk.

Twila smiles flusteredly at him, but just as he’s about to turn to enter the changing room, Jewel emerges from the doorway. The brunette pauses, staring between the two, but muttering nothing before standing with crossed arms. Mattheo shares a glance with Twila before following the captain inside with a huff, knowing something must be up with her today. As he disappears into the room, Jewel looks over to Twila, before entering as well and closing the door.

Twila swallows down a feeling of gut rot from Jewel’s disappointed stare. She must know. She must have found out about her and Mattheo, seen them together one too many times. What will she say to Mattheo? Will Jewel be able to forgive her at all or will today’s match be the end of their friendship?

Anxiously, Twila makes her way to the stands, placing herself at an empty spot on one of the lower benches, mind heavy once again with thoughts of stress.

Minutes later, the crowds cheer as both teams take their place on the field, adorned in their green and red uniforms. Twila focuses down on the Slytherin team. Mattheo no longer wears a smile, none of them do actually. What happened to the confidence he had while walking her here? Draco seemed fine earlier as well, and knowing his views on Gryffindor, he must have been waiting for this day all semester. So why do they all seem so grim now?

Each team member readies themselves on their brooms above the field, captains meeting in the center as the flying instructor holds the quaffle out in front of them. Words are exchanged between the two captains, before the quaffle is released into the air, signifying the start of the match.

The teams fly around in circles, chasing this, flying from that, but the winner seems unclear. As one team scores 10 points, the other does nearly immediately after, tying the scores most of the game until both teams cease to score at all. Minutes seem like hours, the score completely unmoving. The crowd gets fidgety watching Draco and the Gryffindor seeker go head to head against the snitch, both just barely grasping it. Just then, the beaters fly by them, the bludger coming quickly after and knocking into Draco’s broom, causing him to crash into the other seeker and send both straight to the ground, scraping the sand as they tumble off their brooms.

With a sigh, the announcer calls the end of the game, tied at 40 -40. 

Twila can practically hear the Slytherin team groan from the other side of the field. The crowd grumbles down the steps, complaining about the long game and giving their own advice about how they personally would have won the match. However, Twila’s mind was far from quaffles and scores, her thoughts nearly as tense as the battle that just played before her eyes. She can only hope that she isn’t the cause of this.

Twila waits for most of the crowd to disperse, before cautiously heading towards the equipment tent, listening carefully in case she maybe shouldn’t enter. Her ears pick up on an argument, but the exact words are unclear. Her fingers gently creak the door open, peeking inside to see Mattheo angrily throw down his things, Jewel close behind.

“What the hell! The quaffle was right there! How could you miss it?” Jewel calls as she stomps up to the boy.

Mattheo turns around with an unbelievable look in his eyes as he hangs up his broom. “Sorry, captain.” He spits out with a certain amount of venom in his voice.

Draco doesn’t watch the scene, but allows the smallest hint of a smile to form on his face at Mattheo’s remark, but Jewel catches it and finds nothing funny about the situation. “Nice job on the snitch out there too. I see you’ve been practicing.” She snaps sarcastically.

Draco’s face quickly contorts, a mixture of confusion and disgust. “Right, and maybe you’d like to catch it yourself then. Potter didn’t exactly have it either. Should have thrown the quaffle myself. At least I could have done it,” he joins to jab back at the two of them.

There’s a thick tension in the air. However, it’s obvious to Twila that quidditch is not the real issue here. 

Mattheo rolls his eyes at the both of them, grabbing his backpack and marching towards the door. Twila quickly backs up, freezing as Mattheo pushes past the exit, coming face to face with her. He holds the door, for the first time looking down at her with distance and dejection.

But the young Rookburg takes notice and marches over, pushing herself between the two as she hooks arms with Twila and carries her back towards the castle. “Come on, Twila,” she interrupts.

The boy follows after the two in an angered state of annoyance. “Can I just talk to her, please?” He raises his voice.

Jewel lets go of Twila’s limb, spinning around with wide eyes to face him. “I don’t understand why you need to.” She crosses her arms, ready to reject any and every word that’s about to come out of his mouth.

Mattheo takes a sharp inhale, looking down at her standoffish. “I can talk to her if I want to.” He’s trying hard to keep his voice calm and relaxed despite her attitude, but she makes it extremely difficult to do so.

Twila places her hands softly on Jewel’s arm. “Jewel, it’s really fine. We-”

“No, it’s not fine.” She pulls her arm away from Twila’s hand with a disgusted look. “Are the two of you going out?” She sternly asks Twila specifically, not Mattheo.

Twila looks between her friend’s eyes and the grass around them, biting at her cheek. She may hold back from saying things to Jewel, but lying is something entirely different, something she knows to be useless, especially against a Slytherin like her.

“It’s not even any of your business.” Mattheo speaks up for Twila, but Jewel doesn’t give him the satisfaction of being acknowledged into the conversation.

Twila looks to her feet with a sigh. “Yeah.” She whispers.

The girl lets out a hum. “Did he tell you we dated?” DeLuna shifts in her spot, not sure how to answer her friend anymore and not knowing which of them to even look at. Jewel lets out a dry chuckle, taking her silence as a good enough answer. “Mattheo, how did the two of us break up?” She asks, now allowing Mattheo to speak.

His rage rises in his throat, irritation building with each of her petty and controlling words. He bites at his cheek for a moment, biting back the words he really wants to say, knowing anything he says will be used against him. So, he tells her the truth that she wants to hear. “You accused me of cheating.”

“Because you did.” She corrects him, whipping her head to look at him for the first time since they left the tent.

He looks off into the distance, chewing his cheek once more, but then closing his eyes with a slow exhale. Arguing goes nowhere with her, something he learned at a young age. “Yeah, I did.”

Jewel grimaces at him before turning back to Twila. “You can have him all you want, Twila. But don’t tell me I never warned you. Believe me, it’s only the beginning.” She says, then leaves the two.

Twila stands unmoving, looking up at him with an uneasy look.

Mattheo’s stomach twists at the sight of her face. “Twila..?” She itches her arms nervously, avoiding his gaze, which only fills him with more guilt. “Twila…” He reaches for her arm, squeezing gently.

“You never told me you cheated on her.” Her voice is shaky as it speaks to him.

He swallows hard, letting go of her arms. “I didn’t know how to say it…” She looks away from him still, so he decides it’s a better time than ever to tell her the truth, since Jewel obviously has no intention of doing so. “You know that Jewel’s, like- madly in love with Draco, right?” The Ravenclaw meets his eyes hesitantly. “You know that she’s always liked him, yeah?” Mattheo makes sure to confirm that they’re on the same page, following her face with pleading eyes.

“Yeah.” She whispers.

Hearing that she’s willing to give him a chance to explain eases his stress for the moment being, so he continues. “She’s always had a thing for Malfoy, but he started dating Pansy back in 4th year, around the time before Jewel’s mom passed away, and she wanted to make him jealous. But then they broke up and once Draco was back on the market, she stopped giving a rat’s ass about me. I didn’t call things off, because I assumed we were done. Believe me, we were barely a thing to begin with. You have to believe me, she never cared about me, not after- She just never actually wanted to be with me, okay?”

Her body pauses with a shiver. She can’t pretend to not have heard his slip up. “Not after what..?” She breathes out.

He swallows, biting his lips down and mentally kicking himself. “Not after this stupid thing that happened when we were younger…” He trails off, staring down at the dewy grass. “Look, I really can’t say more, but I’m sure Jewel will tell you all about that if she really wants to.”

Twila bites her lips together, a bitter feeling swelling up in the pit of her stomach. So many secrets the two of them have to keep from one another. Perhaps things wouldn’t work between them as well as she had hoped. Maybe it’s time to finally listen to Jewel’s advice.

She follows his eyes to the same patch of grass with regret. “Jewel’s my oldest friend, Mattheo…” She barely whispers, not even wanting to say what she’s implying.

“Twila, she uses you.”

But she shakes her head. “You don’t know all the things she’d helped me through.” So many more words she could say with that, but she can’t.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know that, but do you really think she sees you as her equal?”

She shakes her head once more. “It’s not up for debate. I like you, and I believe you, but I’m not losing her over this. Not when I barely know who you are and you can never tell me either.” The words pour out of her mouth faster than she can think, each word coated in hypocrisy.

Her words sting him, forcing him to look away. “I…” His voice falters, the words coming to a halt in his throat.

She thinks about all the things she felt with him. Though she meant what she said, she really doesn’t know anything about him, and yet she couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of familiarity with him, a feeling of understanding. They felt so similar, but alas she has no evidence of the truth behind this. Sure, he is exciting; Mattheo is the perfect forbidden fruit and she loves the chasing and hiding feeling. It gives her a rush… but is it enough?

Tears glaze her eyes, but she never lets them fall, biting down hard on her lip instead. She swallows down a rock hard lump in her throat, slowly backing away. “I’m sorry.” She whispers once more, before turning to pace away.

༺ ☆ ༻

‘I did it. Okay, Jewel. Whatever bad he and his family is, I promise it’s over and I want no part of it anymore. I trust you.’ 

The words she spoke to Jewel that night echo in her head, even when she’s trying everything to focus on the Potions book in front of her. Jewel, of course, accepted her back with open arms after apologizing for her actions towards the both of them. Then things seemed to go back to normal, at least on the outside, but on the inside a large hollow gap formed in Twila's chest, empty of thrill and excitement, and another feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She sighs, slouching in her chair, a boring day for potions class, unfortunately nothing hands on to distract her roaming mind. 

“Do you plan on paying attention the entire time?”

She looks up from the textbook to tilt her head annoyedly towards Draco. “I actually want to pass our classes.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning his head back against the cobbled wall. Luckily, their table is around the corner from the professor's desk, and the bubbling of a large potion in the center of class echoed over their voices, not that Slughorn would really care if he saw them talking anyway. “Such a Ravenclaw.” He grumbles out.

She playfully rolls her eyes right back. “Whatever. I’m not a complete killjoy.”

He chuckles, leaning forward with a smug smirk. “Then I suppose there should be more Ravenclaws like you then?”

“That wouldn’t make me so special then, would it?” She asks, a growing smirk on her face.

He raises an amused brow. “Like being special, do you?”

She shrugs. Being special and different is a feeling Twila has grown quite used to in her lifetime. But special in a good and admirable way, well, that’d be something, wouldn’t it? “It’s a nice feeling every once in a while, I’ll admit.”

Draco flips through the recipe pages with a chuckle. “Nothing wrong with that. I surely can relate.”

For the first time that day, she smiled, but that still didn’t solve the loneliness that was beginning to grow in her heart. Deep down, she knew that things would catch up to her and all that she’s built up so far would come knocking on her door with questions, and if she couldn’t answer them, she’d risk losing it all over again. The thought plagues her mind. Can she even find it in herself to trust again? And who could she tell?

She stays up late, contemplating her thoughts. The secrets would begin to eat her alive if she doesn’t find someone to confide in soon, and sadly, Snape would not be enough. There is only so much she can speak to him without risking her safety. She needs someone who will accept and understand her mistakes, someone unseeing of judgment. But even then, the words fear ever escaping her lips.

༺ ☆ ༻

Ominis chuckles over a story Sebastian tells him in the Charms classroom. The morning sun shines brightly through the window, a warm welcome to start the day. However, the boy then loses his smile when the latter Slytherin immediately asks to see his page of writing as Professor Flitwick enters through the door.

“Ominis, I’m serious. I completely forgot.”

“Don’t you always.” The blond sighs, scooting over the paper.

He hears another pair of footsteps enter after Flitwick, heavier ones, so obviously someone taller than the professor. The sound travels towards him, pulling out the chair and sitting next to him. Twila, it must be. He can also tell from her subtle scent of strawberries that’s often in her perfume. But something seems off today. In fact, something seemed off with her since the Sorting Hat incident, but he chooses not to press into her private matters again.

Flitwick goes about class as he normally would, then gives them half the class time to work on their next assignment, Sebastian barely having finished the first assignment before getting this new one piled on him.

Just then, Leander, a less than liked Gryffindor, spins around on his stool to face the reserved Ravenclaw sitting behind him. “So, Twila,” he begins mischievously, “care to show us your spellwork today?” He snickers, a few joining with him.

Ominis, typically only simply annoyed by the boy, now winces at Leander’s harsh words. He and Sebastian had naturally stumbled across the gossip of their Ravenclaw classmate, but never assumed these people were bold enough to blatantly say it to her face.

She rolls her eyes at his words with a deep breath and continues with her work to not satisfy his need for attention.

Both Sebastian and Ominis frown at her response, surprised, but also know that the power behind her restraint means experience. But Leander only chuckles, amused by her response. “I didn’t expect you would,” and he turns to face the front once more.

Twila stays quiet for the rest of class, even as Leander laughs at their exchange as he exits the classroom. She slowly packs up her things, face still neutral, but her eyes vulnerable.

Sebastian has to stop himself from saying something, reminding himself that Twila’s not going after his bait for a reason and it’s best not to cause a scene, at least not yet.

Sensing her defeated form, Ominis strides to catch up to her. “Are you alright?” The words cautious as he approaches her.

She glances his way, but her eyes drop back towards the floor. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her timid voice tells a different story.

The freckled Slytherin notices Ominis give a soft pout at her lie before coming up with an idea of his own. He clears his throat. “Say, Ominis and I had plans to grab butterbeers after class. Would you like to come with us?”

Her eyes widen slightly at his offer. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

With a smile, he chuckles. “You wouldn’t be intruding at all. It’d be nice to have someone new tag along.”

A small smile pulls at the side of her lip at his unexpected invitation. A distraction would be nice. Besides, she trusts the two enough. “I’ve never had butterbeer before.”

“You’ve never had butterbeer before?” Sebastian says with a mix of surprise and excitement. “C’mon, you’ll have a great time with us.”

Ominis is pleasantly surprised to already hear the lightness in her voice. “They’re fantastic. You’ll love them.” He smiles.

Twila follows the two towards the Three Broomsticks with a sudden good spirit building inside her. It’s a bit of a walk, but they make sure to keep her occupied with conversation and stories. Twila had never realized how silly the two of them are, nor how apparently rebellious Ominis can be, according to Sebastian’s tales. 

Her eyes glimmer as they walk through Hogsmeade, a cute and magical town, bustling with spells and knicknacks. They push through the doors of a building that’s shaped like a giant barrel, and as they do so laughter and music hits their ears instantly. It’s a warm atmosphere, one that can draw even the most grim in with a smile.

The three seat themselves at an empty table, where they are greeted by a worker. “Something to drink?”

“Three butterbeers please.”

Only seconds after, three glasses larger than both of Twila’s hands thud down on the wooden table, froth spilling over the sides. She eyes the drink curiously before leaning down to sniff it, its butterscotch and toffee like scents filling her nose immediately. She then takes both her hands to lift the chilled glass to her lips and takes a sip. The creamy flavor is first to touch her tongue, causing her to hum happily. When she sets the glass down, a small dollop of foam lingers on the tip of her nose, which she quickly rubs off using her sleeve. The three share a laugh, the boys happy to already see the girl’s mood become lighter just from the drink.

“So, how do you like the butterbeer?” Ominis chuckles out.

“It’s wonderful!”

They laugh with relief, each taking sips of their own butterbeers.

Glass now half empty and lips sticky from the bubbly beverage, Twila places the mug back down on the table. “So, how long have the two of you been friends?”

They both smile at the question. “We’ve been friends for quite a while. I think about 6 or 7 years now, right Sebastian?”

“Basically since the first day of school. We’ve been inseparable since.”

“Most of the time anyway.”

Twila can’t help but giggle anytime their casual bickering shows up in conversation. It reminds her of how she talks with Draco.

“So, Twila, what was life like in the U.S.?” Sebastian perks his arm up on the table, leaning into it as he sips his drink.

She smiles at his question. "Um, it was good, I guess. I live in the South, it's a very magical and colorful place and I miss it a lot. I have a friend there named Cirilo. He's a very... interesting wizard." She chuckles nervously.

Sebastian chuckles back. “How so?”

A blush forms on her cheeks. There are many things she can’t say about her friend back home. She purses her lips at her inability to just keep her mouth shut. “Um, he’s a collector of sorts.”

Ominis takes a sip of his butterbeer in silence, listening to the two speak.

“Well, what does he collect then? Come on, you have me interested now.” Sebastian leans in, face wide with a smile.

Twila laughs at Sebastian. “Gods, anything he can find really. I don’t even know the extent of it.” Vague, but a very true statement.

Sebastian chuckles slightly, taking another sip while staring down at the table with a thought. As he sets it down, he looks back over at Twila examining the way she speaks of the man. “So, is Cirilo, like… a special friend…?"

Twila nearly chokes on her drink, immediately setting down her glass. “Oh, no no. It’s not like that.” She clears her throat, hoping to get the rogue liquid from dripping into her windpipe. “We’re just friends.”

Sebastian smiles at her response, thinking she seems quite flustered at the assumption. “Just friends? Are you sure? Because you were blushing quite a bit there.”

Ominis furrows his brows at Sebastian’s behavior. He knows what he’s doing, remembering their little bet they made at the beginning of the school year. Ominis had nearly forgotten about it until now, and after becoming closer to Twila he realizes just how wrong it truly was.

She chuckles once more, blush brightening. “No, I promise. It’s not like that between him and I.”

Sebastian studies her for a moment. “Hmm… I don’t believe you.”

She can’t hold back her laughter anymore. “Well, I hope you start. Cirilo doesn’t date girls.”

Now it’s Sebastian’s turn to choke on his drink. “Oh.” He tries to think of ways to get himself out of the embarrassment of pestering her about the idea of liking someone that is completely uninterested in her. “So, there’s no one you have a crush on then? U.S. or Hogwarts?”

She blushes lightly, holding back the urge to drop her smile at the question, thoughts of Mattheo subconsciously swarming her mind. “No one at the moment…”

“Oh, come on. No one at all?”

“Sebastian, that’s enough.” Ominis suddenly intervenes.

His eyes narrow at Ominis, barely holding back his offense. “What? We’re just having a joke.” He attempts to laugh it off.

“We should head back to the castle.” Ominis suddenly orders, standing up from his chair and not letting Sebastian have another word.

The blond is met with a glare from the other side of the table. “Fine.” Sebastian grumbles, standing with him.

The walk back is awkwardly silent, all the way until Twila parts ways with them and returns to her common room. Only then does one of them speak up about what happened back in the restaurant.

“What the hell was that about?” Sebastian questions immediately once in the dark of the Slytherin dorms.

Ominis walks forward, basically disregarding the boy’s words. “I don’t want to speak about it.”

But Sebastian marches closely behind. “You surely wanted to in front of Twila. What’s changed now?”

“The deal is off. No more trying to ‘woo’ her.” He responds irritatedly, as if it should be obvious to the other.

Sebastian stops in his tracks, eyes narrowed in utter confusion at his friend's odd behavior. “What?! Why?”

“I’m done talking about this, Sebastian. The deal is over.”

[enchantinglyjade]

Rise of the Titans Chapter Two

Goddess!OC x Loki

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: Character death

-

“Come, Rodakina.”

A small, orange colored rabbit follows the girl through the woods, its coat nearly as bright as the child’s own curly hair.

Arali loves the tiny creature, almost as much as she loves all creatures, and has spent much time with it since she was only a small toddler. They loved to go everywhere together, going on many short adventures around the castle with one another. Her rabbit is the first thing the girl ever learned to love and nurture and she has followed such feelings ever since.

She has much in common with her Rodakina. A small rabbit is what the young girl has come to look like in the eyes of the gods. Though, Arali’s youthful mind is too oblivious to understand the insult, only focusing on how flattering it is to be compared to such an adorable little animal. However, she is not oblivious to the tone in which the other gods tend to say this to her, but she does her best not to think about it.

Arali is currently on one of her daily adventures, hoping to find an interesting branch or an odd colored rock. Though, it seems she has lost track of time, as night begins to fall over the head of the trees.

As a panic rises over her, she lifts her bunny to her chest, petting its soft fur to calm her nerves. Her mother would be looking for her soon and she would not take kindly to discovering that her Asgardian friend had taught her a handful of new tricks, like sneaking through the castle doors or adventuring without advising.

She turns to make her way back to the palace, but instead sees something aglow in the distance. Slowly, she stalks towards it, clutching her furry friend closer. A large blue willow tree stands in the center of the forest, its vines thick as if to heavily conceal something important underneath. Arali has never come across this before.

Pushing past the leaves, Aralia is met with a large tree stump, overhead are the willow branches, floating in place above the detached stump. Surrounding it is a small pond that illuminates her small form with a cyan hue. Feeling brave and curious, she lifts her dress, wading through the sallow water to the center stump. Upon reaching it, she finds a rock glimmering with an orange shine as it floats above the wood.

Enchanted, she sets Rodakina on a dry area on the sides of the tree stump, stepping closer to further examine the rock. She extends her arms, reaching for it, the rock illuminating even brighter as she tiny fingers draw closer and closer, bewitched by the sight, its orange glow shining in her green eyes.

As her hands hover beneath it, she gets a mild sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Confused, she almost pulls away, almost, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she pushes the feeling aside.

Just as she reaches it, the rock falters in the air, before dropping into her hands. Then, just like that, the forest goes completely black; the rock, nor the water bringing light to her eyes any longer.

“Rodakina!” she calls in fear, searching for her friend in the pitch dark. She pats the dry area surrounding the stump, but she is all alone.

Quickly, with tears in her eyes, she stomps back through the water, but it seems that it has extended and grown deeper than she last remembers. She grasps the stone tightly, holding it high above her head, as the water somehow reaches her chest, then her chin, before engulfing her entirely. Her lungs fight for air as she panics through the black water. Her feet kick, finding no trace of mud beneath it. Her arms flail forward, but her eyes can only hope that she is moving at all. Then, a miracle strikes and she finds her hands coming in contact with a patch of grass just within her reach. She pulls on the fragile blades, hurling herself out of the water and onto the forest floor once more.

Out of breath, she knows not what to do, but to run as far from the tree as possible. Her small bare feet pace through the trees, just barely missing their bulging and tangled roots. The tears from her eyes wash away with the lake water, soaking her white gown.

Arali breaks through the entrance doors, rock still in hand. She bolts for her room, but is only met with the sight of her mother sitting upon her bed waiting for her there. In a panic, Arali does the only thing she can think to do; she throws the orange stone in her mouth, holding it in place with her tongue. Her heart beats faster than ever, her small brain still processing the many recent events as her mother looks up to gaze down at her child.

“Where have you been, Arali? I was worried. And why are you soaking wet?” The Goddess Mother exclaims, standing from her spot.

She shrugs.

Gaia moves closer to her child, cautiously examining her. It is unlike Arali to be so quiet and it is clear to Gaia that there is a glint of fear in Arali’s eyes, not to mention her racing heart and out of breath lungs. “Are you alright?” She questions, her own heart beating anxiously.

She nods.

Gaia places her hands on her hips. It seems she will not get her daughter to budge tonight, but perhaps the morning will reveal her secrets. “Alright. Well then, let’s get you changed and cleaned up.”

Her mother strolls past her, expecting her to follow, but just as she turns, Arali quickly spits out the orange rock and hides it beneath her pillows. Something feels dangerous about the stone. She has to keep it a secret.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Arali paces back and forth in front of the window in the empty throne room. Rain droplets glide down the glass, as she stares into the gray sky. She never did see Rodakina again after that night and she knows not how to explain the incident to her mother, who has asked repeatedly what had happened to her friend. The only thing she can think to say is that it ran away, but she deeply misses having a loving companion by her side.

“Mama, when will Thor and Loki come back to visit?”

Gaia sighs from her seat by the window, placing down her book to instead gaze over at Arali’s sorrowful face. “Thor and Loki will not be coming back for a while.”

“Why?” Arali asks instantly, turning around in shock. Fear swarms in the child’s eyes, threatening to leak out upon hearing the news.

Her mother bites her lips together, debating how much to tell the young girl. “There are bad things happening outside these castle walls, my dear. It is unsafe for us to leave, and for our allies to visit. We must remain here for the time being, and they in Asgard.”

The young princess drops her face, looking to the ground, unsure of what to make of her mothers words. “You promise to finally read me that story tonight?” She cautiously asks, subconsciously aware of her mother’s weariness and desire to change the subject.

Gaia smiles lightly, “Of course, little one,” but there is much sadness hidden beneath her smile tonight.

The Earth goddess holds Arali’s hand guiding her to her bedroom. She sets her on the bed, holding both of her hands now, while looking into her eyes. “Stay here for a moment, I will be right back.” But instead of leaving right away, she holds her young one's face, cupping her puffy cheeks. Aralia furrows her eyebrows at her mothers odd behavior, but lets her hold her nonetheless. Gaia smiles at this, playing with a loose curl that had fallen into Arali’s face, before sighing and standing to make her way to the door. She turns one last time to gaze at her child, before finally exiting the room.

Arali sits, waiting patiently for her mother’s return. Her mother promised to read her the new book, and Arali is determined to hear it. It takes nearly an hour of waiting to pass before Arali decides she has had enough. How dare her own mother lie to her like that? Arali is sure her mother thought she would fall asleep while waiting for her and instead went off to have fun. Well, Arali wants to join the fun as well.

She jumps out of her bed, her feet landing with a loud crash. No, that couldn’t have been her feet that made that sound. But before she can give it a second thought, she cowers at the sound of screaming coming from the front of the castle.

Deciding to be brave like her friends, Thor and Loki, she hesitantly opens her door and makes her way out into the hallway. The palace smells different and the air is gray and foggy. The castle walls look bare and more empty than usual, the very ground feeling unsteady and unreliable. Something strange is about tonight. Arali pushes forward despite her fear and runs to the front of the palace, but soon realizes maybe she should not have.

A tall, muscular man stands in the center of the stone yard, confidently climbing the grand stairs. Though he is not nearly as big as her Titan brothers and sisters, Arali can’t help but cringe in fear when the man speaks. His voice booms across the lands as the sky flashes with light and roars with thunder, a frightening sight for any young one.

He notices the small child quivering in the distance and his eyes squint with a new sense of determination. He nods towards her and two hoplites stand behind her, pushing her forwards towards him. It is now that she notices her mother on the ground at the man’s feet. Her dress is ripped and torn, and her skin is stained with cuts and purple patches.

But then, the man leaves Gaia’s side and slowly marches to the young goddess. Arali shakes as her neck bends to look up at the man. “A small orange stone, do you have it, little one?” His blaring, menacing voice asks.

Arali knows what he is asking for, but seeing the fear in her mothers eyes in the distance makes her quite unsure of how she should answer. Luckily, Gaia knows her child quite well and speaks. “Please Arali, bring it to Zeus,” She confirms. Arali gulps at her mother’s defeated expression, but nods.

Zeus commands the two hoplites once more, “Follow her, but do not touch the stone.”

With that, Arali leads them back to where she should have stayed hiding, locked away in the safety of her room. She lifts her pillows to reveal an orange glow that fills the room with a powerful energy. She slowly grabs it, her fingers doing little to conceal the light that emerges from it, and brings it back outside. She approaches Zeus once more, her shaky fragile hands presenting him the item, which is barely any smaller than her two palms.

Zeus hums in satisfaction, reaching down to take the stone, but just before his hands can make contact, The Goddess Mother cries out. “Zeus, stop this! The stone demands a sacrifice, it won’t work for you.” Gaia shouts to him, causing his actions to pause.

The man, Zeus, ponders for a moment, a slight grin on his face as he peers over his shoulder at The Goddess Mother, but her words do not stop him for long however. Without a single thought more, he takes the stone from the girl's hands, the mighty glow ceasing upon his touch. He then presses the stone into the grand sword in his other hand, a perfect slot fixed into the metal to hold just an item as this, as he walks back to The Goddess Mother. “I am aware.” Is all he says, turning back to the hoplites with a demanding glare. “Bring her.”

Arali screams as she tries to run to her mother, hoping to make it to her before Zeus can, but the two hoplites grab a hold of her arms before she can run away. Her mother calls out her name raspily, but it does nothing to release her from the guards grasps. The man of lightning towers above Gaia, the creator of all the gods of Olympia. His sword is raised high in the air, flashing the sky with powerful white streaks as he yells a powerful battle cry. Arali uses all her strength to pull her arms away, jaw hanging open as the hoplites guide her past her mother. “Never forget you are a Titan.” Gaia yells with a calm dread in her voice, before she succumbs to the sword. With that, her mother’s eyes fall and her head drops, hanging lifelessly from her two shoulders.

A soldier throws the girl into his arms, holding down her legs to halt her kicking while she continues to thrash and cry, her eyes never leaving her mother’s fallen body. The hoplite walks her away from the scene, as she watches the rest of her empire burn before her, her family slain and her palace dust, nothing left but her memories of a once sacred home.

The soldiers take the child to the new kingdom, one that is built in the skies. Arali, under other circumstances, would have gawked in awe at the giant, gold and white palace that floats above the clouds, it is ethereal after all, but instead, the sight leaves her ill. The new castle is burdened with gray, stormy skies, dreaded with anger and hatred. This is no home.

Eventually, Zeus marches with her and the soldiers. The stone now glowing in the sword which drips with a thick crimson liquid. The God begins speaking with a powerful looking woman that Arali has never seen before. She is blonde and tall, just as regal as Zeus. Though, Arali doesn’t catch most of their words, for she is busy glaring at Zeus with a fueled hatred and lust for revenge.

“She is of direct descent from The Goddess Mother.”

“She is a child, and evidently does not possess any gifts. She is small and weak. It is nothing to freight over, Hera, my love.”

The woman, Hera, stares at the child, and the child stares back. “We cannot afford the chances. She should be dead with the rest of them. See to it.” She demands, before storming off, sandals clicking through the dark marbled hall.

Zeus watches her go, before turning back to the child, however with a plan of his own. “Guards, take her away.” 

The lightness in his voice both confuses and fills Arali with fear, but before she can think on it further, the two men take her arms in their hands, sharing a hidden understanding of their king’s demand.

Arali’s heart pounds as she only continues to thrash and cry. She is brought up a pair of poorly lit stairs to a dim and damp area of the castle, a lone room awaiting at the top. They stand in front of a thick metal door, one that looms above Arali’s small frame. A guard pulls out a long key, slipping it into a small port in the door with a metallic click. He presses his shoulder into the door and slowly pushes it open with a grunt. Once opened, the guards both push her inside, causing her to stumble to the ground.

Tears pour down Arali’s face as she reluctantly accepts her own doom, expecting them to slay her in a similar fashion to her mother, but to her surprise they slam the door behind her. She looks up at the door as the key switches back in place, unknowing that they would leave the lock to stay for decades to come.

[enchantinglyjade]

˚₊‧⁺˖✮---𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑀𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝑜𝑔---✮˖⁺‧₊˚

Hello!

My name is Jade. I'm a neurodivergent writer and I primarily write fanfiction.

I love music and daydreaming, eating, traveling, and napping. Sometimes I post late, but I'm always working on something!

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∘₊✧──𝒞𝓊𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝐹𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓂𝓈──✧₊∘

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∘₊✧──𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒮𝑜𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝑀𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈──✧₊∘

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Updated 03.11.2025

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Seven

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: None

-

Wednesday morning is much of a surprise to Twila.

“Twila! Twila! Wake up!”

Multiple hard knocks awaken the girl from her slumber with a jolt. Her heart pounds with every worst case scenario as she flops out of bed, her blanket, of course, deciding at this exact moment to get wrapped around her ankle and nearly trip her on her way to the door. She swings open her dorm door with heavy breaths, kicking the blue blanket angrily to the side, only to peer down at a pair of first years.

“They put frogs in the lavatory!” The shorter one yells, despite only being a few inches away.

Twila takes a slow blink, allowing time for her brain to catch up to speed and wrap around what’s happening just now.

“Come quickly!”

She lazily drags behind the two girls out of the common room and downstairs to the nearest girls bathroom. The prefect rubs her eyes with a groan as the sunlight hits her face from a window on the closest wall, but she stops at the sound of a ribbit. 

Ribbit Ribbit

She drops her hands, staring at the wooden door with caution. She looks to the two girls, who only part way for her as she walks forward. Twila places a hand on the door, already able to feel the chaos without even needing to see it. With a deep breath, she pushes the door open, coming face to face with green and yellow toads flying back and forth, and up and down across every feasible surface. The last thing she expected this morning was a trip to a swampy bathroom, quite literally this time.

A particularly large toad launches forward through the door frame, causing the three girls to scream as they jump out of its path. Unfortunately, a handful of the amphibians take inspiration from this and follow suit, causing them to spill out into the halls, now gaining the attention of other nearby students.

“Cast Evanesco on them, I forgot my wand.” Twila says with a groan, tiptoeing around the small creatures. 

The two first years look at her in shock at her request to cast a fifth year level transfiguration spell on the toads, but they try their hardest anyway. But Twila hardly notices their struggles, especially not when a certain blond prefect is laughing his ass off at the end of the hall.

“Malfoy.” She grits her teeth, approaching with a less than happy expression.

The boy puts on the best innocent face he can muster through his suppressed laughter, eyes feigning surprise as she stops in front of him. “Oh, hello, Twila. How are we this morning?” The two other boys, Blaise and Theo, snicker from beside him.

Twila crosses her arms. “Oh, just great actually.” She responds sarcastically.

Draco keeps himself from smiling. “I’m glad you’re doing well. What’s got you out of bed this morning?” He says taking a moment to peek down at her sweater and plaid pajama shorts in contrast to all the black cloak uniforms surrounding her.

She takes note of this as well, but pretends not to care. “Just out for my usual morning stroll.” Her voice still drips with sarcasm, making it clear she knows exactly who's behind this situation.

The blond puts on a dumb smile, nodding his head in revelation. “I see. I’m sure it’s wonderful taking a stroll this early in the morning.”

“Oh, it’s just my favorite. The things you see, you know?” Twila matches him with an equally fake smile.

The urge to laugh is quite a challenge for Draco at this point. “Oh, I totally get what you’re saying. You really get to see nature in a whole new way. Truly the highlight of every morning.”

“Emphasis on the nature part.”

A hint of aggression surfaces in her voice in her last sentence, but Draco decides to push her just a little bit further. “Right. So, why are there toads in the bathroom anyway?”

“Draco, I’m gonna kill you.”

A small chuckle finally escapes his throat, finding himself very amused at how this plan worked out. “Now, now, Twila. Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction. It’s just a few lousy toads.”

She groans dramatically, turning away to see that the first years managed to clean up all the toads by now. Then, she raises a warning finger at him. “I’m going back to sleep. Leave me alone.” She warns, but he can see the small smirk pull at her lips before she walks away.

Unfortunately for Twila, she has no choice but to stay up now. Classes will start too soon and she still has yet to get dressed. Lucky for her, the day would go on as any normal Wednesday would. Care of Magical Creatures with the girls. Charms with Celia, Ominis, and Sebastian. History of Magic, where she is unfortunately dragged behind Jewel the entire time without the ability to mutter as much as a single word to Mattheo, who Jewel makes sure to sit on the other side of the room from.

Arithmancy, however, is odd this time around.

She sees him again, Tom. She’s alone for the first time today and stuck in a room with the very person everyone has now told her to stay away from. Even his own brother has warned her against him. She keeps hearing Mattheo’s words play out in her head from last night. As much as she’s been told to feel scared of him, she only feels frustration. Why won’t anyone give her an explanation? People love to get on her back for her secrets and yet everyone seems to be doing the same to her. Is she just supposed to trust that she’s currently sitting 10 feet from the most ‘vile’ man in the school just because of a few rumors? Sure he doesn’t seem like the most talkative and friendly of people, but Twila is no stranger to being seen as the weird outcast. Then again, Mattheo and Draco never did tell her that Tom’s dangerous per se... So maybe there’s another reason they want her to stay away.

Regardless, she decides to be adamant about avoiding his gaze, just in case.

༺ ☆ ༻

Annoying Draco during dinner is a new favorite pastime for the girls, much to his dismay, especially while his other friends like Blaise and Theo are present. Though, Draco just learns to ignore the girls until dinner ends at this point. 

“Ready?” Twila suddenly greets him.

The girls stop themselves from exiting the Great Hall, looking back at their friend as she stands in front of Draco. “Aren’t you coming, Twila?” Jewel asks.

“Can’t.” She smiles fakely. “Draco and I are assigned to the clock tower tonight.”

Draco’s brows furrow at this, before his face drops in remembrance. “Damn.” He mutters under his breath. He stands with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with, Ravenclaw.”

He grumbles his way out of the Great Hall, not bothering to wait for Twila as she walks not too far behind him. As the commotion of the dining area dies out, their footsteps echo throughout the greater silence of the giant halls. She rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t act so grim. I don’t exactly wish to spend my night like this either.”

He laughs fakely at this, continuing forward as he speaks to her over his shoulder. “I’ll try my best, but I’m not exactly feeling peppy and cheerful tonight.”

She scoffs. “Oh, trust me, I know the feeling. You wouldn’t believe the morning I had.” She says through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing at the back of the boy's head as they make their way up the endless stairs.

Now his smirk turns genuine.

As the sun finally sets, the two students find themselves surrounded by incredibly sized spinning cogs, and grinding metal gears. The area is dimly light, only allowing the shine of the moon that comes through a giant stained glass clock face, embroidered with golden roman numerals. About a hundred winding, wooden stairs lead down to the cemented floor of the courtyard, a multiple ton pendulum swinging just above it. It swooshes and creaks with every literal second that passes by, filling the strangely eerie room with its sound. 

Twila stares up and down between the high ceiling, and the low drop beneath them, taking in each metallic whir with a sigh. “So, this is our night?” She asks rhetorically, looking around with already bored growing eyes as the two of them stand in the tower shaped grandfather clock.

Draco’s eyes try their best to make out their surroundings in the darkness of the tower, looking for nothing in particular. “I suppose it is.” He says just as dull as he is feeling. With a sigh, he makes his way to a nearby wall and leans against it lazily. “Can’t get much worse than this.” He mutters.

Though, Twila already finds herself too busy with something to hear him. Her feet step down to the next level, walking over to the clock face. Patterns of blues and yellow reflect down onto her face, the moon’s light overtoning her and the room with a pale coloring. She stands on the stone frame, coming close enough to run her fingers along the thick, cold glass.

He watches her from across the platform with narrowed, but just as curious of eyes, feeling almost annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him.

She walks slowly across the wooden planks, hands behind her back, but her head high as she searches the tower for something she’s never seen before. The night will feel slow, that’s for sure, but she is persistent on entertaining herself however possible, even if it means finding joy in the little things. She also can’t help but notice how dead, yet private this part of the castle is. She’ll have to remember this for another time.

Draco taps his foot, twiddling with his fingers as each creaking sound of her footsteps against the floorboards only pushes him further into his irritation. As Twila returns to their original level, she passes by him once more, still allowing silence to fill the space between them and continues exploring the castle with a light hum of a song. Draco lets out a deep breath, watching her in the corner of his eyes. Suddenly, she stops short in front of a new hallway, standing on her tiptoes in an attempt to look down it. Draco pushes himself off the wall and takes a small and quick peek down the hall as well, but returns to his previous bored stance before she can notice. But before Draco can even get comfortable again, Twila is carelessly making her way down the hall, leaving him and the designated patrol area behind.

Naturally, this earns a groan from the blond, making him get back up again and follow her annoyedly. “And where the hell do you think you’re going?” He confronts angrily, only a few steps behind her.

However, he quickly finds that Twila’s curious nature makes her completely unfazed by his attitude and that she is too unapologetic to care. “What’s that room?” A large wooden door at the end of the hall stares back at the girl, its frame marbled with intricate designs.

“Are you always this damn nosey? For god’s sake, you’re like a cat.” He huffs as he now stands beside her before his face twists with a mocking grimace as he recognizes the door in front of them. “It’s a bathroom.”

“Why is it so fancy?”

“It’s for prefects.”

“So… we get our own special bathroom…?”

“Yes, you get to share your own personal bathroom with the other 20 prefects. Now are you done fantasizing about the toilets?”

She stares at the door for a moment again. It can’t just look like any old bathroom if it has to be locked away from the other hundreds of students. There has to be something different. “Well, hell, I wanna see what’s in there!”

“It’s a toilet! Can we please go back to doing our job?”

He watches in disbelief as she silently crosses her arms. With a sigh and shake of his head, he looks away, ready to guide them back into the clock tower.

“No.”

Then, she’s racing down the hall, her school robes fanning out behind her as she paces towards the door.

Draco has half a second of amazement before he’s chasing right after her. She pushes open the door, not bothering to wait for the boy behind her, and letting it nearly slam in his face before he catches it with the palms of his hands just before. She’s met with the unexpected, looking around in awe at the giant, pool-like bathtub in the center of the room, lined with about a hundred gold faucets. The walls stand with plenty of paintings and golden panel moulding and trims, but the pool is the real eye catcher here. Definitely not any old bathroom.

“Are you done obsessively haunting the bathroom now?”

Twila is certain she’ll turn into a mermaid in here. “Just a bathroom, Draco? This is insane!” Her jaw hangs open as she, obviously, has to touch every single golden and shiny faucet in sight, leaving tiny finger prints on each one. “I’m going to spend every night here.”

“You’re absolutely mad, you know that, right?”

She’s now on her knees, swishing her hands back and forth across the warm water’s surface, watching as ripples trail behind her fingertips. However, she cautiously retreats her hand as she realizes the depth of the water. Would something be underneath? This is a wizarding school afterall. She half expects a dragon to pop out from underneath the bath water. She eyes down into the dark water with squinted eyes, awaiting something magical.

He rolls his eyes at her odd fascination, fighting off the very, very small part of him that almost wants to join her. However, he decides that enough is enough and speaks up one last time before he’s going to decide to leave her behind. “Can we be done now? Have you seen enough toilets to be satisfied until tomorrow?”

“Fine.” She huffs as she shakes the water from her hands, standing from her place off the floor. They exit the room together and make their way back down the portrait lined hall, at least 50 or so paintings moving to watch them as they approach the clock tower once more, but instead of its usual hums and ticks, they hear a clamoring coming from the stairs above.

“Will you just listen to me!”

“That’s enough! I know what I’m doing.”

Draco immediately recognizes both of the voices, but Twila can only pick up Mattheo’s. Soon enough, two boys come stomping down the stairs, still heated from their argument when they spot Draco and Twila standing together. Twila suddenly makes direct eye contact with Tom as his eyes fill with surprise then determination as he marches up to the two of them. “And just what are the two of you doing out?” He says menacingly. 

Draco scoffs quietly under his breath. “We’re partoling.” He answers simply.

However, before another word can be said, they hear two more voices come from beneath their wooden platform.

“Sebastian, this is a bad idea.”

“Come on, Ominis. Not even just one round? I know you know how to duel, despite how often you deny it.” The second boy says with a laugh as he looks around at all the Crosswands dueling equipment.

Tom’s head spins as he glares down beneath them into the courtyard. He lets out a hum, murmuring something quietly. Then, in an instant, he’s making his way down the stairs, ready to scold the two boys below. The other three stare at one another before  following only feet behind him, curious how the scene will play out. Tom stands before Ominis and Sebastian, who both are equally as frightened as they are confused to see the room suddenly as full as it is. And just before Tom can speak, he is yet again interrupted by even more company. The group continues to grow as one blonde, one red head, and one brunette pile in through the door, laughing while carrying a familiar, but forbidden object.

The three girls freeze in place as they see the room as already more than occupied, eyes wide and alert, especially noting that Tom is in the room. Nervously, Penelope swishes the object behind her back with a stressed laugh. “Hey, girl.” She greets Twila with a stiff wave.

The boys turn to look between her and the American in either confusion or annoyance, causing Twila’s pores to start to sweat with nerves. “Hey.” She greets back quietly, unsure if she should dare move a muscle right now or not. Regardless of fear or not, Tom is Head Boy and therefore in charge of everyone in the room, including Twila and Draco even as Prefects, and something tells Twila that Tom is more than willing and able to use that power.

But then, a wide and confident smile appears on Jewel’s face. She steps forward, the clacking of her kitten heels making heads turn back towards her. “Damn,” She starts, having the bravery to waltz to the center of the circle. “You said you were patrolling the clocktower. I didn’t expect… all of this.” Jewel seems to be the only one unfazed and unintimidated by the situation at hand, not caring one bit that Tom is present. She immediately walks to Twila, standing between her and the boys as a shield. “So, what’s going on here?” She asks no one in particular, staring down the familiar men.

“You’re all out past curfew, is what.” Tom spits out, but his eyes seem to be directed at Jewel more than anyone, glaring at her with what Twila could almost sense as hatred, which only flourishes the questions in her head. Penelope shifts in her spot, making an echoed scrape sound with her shoes and drawing Tom’s attention once more. “What do you have?” He demands, peering down at the large leather object that peeks around her legs.

“Nothing.”

“How dumb do you truly think I am, Gryfindor? I could go straight to Dumbledor with this.” He threatens with his face ever so serious.

Penelope crosses her arms in annoyance. “Well, can you do it in about 10 minutes? I went through hell to get this.” And just like that, she unveils the stolen Sorting Hat and places it upon her head, caring less if the room sees it now. While completely ignoring the Slytherin’s, Penelope smiles widely as she looks up at the brim of the hat. The Sorting Hat’s face scrunches to life, its rim moving in a wave-like manner as it makes its assessment. “Miss Cassoway, you must be tired of this by now.” It speaks out loud to her. “You are still a Gryfindor and just as much of a nuisance as you were the first time you stole me.”

She disappointedly removes the hat with a visible pout, before looking around for the next victim.

“‘Nelope, you really should put that back.” Jewel warns but with a laugh in her voice, still watching as she passes it on to Celia now.

“Yeah, you should really listen to your leader.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

The hat relaxes as it’s placed on Celia's head. “Miss Mulberry, you are just as bright as I remember and your kindness is ever growing, but not all deserve your patience, remember this.” Celia’s face drops in contemplation at the object's unexpectedly deep words. She has an idea what this can mean, but she is quiet to reveal it to the group, choosing instead to remain silent and let her friends do as they will.

Sebastian and Ominis stand with their jaws slightly hanging open, beyond overwhelmed at the amount of things that have taken place in the last minute or so. They are unfamiliar with most of the people in the room and debate sneaking away while everyone’s distracted, but they both know it is likely Tom will notice.

Penelope is still just as ecstatic and skips over to bring the hat to Twila now. The ravenclaw feels a huge rush of embarrassment from the whole ordeal, seeing as the boys are less than amused as they watch the red head carelessly throw around the stolen object. “Penelope, please,” her voice at a whisper. 

“Oh, it’ll just be quick, then I’ll go return it or whatever.” 

The large hat is surprisingly light on her head, she hardly recalls her first meeting with the object even if it was only a few months ago.

“Ah, Twila DeLuna. I remember you.” The hat sounds as if it were smiling as it speaks this to her. Twila holds her arms insecurely as everyone’s eyes watch her and the hat’s interaction. “The intelligence and creativity of a Ravenclaw, the charm and ambition of a Slytherin; a dangerous and confusing combination indeed. You are a powerful witch, Miss DeLuna. People will either respect or fear you; it is your choice to make.”

Twila’s eyes widen at the hat’s words and quickly reaches up to remove it from her head. “What a silly little thing.” She laughs it off and hands the sentient object back to Penelope with her cheeks bright red with fluster and insecurity.

“Are you done playing dress up now?” Draco suddenly speaks up to the girls, but keeps Twila in the corner of his eye, giving her a once over from the hat’s statement.

Penelope rolls her eyes, exiting the room with the hat in hand while Celia follows quickly behind. Jewel takes a slow look at some of the boys, before linking arms with Twila and leading her forward and out without another word, only a small smirk on her face.

The boys stand silently and awkward in the slightly less crowded room, when Tom then clears his throat. He takes one glare around the room, then just like that, he’s gone as well.

༺ ☆ ༻

Twila tries her best to shake off the hats’ words from last night, but deep down she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. They’re not new words for her, she had been told similar ones when it first assessed her before coming to Hogwarts, but they still have her just as troubled.

She pulls on a dark blue, long sleeve shirt, popping her black robes over it as she paces out the door to D.A.D.A. She plops in her usual seat with a short sigh, allowing herself to catch her breath after descending the many, many stairs of her common room’s tower. 

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” Draco studies her face with a fake look of disgust.

She turns to him unamused, before letting out a quiet groan, continuing to remove her books from her bag. But before they can speak any further, Snape calls for the students' attention, briefing them with a small history lesson before he prepares them with a spell.

“Wands. Up.” He demands, looking down upon the sitting students.

Draco grabs his wand as instructed with a huff, lazily and boredly leaning back against his chair as he awaits for the professor's next word.

“Twila.” Snape suddenly says. She raises her head to meet her professor’s eyes, everyone else's now on her as well. Snape tilts his head towards the back of the room. With a small gulp, Twila embarrassingly stands, taking a seat in an empty desk near the back with her book, where she then begins writing, trying hard to ignore the judgemental and assuming gazes she can practically feel on her.

Twila’s heart beats quickly but she attempts to tune it out through her writing, but her shaky pen proves difficult. She knows she’ll get an earful of this after class and she needs to think of an excuse as soon as possible. Of course this would happen now. She saw this coming, she made a deal after all. But for Snape himself to embarrass her like this after everything she’s told him. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel completely humiliated right now, especially with Malfoy watching.

Draco watches her with curious and confused eyes. Professor Snape raises his wand, the other students following. Draco does so cautiously, but his head never turns to face away from Twila. He squints, as if to try and question her with his eyes. He is the last person Twila wanted to have to see this, let alone explain it to. Twila attempts to warn him away, but she is too late, Professor Snape loudly slaps his hand on Draco’s book to snap his attention forward once more. Snape’s eyes flicker over to Twila for a brief second, almost threatening her with something, before turning back to his class.

Nearing the end, Snape, for once, lets the class pack up early, but only because he has reason to. “Two rows on my desk by the beginning of next week, all of you.” The class leaves with moans and groans of protest, but Snape thinks little of it. He picks something from his desk, walking it over to Twila in silence. She takes the envelope in his hand cautiously as he walks away, his long cloak making him appear as if he’s gliding across the floor.

She reads it quickly, making sure to shield it from any lookers, then walks out into the hall, of course, a certain boy already waiting for her just outside the door, ready to walk her to Potions. “What was that all about?” Draco questions.

“It’s just new student things.” She says with a sigh, tucking away the letter.

He rolls his eyes. “About? Have you opened the envelope? What is it?”

Twila groans in exhaust. It’s just like when they first met all over again. “It’s a love letter from your father.” She responds sarcastically.

He lets out an annoyed chuckle. “Come on, be honest with me.”

“It’s nothing, Draco.” She says, her tone growing slightly impatient now. She has enough going on, she doesn’t need his prying on top of it.

Twila’s eyes squint, noticing traffic outside the Potions’ door. She peeks over the shoulder of one of her classmates, eyeing what Professor Slughorn has in store. Each student that walks through the Potions’ door is handed a tray assorted with different ingredients. 

“Ah, here you go. You two will work together. And same for you two.”

Professor Slughorn hands Twila a tray, pointing her and Draco together as they enter the room. Draco responds with a quick ‘ugh’ before picking out a table for them near the window. “Come on, DeLuna. This way.”

He reads the instructions, purposefully only giving her a handful of tasks he thinks she’ll be able to handle while he does the rest. He pours in a vile of a purple liquid, mixing the pot while he reads the next step again. In the corner of his eyes, he notices Twila struggling with something. She’s carefully assessing the best way to hold the spine of lionfish, poking her fingers through its small and sharp bones. Once she has a clean grasp on it, she snaps it in half. Draco cringes at the sound, immediately putting down the parchment he’s holding in irritation. “I told you to powder the spine, not crack it!”

“I thought you said to powder the other stuff!” She exclaims, putting down the broken spine.

He narrows his brows at her vague words. “It’s called dittany and you can’t powder leaves, you idiot.”

“I mean… if it’s dried-”

“Powder the spine!”

He pushes forward with the potion, but keeps her in the corner of his eye. She’s acting odd today. Normally, she’s on top of her game. If anything, the Ravenclaw’s usually looking for excuses to show off to anything and anyone. Is it something to do with the Sorting Hat, or something more? “Did you and the girls have fun with your little dress up, slumber party last night?” He jokes.

“I had nothing to do with that.” She claims, pressing her pestle against the finely crushed bones in her bowl, cheeks turning rosy in remembrance.

“Right, of course.” He chuckles to himself, dipping in the ladle to mix the ingredients. He eyes her for a moment again, his sarcastic attitude slightly slipping away. “Are you sure you’re alright today?”

She quickly composes herself as she realizes he’s taken notice, letting out a soft sigh and still keeping her eyes on the mortar in her hands. “Yeah, I was just thinking about taking a bath later.”

Draco pauses, off guard for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “I’m being serious. I know you’re not actually thinking about taking a bath.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m going to bathe in that tub, Draco.” She says in all seriousness, placing down the bowl to look up at the boy.

He looks her up and down, face slowly contorting in confusion. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“It’s a magical bubble bath! Sorry, not all of us have pool sized baths in our homes.” She exclaims.

“Ah, the poor.” He says with a smirk.

“Ah, the normal.” She corrects.

He rolls his eyes once more, making room for Professor Slughorn to come and check their work. He leans over the cauldron, clapping his hands together with a smile as he sees the foamy bubbles he mentioned as a necessary component to the finished potion.  “Ah, excellent as usual. You’re both dismissed.”

Draco grabs his bag with a smirk, catching up with Twila on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. “So, tell me, is this bubble bath before or after the date with my father?”

༺ ☆ ༻

That night, Twila finds herself in the library. She quietly weaves through the desks and chairs, up to the librarian's desk. She discreetly shows her the pass and gets escorted to the section of the library secured and gated with thick iron bars.

“You have five minutes. No touching. I will know.” Madam Pince warns, opening the gates for the Ravenclaw.

Twila steps inside, descending down the stairs to the main level. There were plenty of interesting looking books; some with faces, ones with chains, others with intricate, glowing designs, but she is forced to walk past them and pretend to not be the slightest bit intrigued. She pulls out the note Snape gave her earlier. Heinous Healing: How to Heal the Broken. Quite the name. She searches the shelves for the familiar title, seeing nothing of the sort just yet.  “Damn.” She curses under her breath. How is she supposed to find the book in under five minutes when this place is ginormous?

She glances at the note once more, spinning on her toes to next check the shelf behind her, but when she looks up, she comes face to face with Tom Riddle himself,

alone with her in the Restricted Section.

Twila gasps loudly, whole body tensing in shock as she sees him towering above her, his face completely unreadable.

He glances down at the letter in her hand. He recognizes the book title, even while reading it upside down. He also eyes the inked lines of what would be a signature at the bottom of the paper, but, to his dissatisfaction, her thumb is covering the name of the teacher who signed it, though he has a guess. Tom turns and walks up to one of the tall shelves against the wall. He scans it boredly, before his eyes land on a yellowish brown book, picking it off the shelf and handing it to her in silence. 

She cautiously takes it from his hands before glancing back up at him. “Thank you.” She barely whispers and quickly paces back up towards the entrance without muttering another word, leaving him there now alone.

Madam Pince sits at her desk, making eye contact with Twila as she takes a mental note that she has now left the Restricted Section.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Six

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous |Next Warnings: Swearing, and a little spice

-

“I heard one of the Slytherin dorms got broken into. Did you see who it was, Jewel?”

Twila glances across the breakfast table at the mentioned girl, head heavy with last nights’ activities. Her heart flutters with excitement, waiting anxiously to see Mattheo again today. But as she looks at Jewel, she can’t help but feel a guilty sensation bubble up in the pit of her stomach. She had told Jewel only a few days ago that her small gestures towards Mattheo meant nothing, but it has surely and quickly grown into something. Would her best friend hate her for hiding a secret like this?

Jewel’s un-amused gaze lifts up from her glass of water to instead peer over at Penelope. “No, some of us don’t participate in house drama. I’m just practicing my spells in case whoever thinks I’m next.” She chuckles.

Penelope groans at her. “But the house drama is the best part! Just last week, one of the Gryffindors tried to use the engorgement charm on- oh shit, Snape’s coming. Disperse.” Just as she says this, the girls quickly grab their food and rise from the Ravenclaw table before returning back to their own. 

Snape trudges past the table, stopping short in front of the last remaining girl who is now surrounded by three empty seats. “Twila.” He slowly enunciates.

She sits up straighter, placing her hands in her lap. “Profes-,” But then the sound of the bell ringing fills the Hall, dismissing everyone from their breakfast. The students are quick to leave their dirtied plates, which the house elves apparate to and clean up with haste.

Snape glances around the now completely empty table before clearing his voice and continuing. “Actually, Twila, I had something I needed to give to you.” She perks up at this, slowly standing from her spot to allow a house elf to swipe her plate, as she watches the man reach into his coat pocket. He directs the paper towards her, which she takes gently, before she glances down to read it; a pass to the restricted section. “I believe it would be beneficial if we were to both research this… subject.” 

Twila gives him a gentle bow of her head. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Now you must understand, this pass will not be used for inappropriate reasons. You are to get the books you need then return to your regular studies. No… ‘dilly dallying’.” He nasalizes, a grimace growing on his lip from the very phrase. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, Professor Snape.” Twila bites back the urge to smile, ideas already growing in her head as to what she might find down there.

“Good. Now, quickly to your next class.”

༺ ☆ ༻

Twila scurries through the halls with her other classmates until finding herself entering her regular Charms class, where she happily seats herself between Ominis and Celia once again. Professor Flitwick provides his students with a short lecture regarding a passage from their assigned reading, but something is different this time.

Twila’s begins to bounce her leg as her nerves begin to fry. This is it. Today must be the day. Then, she finally hears those words she’s been dreading for so long.

“Alright, wands up.”

Just at the small request, she feels all the excitement and courage she had been working up since arriving on the train simply dissipate into thin air. 

The short statured professor makes eye contact with her and clears his throat in an awkward fashion before shuffling his way over. “Miss DeLuna, please come this way.” He says quietly.  She finds herself sweating as all eyes follow her, watching as she gets seated in the back of the class with her notebook.

“Alright, class. Repeat after me.”

Twila is all but humiliated as her classmates periodically glance her way, looking at her in ways she had hoped to never be looked at ever again.

Celia stops Twila on their way out once the lesson is over. “Why did Professor Flitwick put you in the back of the class?” 

Twila snaps herself out of her daze, trying her best not to let her embarrassment show through to her face. “Oh, just transfer student things. I’m working with some of my professors as a sort of precaution, just so they know where to place me in my studies.” Technically not a lie.

Celia nods with an ‘ah’.

However, Twila is quick to bid her friend a goodbye to avoid any further questioning, leading her to a more comfortable class that doesn’t contain someone she knows luckily. But as she sits, she shivers, sensing a pair of eyes on her in particular. She glances up from her runes assignment, coming eye to eye with a boy across the room. He’s tall, even when sitting down, and has dangerously sharp eyes. Never has she felt such an intense and powerful stare. Despite this, he is quiet, adding more to his threatening yet somehow charming demeanor. She recognizes the boy from one of her other N.E.W.T. classes.

Even though she finds herself vulnerable under his gaze, it takes strength to look away. When she does, she nearly forgets where she is. She shakes her head, slowly gaining back control of her conscious mind and goes back to writing on her parchment. What an odd thing that just happened, she thinks. 

The Ravenclaw is last to leave, as usual, unable to help herself as she scribbles down some last remaining thoughts onto her paper before handing it to the professor, who is always excited to see a young student’s enthusiasm over a subject. She gathers her things with an exhausted huff, but is quickly silenced when she makes contact with a body just outside the door.

“Ah, I’m so- rry…” Her voice trails off when she sees just who she is speaking to. Now that he’s standing in front of her, she realizes just how much his mere presence is enough to make her struggle to find words. Something about him is powerful, anyone can see that. He just stares down at her. She clears her throat, hugging her books tightly. “Sorry.” She repeats, her words still quiet.

He looks at her with a bit of curiosity, seeming to study her entire body language. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he could read her mind, but no one their age can do that. Most anyway. “Have we met before?” He asks bluntly, his face nearly unmoving and his eyes yet to blink.

Twila’s eyes widen in shock upon hearing him speak. His voice is soft, monotone, yet sophisticated, but just as danger filled as the rest of him. She takes a moment to once again compose herself before shaking her head. “No, I don’t think we have.”

His ears immediately pick up on her American accent. “...Are you new here?”

“Um, yes. I just transferred here from Ilvermorny.” She answers shyly, hoping that’s where the conversation would end, but of course it does not.

“Oh, I see…” He says, again noting her physical social cues. “And why did you transfer? Does your family reside in the U.K. now?”

She hesitates again, mind racing to find any of the default phrases Snape wrote for her. The lies. “Um, no. I’m only here for my last year before going back home to America.”

However, the boy is barely convinced by this answer, finding it extremely strange actually. “You transferred for just one year?”

Now Twila knows she has dug herself a hole here. That was definitely not a part of the story that Snape told her to say. She nervously shrugs. “I received good grades back in Ilvermorny and one day they reached out to me with the opportunity. Apparently, Hogwarts has more… enriched classes for my skill set.”

For the first time, Twila sees the boy ever so slightly raise an brow of interest at her words. “And what abilities would those be?”

“Well…” She can feel herself begin to panic. Why does this guy care so much anyway? “Well- Hogwarts is an older school so they have more research packed into their classes. I find myself particularly drawn to Runes and Divination, both subjects not being as popular in the west as they are here.” Her stomach drops with a feeling of disappointment. She had gone off script. Now she has made herself a target twice today, the very thing she was warned not to do.

The boy seems just as confused by her words as she is, narrowing his eyes at her in suspicion. “Runes and Divination.” He repeats, suddenly letting go of his previous emotions to allow his face to fall into its normal glare. “I take it then, you’re interested in the dark arts?”

Her eyes perk up at his last words, a familiar, caught off guard vulnerability in them. “Hmm?” Is all she can manage out.

He continues to stare blankly at her. He has her cornered. “I asked if you’re interested in the dark arts.” He asks plainly.

She blinks away her shocked expression, attempting to compose herself more. She lets out a nervous laugh. How does one answer this? “Um, I find the class interesting at times, I suppose.”

He nods unhurriedly, and Twila can swear she almost sees a hint of a pull at his lips. “Hm, I’ll see you around, Twila.” He states tonelessly. 

Twila’s brows furrow in confusion.  How does he know my name? And it seems as though he understands her confusion as he glances downward. She follows his eyes to one of the notebooks in her arms, large print on the very front cover: ‘Twila DeLuna.’ Oh. “Sorry, I never got your na-,'' But when she looks up, he’s gone.

༺ ☆ ༻

After fourth period, she and Ominis make their way to dinner after a long and silent study session in the library like they always have. Twila insists that she is just very focused on her studies, but after Ominis overhears their Transfiguration teacher pull her to the side instead of allowing her to work on a spell for a second time today, he is all but suspicious.

Ominis and Twila walk to the Great Hall together for dinner, however she is quick to separate from him as they walk in, just in time before Jewel notices and calls her over. Jewel is seated at the far end of the Slytherin table with Celia, and Penelope, with a more than irritated Draco between them, picking at his food while they talk. His mood doesn’t enlighten any further once he sees Twila has now joined the mix as well.

After sifting through most of her food, however, Jewel stands up from the table.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Penelope asks, taken aback by their friend’s sudden abandonment.

“I have to get back to clean my dorm, got a bit messy this weekend. Can’t have Snape see any of that.” She chuckles lightly. “And Draco, do take care of my friends, please.” Draco narrows his eyes at the girl’s evil smile while she exits the Hall. 

Twila notices his jaw clench as he turns back to his food, clearly making an effort not to say what’s really on his mind. But a weird feeling forms inside her. It didn’t take her long to notice how distant he’s been acting around her since she brought him that note and part of her is curious as to why, but she knows better than to tickle him while he’s upset.

Well… maybe she could just a little.

She subtly scoots in closer, shrinking the gap between the two of them since Jewel is no longer there to fill the empty seat. She clears her throat, leaning slightly in, and with a soft voice she says, “So… what crawled up your ass today?”

His eyes narrow further. his head spinning to face her in surprise but it still remains resting in his palm. But he quickly drops his expression to not give her the satisfaction of a reaction and turns back towards his plate. “Nothing ‘crawled up my ass’, Ravenclaw. I just don’t have time to babysit the three most annoying girls I’ve ever met.”

“Don’t forget the prettiest.” Penelope budges in, giggling with Celia.

But Draco rolls his eyes, completely dismissing the two.

Twila smirks, letting out a soft hum at their comments. "Well, I could use someone to show me the way to the prefect meeting tonight, if you don't mind extending your babysitting just a little longer." She says quietly to him.

Draco can’t help but smirk to himself for a moment. Twila and Jewel seem so alike to him, yet so very different; both so bold but in complete opposite ways. Twila is quick and he hates to admit just how smart and witty she actually is. He feels as though he’s always in some fun game of chess with her. She knows how to push him, without actually making him mad. In fact, she’s one of the few that have been able to challenge him.

He bites back his smile, shaking his head as if to play along like he is not amused. “Fine.”

“Shall we then?”

As dinner ceases, the rest of the students begin to hang out around the castle or go up to their dorms to prepare to sleep. Twila follows beside him at a comfortable pace, holding her hands behind her back while she glances around the castle decor. 

Draco finds himself with a few thoughts in his mind, walking forward through the halls while stewing on them for a moment. But he can’t help but ponder something he saw earlier. “So, you know Ominis?” 

Twila’s eyes perk open wider at the unexpected question. He must have seen them walking in the halls together one of these past days. “Yeah, kinda… We have some classes together.”

Draco nods slowly. She wonders if he is just like Jewel; about to tell her how awful of a human he is. “Do you spend a lot of time together?”

Not exactly what she thought he’d say. She shrugs her shoulders in a gentle manner. “We study Transfiguration together sometimes. I’m awful at it.” She laughs off.

He raises a brow at this. Something she isn’t good at, he scoffs at the revelation. “Do you struggle with charms as well?” He mocks.

But to his surprise, she begins to smile, walking forward with a certain level of confidence in her swaying hips. “I think I charmed you just fine.”

He ignores the urge to trip over himself, unable to believe her flirtatious personality. She’s either extremely confident, or extremely oblivious to carry herself in such a way around this school. Either way, he hates just how damn smart and sassy she almost always is, her quick wit being nearly too good for him to keep track of. She surely keeps him on his toes, even when he least expects it. He tightens his jaw, realizing he is letting her get to him, but can’t completely hide his impressed smirk. “Very funny.”

“I like to think so.”

He shakes his head in amusement at her cocky personality. It's both intriguing and absolutely annoying, but he expresses neither. "How many other subjects do you suck at besides transfiguration and charms?"

“I don’t suck at charms!” She laughs out, nudging him on the arm and he laughs with her.

“Oh yeah? Show me something then? Prove to me that you’re not completely incompetent with magic.”

He laughs again, but Twila catches herself suddenly off guard. The words cause her legs to falter in place and her heart to drop. But almost just as quickly, she composes herself, resuming her walking. However, this time, she's a bit slower and her smile isn’t nearly as bright as it was before. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.” She says playfully, but it isn’t the same.

Draco sees her behavioral difference instantly; how her confidence seemed to disappear in a matter of seconds. He feels a rush of guilt, an unusual feeling these days. Why would such a simple little joke make her act so strange?

Before the topic can be explored any further, they see Professor McGonagall waiting at the entrance of a classroom, ready to escort them in. They cease their talking and make their way to a bench together.

Only moments in and Draco finds himself distracted by something from across the room, an eerie feeling fluttering in his stomach, though Twila hardly notices for she too is distracted by the same thing. 

There he is again. That same boy Twila saw earlier.

Draco shifts under his gaze, before turning back to the professor. However, to his surprise, the girl next to him seems almost in a trance, locked in to the boy on the other side of the class. He looks back and forth between the two, that unsettling feeling only growing inside him. “What…?” He asks cautiously, almost like he’s afraid to admit to himself what he’s seeing. 

Twila snaps her head towards the blond, eyes wide in surprise. “Huh? Oh- Nothing…” She chews her lip, going quiet for a moment, but still staring at him in the corner of her eye. “Actually… who is that?” She whispers.

He follows her gaze, feeling a surge of fear as the two boys' eyes meet once more. He quickly looks back, trying to avoid the topic all together. “Why? You have a thing for him?” He tries to laugh and brush it off, but even the thought of that is not a laughing matter.

She shakes her head out of her daze again, seemingly lost every time she's not looking at him. "No- Sorry- I just- He's in two of my N.E.W.T. classes. He spoke to me earlier and it was... odd.... I don't know, something seems familiar about him..." And just like that she is back in a daze, her brows furrowed almost like she herself is also confused as to why she keeps staring at him.

Draco grows more and more concerned by the way she is acting. Why is she speaking about him as if he has some kind of magical hold on her? This interest of hers is dangerous, something that needs to be nipped at the bud. He isn’t usually one to engage in small talk with just anyone, especially not with some random Ravenclaw. Something is odd here. Then again, maybe he’s found out her and Jewel are friends. Perhaps it’s not a coincidence after all. “What did he say?” Again, his voice is cautious, his pace slow and his volume quiet.

Twila only shrugs. “Just things about why I transferred here. Asked if I like Dark Arts class. I don’t remember, it was pretty brief. I didn’t even catch his name.”

Now that he thinks about it, why did Twila transfer to Hogwarts? However, the idea of that man asking her anything about Dark Arts feels more important to him. “His name’s Tom Riddle. He’s Head Boy. Wait, you said he asked you about the dark arts?”

She continues to steal glances at him. “Yeah.”

Draco has half a million thoughts floating in his head right now. Does she really not see his true nature? “And… what did you tell him? Did you answer?”

But before she can even process his last words, her eyes widen. “Wait- Did you say Tom Riddle?”

He nods, growing more and more weary every time she speaks. “Yes, do you know him already…?”

Luckily, she shakes her head. “No, Jewel just always warns me about them. Obviously, she's loosened up with Mattheo considering she always brings me to practice with you guys. She hates any time I talk to him though. But Tom... she won't even speak about him. She always just says to avoid him."

“Is that… all she tells you?”

Draco's tone makes Twila turn to look at him again. Why does everyone act so weird about these two guys? She thinks. “She never says, just that they're evil or something. Whatever that means.”

The way she rolls her eyes lets Draco know she truly knows nothing. The fact that Jewel hasn’t even mentioned a reason to her ‘best friend’ only proves that Jewel is in a lot more danger than he originally thought.

For now,  Ms. McGonagall dismisses the class, causing all of the prefects to stand and exit the classroom. Just as he and Twila stand however, she stops the two of them. “Oh and before I forget, I’ve assigned the both of you to patrol the clocktower tomorrow night." A wide smile appears on her face, before exiting as well.

Draco immediately frowns at this news, watching the professor leave without waiting for any response from the two students. They share a disappointed glance, before a sly smirk finds Twila’s lips. “You and I, huh?”

He rolls his eyes instantly. There had to be some cruel fate that they should be partnered up together to patrol the most boring area of the school for hours. As if he wasn’t already forced to waste his time on so many other things everyday. “Yeah. The dynamic duo we are.” He scoffs out, trudging forward down the hall.

As the two of them walk, Twila suddenly notices a figure leaning against the wall in one of the larger open areas. As she moves, the candles eventually refract just right so she can make out Mattheo’s face. He boredly stands as if he’s waiting for something, then he looks up, making eye contact with the girl. His eyes light up and he tilts his head to motion her over with a smile.

Twila bites down her grin, turning back to Draco. "I'll see you tomorrow, Draco." She smiles softly at him. But before she walks away, she stops and comes back in front of him. "Hey, don't tell Jewel that Ominis and I are friends, okay?" Her voice is at a whisper and her eyes plead with a certain amount of guilt.

The two ‘best friends’ keeping so many secrets from each other. Draco finds this entertaining, but agrees nonetheless, for now anyway. Then, he looks over her shoulder, now also noticing the boy in the corner. He scoffs as he turns back to her. “Yeah, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Her smile returns, giving him thankful eyes, and then she spins on her heels to all but skip to the corner of the room. She bites her lip once more as she approaches the boy, bashful, but excited. "Thought you're supposed to be in detention?" She whispers, stepping close enough to wrap her arms around his neck.

He lets out a pleased chuckle, his hands already finding home at her waist. “I, uh, got out. Don’t ask how, I’m just glad I did.”

She giggles, rolling her eyes at the same time. "I'm glad you did too." She whispers before leaning in to meet his lips.

Mattheo hugs his arms around her, letting his lips move slowly but passionately against hers while he pulls her in closer. The kiss lasts only for a few seconds, but their embrace remains.

"Thank you." Twila starts softly, her eyes glistening up at him. "For baiting McGonagall, not letting me get detention as well. It was very heroic of you." She teases the last part, but the appreciation in her eyes is real.

He laughs quietly. “I can’t let my favorite girl get in trouble, can I?” He says smoothly.

She playfully rolls her eyes at this. "Favorite girl, huh?”

He lets his eyes narrow, still smiling down at her. “Of course.. Are you saying you don’t like being the favorite?”

"Oh, I just despise it." She says dramatically, her sly grin still present on her face.

Mattheo plays along easily, responding with an equal amount of sarcasm and drama. “Oh, it’s just horrible isn’t it?” She giggles happily at the fact that he matched her tone, letting herself fall further into his arms while she laughs. He takes the opportunity to hold her even closer, looking into her eyes as he speaks. “It must be awful for you; being showered with endless amounts of affection.”

“Endless?” She questions with a sly brow raised at his offer.

“I’m afraid so.” He replies with a sigh.

She hums, about to lean back in for his lips, but then the two suddenly hear rhyming coming from the end of the hall. The voice is high pitched and extremely annoying. 

“10 points to Peeve-sies!” It cries, its voice seeming to come out of the walls.

Twila freezes in place, looking up at Mattheo for guidance on what this unfamiliar voice means.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Mattheo groans under his breath, not in any mood to see the colorful jester; the personification of annoying. Mattheo has gotten in trouble because of this clown more times than he’d like to admit. If he sees them, he’ll tell McGonagall, and he’s already getting detention for his detention that he skipped tonight.

In a split of a second, Mattheo grabs Twila’s hand, dashing them out of the hall and through the first door he sees, which so happens to be the girls washroom. He presses his ear to the door, waiting to see if the poltergeist will pop out eventually, but he hears his voice fading away. By the time Twila joins him by the door, Peeves' voice is gone entirely. 

Mattheo pulls away, his mind immediately returning to their last interaction before they were interrupted. He gently leans her against the wall, tilting his head down to kiss her. 

She lets out a surprised gasp, before giggling into the kiss. “Mattheo, you can’t be in here.” She quietly laughs out.

He smiles at the feeling of her giggles against his lips, only pulling her closer. “I don’t care.” He chuckles, capturing her lips again.

She lets out a soft breath, cupping his face with her hands. When she feels his hands drop lower from her waist, she reaches down to gently grasp his collar, pulling him just enough to press harder against her. Her chest heaves against his as they break away for a moment, each having heavy lids as they take the other in. As their eyes meet, their heartbeats speed up in sync. Mattheo’s lips hunger for more, making him lean in to kiss her neck. She smiles, a soft moan escaping her lips as she rakes her fingers through his hair, causing shivers to run up and down his spine, in turn leaving a little nibble onto her shoulder.

Twila’s body rolls into his as her grip tightens and her eyes close from the sensation. He squeezes her even closer. “Mattheo… he’s gonna come back and hear us if we continue.” She breathes out.

The brown haired boy’s face is hot and red, breathing hard as he realizes how quickly they let things escalate. He takes a step back, but never lets go of her, his hands continuing to run up and down her sides. “You do this to me… you make me so…”

She giggles at his lack of words. “So…?”

He shakes his head with a grin. “You just…”

But as he speaks, she feels this odd rush of confidence take over, the rush coming straight from the bottom of her belly. She moves forward so the two are back to pressing against one another. “I…?” She whispers, staring up into his eyes while she lets a lone finger dance across his belt line, which is all Mattheo needs to reach his mouth to her neck again.

However, just before he can touch her, she raises a finger to his lips to stop him. She looks lustfully into his eyes, before pressing a quick grazing kiss upon his lips, keeping her other hand still tickling near his waist.

He groans at her touch, his breath hot on her neck and his heart beating loud enough for Twila to hear. “You’re being a tease,” but he can’t help but chuckle. A sly smirk appears on her face as she completely retracts her hands now, making him groan even more. The smirk on her face only grows Mattheo’s lust for her. He leans his forehead upon hers and whispers onto her lips. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

She pulls away with a gasping chuckle. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.” She whispers dramatically. She then reaches out for his hands, pulling him towards the bathroom exit. “Come on, we should go back. Some of us can’t risk detention.” She grins.

He smirks, trying to maintain his composure while following her back out into the hallway. He can hardly stop himself from being excited about the idea of sneaking around with her.

She smiles as the two of them walk through the halls until they come to a set of staircases; the upstairs leading to Ravenclaw, and the down to Slytherin. She stops just before them and turns back to Mattheo. “I had fun.” She whispers with a bright smile, placing her hands on his chest.

He hums, giving her one last quick kiss and then pulling back. “I had fun too… and don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

She giggles into his lips. “I’m sure you’re not.” She pulls away, about to walk up the stairs until she stops suddenly. “Can I ask you something…?”

He smirks, watching her as she walks. “Ask away, beautiful.”

She places her elbow on one of the stairs ledges, leaning over it in thought. “...What is your brother like…?” She asks quietly, almost reluctantly.

Her question surprises him, his face filling with pure contempt as he looks at the ground to avoid her eyes. Not a topic he hoped to talk with her about. “Why?” He asks with a voice of sudden monotone.

She shifts, realizing it to be a sensitive topic and immediately regrets bringing it up at all. She mentally curses her curiosity, but now she has to finish what she started. “I think I met him earlier.”

An ice cold chill runs up Mattheo’s spine. It feels like he can’t have one good thing without his brother creeping his way in between it. “You met him?” She nods and his face darkens. Nothing Tom puts his attention towards ends well. He can only hope this was merely an accident, that it meant nothing. “What did he say?”

She shrugs. “He's in two of my classes.  I ran into him, literally. Then, he started asking me things about my transfer from Ilvermorny."

He nods but his thoughts are barely put to ease. Tom rarely does things for no reason. He wouldn’t ask her a question if he didn’t want something out of it. Then again, maybe it could just be a rare case of small talk. “Did he ask you anything else?”

She thinks for a moment, trying to remember their interaction earlier. “He asked if I transferred because I got good grades. I told him I kinda specialize in Runes and Divination and he asked me if I like dark arts class as well. That's pretty much it."

Mattheo freezes as soon as the words ‘dark arts’ leave her lips. He feels his heart drop into his stomach. Why would Tom go around so bluntly asking about dark arts? “What did you tell him?”

She shifts uncomfortably, swallowing down the nervousness in her throat and narrows her eyes in confusion. Odd. “Draco had the same responses.” The fact that even Tom’s own brother is behaving this suspiciously towards him is enough to make her worried.

But now it’s Mattheo’s turn to narrow his eyes. “You talked to Draco about this?” Why has Draco had her attention so much today?

“Yeah.” She nods. “Draco and I are Prefects. We saw Tom in our meeting today, so I asked if Draco knew anything about him and he responded exactly how you just did…” Her voice trails off with insecurity. “Did I say something wrong…?”

Mattheo sighs, leaning against the nearby wall. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…”

Twila sits silently, observing his behavior as he trails off. Now that she’s seen the two back to back, she notices a striking resemblance. She can hardly believe she didn’t realize the two were related when she first spoke to Tom earlier. “Jewel said I shouldn’t even be in the same room as him… She said the same thing about you and Draco though too… But she never tells me anything about Tom, no one does. Why does everyone act so weird about him…?”

His eyes fill with a despairing sort of gaze at her words, but he tries to focus on the bigger problem at hand. “Listen… I think it’s best if you stayed away from Tom. I’m sorry, it's just really complicated.”

Her face drops with a disappointed look. Why is it so impossible for her to get an answer on this? Nonetheless, her shoulders drop in defeat. “Okay…”

With a softened face, he takes a step forward, reaching out for her hand which she lets him take into his own. He looks into her eyes for a moment. He hated causing her these feelings, even though he knows this is truly for the better. He wants to tell her everything, tell her all the secrets he’s been forced to keep in his entire life. He can only long for that day to come, but each day only makes him feel more hopeless towards it. It’s likely that day may never come, with her or anyone ever again. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. I want to tell you, really. But I can’t. It’s best you don’t talk to him again. I mean it.”

Twila only nods, but her confusion only grows. What could be so bad about Tom? About any of the Riddles? Why would Hogwarts let these students freely wander their halls if they are truly dangerous? She just couldn’t wrap her head around it.

His heart drops at the sight, feeling just a bit distanced to her now as every secret seems to push them apart. “Can I ask you something? And be honest with me.” She raises a brow up at him, silently waiting for what he needs to say. “Do you… still want to hang out with me? Even though you can’t know everything?”

She looks to the ground, contemplating his words with a guilty and sour feeling in her mouth. “Would you still hang out with me if I couldn’t tell you everything about myself?” She asks back, eyes vulnerable with secrets of her own.

Mattheo looks back at her, her words stinging with a sense of familiarity. He’s had to hide for most of his life because he has to, but he never considered the situation to be mutual. “Yes, I still would.” He says, carrying a small amount of hope that she would feel the same.

She smiles at him in a sad kind of way. “Thank you.” She whispers, pressing her forehead against his.

Seeing her sad smile kind of hurts Mattheo. It’s clear that she wants answers, may even need them, and it seems as though she is burdened by her own secrets, but some things just can’t be said. She deserves the truth, but he can’t bring himself to be the one to ruin what they have with his dirty secrets. It feels out of place for him. All he can do at the moment is hold her gently.

She leaves one last kiss on his lips before pulling away. “I should get upstairs.” She whispers. Then she walks up towards the Ravenclaw staircase, raising her leg onto its first platform. “Goodnight.” She quietly calls to him in a sing-songy kind of way.

He chuckles. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He calls back as he watches her disappear, eyes following her every move.. However, his mind races with all sorts of thoughts. He wants to follow her up there, to ease the pain he saw in her eyes. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t follow her, and he doesn’t tell her everything she needs to know. He simply looks away after she is out of sight with a sigh and returns to his common room.

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕

Masterlist

𝘈 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘋𝘦𝘓𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯. 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵?

Read Chapter One here

(Photos not mine)

[enchantinglyjade]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤

Chapter Five

Ravenclaw!OC x Slytherin Boys

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: Swearing

-

Twila couldn’t stop herself from smiling all weekend, the girls beginning to get annoyed while Twila goes on and on about her plans as the new Prefect. She could hardly wait to show off her new badge in class on Monday.

“Oh, dear. A little frizzy this morning, are we?”

She holds a small, but beautifully detailed and enchanted mirror in her hand, a gift from Jewel’s father; the two of them receiving matching ones before the start of the school year. She grumbles as the mirror picks her appearance apart. “Oh! You missed a fly away- oh- there you go!” Twila shakes her head at the object and places it back down on her desk so she can throw her new uniform on. It looks very similar to her old one, however, this one is trimmed with gold.

Voices fill the air as she gets closer to the Great Hall. “Settle down everyone. Settle down.” Ms. McGonagall speaks over the students. “Before we dig into our breakfast, I have a few announcements. Firstly, I would like to present our new Prefects for this year. Please, stand.” She raises her hands in the air before her, gesturing an up motion as she looks into the sea of colorful students.

Twila’s nerves fry as her shaky legs bring her to a stand. However, she doesn’t stand alone. Much to her surprise, Draco also stands, amongst a few others she doesn’t recognize yet. The entire room has their eyes up, switching between her and the other handful of students. Just then, her eyes meet Draco’s from across the room. A small smirk threatens to pull at her lips when she sees his confused and nearly offended face when he sees her stand with him.

“Should you find yourself needing guidance this year, please remember these faces. And prefects, remember our weekly meetings are every Tuesday night after dinner. Have a seat, thank you.”

Twila carries on with her classes, but this time, she enters each with a shiny new badge adorned to her uniform. Ominis is first to congratulate her, of course. Draco, not so much.

He couldn’t understand. Why had she been handed everything since the moment she got here? What makes her so special? Is she from some kind of influential American family or something?

“So, you’re prefect?” She smirks, sitting down in her seat.

“Yeah,” He chuckles out sarcastically. “And what did you have to do to get it as well, I wonder?”

“It’s not my first time being a prefect.” She smirks.

He raises a brow at this, feigning his interest. “Oh? I take it being a prefect at a lesser school really prepared you for this role then?”

She rolls her eyes, but much to Draco’s irritation, her smirk never leaves. “And your years of experience have prepared you well, I assume?”

His eyes narrow as he turns to look at her. “Please, I’m a Slytherin Prefect. Everyone knows we’re chosen on skill and perfection unlike the rest of you.” The conversation between the two of them quickly grows competitive and Draco almost finds himself enjoying the back and forth taunting. 

She scoffs. “You’re right, how could I ever compare to your royal highness?”

He leans in closer. “Do you really think you can keep insulting me all year and get away with it?”

She simply smiles and goes back to her work, before the professor notices them.

The two of them sit through another lesson from Snape, however the other students were itching to start using their magic, a whole week at Hogwarts and they had yet to do anything but open their textbooks. Just after, Twila gets up to make her way to potions, not bothering to wait for Draco this time, though he quickly catches up.

“Hey, what’s the rush? You afraid of me?”

She wants to smile, seeing how he always ditches his ‘real’ friends just to talk to her, whether it just be banter or otherwise. “I’m afraid you can’t keep up with me.”

He lets out one loud laugh. “Please, I could fly circles around you.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” she challenges.

“And I’d love to prove you wrong.” He smirks, walking past her and into their next class.

On normal occasions, Twila and Draco would either work alone or somehow end up as lab partners, however, this time a different boy approaches her and asks to work with her to make the Alihotsy Draught.

“Be sure to keep the lids on your cauldron’s when not adding ingredients, otherwise a long and humorous trip up to Madam Pomfrey will be in your near future.” Professor Slughorn chuckles out.

Her and her partner begin work on the potion, but not before she takes a glance over her shoulder, where her eyes lay upon a very annoyed blond. He rolls his eyes when he catches her looking, but she only smirks and turns back to her cauldron. However, soon after, Ansel, her partner, gets a little too close to the fumes and bursts into a hysterical laughter. The entire class turns to watch the commotion as the young boy hunches over with loud cackling. Professor Slughorn is quick yet calm to escort him out the door and in the direction of the hospital wing, before turning to the rest of the class with a hesitant but encouraging smile. However, he watches as one by one his students become conquered by the potion.

Twila quickly covers her cauldron, nervously watching her classmates run out the room, leaving only a handful of them left, Draco being one of them.

“Happy to see some of you managed to escape this period unharmed. Well done.” Slughorn addresses the remnants of his class with a nervous smile, dismissing them to their next period.

Draco, of course, comes sauntering over. “So, your partner was the first one out, huh? Some partner he was.” He scoffs out.

Twila is, once again, extremely amused by his behavior towards her, wondering why he cares about her and her education so deeply. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were jealous I didn’t choose to work with you.”

He lets out a sarcastic kind of laugh. “Look, I admit, you’re not all that bad, give or take the attitude issues, the scraggly hair, bad breath-”

“Draco-”

“-But, me? Jealous of a Ravenclaw? As if, Twila.” 

She lets out a tired groan, but feels more than used to this behavior just from spending time with him these past few days. Though, she tried to warn herself that continuation of this casual behavior could lead to issues in the long run. Someone like Draco Malfoy is a person someone like her should not become friendly with. But she didn’t see a problem with enjoying the sweet before the sour came. For now anyways.

"Goodbye. Draco.” She twiddles her fingers over her shoulder in a wave as she walks away with a smile, leaving him to his confused thoughts.

༺ ☆ ༻

“Quidditch practice tonight. You coming?” Jewel’s face obstructs Twila’s view of Mattheo from the other side of the dinner table.

“Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world.” She says playfully, but deep down, she really wouldn’t if it meant another opportunity to stare at a certain curly headed boy for an hour straight.

“Good.” Jewel smiles. “We should slip away now while the professors are all talking still.” She loudly whispers, pushing aside her plate to stand from her spot.

Twila stands, following her out into the halls, but just then a brown dotted owl swoops down from the high ceilings, dropping a letter that slides perfectly into Jewel’s hand. The Slytherin watches the bird leave with a startled look before turning her attention down to the paper in her hand. She opens it, taking a moment to read it while Twila wonders what its contents hold. Jewel folds the paper back up and looks into the distance with a thought before speaking again. “I have to get back to my dorm, but-” She slings her bag off her shoulder, dropping it to the ground where she then pulls out a pen and piece of parchment. She scribbles on the paper. “Go watch the game, make sure the boys behave, and give this to Draco.” She hands Twila the note. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Twila.” With a somewhat forced smile, she races past her friend and towards the dungeons.

Twila stands, watching her as she disappears before slowly walking towards the exit. She wonders what she wrote down, but would it be rude to intrude on a private letter? Jewel did trust her with the note after all, so how bad would it be if she took a small peek?

She walks through the long field and gently unfolds the letter.

'He moves at twelve. It’s under my potions book.

And keep practicing your dives'

She squints down at the writing. ‘He moves at twelve?’

Twila crimps the letter back to its original state, passing the changing rooms and moving into the pitch where she hears a noise from above her and is greeted with the boy in question overhead. Once he has her attention, Draco begins to, quite literally, fly circles around her.

“Just as promised. Very funny, Malfoy.” She smiles.

“Do I know you?” He asks with the purpose of annoying her, stopping a few feet in front of her. But she only rolls her eyes. He comes back down to the earth, grabbing his broom in hand. “Why don’t you just admit that I’m right. You’ve been a little too smug since you got to Hogwarts. At least I’m not trying to hide who I really am. Your shy little Ravenclaw act will never fool me.” He scoffs.

Her grin grows. She begins to lazily walk forward, in no particular direction while she speaks to him. “And I suppose you think you’re better than me for that? Don’t you ever think it’s hard to get along with someone who thinks so highly of themselves?”

He laughs dryly, following after her. “Please, I’m not even attempting to get along with you. My superiority is far beyond your little Ravenclaw comprehension. You’d understand if you were Slytherin.”

Twila only hums at the last part, smirking in a way that gives off the impression that she’s hiding something.

“What?” He asks sternly, quickly becoming irritated by how much she smiles when he talks to her, not the usual reaction he receives or hopes for when trying to intimidate others.

“Nothing.” And she only smiles harder.

He rolls his eyes. "Where's your leader, huh? Too important to come to her own practice session?" He spits out. She simply hands the letter over to him as an answer. He raises a confused brow before peering down to read it. As his eyes glance over its words, his face begins to drop, forming into a hard glare. "Why do you have this?" He looks up with a sneer, his voice dangerously low and serious as he seems to glare into her.

Twila's head cranks back in surprise at his reaction. "Jewel told me to give it to you."

He scoffs. "Just like Jewel to be this irresponsible. Why did she give it to you?" His voice demands an answer.

She shrugs, crossing her arms in defense from his tone. Clearly Jewel had shoved her into a room that she wasn't welcomed in. "I don't know. She just did. Told me to give it to you."

Draco seems dubious for a moment, but takes her seemingly genuine cluelessness as satisfactory enough to drop the sharpness in his glare. Still, he is hesitant. "Just forget all about this, alright, Ravenclaw. Don’t burst your precious little brain trying to pick this apart." He mocks.

Twila squints her eyes, the word 'Ravenclaw' coming out of his mouth in a more bitter way than usual. She watches him take his wand, mumbling out a spell that causes the letter to burn into ash, before walking away and taking his broom to fly off without giving her so much as another glance.

She’s taken aback by his actions, still not understanding the full importance of the note just yet. She awkwardly and slowly makes her way up to the stands, sitting on one of the benches in silence as the boys begin to chase the objects around. She originally had plans to simply watch Mattheo the whole game, but something about Draco’s weary face made her keep his eyes on him. He seems… grim… nervous almost. And over a small note? There was obviously something unsettling about the entire situation. What are Jewel and him up to? Where had she gone off? What’s so important about her potions book? And who are they writing about?

It doesn’t take long for Draco to stop playing all together, coming down the hang up his broom, much to the others dismay. “I have to take care of something. I’ll see you all tomorrow in class.” He tells them, waving them off with a straight face. As he moves towards the exit, he looks at Twila in the corner of his eye for a quick moment before he’s gone. Her eyes stay unfocused in the direction she had last seen him, still pondering those questions in her head and for longer than she realizes for the other boys are now done playing as well. She clears her throat, shaking the thoughts from her head as she carefully walks towards the changing rooms, making sure no equipment is still loose in the air. The last thing she needs is a quaffle plunging towards her head right now.

“Hey, Twila. Everything alright?” Mattheo suddenly speaks up, quietly as the other team members begin to leave.

Her face perks up at the sound of his voice. “Um, yeah. I’m fine.”

He raises a brow, looking into her eyes carefully. “Are you sure? You look like something’s bothering you. It’s not Jewel is it? I can tell when something’s up with you two.”

"Yeah?" She chuckles lightly. "You were good out there, you know. Flying." She points a finger to the sky, swirling it in the air to mock a broom.

He notes the change in subject but plays into it for now, assuming that it means he’s right on the money. “Watching me out there, were you?”

"Maybe just a little." She smiles, looking between him and his broom, curious about the object.

He follows her eyes with a chuckle. “Well are you gonna hop on or just keep staring? I mean- It is an impressive broom, I know; clean, bigger than average, smooth riding. But it’s not just for looks.” A large lopsided grin is given to her alongside his offering.

She rolls her eyes at him, however a smile grows on her lips. “I don’t fly.”

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. “What? You’ve never flown?” He reaches back for his broom, holding it out for her. She looks between him and the broom as if he’s completely insane.  “Go on.” He offers once again.

She lets out a dry laugh. “Absolutely not.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Oh, come on. What is it, the height or that you think you’ll fall?”

“Everything.” She states dramatically, thinking of all the possible things that could go wrong. 

“Fine, we’ll go together then.” He throws his leg over the broom, making it bounce in the air from his weight. “That way you’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Come, I’ll teach you.” Then, he extends his arm out to her. She wavers for a moment, arms crossed while she eyes the object, untrusting but considering. “I won’t let you fall, I promise.” His pleading smile is just enough to barely convince her, and with a deep breath in, she steps forward. His smile widens as he watches her get on in front of him, the adrenaline builds in him already as he prepares to soar through the sky with her. “See, you’re fine. We’ll take it slow at first.”

“At first?” But before she can say anything further, she feels her feet lift off the ground. Immediately she launches forward, hugging the broomstick beneath her, which only causes the object to jump with her.

“Okay, easy now.” He laughs, finding her terrified action actually kind of adorable. He eases her back into a straight, more comfortable position, trying his best not to focus on their bodies being pressed together as he steadies her by holding her by the waist. “It’s gonna be fine. Don’t grip the broom so tightly.” He chuckles out. As they ascend, his hands lower to the divot where her leg meets her pelvis, his thumbs easing circles into the cloth of her pants to keep her relaxed and balanced. 

She nervously grips the broom, she tries to focus on slowly making the broom float upward, but she seems distracted by his hand placement. She looks into his eyes for a moment, before back down at the ground, taking a deep breath while she tries to calm her shaking and sweaty hands.

Mattheo leans forward. He looks down at the ground from over her shoulder, before whispering to her, “See, everything’s working fine.”

She can’t help but smile at the feeling of him being so close, the warmth of him on her back. It does in fact help her ease her nerves a bit, but she can’t ignore that they’re hovering in the sky on a tree branch right now.

She lets the two of them float about 10 feet in the air before gently letting the broom fall back down to the ground. "Alright, that's enough for me."

Mattheo bows his head down in a laugh before looking up at her in an adoring way. “Alright, you did good for your first time. You’re a natural.”

“I’m never doing that again.”

He laughs once more. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that a little.” She quickly jumps off the broom, shaking her head, but he sees the small smile pull at her lips. “Well, you’re always welcome to fly with me another time if you change your mind.” With a smile of his own, he takes the broom and hangs it back up on the wall with the others before they both exit the pitch, walking through the dark field alone together.

As they walk side by side, Twila looks up at the night sky, noticing the stars are oddly dim tonight.

“You look cute on a broom, you know.” Her head snaps back down, eyes wide at the statement before she relaxes into a grateful smile. “I-I could walk you back to your common room, if you want.” He says, hoping she doesn’t notice how nervous he is.

To his luck, she smiles even wider. “Sure, thank you.”

They continue walking, however something still doesn’t sit right with Mattheo as he thinks back to how she was looking earlier. “So… are you friends with Jewel?” He cringes at his very obvious question, knowing that further examination would go into his words.

Twila raises a brow. “Why do you say it like that?” She tries not to feel defensive of her friend, already knowing the two of them don’t get along for some reason.

He sighs deeply, looking away with a flat expression into the darkness of the trees nearby. “We used to date, or whatever.” He states dryly. Twila feels her heart stop as she tries to search his empty face for an explanation. “It was nothing serious though, I promise. But, we don’t exactly see eye to eye anymore, if you couldn’t tell. I’m glad to be out of that, not to talk shit about your friend, but it wasn’t for me, you know.”

“Yeah…” Her face is next to go blank. She doesn’t know what to make of this new information. It certainly explains a lot. Perhaps that’s why Jewel keeps telling her to back away. Could she still like him? Is she too jealous to watch him move on and resorts to calling him a player? Or maybe there’s something he’s not saying…

Mattheo immediately notices her reaction, hating that he suddenly feels awkward around her for the first time since they’ve met. He stops the two of them in their tracks, needing to clear the air. “Listen, Twila, I really like you and I don’t want something stupid like this to affect anything between us.”

She stays quiet, the only noise coming from her being a deep inhale as they stand in the grass. She knows deep down that their past shouldn’t mean anything to her, but she can’t help but feel curious. She is a Ravenclaw after all; searching for truth and explanation is what she’s best at, encouraged to do even. He seems genuine enough, though she supposes there is only one way to find out the truth and that will be through experience. For now, “I trust you.”

“Really?” He sounds surprised himself.

Naturally, her ego’s first instinct kicks in from the revelation, it’s not exactly something she was hoping to hear, but before she has time to think about it any further, she provides a distraction for the two of them. “Sit with me.” She suggests gently to him as she drops herself down into the grass, stretching her legs out in front of her on top of the dewy blades.

With his face still in shock, he quickly joins her, still afraid he might have spoken about something he shouldn’t have despite her words. Once on the ground, he slowly and awkwardly mimics her pose, making sure to peek at her face often to read her, however, Twila simply admires the stars, the small sliver of moon reflecting in her dark pupils.

The air is still and crisp, a slight cold undertone as if to hint that autumn is soon on its way to Hogwarts. The turrets and towers of the castle lay high in the night sky, as lights slowly begin to turn off in each of the windows.

Twila takes a deep breath in, holding it in her lungs before letting it go with a slow exhale. “I haven’t liked someone in a long time.” She suddenly says.

Mattheo feels his heart skip a beat. “Me too.” He whispers into the night.

With a soft chuckle, one his ears just barely pick up on, she turns to face him, preparing a brave face. “I like you, Mattheo.”

He lets out a chuckle at her obvious statement, leaning in towards her. “You know you can just call me ‘Matt’.” He offers with a smile.

She continues to lock eyes with him. A soft feeling grows between the two of them. “Yeah… but I like Mattheo.” She whispers.

“You can call me Mattheo.” He responds quietly, a soft rasp and almost sleepy sound to his voice.  A small, calm smile grows on his face as he takes the chance to lean in just a little closer. “You know, I thought Ravenclaw’s were supposed to be smart.”

She furrows her brows at this, but doesn’t pull away from his approaching body. “What do you mean?”

His eyes overtone with a distant look. “How many times have you been warned not to be alone with me?”

His words could nearly be taken as a threat, but Twila sees insecurity in his eyes; a young man an entire community has been taught to fear, to disown. He’s all alone. “Maybe I don’t always wanna be the smart one.” Her words glide over his lips as she takes the next step, pressing their foreheads against each other.

He takes a moment to look into her dark eyes, glancing back and forth between them with a new sense of judgment about her. “Can I?” He asks.

“What?”

“Kiss you?”

She bites back a smile. “Do you want to?” She whispers.

“Yes.” He whispers back.

‘Do you really want to?”

He chuckles against her skin. “Yes, I really want to.”

“Then do it.” She hardly needs to say the words, her eyes telling more than her lips ever could. They each lean in, both chuckling into the kiss as their lips finally come together for the first time.

She feels electricity shoot through her face as they meet, making her reach out to cling onto him so she doesn’t lose stability. His lips are surprisingly soft and they make her feel warm and fuzzy inside as they gently and just barely move against her own. She wants to stay in this moment as long as possible, even if her body is tense and her stomach is doing flips. She sinks into his touch as they both melt into their own world, not one thing mattering around them.

She is reluctant to pull away, but the growing burn in her lungs is hard to ignore. She parts with a soft gasp and a tingle on her mouth. They stare into each other's eyes, each adorning an exhilarated smile on their faces. However, in the corner of her eye, Twila can see each of the windows in Hogwarts castle become dark until only a handful are still left, professors no doubt. They’ll need to hurry back if they both don’t want to spend all week in detention. “We should get back.” She whispers with a prang of guilt and longing in her belly.

He turns around to check the castle as well, before returning with a sigh. “Yeah… probably almost midnight by the looks of it.” He responds, but the thrill in his eyes never leaves. He rises to a stand, offering his hand out to her, which she accepts and follows him to walk the remainder of the field in a shy silence, that is until they reach the doors.

Mattheo quietly pushes open a side door, looking left and right before holding a space open for Twila to sneak through. He seems quite experienced in adventures like this, knowing his way around the castle’s secret areas very well, something she assumes is a Slytherin’s second nature. She keeps her steps quiet from behind him and he does his best to keep watch, but his stomach drops when he hears footsteps that he knows he won’t be able to avoid. He quickly turns to Twila, guiding her to a small divot in the walls, one just large enough for her alone to hide behind, then throws himself as bait to the awaiting professor.

McGonagall shuffles around the corner, reading a paper in hand, though her eyes quickly avert upward towards the shadow in front of her. She jolts up, placing a hand over her heart as she’s startled by the unexpected student standing before her after curfew. “Mr. Riddle!” She exclaims. Twila can only hear the scene playing out beside her, not taking her chances to peek around the corner and risk her Prefect position she had only just got. “May I ask where you have been?” She rests her hand on her hip, waiting with her lips pursed for every unsatisfactory answer he can give her.

“Yes, you may.” Mattheo answers with a complacent smirk.

However, Ms. McGonagall is in no mood for this. “Detention tomorrow, as usual. You know, Mr. Riddle, I had really hoped this year would be different for you.” 

Just what had Mattheo gotten into during his previous years to make McGonagall have such a discouraged attitude towards him and his future, Twila thinks to herself. “Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint.” Mattheo’s tone is sarcastic, but shielding nonetheless.

McGonagall returns a sigh, glancing between him and the halls with tired eyes. “Please, just return to your common room at once. We'll speak on this tomorrow.”

Mattheo only walks past the professor and straight to the dungeons. McGonagall takes a moment to stand in the hall, Twila hearing her papers shuffle, before her footsteps continue. Just as Twila is about to peek around the corner, the professor walks right in front of her. Twila holds her breath, as if it would save her from getting caught and, luckily, it does, McGonagall continuing down the hall, completely oblivious to Twila’s presence. Once she is certain she is now alone, only then does Twila step out from her hiding spot.

She makes quick work to find her way to the Central Hall, so she can return to Ravenclaw Tower as soon as possible, but she suddenly notices something odd, a misplaced echo against the cobbled walls. As much as she tells herself not to, she stops moving, standing still and alone in the dark area so she can listen closely, only to find that she is in fact not alone, a second set of footsteps nearby. However, instead of hiding, she feels the urge to stay put which only results in her being completely exposed to the shadow on the other side of the room. 

The shadow reveals a boy, much taller than her, older looking too, which she finds odd considering she’s already a 7th year and therefore the oldest in the school. He has dark brown, wavy hair and unsettling eyes, ones that dare her to move under their gaze. Even though relieved to not see a professor instead, Twila feels absolutely paralyzed as the boy makes eye contact with her. He does nothing, he says nothing, only looks her up and down before continuing onward.

Twila doesn’t know how long she stands there, but she assumes longer than she should have. Who was that? What is he doing? And why does he seem so familiar?

[enchantinglyjade]

Rise of the Titans

Chapter One

Goddess!OC x Loki

Masterlist Previous | Next Warnings: None

-

Arali jumps out of bed, eager to start the day, not that she had been able to sleep anyways. You see, every few years, the Asgardian Royal Family would come to Olympus to visit and today happened to be one of those times. Honestly, she had grown a bit tired of her older brothers and sisters, seeing as she was the youngest by a few thousand years, so she was excited to play with someone her own age once more.

She dresses in her finest white chiton with a blush colored cloth pinned above her right shoulder and draped over her body. She twirls in the mirror, then zips out of her room, speeding down the hallways of the large castle to find her mother. Turns out, the Asgardians had arrived early, as they were already standing in the throne room. They were being greeted by her mother and big brother, Cronus, both in front of the throne with a smile.

Her mother was always very welcoming, treating everyone she met with kindness, as if they were her own children. Cronus however, let’s just say Arali tried to avoid him at all costs. She loved her brother, but felt there was something off about him. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

She sneaks in unnoticed and hides herself behind one of the giant, white columns in the room. She peeks out to look at the two young children standing beside the guests, both seeming to grow impatient as their parents converse politics and such.

The Asgardian monarch, Queen Frigga, glances towards Arali. She smiles warmly, and raises her hand to wave at the child. Her presence was always so dear to Arali, seeing her almost as a second mother. She waves back, shy that she had been seen. Frigga’s movement is noticed by Gaia. The two of them share a glance, before Frigga excuses her two boys, whispering something to them. They look around confused before making eye contact with the young goddess behind the pillar. Their eyes light up, and the three run enthusiastically towards the exit of the throne room together.

It isn’t long before the news of the Asgardians’ arrival travels throughout the kingdom, which in turn, brings a handful of the other children among the royal court to the halls in search of the new princes. The three of them were found quickly, not that Thor ever minds the extra attention. Eventually, they all made their way outside to the gardens, hoping to play many rounds of games.

Thor began to show the group his strength and sporty tricks, all seemed to gawk at the boy’s power and charisma. Arali watches Loki roll his eyes and sit on a nearby tree stump. She looks back at Thor, before deciding she would rather join his younger brother. She may have been of a higher status than the other kids, but she was still the youngest, and therefore, always left out, just as Loki was. She sits next to him on the stump, swinging her legs with a nearly annoying amount of enthusiasm. Hoping that he would start the conversation for her, she turns to face him with a smile, staring into his face.

Loki pretends not to notice at first, adjusting awkwardly in his seat as he grows uncomfortable under her intense stare. However, soon he slumps his shoulders when he notices her eyesight failing to gaze anywhere else. Surrendering to her attention, he greets her timidly with a sigh in his voice, “Hello, Arali.” His eyes filled deep with boredom.

She waves at him with great keenness.

“How about a game of Kubb?” The blond Asgardian boy suggests loudly to everyone.

Arali leans over to Loki, “I prefer beating you at Ephedrismos.”

He rolls his eyes at her comment. “That is a game for girls. I am not playing that.” 

She shrugs her shoulders with a short laugh. “Then it is no wonder you can never win.” They stick out their tongue to one another as she pokes fun at the young prince.

“Kubb it is! The tallest team gets to go first!” Thor yells running to take his place with great pride, knowing very well that he is the tallest of the children.

Arali stands from the tree stump and raises her hand up to her head, measuring her height. She then reaches out her hand, smiling at how it hovers mere inches above Loki's head. “I’m taller than you~” She says with a snicker. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms with a huff.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Mama, I want powers too! I’m just as strong as Loki and Thor, but they don’t believe me!”

The goddess mother kneels to take her daughter's tiny hand within her own. “Calm, little princess. You will get your powers when you are ready.”

“But I want them now!”

Another calm voice chimes in, “Perhaps with patience, they will come to you naturally.” Frigga walks through the frame of the door and enters the room, causing the child’s face to brighten with excitement at her presence.

Arali wiggles her toes impatiently, “I cannot wait to get my powers! I don’t want to be like the mortals anymore.” She grimaces.

The goddess mother scoops up her child, placing her in her lap on the bed. “You see Arali, over 10,000 years ago, I was born on a planet called Gaia. That is where I got my name. The people there did not like me very much. They thought I was… odd for being born with powers, but eventually I came to make friends. Every 5,000 years the planets align with one another, creating portals between the worlds. This is called the Convergence. My husband, Ouranos, and I, and a number of our friends, accidentally stepped through one of these portals, getting lost on this planet. As we settled on Olympia, we began changing. We discovered a fruit; whose juices slowed our aging, until one day we ceased to age at all. You may be a goddess and a Titan, little one, but never forget deep down you are of Gaia. You may be powerful and strong, but you are as much a human as the mortals. Use your strength to protect them, but do not put yourself above them.”

Arali lowers her head, ashamed she has upset her mother. Gaia tucks an orange strand of her child’s hair behind her ear. “It is quite alright, Arali. Just remember to speak kindly of the mortals.”

She nods, her smile returning to her face. “Okay. Can I go now?” Gaia nods with a laugh, letting her jump off of her lap.

The child follows Frigga through the castle and out into the courtyard where the other children play.

“Mama tells me one day I am going to be Queen,” Arali gloats to the older woman.

The Allmother laughs at her confidence. “That is the day Loki will become King, as well.” As if on cue, the boy slows his jog as he approaches his mother. Confused upon hearing his name, he joins their conversation, intending to find out what the two are talking about.

“What do you mean?” Arali questions.

Frigga bends down, extending her arms for the two children to come closer to her. “It means the two of you are promised to each other.”

Confused on how he got brought into the conversation, Loki asks, “What does that mean?”

“Once you have become adults, you will be married to each other, officially uniting your kingdoms.”

The children look to each other in disgust “Ew!” They shout.

“I am not marrying her!” “I am not marrying him either!” The children dispute.

“You will become king and queen if you do.” The current Queen suggests to them.

Loki and Arali look at each other, then back at Frigga with smiles before he adds, “Well, maybe you’re not so bad.” Aralia glares and crosses her arms at this.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“Can you read to me, mama?” Her mother nods, already knowing which book to bring with her to her daughter’s bed. She sits, allowing the ball of orange curls to snuggle into her abdomen. She opens the book to the marked page, but before she can open her mouth to read she is interrupted.

“Who is Aphrodite?” Arali whispers from beneath her blankets.

Gaia sets the book down into her lap, keeping a thumb in between the pages as the cover closes on its own. “Now, where did you hear this name from?”

Arali’s eyes quickly shift down to look at the quilt she was covered with. “I heard Hyperion talking about her with the others”

Her mother lets out a breath. “Aphrodite is The Goddess of Love. She is the daughter of my late husband, Ouranos.” She explains.

“Are you her mom too?” Arali looks up at her mother with her big round eyes.

Gaia shifts uncomfortably, wondering how to explain the situation, “No, she is like you; She only has one parent, created through very powerful magic. But, you could see her as your sister in a way.” Luckily, Arali does not ponder any further than that. Instead, she shrugs curling even further into her wool blankets. Gaia re-opens the book to read, just like she does every night.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

There were a few special occasions when Gaia would bring her daughter to visit the kingdom of Asgard. While she and Frigga discussed future plans, Arali would run off with her two princely friends.

Thor was ecstatic to introduce her to his friends back at home. Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun, were happy to meet her, but once introductions were through, she was stuck behind with Loki, as usual. Not that she minded.

“Let’s go on an adventure!” Arali whispers to Loki.

As Loki slowly begins to accept her company, it becomes routine for the two to go adventuring while the rest of the children are busy with his older brother. They adored making quests for themselves and setting out to discover all that nature has to offer to them.

He smiles before taking her hand, dragging her behind him and away from the group. The two race through the golden castle, footsteps echoing on the gemmed flooring. Arali giggles behind the boy, taking in the grand rooms. Their small bodies sneak past the many guards, something that became even easily through practice, until the two of them find themselves on the streets of the outside village. Chatter and clutter fills the air as the humble Asgardians busy themselves with work and children, the many small businesses filled with customers on this particular day.

Loki huffs as he stops to catch his breath, crossing his arms at the idea of wallowing around the village once more with her. After the ump-teenth time of doing so, he had grown quite bored of the activity. However, Arali only skips ahead after letting go of his hand, happily taking in the scene of the villagers going about their day, unknowing of the prince and princess that graze their presence only a few feet away.

"Mother does not let me leave the castle often." Arali calls out quietly to the boy behind her.

The boy tilts his head in curiosity, part of him not wanting to care, but the other not able to help but question. "Why not?"

Arali feels her heart quicken at the question, but knows not as to why. "I heard my older brother talk about something bad happening outside." She says with a lack of her usual enthusiasm.

His brows furrow at her words. "What sort of bad thing?"

She keeps her back turned towards him, shrugging her shoulders at his question. "I don't know, but I think it is dangerous."

Loki sighs at her vague words, but feels a sinking within his gut. He realizes he may have a deeper understanding of what could be happening in her home, something he overheard his own family speak of. "Maybe we should go back inside." He suggests reluctantly.

But Arali quickly turns to face him and shakes her head. "No!" She objects. "I want to be out here. I want to see something new."

Loki crosses his arms at her determination and knows better than to try and change her mind. "Fine. I think I know somewhere you may like."

She follows behind him, somewhat excited, though her still furrowed brows would not let him know that. That is until her eyes can't help but widen as her face eases its tension in amazement at the scenery before her. Loki guides her to a beautiful spring. The crystal clear water cascades down large, black rocks that rise just below the surface of the forest, falling into the small lake below with a soft showering, a sound that can relax anyone's mind of their pains and worries.

Arali stands in awe at the view in front of her, giggling as she continues to hold the boy’s hand. But they freeze as they soon hear a noise in the near distance. They quickly come to realize it is Frigga calling out as she paces around the castle in search of them, no doubt.

“Race you!” She exclaims, and the two quickly run back out of the forest to meet with the rest of the little group, who hover around the Allmother.

“Could you tell us a story, mother?”

“Oh! Tell the one about the Dark Elves!”

“Or the Frost Giants!”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Arali, Thor, Loki, and a handful of the children of the court are out exploring once more. Thor, the group’s designated leader, decided it would be fun to explore one of the vast forests of Olympia. As they push through the many trees and grasses, they come to a clearing. In the open area sits a collection of boulders, which the children rush to rest upon, all surrounding the blonde Asgardian with joy.

Arali, of course, shares a boulder with the other Asgardian. Giggles suddenly escape Loki’s throat as they watch the group of friends play around. Confused, Arali turns to examine her friend, insisting to discover what is so funny.

Loki leans to whisper to her, “Watch this.”

And with that, he disappears. She twists in her spot, looking for the boy, but he is nowhere to be found. That is, until she hears the others screaming. Wide eyed, she quickly turns back to discover what had caused such a reaction, the others backing away from Thor in fear.

“No need to be afraid, my friends. It is just a little snake. See? Aren’t they amazing?” He crouches down, grabbing the snake, holding it out to admire it. One of the children steps closer, feeling more brave now that they see Thor handling the creature unharmed. But, soon more screeches follow as a green shimmer of light wraps around the snake, and in the blink of an eye, Loki stands in its place.

“Ha! It’s me!” the boy yells, jabbing Thor with a twig.

Thor yelps falling to the ground in surprise and anger. “Loki!”

But the boy only laughs at his clever prank, and his smile only grows seeing his red headed companion holding her sides with laughter.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“You like my brother? Haha! Loki! Come here! I have news!” The blond jumps in excitement, waving his hands to catch his brother’s attention from across the field.

Arali runs to Thor, jumping to catch his arms and cover his mouth. “Quiet, Thor!” But it does her no good, the raven haired boy is already running over to examine the situation. She then pushes the blonde to the ground, raising a fist above his head. “You promised you would not say anything!”

Thor fakely screams at her threat of violence, knowing that his strength would outmatch hers, but raises his hands to shield himself no less, seeing the sheer wrath in the young girl’s eyes as she tries to push and shove his hands away.

Loki approaches the scene with laughter and a wide smile on his face, none the wiser to Arali’s anger, but amused by it regardless. “Hit him again! Haha! ”

She spins to Loki, embarrassment coursing through her and reddening her cheeks.  “And you are next!” She threatens.

The boy is caught off guard by her sudden hostility towards him, but that is soon replaced with smugness as he thinks back to a trick his mother has spent her time teaching him, a trick he had been meaning to use on anyone recently. “Oh really? Is that so?” He smirks at her challenge. “Then try and find me!” And with that, the boy uses his power of magic to duplicate himself, surrounding the two with identical Loki’s.

“Brother, not this again.” Thor grumbles, as Arali climbs off of him,  determined to see through Loki’s illusions. She would finally prove that she was just as smart and powerful as the two other gods. She looks around her, looking for any small glitch in his magic. Some illusions are transparent, others have delayed reactions. Then she finds the one. The one different from them all.

She runs to him, preparing an attack, to which he responds with wide eyes, dispelling the rest of the illusions quickly. As she approaches, she loses her footing, sending both of them crashing down onto the grass with a yelp. 

Despite her previous embarrassment, she can’t help but look down at the boy with giggles. “Found you.”

[enchantinglyjade]

Shining My Love on You

Bob Marley/Kingsley Ben-adir One Shot

Bob Marley x Blk!Fem!Reader Note: Girl, I did it. This is just a quick little idea I got from the song Sun is Shining by Bob Marley. I don’t know much about Jamaican culture so I hope nothing in here is disrespectful. Most things/dialogue comes directly from the movie just to make sure I'm getting things like the dialect correct. Also, like my Elvis content, this fanfic derives from the biopic and has little correlation to the actual musician nor the actual actor, but rather the character that both come together to create.

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Monday morning

The sun shines over the city of Kingston, giving each of its inhabitants a sweet sting upon their skin. The wind blows tenderly, cooling an otherwise hot morning. 

Bell bottoms cover the scraping of a young man’s shoes against the sand and rubble as he passes through town. The breeze catches beneath his unbuttoned jean jacket, causing it to flair gently behind him. As he walks, he catches glimpse of a rusted, teal pick up truck parked outside one of the shops, bags of green, yellow, and red mangoes piling out of the back. A woman takes four bags into her hands, lifting them from the truck with a bit of a struggle.

With a smile, he jogs over. As he approaches, his ears pick up on the faint static of a radio coming through the front door and pouring out onto the streets. “Here, let me help ya with that.”

The woman looks up in surprise, but smiles back nonetheless. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

He takes in her face; her bright eyes, her braided hair, her youthful spirit. Not the first time he’s seen her around, he realizes. “Ah, that’s no problem.” He says, following her into the shop with bags of the fruit in his hands.

It is a small building, but its authenticity shines through down to the freshness of every seed and the care behind every wipe of the windows. “This yours?” He asks as he looks around after placing the bags on the front counter near the register.

“My mother’s” She answers, taking fruit by fruit from the bags and placing them on a nearby cart. “She’s with child, so I’m in charge for now.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods out. “You live in that yellow house on Hope?”

Her eyes contort in confusion from his sudden personal question and her movement stops, looking at the seeming stranger with a more cautious approach now. “How’d you know?” She asks slowly.

He chuckles at her expression. “I live near. I seen you pass by.”

As she takes him in, her face begins to soften, a feeling of ease settling in her stomach as she remembers his long hair and slender build playing football around the neighborhood from time to time. “Thought I recognized you. I’ve heard my cousins speak of you. Bob, is it?”

He can’t help but grin when he hears his name flow from her lips. “Me that is.” She tries to hide her blush when she notices the softness in his voice and the savor in his eyes as he gazes down at her. He chuckles at her shyness, finding it endearing how she’s trying her best to focus on the fruit in front of her. “I’ma head back home,” He says softly. “But when you need help with your mangoes again, you know where to look for me.” He smirks as he backs slowly towards the entrance, still taking in the way her aura fills the shop.

She shakes her head with a chuckle before an offering comes to her mind for the kind man. “Before you go.” She stops him suddenly, grabbing a ripe fruit from the top of one of the bags. She tosses it his way, where he catches it with ease. “On the house.” She says as she resumes unpacking the bags.

His grin widens, thumbing the smooth skin of the mango as if in hope to find the subtle heat her fingertips had left behind on it. “I appreciate it.” His eyes glance up thankfully.

She lets her gaze wander over her shoulder where she makes contact with him one last time. A small smirk appears on her cocoa lips as she gives him a quick once over before turning back with a satisfied hum.

Wednesday morning

Palm trees stand still above the streets, no breeze to be felt. The rising sun already blazes, peeking out from behind the mountain tops with readiness. Rooftops glisten with heat, the usual busy streets not quite as busy today.

Despite this, the man decides to go for a jog, making sure to accidentally pass by a particular shop on his way through the city. His green running shorts bounce with each step, his shirt darkening as it gathers the moisture that rises from his brown skin.

The familiar shop then approaches. He hears that same radio music playing, it’s static seeming louder today. The doors are open, but no one joins her inside, so she spends her shift feeling the music instead. The shelf in front of her is just nearly stocked before she can’t help but dance to the beat coming from the front of the store. She moves slowly in place, twirling her wrists out to her sides. The window behind her allows the pastel pink and yellow of the sunrise glow to outline her body, nothing but her faint silhouette apparent to the man's eyes. He can't stop himself from staring in amazement, hypnotized and inspired by her body.

As she turns, he makes her out clearer now. Her large hoop earrings graze the side of her throat as she sensually rolls it to the song, beaded hair braids making music of their own as they gently clap together along her spine. The charm around her neck falls into the divot of her chest next to the small drops of sweat that dew the surface of her skin. He lets himself take in every detail of her beauty down to the very colors of the beads around her waist. The small glass spheres peek out over her skirt as she stretches her arms out above her head; green for vitality, red for love, black for protection.

She rotates once more in place. Then, as her eyes open, she can’t help but naturally focus on the familiar face in the doorway. He leans against the frame with an enraptured expression. However, instead of jumping back in surprise, she lets out a small laugh, letting her arms fall back down to her sides. She feels her shoulders drop gently, feeling an odd sensation of relaxation in his presence. “Do you always spy?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.

He pauses for a moment, chuckling to himself with an endearing smirk as he looks down at her. “Do you ever not stare at a rainbow?” 

She finds herself unable to say another word, finally allowing her lips to curl in a similar fashion. 

“Warm day for dancing, don’t you think?” He teases, crossing the barrier into the solitude of the shop.

But, she only shakes her head, taking small steps in his direction. “Never too warm for freedom.”

He can only smile more. “I like that.”  And her laugh makes a feeling in his chest become warmer than any Jamaican day.

Friday morning

The woman hangs laundry outside the yellow house, her cousins yelling in the yard next store as a small black and white ball gets kicked around in the lush green grass. 

The radio plays, as it always does, filling her company enough as the rest of her family busies themselves with a game. Her feet move, as they always do, filling her boredom as her hands repeat a similar motion.

She picks up a small, worn red shirt, grasping a pin in her other hand. As she raises her arms, her eyes instinctively focus on something behind the clothes line, someone. 

She chuckles, pinning the shirt to the line before giving him her full attention. “Back again.” She taunts playfully, walking from the laundry basket.

“Dancing again.” He takes notice with excitement. 

Her feet move towards the gate, casually drifting towards his side. “Of course.” She responds.

He stands in front of her gate, leaning his arms across the fence in wonder of crossing the other side. “I love that you can’t help but dance.” Her blush returns as does her gaze to the wet clothes hanging about the yard, but this makes his mind wonder even more. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

As she looks up, she’s met with a more captivated and earnest face than she had previously gotten used to, but she snickers it off. “You’ve a habit of saying that nowadays.”

He lets just barely a second pass between her words before he responds. “And I mean it more and more every time.”

Despite his earnesty, she laughs it off again, but her heart begins to speed faster with each word of cherishment she receives. “Is that why your eyes always trail my way?”

He chuckles. “When you find a beautiful flower, you can’t help but watch it blossom.”

She hums at his natural poetic way of speaking, finding it entertaining and having to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from smiling. “Many flowers you be finding?” She questions with teasingly squinted eyes.

He smiles at the suggestion. “None quite like you.”

Saturday evening

She locks the shop doors after making her last sale. Her back is heavy with exhaustion, her feet sore with work. She lets out a deep breath, closing her eyes to find her center and ease her stress for the time being, at least until she can make it back home. She slumps her bag over her shoulder and begins to walk, the moon beginning to climb the side of the mountains, shining through the telephone lines to light the dimming streets. But when she finally nears her front gate, she finds the man there once again.

He leans over the fencing just as he did the day before, staring longingly, almost nervously up at the faintly lit windows of the house.

“Bob.” She calls out quietly, almost in question as to why he’s there.

He turns in surprise as he hears the sound of her voice to his side and straightens his back out. His usual smile doesn’t yet appear on his face, which causes the woman’s stomach to worry. “Been looking for you. Wanted to talk to ya.” He stammers out.

She readjusts her bag nervously on her shoulder, quickly looking him up and down. “What ‘bout?”

He looks down at the ground and his throat bobs with a swallow. “I can’t stop thinking ‘bout you. All the time.” A chuckle escapes his lips, his cheeks blushing from the embarrassment of his own nervousness. He decides to just get it out finally, consumed by the feelings she brings him. “I want be with you.” He states with a soft firmness in his tone.

Her heart flutters but her brain tells her not to show it. “I thought you just flirting… not that you want me.” She challenges her feelings reluctantly so, not wanting to believe something so good.

He shakes his head with an unbelievable grin. “I want you like a tree wants soil… like a mango wants a cute shop in Kingston to be sold at.”

A laugh escapes her lungs before she looks tenderly up at him. “You’re sure?”

He takes a step forward, a teasingly dubious hum responds to her question. “You think me not know what I want?”

Her voice drops quieter as he nears her, feeling his air cascade down her skin. “What you know?” She breathes out.

He lets his belly fill and deplete with air once as he relishes in their energies beginning to finally collide. “I know I gotta fight for the things I believe in.”

Her hands reach forward to place above each breast of his, feeling them expand beneath her fingertips, feeling the distinct thump that echoes throughout his ribcage.

His gaze drops down to her lips but just as quick re-find her eyes, the want is there, but his need searches her eyes for her soul, not her touch.

“And what do you believe in?” She asks.

The hands once at his sides, reach out to cup her waist, thumb rolling over the small beads he had noticed only a few mornings ago, gently pressing the rounded glass against her skin.

The sensation sends a shiver through her body, causing her shoulders to shake and her bag to slide right off, thumping to the ground at her feet. A quite gasp escapes her lips as her eyes are forced to break away from his at the sudden disruption.

With a chuckle, he hooks his thumb under the strap, letting his fingertip graze the length of her arm. Her eyes can't leave his hand, feeling his subtle warmth cascade past her elbow and trickle down the sensitive bone of her forearm until the bag acquires balance on the concrete.

He lets the strap fall to the ground as well, then finds solace at her waist once again. His lips widen slightly before answering her. “One heart. You and I.”

Her breathing falters, wanting to reach out for him, but she can't help but disappointingly let her eyes break away from his again. “Had me heart broken more times I can count, Bob. How can I believe in the one?”

One hand is removed from her waist, reaching towards her face. He curls his fingers, placing them beneath her chin for her to rest upon. The thumping of his chest becomes more present to her, but her mind can only focus on the tingling of her cheek as his thumb rolls over it as it did her waist moments before.

Their eyes lock onto the others, not daring, not thinking to move away. She can feel him, and he her.

Her palms stream up the cloth of his button up towards his neck, simultaneous to him leaning forward for her, and then it happens. They collide.

His mouth is soft, barely moving, so he can make out the feeling of her warmth against him, make out the feeling of the passion that flows through each of her veins and connects with his. Their lips crash in the same way a wave can smoothly cascade a beach, but alter its sand entirely nonetheless. It is earth changing, weather inducing.

She holds his face against hers, the skin of their lips barely breaking away as their foreheads connect and their hearts press together to join as one.

His lashes fan between her own, opening to scan the emotion in her gaze, opening to make her a promise he intends to keep. “Well, here I am.”

Would you ever write fanfics of the new Bob Marley movie? Kingsley Ben Adir was amazing in it.

Yo lowkey! That actually sounds fun. He was really good in that movie, I'll think about it lmao