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The Pains We Endure | Chapter Four

Masterlist | Ao3

Chapter Summary: Edith prepares for her dinner with Aesop, looking forward to the future for the first time in a while. When the evening doesn't go as planned, she's forced to make a decision that earns Aesop's disapproval. (Aesop Sharp x OC)

Chapter Rating: M (We're getting a little darker now)

Chapter Warnings: Use of unforgiveable curses (the full trifecta, but no gory details), death (non descriptive), allusions to abusive relationship

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: This is the longest chapter yet, and the last update until sometime in December. I really loved writing this one, I hope you enjoy! 4 of 6.

—

Fifteen minutes was twenty minutes too many to be late for an engagement, but Edith found she was quickly exceeding it. Peeves had chosen the worst evening to prove that ink bottles were not suitable for juggling, which made Edith and several students delayed in leaving the library.

Edith certainly couldn’t rush getting ready. She had always taken an appropriate amount of pride in her appearance, but tonight was special. Never in her life had Edith wanted to look nice for someone, but she felt that way now. Perhaps it was a challenge. Aesop’s respect was hard won, after all. Or perhaps she simply liked the way he looked at her, a subtle gleam in his eye.

“A little of both.” Edith muttered to herself as she peered at her reflection, taming a particularly stubborn lock of hair.

Once she had triumphed, Edith took one last assessing look in the mirror. She wore a blue dress, modest in design and a little behind the current fashions, but it suited her figure nicely. Edith owned little jewelry, but the simple silver stud earrings and ribbon necklace met her preferred amount of subtlety. Everything in place. Edith wondered for a moment if the silver comb, with its little metalwork flowers, was too much, but she decided it added just the right amount of sparkle to her black hair.

Checking her watch, Edith quickened her pace. She couldn’t bear to use floo flames, the idea of soiling her dress with soot enough to make her itch. Surely Aesop would forgive her tardiness when she explained what kept her.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies had made a home in her stomach. Edith had not done something like this in… Well, she had never done something like this. Courtship. Or was she reading too much into Aesop’s invitation? What if she did something wrong? Each step that brought her closer to her destination heightened her anxiety.

And yet, she felt excited at what tonight could be. Thoughts of the night he almost kissed her were almost enough to keep her warm in the chilly evening air. It was colder outside than she had realized, even once she entered the bustling village.

The Three Broomsticks was just coming into view when she heard it.

A voice that made her steps falter, her blood going cold. Fear froze her breath in her lungs.

“Ello, Edie.”

Edith slowly turned to face him. Until the last second, she could think she was mistaken. She could pretend it wasn’t true. But of course it was. He hadn’t changed at all in two years. His dark hair was a little longer, his cheeks a little thinner, but those hazel eyes still bore into her with a dark intensity. Instinctively, Edith shrunk back.

“Jasper.”

“Don’t make a scene, now. Walk with me.” Jasper took her arm, feigning the role of a suitor, and pulled her forward. Battling a wave of fear-induced dizziness, Edith stumbled before falling into step beside him.

“How did you find me?” Edith hated how her voice trembled in fear. Couldn’t she even pretend to be brave?

“Can’t hide from me, Edie.” He flashed her a sinister smile. “But you know what I want. Just give it to me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

Edith wrenched her arm away from Jasper. “No! I’m not telling you anything.”

He grabbed hold of Edith again, shushing her. Jasper pulled her into the shadows, trapping her against a wall. “What did I say about making a scene? You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

Hardening her gaze, Edith met those cruel hazel eyes as they narrowed at her. “I-I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

Jasper drew his wand, holding it between them so it wasn’t obvious he was threatening her. “Then maybe I’ll remind you why you should be.”

—

Aesop was not overly concerned at fifteen minutes past the hour. Any number of things might have delayed Edith for such a short amount of time. At half the hour, he was sure she would be only a moment more, and ordered a firewhiskey before Sirona lost her patience.

With three quarters of the hour past, Aesop was not sure how to feel. Edith would not stand him up, he could not believe that. What if she had doubts? What if something serious had happened?

His pocket watch told him what Aesop accepted as the truth. It had been an hour, and Edith wasn’t coming. He drained the last of the firewhiskey and set the glass on the table with a thunk.

The sting of rejection and the uneasiness of concern warred within Aesop as he stepped into the chill night air. He was a man who always knew what his next move would be, but now he felt uncertain. Should he return to Hogwarts? Or take a walk through the village to clear his head and wait a little longer?

Aesop liked to think it was instinct, not wounded pride, that led him down the village lane to the right. Up past Zonko’s, which seemed intolerably cheerful to him tonight, ignoring the witches and wizards he passed going about their business.

As he reached Pippin's, Aesop paused, wondering if now might be a good time to discuss those ingredients for a cure. But it was getting late, and Aesop saw through the windows that he was closing up for the evening. The cold was getting to him, each step jarring the ache in his leg. Aesop just couldn't bring himself to go back yet.

He turned toward the bridge that spanned the creek running through the village. The moon was bright overhead, lighting up the cobblestones in front of him, the trees, the little house on the cliff.

That was when he saw her.

Edith stood at the edge of a cliff behind the Hog's Head, staring into the rocky water below. Aesop couldn’t see her face, but he could tell even from this distance that she looked pensive. She swayed in the chilly breeze, a breath away from pitching forward.

“Edith?”

She didn’t respond when he called out to her, and his tone shifted from confusion to alarm.

“Edith!”

The distance was short, but the terrain was difficult with his leg. He took a shortcut, clambering over the dilapidated stone wall between the bridge and the house, swearing when his limp almost caused him to pitch forward. Edith remained unmoving and silent when he called her name again.

A change seemed to come over her as Aesop finally reached her. Edith yelped in surprise, eyes widening in fear at the drop below, as if she didn’t know what she was doing there. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back from the edge. Aesop took her shoulders, prepared to ask her what the hell she was doing, when he heard a voice behind them.

“Might try staying out of things that aren’t your business. She was never going to fall, or jump, if you were worried.”

Aesop turned to the man, his argument dying on his lips. He recognized the face, only this time it was no boggart. Aesop drew his wand. “Stay back.”

“No need for that.” McNair looked around anxiously. “Edie and I have some business to discuss, don’t we, Edie?”

“I’m not telling you anything, so you might as well kill me.” Edith tried to put a bite in her voice, but it fell flat.

“That won’t do me any good, will it?” McNair demanded, stepping forward, wand raised.

Aesop stepped between them. The man was clearly volatile and not afraid to use unforgivable curses. McNair must have used imperio to get Edith to the cliff. He couldn’t rush this.

“Aesop, no,” Edith said behind him. “Please, just go.”

McNair looked at Aesop and laughed. “You make a new friend, Edie? He the best you can do? Well, maybe he’ll fare better than your last ones.”

“Expelliarmus!”

McNair deflected Aesop’s spell with a flick of his wand. “Call off your guard dog, Edie. Don’t want to make a habit of getting people killed.”

They were attracting attention now. Voices and pointing fingers directed to the three of them. Aesop saw McNair’s eyes shift as it put him on edge. Distracted him.

“Stupefy!”

Aesop’s spell would have hit true, but McNair disapparated in the knick of time. He turned to Edith. Her gaze was fixed on the spot where McNair had disappeared, mind somewhere else entirely. Edith shivered, but whether it was from the cold, fear, or a combination of both, he couldn’t tell.

He shrugged his coat off and draped it over her shoulders. Its green hues contrasted with her blue dress. Not that Aesop had an eye to notice such things.

The suddenness of the warmth, eclipsing the cold she felt within and without, brought Edith’s mind back to the here and now. Her heart raced and her fingers were numb, but Edith was suddenly aware of two conflicting, life-altering truths.

She looked up into Aesop’s inscrutable gaze. “Why is it you always appear when I need you?”

“Edith.” This time, his gaze did not soften when he spoke her name. “I think we should talk.”

With Aesop’s hand at her elbow, they made their way to the Three Broomsticks in silence. Edith hugged his coat closer. It smelled like him, and that was a comfort. It was a scent she wanted to commit to memory.

Once they settled in a corner, a cup of tea and a firewhiskey sitting between them, Aesop fixed her with a stare.

Edith studied the pattern of the wooden table, feeling his eyes on her. “Go ahead. Ask me.”

“This man clearly has some kind of hold over you. What did he mean by getting people killed?”

Taking a deep breath, Edith finally looked up and met his steely gaze. “This is not an easy story for me to tell, Aesop. But I think you deserve to know exactly what happened that night.”

Aesop settled in his chair, lifting the glass of firewhiskey. His stare remained fixed on her, giving her the whole of his attention. “Go on.”

A drink of tea for courage, and then a deep breath. “It all started when our friend Simon quit his job at the auror office. He had found this book, you see…”

—

June 15, 1887

Flames crackling in the hearth were the only source of light and sound in the little house. Hands shaking, Edith tied together bundles of herbs for drying, but her mind was not on her work. Edith's thoughts remained on her friends, and the strange book they were delivering to a trusted contact. How they put themselves in danger to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands.

How she was useless with the kinds of magic that could help them. No, Edith's talents were with her enchantments and her plants and finding obscure knowledge in books, but she could never fight. Her housemates never let her forget that.

Four resounding cracks echoed in the room. Edith dropped the bundle in her hand with a start, sending herbs across the floor. She jumped up when she saw Finn, leaning heavily on Iris, his arm bent and bleeding.

Zara's authoritative voice cut through the air. “Is Jasper here?”

Edith shook her head, leaning in to look at Finn's arm. "I haven't seen him today."

“I knew it,” Zara growled. “Edith, I’ve told you for weeks, ever since I overheard him talking to that Malfoy fellow in the Leaky Cauldron. You can’t trust him!”

Zara hadn’t realized the impact her warnings had on Edith. She had noticed things about Jasper since Zara had pointed it out: the way he acted around them, the way he treated Edith when they were alone. It had culminated in an argument with him last night. Too little, too late, as they say.

"I know, I didn't-"

"He'll know we've come here to regroup," said Simon. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute and he won't be alone."

"We could go into hiding. The place we talked about last year." Zara glanced at everyone in turn.

They all knew the place in question. The location chosen to regroup if something went wrong. None of them would dare speak it aloud in case someone was listening, but they all nodded in understanding.

They all felt a shudder through the air. The wards Zara and Simon had placed on the house before they left were being attacked. It wouldn't be long now.

“Zara, take the others and go,” Simon said, his voice low. “I’ll hold them off.”

“Simon… no,” Zara pled.

“I’ll join you if I can. We can’t let anyone get the book, you know that.”

Zara looked between Simon, the others, and the door, then back to Simon. She kissed him twice, and touched her forehead to his. “I love you.”

Edith was gathering her apothecary box on the other side of the room. She couldn't leave without it, especially given the state of Finn's arm. Jars rattled, Edith's hands shaking as she hurriedly scooped up everything she could. She heard the other behind her, snatching up essentials they could apparate with.

"Bombarda!"

The door flew inward with a crash, dust and plaster pluming in the air. The tall, imposing presence of Jasper McNair filled the doorframe.

Until this moment, Edith hadn't had to admit to herself that she had been wrong. That she had been foolish and naïve. That she had put her friends in danger because of it. But now he stood there, a wicked smile on his face that he had never dared to wear in front of her before, and there was no more doubt. No more pretending. This was all her fault.

"Jasper, no!" she cried, pulling his attention from the others for a split second.

“Stupefy!”

Edith fell back against the wall as the spell hit her squarely on the chest. Her head spinning, she could just comprehend what occurred next, at the fringe of her senses.

Simon stood protectively in front of the other three, his wand pointed at Jasper. "Zara, now!"

“Sorry, Edith,” Zara muttered as she, Finn, and Iris disapparated.

Simon and Jasper traded spells, the lights bright in Edith's eyes as she slowly got to her feet. She fumbled for her wand.

"S-Stupefy!" The spell hit, but it did not flare with light like ones Jasper and Simon flung at each other.

Her fear would be her undoing.

The distraction it created was enough to give Simon a small opening, and he took advantage of it. He hit with another spell, knocking Jasper backward.

"Enough of this!" Jasper screamed. “Avada Kedavra!”

“Simon!” Edith screamed as the man fell to the floor with a thud.

Jasper stood and brushed himself off. He turned his stony gaze on Edith.

"Jasper... Why?" There were so many questions wrapped up in that one little word. It felt pointless to ask now.

Jasper chuckled. “You always thought you were so clever, Edie. But you were too easily molded. Bet you don't feel so clever now.”

Edith swallowed. Manipulated. Used. Lied to. She had wanted to be wanted so badly that she was blind to all of it.

He advanced toward her, smirking. “But then, you’d never suspect me. I said I love you, didn’t I?”

He stopped in front of her. “You’re such a silly girl, Edie.”

"It's over now, Jasper," Edith said, her voice shaking like the rest of her. "The book isn't here and the others are long gone now."

“But you know where they went. Why don’t you stop being silly, and just tell me where they took it.” He closed the distance, trapping Edith between himself and the wall. “Just tell me the truth, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

“No.”

Edith could never make up for the harm she caused, but she didn't have to make it worse. Even if it killed her.

Jasper grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back, lips twitching into a smirk when Edith cried out. He pressed the tip of his wand to her throat. “You know you don’t like it when I’m rough with you, Edie,” he hissed in her ear. “Well, you don’t know how rough I can be.”

Edith strained against him. “I’m not telling you anything!”

Jasper yelled in frustration, throwing Edith to the floor. “We’ll do it the fun way, then.”

“Crucio!”

—

Edith reached for her tea, the end of her tale hanging between them, suspended in the tense silence. She felt the weight of it on her shoulders, keeping her head bowed.

“You make it easy for him to exploit it. The way you blame yourself.”

Edith finally looked at him, her brow furrowing.

“Why shouldn’t I? I led Jasper right to them. It could have been two against one, but I couldn’t help Simon.”

“You tried. That counts for something.”

“But not enough,” Edith argued. “If I hadn’t been so useless, he might not have…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

Aesop leaned forward, laying his hand atop hers. “Edith, Simon knew what he was doing. Your friend Zara had suspicions of her own about McNair and barely acted on them. It was not your fault alone.”

“But I do share the blame,” Edith pointed out.

“Do not forget that I understand exactly how you feel. I caused the death of my partner. Indirectly, perhaps, but much of the fault lies with me. I know there is nothing I can say that will take away your guilt. But history need not repeat itself if you learn from it.”

Edith sighed. She looked down at Aesop’s hand resting on hers. Silence stretched between them. Edith knew there was wisdom in his words, but her heart would not listen. All she saw were visions of Jasper McNair hurting people - killing people - because she did not act.

"What now?" Aesop's voice cut through those images, bringing her gaze to his. "What will you do?"

Her heart sank. Edith knew exactly what she would do. "I must speak with Matilda."

Edith was pensive as they made their way back to Hogwarts. Aesop's coat still enveloped her shoulders, and she held it close. She was getting used to its weight, its warmth.

"Thank you, by the way. I never said." Edith gestured to the coat.

He answered with a wry smile. "It looked like you need it more than I."

When they entered the castle, she reluctantly shrugged it off and held it out to him. It made her feel comfortable. Protected. Things she didn't want to feel in the conversation she had planned.

Aesop quirked an eyebrow as he took the coat back, sliding it onto his broad shoulders. His gaze traveled over Edith, briefly, taking in her appearance properly for the first time that night. Edith was a little disheveled, but the overall effect of her efforts was not diminished.

The night was not supposed to be like this.

Under Aesop's gaze, which was quickly filling with concern at the look on her face, Edith steeled herself. Then she headed toward Matilda's office.

Aesop struggled to keep up with Edith’s purposeful strides. She almost hoped he would give up - he would not like what came next, she just knew it. But their difference in height made up for the mobility difference, and he was never far behind.

Matilda looked up in surprise when Edith waltzed into her office without knocking. “Edith, you look lovely this evening. Whatever is the matter?”

“Jasper has found me. We just encountered him in Hogsmeade.”

Matilda’s face fell. “My dear, I’m so sorry. Were you hurt?”

“No.” Edith’s gaze slid to Aesop, and Matilda seemed to understand. “But Matilda, you know what this means. I have to leave Hogwarts.”

“Edith,” Aesop objected at the same time Matilda tutted.

“Dear girl, you cannot be serious.” Matilda came around to the other side of the desk. “Aren’t you tired of running from him? We could fetch the aurors, have justice served.”

Edith shook her head. “You know he has friends in the ministry. He’ll just get away again.”

Aesop stepped up beside her. “This cannot be your answer to what happened.”

“Jasper is dangerous. We all know that. If I stay, I’ll be putting innocent people in danger. Maybe students. I can’t do that. I won’t.”

“He’s a wanted man whose shown his face in the village,” Aesop reminded her. “He won’t act rashly.”

“Aesop is right. He wouldn’t take that risk, not now. And he cannot reach you here at the school.”

Edith took a steadying breath. “My mind is made up. There is a train to London from Hogsmeade Station tomorrow evening. I will be on it. Perhaps one day I can return.”

Matilda frowned, folding her arms. “Stubborn girl.” She looked at Aesop, as if to say “Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

“I’m sorry, Matilda. If I could see any other way… But I just can’t.”

“I hope you change your mind, Edie.” Matilda’s voice filled with concern and irritation. “If you come to your senses and realize you have other options, you know where to find me.”

Aesop was silent as he escorted Edith back to her quarters, their paces evenly matched. She sensed the irritation coming off him in prickly waves.

“I know you are trying to find the words to convince me not to leave, but there are none. I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t. As Matilda said, you are safe here. You have paths you may not have had before. Choose another.”

His tone reminded her of when they first met, the one he no doubt used on his students often. Impatience. Disappointment.

They came to a stop in front of her door, and she turned to face him. “I know what Matilda said. She isn’t always right.”

“Of course she is right, and you know it.” Aesop looked her over, his gaze softening a little. “And it’s not the only thing she was right about.”

“What do you mean?”

He cupped her face, his warm palm fitting softly against the curve of her cheek. “You look lovely, Edith.”

Their gazes locked for a long moment, seeing visions in each other’s eyes of what the night might have been like if things had gone as planned. Edith could see his mind at work, plotting, surely, before he turned away. She watched his back as he limped to his own rooms.

Their eyes met one last time before he went inside, and Edith felt a pang of something in her chest.

Two years running from Jasper.

It had never felt so painful to leave a place before.

—

A clatter resounded through the study as Mirabel set her teacup down with an exclamation. “What do you mean? You can’t just up and leave in the middle of the school year without an explanation.”

"It's almost time for Christmas break. I'm sure no one will feel my absence when classes resume."

"Edith, that's simply not true."

Mirabel took Edith's shoulders and turned her around, forcing her to look up from the books she was packing. The earnestness in the redhead's eyes was touching. "I miss you terribly already. As will Matilda. And you know Professor Ronen will miss those little charmed flowers you leave everywhere."

A smile flickered over Edith's face for a moment. "Well, I'm sure you will manage without me."

Mirabel sighed. "I just wish you would tell me what's wrong. Perhaps I could help."

When Edith didn't answer, Mirabel pressed. "Did something happen with Professor Sharp last night?"

That was enough to elicit a reaction. Edith's head snapped up. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, yesterday you were so excited about having dinner with him, and today you are leaving. Was the evening not what you expected?"

Edith felt a flutter run through her. It was dangerously close to the truth, while being dangerously incorrect at the same time.

"No. No, Aesop has done nothing wrong." Her voice was soft. "Quite the opposite."

"I'm glad to hear it. But it doesn't explain why you are leaving."

"It's a long story," Edith said, turning back to her bookshelf. "But it is necessary."

The redhead's brow furrowed. "You are doing little to assuage my worry."

"I know." Edith wasn't sure how to tell Mirabel that she should be worried. Edith certainly was.

"At least promise to keep in touch."

A sad smile. "I shall do my best."

Edith surveyed the room. She had packed up the most essential items in her trunk, but she could not take everything tonight. "I suppose I'll have to arrange for the rest to be delivered."

“I will look after these plants for you.” Mirabel gestured to the few that Edith had to leave behind. They were common plants, things that Edith could easily pick up and grow again when she settled for a while. Edith carefully stored the rare, difficult plants in her trunk, using enchantments. “You have a few hours before your train, don’t you? Say you’ll join me for one last cup of tea.”

Swallowing back tears that threatened to break her composure, Edith smiled. “One last cup.”

—

In the midst of a restless night, Aesop had come to a decision. An idea that might convince Edith not to leave. Something that would make her understand that everyone at Hogwarts wanted her to stay.

That he wanted her to stay.

Thus, he spent most of the day preparing what Aesop expected to be a grand gesture, especially coming from him. When he was prepared, when the words were in his mind, he made his way to Edith's quarters. Aesop glanced at his pocket watch. An hour and a half before her train.

Just enough time.

But when he arrived, finding the door standing open, Aesop was surprised to see Mirabel sitting in front of the fire. Edith was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Edith?" He did not bother with ceremony, impatience coloring his tone.

Mirabel looked up in surprise. She was apparently finishing a cup of tea as she stared into the fire. She stood and walked toward him. "Aesop, do you know why she's leaving?"

"Where is she?" Aesop repeated.

"She received notice that the train timetable was misprinted. It leaves an hour earlier than she expected." Mirabel shook her head. "Edith has already left."

“Damn!”

Aesop thrust what he was holding into Mirabel’s hands and stormed down the hall.

She looked down in confusion, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "Aesop?" Mirabel called after him, but he ignored her.

Aesop had never realized that Hogsmeade Station was so bloody far away. Even employing the use of floo flames, he had underestimated the distance.

Of course, he had never wanted to get there so quickly before.

He almost sighed in relief when he saw Edith standing on the platform, no train in sight. Bathed in the golden colors of the fading sun, the sadness etched on her features was prominent. Her anxiety was obvious in how she clutched the handle of her satchel. Edith was staring down the tracks, watching for the train, though Aesop could guess the train itself was the last thing on her mind. He reached the edge of the platform and called out to her.

Roused from the private pity party in her mind by the sound of her name, Edith looked up. “Aesop?” His limp seemed more pronounced, and he was out of breath as he joined her on the platform.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"I couldn't find you. I thought you were angry."

"Furious."

"You came all this way to tell me that?"

"No." Aesop sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I came to tell you that you are acting like a naïve child, repeating the same impulsive mistake you’ve made several times in the past and expecting a different outcome.”

Edith stiffened, her eyebrows lifting. His tone was not especially harsh, but his words were wounding. “Your point?”

"Is that who you want to be?"

Scoffing, Edith shook her head. "We can't change who we are."

"Of course we can. We have no power over the things that happen to us. But we have a choice in how we react to them." Aesop closed the distance between them, dark eyes intense as his gaze met hers. "You have a choice now, Edith. Fear or bravery. Do you let him win? Or do you refuse to let him hurt you anymore?"

“Don’t you understand? I don’t care that he hurts me. Only that he hurts others to do it. If that means a life of caring for no one so that he can’t use them, then I’m willing to accept it.”

A frustrated growl force itself past Aesop’s lips. “Is that really want you want? To spend your life running away? He will always have this hold over you unless you free yourself from him.”

“I can’t even defend myself from a boggart!”

“Then you’ll learn.”

Edith faltered. It sounded like such a straightforward solution when he said it like that. As if it was that simple.

Aesop took her hand, his fingers tightening around hers to emphasize his words. “You’re not alone anymore. You have a faculty full of experienced witches and wizards who would help you. We can figure this out together if you stay.”

His rationale was an assault, tearing holes in the walls Edith had constructed. Leaving had always been the easier option. She had been resolved, had made peace with the pain of walking away from Hogwarts. It was different this time, no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise. The very thought of leaving her friends, her colleagues, had filled her heart with anguish, but Edith had buried it because she knew it was the right choice.

Aesop was not a man to let things stay buried.

Flurries of snow descended around them, and Edith blinked one from her eyelashes. “I told you no words could convince me.”

“I know.”

Aesop’s hand found her waist, and he tugged her close. He pressed his lips to Edith’s, a kiss so passionate and tender that it far surpassed her imagination. It didn’t last long enough, and she soon felt the bite of cold air where his mouth had been.

“Stay with me.” his husky voice growled in her ear.

Edith stared up at him, her heart racing. She didn’t know what to say. Maybe she didn’t need to say anything. Her fingers grasped his lapel, and she pulled him into another kiss. Edith dropped her satchel to the ground, her fingers curling in his hair as she leaned into him. The kiss grew heated, their mouths moving in harmony. The rest of the world melted away so completely, Edith almost didn’t notice the sound of the train pulling into the station behind them.

Their lips parted, but neither of them moved. They stared at each other, catching their breath. Aesop raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

"You really think I can learn?"

"If I can teach Weasley not to blow up a cauldron, I can teach you to defend yourself."

"But you haven't taught Weasley not to blow up a cauldron."

Aesop chuckled. "I'm expecting you to be a better student."

His fingers danced over the back of her neck. "Say you'll stay."

Her voice was a whisper against his cheek. "I'll stay."

Aesop's arm around her waist tightened, and their lips met again. As the snow fell in earnest, Edith filled with a warmth she had not felt in years.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #aesop sharp #aesop sharp x oc #professor sharp

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