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sugarquillz · 9 months

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Sorrow - Safety Ch 6

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst (but also fluff)

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Five

He should have known better.

That’s all he could think from the moment Constance had stormed off, the fresh wounds from her words still bleeding out. It’s all he thought when he made his way to the Undercroft, allowing a fire of anger to burn to keep a sea of tears at bay. It’s all he thought when he heard her voice, when he turned away, ignoring the painful sting in his chest as he left her there. And it was all he thought when Sebastian came, dragging him back up to the common room, insisting he at least try and sleep.

He was glad his fallen tears had dried long before Sebastian came for him. Anger was an easier emotion to describe—it was one Sebastian had seen on Ominis before, and could therefore understand. But that deeper hurt—that feeling of betrayal and remorse that made his eyes burn—that was one he didn’t want even Sebastian to see.

Ominis couldn’t sleep. The words that Constance had said—words she had once said—still echoed in his mind.

Look at you, nothing but pure evil. A disgrace to magic.

No wonder you had to precure a bride—no one would willingly choose you.

I pity the monster you are.

There were more things Constance’d said. An entire torrent of insults, of partial truths, of words he’d tried for years to stop saying to himself. And it was all back in a flash.

To think, it had all come from the first person he’d put his trust in in years.

That was what hurt the most. Not the words themselves. Not even Constance’s cruel tone of voice. No, it was the fact that just that morning, he’d smiled a bit at the idea of greeting her. Mere moments before, he’d hummed the simple song he’d taught her on piano. He’d let himself think for even a second that she could see past the blood that ran through his veins.

And it all tumbled down.

So he paced, unable to sleep, in the Slytherin common room. Sebastian sat on a sofa, and after a good several minutes of his friend’s relentless steps, he sighed.

“I thought you were going to try to get some rest after coming up here,” he said.

“And I thought I’d told you I’d be in this state whether here or in the Undercroft. You should have just let me stay there.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Sebastian said, quietly.

Ominis whirled around, facing his friend. There was something in his tone. Some sort of admittance. “Why? Why have you dragged me up here?”

“She…” Sebastian hesitated a bit. “She didn’t have anywhere to stay the night.”

Ominis’s jaw dropped, and his shock quickly gave way to more fury. More betrayal. “So you pulled me out for her sake? After all she’s done?”

“She hasn’t done anything,” Sebastian said, standing up from the sofa. “Last I checked, it was Constance who came to torment you.”

“And where did Constance get all that?” Ominis fired back. “You think she came up with all that herself? She was just repeating what’d been fed to her.”

Ominis knew this much to be true. A lot of what Constance had said had been echoes of Y/N’s words when they’d gotten the news of the engagement. Coming from her, with anger over the situation, with knowing that she had never known him before—well, that was easier to forgive. To look past. But having been lied to, tricked into thinking she viewed him differently only to be proven completely wrong was painful.

“Y/N told you she was wrong about you,” Sebastian said. “Her friend’s opinions are her own.”

Ominis’s lip curled in a near snarl. “She didn’t even try to stop her from coming to me.”

“She didn’t have the chance.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, didn’t have the chance?”

“Constance stole a letter from her parents, and she went off to find you while Y/N was still in class. She had no idea, not until she fought with Constance and went to you to apologize.”

Ominis frowned, taking in Sebastian’s words. “They fought?” He asked.

“Yeah. It… must have been pretty bad. She didn’t tell me much, but it sounded like she took your side. She was—well, she was a bit of a mess over all of it. Over hurting you.” Sebastian gave a small, humorless chuckle. “Kept asking how you were.”

She’d… defended him? The memory of them outside the Undercroft came flooding back to him. Her tone, shaky and desperate. And his returning voice—defensive and fierce. She’d just stood up to her friend, her best friend the moment she spoke out against him, and he’d returned the favor with nothing but more anger. Would he have done the same? If Sebastian had confronted her, would he have thrown all caution to the wind to stand against him, risking it all for a newly formed friendship?

He wasn’t even sure.

She couldn’t even sleep in the same room as her friend. That’s why Sebastian had taken her to the Undercroft, wasn’t it? To stay away from the friendship she may have just shattered for his sake.

What was the last thing he had said to her? I should never have let you in.

His heart fell. He had been so quick to let his emotions control him. He’d chosen to forget how clear the regret had been when she’d apologized in the past, how just as much as he’d let her in, she’d done the same.

He’d figured she still thought the worst of him. And in fear, he did the same.

He ran a hand through his hair, sitting silently on the sofa. “Merlin, I…” He let out a shaky breath. “You… you said she was a mess. Is she alright?”

Sebastian sat down in the chair across from him. “She will be, I think.”

“I should go talk to her. Apologize,” Ominis said, preparing himself to stand before Sebastian interrupted his thoughts.

“Let her get some sleep,” he said. “You can talk to her in the morning. You’ll both think clearer after some rest.”

Ominis scoffed a bit. As if he would be able to sleep at all. But he figured he’d done enough damage for that day—best to leave something for tomorrow.

He dragged himself up to bed, not even bothering to lay under the covers as he settled there. In the morning, he thought to himself. In the morning he’d try to make things right.

The night had dragged on, until finally, he simply couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled on his uniform and rushed to straighten his hair, bypassing the typical care he gave it. It was only a few minutes before he found himself trekking down to the Undercroft, the familiar creaks of the door sounding as he entered.

She wasn’t there.

Instead, all he found was a few neatly stacked blankets, tucked into a corner. He brushed his hand over them, noting the sweet scent of vanilla still clinging to them. He frowned a bit. Perhaps she had gone back up to the Ravenclaw tower sometime in the night. Maybe she’d fixed things with Constance, realizing she shouldn’t have tried to offer any of her sympathy for him. He couldn’t blame her if she had.

Ominis stayed there a moment, wondering what to do. He needed to think. He left his secret sanctuary to head for another, walking the familiar path to the music room.

And unlike every other time he’d arrived, someone was already there.

The piano player was clearly inexperienced. The notes were choppy, and more often than not, wrong. But he could still make out the melody through the mistakes, and it brought a small smile to his lips.

She hit one particularly sour note, and he stepped into the room before he could overthink his approach. “It’s a c, not an f. Though your choice certainly has some sort of flair to it.”

She whirled around, hands dropping off the keys in a sudden lurch of silence. “Ominis,” she said softly. After a slight breath, she began a torrent of words, standing from where she was sitting on the bench. “Ominis, I’m so sorry. I had no idea what she was doing until she had done it, please don’t think I still think those things of you. I’m so—”

He said her name gently, approaching her. “Sebastian explained things to me. It’s me who should be apologizing.”

He heard the sigh that left her lips. “No, this is all my fault. You were hurt. I can’t blame you for being angry. I… I don’t even want to know what things she said. What things… what things I used to say to her.”

He reached out, placing a careful hand on her arm and pulling her down to sit on the bench once more. He sat beside her, letting his hand fall away. “But you don’t think those things anymore?”

It came out as more of a question than he had intended. He realized he needed to hear her say it—to reassure him. Thankfully, she was more than willing to give him that.

“Of course not,” she said. Her voice was thick, as if she were on the verge of tears. “I would take it all back if I could. Every word. You… you’re good, Ominis. And kind, under all that sarcasm of yours.”

He chuckled a bit as she continued.

“Kinder than I deserve.”

He frowned. “Well, I wasn’t very kind to you last night. I… I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry. I value our friendship, despite it’s strange beginnings. I hope it can continue, even after all this.”

Her hand came back up to the keys, tracing over them. “I would like that,” she said softly.

The relief that filled him so completely surprised him. He hadn’t been wrong to place his trust in her. She had done the same—and they’d managed to navigate through this storm. But another worry still ate at him.

“You and Constance,” Ominis said. He felt her tense up beside him. “Sebastian said the two of you fought?”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I can’t blame her for being angry with me. I lied to her. But she—she shouldn’t have taken that letter. She had no right.”

“I agree,” Ominis said. “But can I ask… Why did you lie to her in the first place? I’m not saying you were wrong to, but why keep that from her?”

She hesitated before speaking. “I wanted something to feel normal,” she said softly. “I wanted… I wanted something to stay unchanged. Something to not feel like it wasn’t falling apart. Let myself pretend it was all fine, you know?”

Of course he knew. He knew all too well.

“It wasn’t fair of me, but I forced her to be that.” She laughed bitterly. “Funny. Now I doubt things will ever be the same with her again.”

“You don’t think she’ll forgive you?”

“I haven’t got a clue,” she admitted. “I took my side when we fought. And I didn’t choose her.”

You chose me, Ominis thought. He hated the small bit of warmth that thought brought to his chest—hated it because something she cared for had been broken, but it had been for his sake.

“I’m sure she’ll see sense in time,” he assured her. “She made her own mistakes. I’m sure she’ll recognize that she wasn’t fair to you, either.”

“Maybe.” The word sounded so full of defeat it nearly broke Ominis’s heart. He wished he could fix this for her—it was a strange desire, one he had never felt before. Not even for Anne or Sebastian. When they made mistakes, when things went wrong because of choices they had made, it was usually easy to step back and let things play out. Of course he would comfort them—but he also knew they had to deal with their consequences. That was just how it went.

But for her… well, if he had the power, he’d wave his wand and set everything right.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was a spell for that.

He placed his hands on the keys, beside her own. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Not much,” she admitted.

“Still,” he said, small smile curling the corners of his lips. “You’re improving.”

“Ah, yes, my lovely rendition of the song you heard when you arrived surely proved that.”

He chuckled. “I very much enjoyed the melodic liberties you were taking.”

“I’m glad someone was. Sounded awful to me.”

“Not awful. Just abstract.”

He felt her mood lighten. Perhaps he couldn’t fix everything. But he could make it a little better.

“Would you play something?” she asked.

Her question took him a bit by surprise. But he found himself unable to turn it down. “Of course,” he said. She took her hand from the piano, and laid it on her lap. He allowed himself to spread his fingers over the keys, and began.

He wasn’t used to playing for an audience. But any nerves he may have disappeared the moment the music began to swell. That was how it always was. He could get lost in the notes and chords, and he’d stay there as long as he could.

Even as he found himself in the music, he found a small thought in the back of his head hoping she felt the same. That he could let her escape with him, even for a few minutes.

When those minutes ended, when his song was complete and he lifted his hands from that final chord, they let the following silence linger for a moment. It was… intimate. Sacred. It was a little overwhelming, if he was honest, and he found himself needing to break it.

“Breakfast will be starting soon,” he said softly, hardly more than a whisper.

“Yes,” she said.

“You can sit with me and Sebastian,” he said. Then he realized that that was quite the suggestion, and that it was perhaps too much. “If you want, of course. I just thought I’d offer, considering…”

“I think I’ll accept your kind offer.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice. One he couldn’t help but be glad to hear.

“Well then,” he replied. “I suppose we should be off before my menace of a friend steals all the pastries.”

She laughed, and he felt lighter.

If Sebastian was surprised to see the two of them walk into the Great Hall together, he didn’t let it show in the slightest. He was quick to scoot down a bit on his usual place on the bench, providing room for her. It wasn’t unheard of for students of other houses to sit at different tables—really, the only time the unofficial ‘rule’ was strictly followed was the grand feasts at the beginning and end of the year. Still, she seemed a little tense. He could hear he she shifted nervously in her seat, the way her breath was just a little more shallow than normal.

“Apple tart?” Sebastian said, offering it out to her. She took it.

“Thank you.”

“Do you have another?” Ominis asked.

“Nope,” Sebastian said, eating the last bite of his own tart. She chuckled from beside the two of them.

“Wonderful. Glad to see you’re already favoring your new friendship,” Ominis said dryly.

“Well, she hasn’t ever done anything to piss me off,” Sebastian reasoned.

“I can’t promise it’ll stay that way,” she said.

Sebastian shrugged. “S’alright. I’ll still prefer you to Ominis any day.”

Her laugh was cut short, and Ominis quickly assumed why. “Is she looking at us?”

“She did for a moment,” she said softly. “But she’s gone to sit down now. She… she seems fine.”

The three were quiet for a moment before Sebastian changed the subject by offering her some bacon.

The days passed much the same as that breakfast had. It was strange, Ominis thought, that she hadn’t been by their side for so much longer. Letting her into their group had nearly been effortless. Part of Ominis thought it was because he and Sebastian had always been so used to a trio. She filled the space Anne had left. But it was more than that—she brought her own things to the table. They were quick to realize that she was a Ravenclaw, through and through. She was always learning something new. From practicing charms to memorizing her favorite poems to picking up new hobbies, there was always something. And she was always eager to share it with the both of them.

Ominis found it quite endearing when she would track him down in the library, tossing a book on the table, ready to show off whatever new trick she’d learned. She didn’t always get it perfect, of course—at least not on the first try. But her determination to figure out where she had gone wrong was impressive.

“What are you doing now?” he asked, hearing her fiddle with something as they sat across from each other in the library.

“Knitting,” she answered. She paused for a moment, observing her work. “At least, I’m trying to knit. I’m not sure I’ve quite got it right.”

“Knitting?” he asked, small smirk on his face. “Is there anything you haven’t tried your hand at yet?”

“Oh, plenty. But I’ll get around to them eventually, I’m sure.”

He chuckled, leaving his textbook on the table as he turned his attention more fully to her. “What sort of things have you already mastered?”

“Mastered is a bit of a stretch, but there are a fair few things I’d consider myself adequate at,” she said. “I’ve tried my hand at embroidery, sewing, crochet… there wasn’t a lot to do in the manor growing up. I had to entertain myself most of the time, so I made it a habit to try whatever I could.” She smiled. “There was even a summer I got pretty good at baking. Of course, when my father caught wind that Diane was sneaking me into the kitchens, he put a stop to it real quick.”

He felt the slight shift in her mood, and knew her mind was wandering into unpleasant memories. It was a feeling he knew.

“Diane?” he asked, hoping to shift away her worries for a moment.

“She’s a servant at our manor. She’s… well, she’s wonderful. Raised me more than my parents ever did,” she said. “She’s the only thing I miss when I’m not home.”

He hummed. “Seems like she would get my approval, sneaking you into the kitchens and all that.”

She laughed. “What about you? Any Dianes you have, or did I just get that lucky?”

Ominis smiled fondly. “My Aunt Noctua. Truly the only good thing to ever come from my bloodline,” he said.

“Besides yourself,” she amended.

“It’s all thanks to her,” he said. “She always treated me kindly, even before I got my wand and could prove myself. When my mother would complain about how hard it was to raise me, she’d take me to her home for a few days, telling me I didn’t have to believe her. I didn’t have to believe any of them.”

He trailed off a bit, getting lost in the strange mix of hopeful and heartbreaking memories. “She was the only person I ever considered real family.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Was?” she asked softly.

He gave a solemn nod. “She disappeared several years ago. No one knows what happened to her. My father didn’t ever seem too concerned about her fate, and I was too young to do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I miss her terribly. But having known her makes me all the more determined to become someone she’d be proud of.”

She reached across the table, placing a hand on his wrist. “I think you’re well on your way to doing that,” she told him. “It seems a part of her lives on in you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, mouth gaping open as a strange prickling started behind his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. She’d be happy to see me have a friend like you.”

The topic changed after that. He asked more about knitting, more about baking and Muggle books and poetry. She didn’t hesitate to share these parts of her. And he didn’t hesitate to memorize every word.

Mere days before, he’d worried his worst fears were true. That there was no one he could trust. That he was doomed to be as lonely as he’d always been.

How glad he was that he was wrong.

A/N: Oh my gosh thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the kind comments and asks I've received recently for this series!!! Seriously, it's made me so excited to keep writing it! You're all amazing, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

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sugarquillz · 9 months

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Truce - Safety Ch 3

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of bad parenting (not explicitly abusive, but will dive more into it in later chapters...)

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Two

The last week had brought nothing but disappointment. Ominis sent a letter off to his parents, trying to reason with them. He played a bit dirty, if he was honest—trying to appeal to the worst parts to their natures to call them off. He told them how Y/N was a Ravenclaw, and would taint the family line of Slytherins. How she didn’t seem to agree with her family ideals. How she didn’t seem to respect the name of Gaunt, and therefore didn’t deserve it.

None of it worked.

After a few more excruciating days after sending them that letter, he received one in return. Not only were they so dead set on marrying Ominis off, but they seemed determined that it had to be her. He had a sinking suspicion as to why, and if his theory was correct… well, his parents might rest at nothing to see this union come through.

He tried his best to keep things together, convincing himself he still needed to focus on classes and get his homework completed. It was difficult. He couldn’t get rid of the nagging voice in his head trying to convince him his life was practically ending.

His whole life, Ominis had kept the secret hope that one day, he might fall in love. The thought of it scared him. Excited him. He’d thought that after school, he’d move somewhere far away from the clinging grasp of his family and settle down. He’d get used to the feeling of being himself without any of his current inhibitions. And maybe, just maybe, a wonderful woman would come his way and keep him in the warmth of her embrace. They were nothing but idle fantasies. Hopes that felt so far off they were foolish to keep. But kept them he had. Now they were shattered.

Still, he kept going, burying his troubled thoughts and pressing on day by day.

It was hard to not have a newfound awareness when it came to Y/N. They were connected in their misery. He found himself listening more intently when her name was mentioned or when she entered a room, slight scent of vanilla giving her away. If she had made any progress on her end, it didn’t show. She seemed to be moping around the castle as much as he was, her friend Constance constantly asking her if she was listening or why she was frowning at the floor.

Hearing about her odd behavior only upset Ominis more. The poor girl didn’t deserve to share in his fate—Ominis may have been able to carry on with his family if he didn’t feel the guilt of dragging her along with him. He had lived the first seventeen years navigating his way around them—head gotten rather good at it, subtly getting them to give him at least a little of what he wanted. But he couldn’t do that this time.

The two of them hadn’t spoken since their detention together. Their last conversation seemed to ignite a truce between them. She hadn’t been even close to rude or insufferable lately, which was a great improvement. He supposed it was best they hadn’t spoken at all—that was normal for them, of course. Even so, he figured it might be best to talk to her and see if she had had any luck on her end. He doubted it, if he was honest, but it would be good to know.

It took him much longer to write the note to her than he would have liked. Because her hatred for him was just beginning to ebb, he felt it was important that he worded it just right. With a sigh, he gave the final result to an owl, sending it off.

Y/N,

I think it would be best to discuss our situation. I propose the music room for a meeting place—not many students go there, and it would provide us the needed privacy. If you are willing, I will be there at 5 p.m. tonight.

Ominis Gaunt

Simple and straight to the point. He figured that approach would work best. Now all he could do was wait and see if she came.

“She’s looking over at us,” Sebastian said from Ominis’s side, the both of them having just walked down to the Great Hall for the morning.

“Good,” Ominis said. “Seems she got my note.”

“Are you sure meeting with her is the best idea? What if she tries to blow you up again?” Sebastian asked.

Ominis sighed. “Really, I don’t think she will. We got through detention just fine, remember? I believe working together—even if we keep each other at an arm’s length—might be the only way to find a solution to all this.”

He could hear the frown in Sebastian’s voice. “If you really think so.”

The rest of the day moved slowly. Ominis figured the anticipation of wondering if she would try blowing him up again made the minutes drag on for ages. Finally, he bid Sebastian a short farewell and made his way to the music room, arriving just after four.

While what he had said in the note was true about students not frequenting the place, he also had his own reasons for choosing the location. As he sat on the bench of the piano, tracing over the keys laid out in front of him, he felt some of the tension leave his body. He began to play.

Ominis wasn’t one to boast, unlike a certain brunet he kept the company of, but he couldn’t resist the pride he felt when he played. There were years and years of practice put into this skill, and as he moved from piece to piece with precision, he allowed himself to get lost in it. It was always soothing—the way the cool of the keys felt under his fingertips, the swells of crescendos and the softness in the rests. He longed for these times, the moments he would let himself drown in the music.

But even in his drowning, he could feel the presence of someone standing in the doorway.

His playing slowed as he finished the phrase the song, finally coming to a stop. “You came,” he said, tilting his head toward the door.

Footsteps approached him at the bench. “I did.” She paused, stopping beside him. “I didn’t know you play.”

“Most people don’t. I don’t exactly advertise it.” He turned toward her as she sat in a nearby chair.

“Maybe you should. You’re rather talented.”

He chuckled. “And to think Sebastian got the idea into my head that you’d come just to duel me again.”

She sighed. “Don’t tempt me. I’m still not so sure about you.”

“Yet here you are.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

Ominis pressed his lips together. “I suppose neither of us do.”

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t think… well, my parents are really set on this… match.” She sounded deflated. “I’m their only child. As a daughter, I can’t carry on the family name, so the next best thing I can do is marry into a notable one. And the Gaunts… I told you what they think of you all last time we spoke.”

His heart sank. “I see,” he said softly. “I hate to disappoint the both of us any further, but from what I’ve heard back from my own parents, I’m not sure they’ll be persuaded, either.”

Y/N sighed. “I didn’t come here expecting good news. Even if you had managed to convince your parents to break it off, I know it would be a matter of time before I was promised to some other pureblood man.” Her voice turned better as she continued. “My father has always resented me for being a daughter instead of a son. I have nothing to offer him. As much as they tried, my mother could never have another child. Part of me is surprised he didn’t leave her, but I suppose he must love her, in a way. In any case, it just leaves me. The only heir.” She faltered. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all of this.”

“It’s alright.” He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “I’m just surprised you trust me with it.”

“If I’m honest, I am, too. But I’ve been thinking since we last talked, and…”

Ominis couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve realized you were wrong about me?”

He could hear the smile in his voice. “Wrong is a strong word. But maybe I was a little wrong about you.”

“Only a little?” he asked through chuckles.

“Ok, mostly wrong. I’ve been thinking back about our time in school, and really, there’s never been any proof to back up what I’ve thought of you. You’ve never been rude to me or anyone of lesser status than you. I mean, you’re friends with the Sallows, and while they’re purebloods, they don’t exactly have the best reputation—” Ominis couldn’t help but laugh at that— “and I’ve even heard rumors you have it out for Duncan Hobhouse, though I always thought it was because you thought him a coward, not because of what he goes around saying about Muggleborns.”

“It’s both. Being a coward just makes him more pathetic.”

She gave a small laugh. “Really, I’ve been a bit of a hypocrite this whole time. I’ve always hated it when people judge me just because of my parents. And I went and did that exact thing to you.” He heard her take a deep breath, shifting a bit in her chair. “I’m sorry.”

He sat for a moment, taking in her apology. “All is forgiven,” he finally said—and he meant it. There was no trace of unease as he said the words. “I can’t blame you for putting up your defenses. We’re both trying to fight what we come from. I just choose to do so more subtly.”

She hummed in agreement. To his surprise, he found himself continuing to speak. “I have to admit it’s nice to know there’s someone like me in the wretched world we find ourselves in. Seeing my brothers and sister live with it, as if nothing is wrong…” he trailed off. “It used to make me feel like the insane one.”

He could feel her lean closer to him. He wondered what expression she wore on her face. Probably one of pity. Disgust. He was shocked when her voice reflected none of those things—only sympathy. “I know. It feels impossible to escape from sometimes, doesn’t it?”

A shuddering breath left his lips. “I’d hoped as the youngest—the least favorite—I had a chance. Seems ridiculous I ever thought that now.”

He could feel her attention on him, making him a little uneasy. He’d told her so little. Yet it felt like he’d revealed himself completely. Their conversation had grown grim, the words he knew they both must be thinking heavy in the air: They had lost any future they had.

She broke the silence. “I always wished I could play piano,” she said softly.

Ominis furrowed his brows. “You never learned?” It surprised him. All of his siblings had—though they had done so begrudgingly. Most other children of higher status had at least a few lessons.

“No,” she answered. He felt her shift, hearing her run her fingers along the keys softly—longingly. “My father deemed it frivolous, though my mother played a bit when I was younger, before he got rid of the piano all together.”

Ominis gave a small smile. “Then how about we show him a little rebellion?” He slide to the far side of the piano bench, patting the now open space next to him.

“I—what?” she said, confused. “You… are you going to teach me?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you’d rather we go on about our horrible upbringings.”

She laughed at that—a real laugh. It was nice to hear after so much animosity between them just a week ago. She took her spot on the bench next to him. “I’d much rather disappoint my father.”

He grinned. “Wonderful. With all that spite, you’ll make an excellent student.”

“Then I hope you’re a qualified teacher,” she said.

“I should hope so. I started learning when I was four. My mother insisted I learn just as my siblings did—prove that my blindness wouldn’t hold me back.” Ominis smiled a bit. “To her delight, I took it up better than any of them. I spent much of my childhood practicing.” It was an excellent excuse for the rest of his family to leave him alone. “We’ll start you with a song in the key of C, it’s the easiest. But first you’ll need to know the names of the notes.”

“They have names?”

“Just letters. You’re a Ravenclaw, I’m sure you’ll catch on quick.” He placed his hand on the piano, splayed out as he began to play the notes, naming each one as he did. It was simple enough, he thought. Just an octave in C.

He felt her settle in beside him, determination growing as she watched. “Right,” she said. “Which note do I start on?”

“C. It’ll be the note to the left of the two taller keys.”

“The black ones?”

“I wouldn’t have a clue.”

She stiffened a bit beside him. “Ah… right. Sorry.”

He felt her tension loosen as he gave a laugh. “It’s quite alright.”

He helped locate the notes, walking her step by step through the octave, then through the first few notes of a simple song he’d played as a child. He couldn’t help but think she’d made quick progress. It wasn’t long until she was able to play a few measures on her own, quickly correcting herself at each sour note.

A satisfied smile rested easy on his face as she finished the last of what he’d taught her. “You’ve done even better than I thought you would, dearest.”

He froze. He hadn’t meant to say it—the word had just slipped out. Where had it even come from? Things had finally started to go well between him, and here he had surely ruined it by one slip of the tongue. He prepared for the onslaught of her anger—

But it never came.

“My father will be most displeased with me. I’m looking forward to showing him.”

She hadn’t even noticed.

He let out the small breath he’d instinctively sucked in.

“Maybe someday I’ll be good enough to play something like you were when I walked in. That was—Merlin’s beard, is it already that late?”

Ominis frowned. They had spent quite some time at the piano. “What time is it?”

“No clue, but it’s completely dark outside… Constance will be back from Quidditch practice any time now, if she’s not already.” She stood. “She’ll wonder where I went off to.”

He sat still on the bench as she rushed to the door, only briefly stopping herself before she walked out. “Thank you. For… for everything. Goodnight.”

She was gone before he could tell her the same.

Y/N was breathless by the time she got back to the Ravenclaw common room. Was the view really worth that many damn stairs? She entered, answering the riddle without half a thought, and scanned the room.

Constance looked up from the sofa she was sitting on, waving at her as she approached.

“How was practice?” Y/N asked. Quidditch was one of the things Constance did that Y/N did. She’d been a Chaser on the team since their fifth year. For a while, her blonde friend had done her best to convince her to take up the sport, but gave up when she realized she couldn’t catch a Quaffle to save her life. Y/N didn’t mind. She often sat in the stands while Constance practiced, reading borrowed books or doing her homework. She’d made an excuse for this evening, telling her that she had needed to look from some specific books in the library.

She realized only now that she had returned empty handed.

“Alright, I suppose.” Constance frowned. “Though Andrew made us run laps. Tell me, what’s the point of that? We’re on brooms. This isn’t rugby.”

“That’s that Muggle sport your dad likes, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and its the best one, right after Quidditch, I tell you.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, maybe Andrew wants to make you a rugby team.”

Constance scoffed. “I wish. At least there’d be a reason for his nonsense.” She looked at her friend, frowning. “You got back late. I’ve been sitting here for at least half an hour. What kept you?”

She looked away from Constance. She’d been arguing with herself on whether or not she wanted to tell her about her engagement to Gaunt—she didn't like lying to her friend. But at the same time, telling her would make it all the more real. She could pretend that her life wasn’t falling apart when she talked to her. There could be something normal in all of the mess. She was afraid of losing that.

So, selfish as it was, she lied.

“I searched for that damn book all over the place. When I asked Scribner, she said someone had checked it out already, but it was all a wild goose chase.”

Constance narrowed her eyes a bit, but didn’t question her further. “Awful. Well, I hope they check it in soon.”

They chatted idly the rest of the night. When they finally went off to bed, Y/N found herself humming as she got into her night clothes—it was the simple song Ominis had taught her.

She’d stood in the doorway of the music room longer than she’d like to admit before he seemed to notice her. There was something entrancing in the way he played—the way his hands danced across the keys with ease, the concentrated expression that overtook him. And the music itself—well, it had done nothing short of stun her.

From all she had known before, Ominis Gaunt was not an emotional person. Even as she reflected on him this last week, struggling to decide whether or not she truly believed all he’d said to her, she had noted how closed off he’d always been. Hiding behind witty remarks and dry humor, speaking to others only when they approached him first. For six long years, she had chalked it up to him being cold hearted and harsh like the rest of his family. But now…

She felt she had really seen a glimpse of the true Ominis through his music. There was a longing in the flowing notes; a pain in the pounding of chords. She understood why he didn’t advertise his skills as an excellent pianist—it exposed him much too completely.

She had gone to that meeting as a test, still wary of changing her mind about the young man she thought she’d pegged just right. She’d left thoroughly convinced that Ominis Gaunt was perhaps even better than he gave himself credit for.

But as she settled into bed, it wasn’t the aching melodies of the evening that repeated inside her mind. No—it was a sound she had never heard before. If you had asked Y/N a week ago what OMinis Gaunt sounded like when he laughed, truly laughed, she would have told you such a sound didn’t exist.

Now she couldn’t get it out of her head.

Chapter Four

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sugarquillz · 9 months

Text

Hatred - Safety Ch 2

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Dueling, very minor injury

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Chapter One

Also Available on AO3

Ominis had always prided himself in being able to read others’ emotions, despite his lack of sight. He could not see the expressions on people’s faces, but he could hear the subtle tones of their voices, the way their breathing changed when they tenses. He could feel the power and the passion coming off them like waves, and he had spent years tuning himself to understand it.

That being said, it took almost no effort to know that Y/N’s feelings from that morning had not changed in the slightest.

She was awfully short with her friend (Constance, was it?) whenever they spoke. Her breathing was deep in an effort to quell the anger flowing through her veins. He could feel her attention shifting to him, over and over again, as the class went on.

He could feel himself getting more and more annoyed by it.

There was nothing they could do at the moment—didn’t she see that? He wanted this over as soon as possible, but if he ditched classes and moped around, it would do nothing but put him in his parent’s bad graces. Being angry did nothing but raise your blood pressure and cause rash decisions to be made. Was it so impossible for her to put her emotions aside for a few hours?

He was being hypocritical—he recognized that. Every movement she made in her seat made his eye twitch. All he could think about her assumptions she had made of him, that he had wanted to rope her in some engagement. The thoughts floated around inside his head, making concentrating on anything but her a few seats away almost impossible.

“You look like someone snapped your wand,” Sebastian said quietly as people broke into groups to practice spells.

Ominis’s frown deepened, if it was even possible. “You’ll have to forgive me for being in a foul mood. I don’t think I’ll be shaking it any time soon.”

Sebastian hummed. “She’s glaring at you. Again.”

“You mean it hasn’t been one long, continuous glare?”

“No, she stopped for a moment to glare at something Constance said. But she got right back to it, don’t worry.”

Ominis almost chuckled at that. “What is it that we’re even supposed to be doing? My mind was elsewhere.”

“Changing the color of the cloth on our desk.”

“Wonderful, I couldn’t imagine a more useful spell for the likes of me.”

Sebastian laughed at that. The sound lessened Ominis’s dark mood a bit—it had been rarer to hear his dear friend’s laugh since Anne had fallen ill, and any chance there was so help him feel better was one worth taking. He was sorry that such misfortune had fallen to all the members of their trio this final school year.

Anne’s absence was felt constantly. Over the years, Ominis had grown to think of her as his sister—she acted the role much better than his own older sister, Vidia, had ever done. Both she and Sebsatian had befriended him when he was afraid no one else would. He would forever be grateful for the Sallows who had so readily taken him in as one of their own.

He sighed. He’d have to write to her. See what advice she could offer. Sebastian was always the most rash of their trio, acting on the first thought that came to his head. Ominis was often the opposite—reserved nearly to a fault. Anne was their middle ground, the level head who always considered all aspects. When he and Sebastian fought, she was able to calm them down enough to see sense and make up. Since she had gotten ill, Ominis and Sebastian had been doing their best to carry on. He knew that no matter what, they would remain like brothers, but it didn’t mean things weren’t difficult sometimes.

He wondered if Anne would have been able to talk to Y/N. Sebastian had charm, yes, but Anne had the ability to wrap anyone she met around her finger—it was what had enabled her to get away with so much during her time in Hogwarts. If anyone had the capability to calm the beast that was Y/N Y/N, it would have been her.

The rest of the class passed by without incident. Ominis practiced the charm very lazily, seeing as he would never have much use for it, and Sebastian neglected to practice at all, claiming he’d mastered it in his third year. It wasn’t long until the seventh year students were making their way over to Professor Hecate’s classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Ominis sighed as they walked over, knowing he’d have to endure her glares in that class as well. He pulled out his wand to guide him, trying not to pay attention to her brooding a few steps ahead of him. Sebastian chattered on about some more advanced color-changing spells he’d studied a while back, and Ominis let his voice drown out the rest of the students around them.

When they walked into class, Ominis realized immediately that this would be a practical lesson. The tables were all pushed aside, leaving a wide empty space to practice spells in the middle. Professor Hecate stood in front of them as they gathered around.

“Welcome, students,” she began. “Today we’ll be learning a defensive spell. While some of you may think it less effective than other spells, I guarantee you in a duel, you’ll want every weapon in your arsenal. It has come in handy for me on more than one occasion.”

She went on, explaining the Confundus Charm in detail—from her descriptions and the aid of his wand, Ominis was able to understand the motions, and listened carefully to her pronunciation. With his blindness, Ominis had come into the school with people expecting him to always be a few steps behind—he did all he could from his first day on to put that to rest. Say what they will about him or his family, but he wanted all to see he was a more than capable wizard. He had proven that throughout his years, catching on to spells quickly; often quicker than most in his year.

Professor Hecate demonstrated the charm to them all (she did so by casting it on Duncan Hobhouse—this amused Ominis greatly) and then turned back to all of them. “I’ll now pair you off to practice the spell. Only Confundus, Protego, and Basic Cast, please.”

Ominis’s stomach dropped. His luck couldn’t be so horrible, could it? But as more and more names were called, names that were not his or hers, he felt the stress building within him.

“Ominis Gaunt and Y/N L/N, if you would work together, please.”

If there was such thing as a God, he must surely be laughing at his misery. He felt her angry presence approach him, and he stood straighter, trying to prepare himself for whatever might come.

She didn’t say anything to him, just stood there as other students around them got to work, practicing the spell in makeshift duels. The silence annoyed him.

“Let’s get this out of the way, then,” he said, spreading his feet a bit to give him the proper stance to duel. He heard her footsteps on the ground as she did the same.

“Confundo,” she said lazily. The spell shot at him and he deflected easily, coming back with a basic cast. Once again, the spell bounced off the shield charm. Y/N made a low noise, almost like a growl.

“What’s wrong with you?” she said, voice low but full of venom. “I thought you were upset. Why are you so calm?”

“Oh, I am upset,” Ominis replied. “I just don’t go about showing it off like a prefect’s badge. On the other hand, I’m surprised you’re not accusing me of telling Professor Hecate to set the two of us up.”

“Confundo!”

He countered. He could practically hear her teeth grinding together, feeling the tension grow between them. That last spell had a bit more fire to it. She was starting to mean it. He was playing with fire, now—he should back down a bit.

He cast Confundo back at her, and she whipped up her shield without a moment’s hesitation. She was a step closer now than she had been. “You’re a cold hearted prick,” she said, seething.

His basic cast came at her a little more quickly than his last spells had. She just blocked it. “You know nothing about me,” he growled.

“I know you’re a monster, set on causing pain for your pleasure, just like your family.”

For the second time that day, Ominis found himself hearing nothing but his own blood pumping. She didn’t know what he’d been through. The regrets he had. He took out some of his hatred by throwing a spell to her—he wasn’t even sure what it was, but it didn’t matter. Her quick Protego kept it from reaching her. “Don’t speak of things you know nothing of,” he spat. “At least I’m not like you, so eager to please the rest of the world by making a sorry show of myself. You try so hard to run, but everyone still sees you as you are. Heir to a pureblood throne, just like me—”

Most of the time, Ominis Gaunt was a man of restraint. He listened to that little voice in his head (the voice he was so keen on telling Sebastian he didn’t have) and stopped when it told him to. He knew where limits were, and how to stay away from them. He’d spent his life skirting around the edges. He knew he should stop now, before things got out of hand, before he did something he’d regret. But sometimes, sometimes, fury had a way of making that voice seem too quiet.

“—dearest.”

Any anger he had felt from her before had been a mere sample. He felt the magic in the air as she drew her arm back, preparing to direct it to him. It was electric—power and rage turned into one, matching the growl of her voice as she yelled, “Confringo!”

But he’d had time to prepare. The moment that word had left his mouth, there was the instinct telling him to ready himself. His shield parted the flames that flew at him, the heat felt through it still. It was a truly masterful cast of the spell, one that Sebastian had to be jealous of. Just after the fire’s heat vanished, Ominis let his own spell fly, a powerful Depulso that sent her flying back.

His wand lowered as he heard her fall to the ground, the realization hitting him. How had he let his rage drive him so far? She could be hurt, badly, he hadn’t meant to—

Some of his anxiety was quelled as he heard her getting back up, brushing away the hands and concerned voices that surrounded her. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need help, I’m not hurt, I—”

“What’s going on here?” Professor Hecate said, voice booming as she stood between the two of them. Y/N was back on her feet. “Did I not instruct you on not using other spells in your duels?”

Neither of them spoke. Ominis was still too stunned from his own actions. She seemed to feel the same. There was no defense for either of them—they had put on quite the show. They had plenty of witnesses to describe what had happened.

“Detention,” Professor Hecate said. “Tonight, for the both of you. You’re lucky no one was hurt.”

Ominis could only stand there in silence, hearing the hushed whispers of the other students begin to swirl around him. He hardly heard Professor Hecate when she announced class was dismissed, the other seventh years leaving the classroom quickly.

He should apologize. Make sure she was really alright. Let her know he hadn’t meant—he never intended to—

But she was already gone, having stormed out of the classroom the moment she’d been able to.

Her side ached where she had hit the ground, but she didn’t care. Constance kept pestering her even as she repeated that.

“You should just let Nurse Blainey check it out,” her blonde friend insisted. “What if it’s worse than you think?”

“I know what a bruise feels like, Constance,” she replied shortly. Constance narrowed her eyes at her, frowning deeply.

That was Constance. Quick to protect, but quick to get offended, too. Y/N knew how to stay on her good side after years of friendship, a skill most hadn’t been able to grasp. The two of them made quite the pair—Y/N was a bit of an outcast. Not accepted by the Slytherins or other pureblood families because of her outspokenness against that culture, and not fully embraced by the others in the school, still a bit wary of her origins. People were nice enough to her, never accusing her of following in her family’s footsteps or viewing her as a danger, but… they still kept her at an arm’s length. It was difficult to make true friends, not just ones who’d chat kindly in class then never speak to her again outside of it.

But that’s where Constance came in. The girl was so loyal, Y/N often found herself wondering how she wasn’t a Hufflepuff. Constance had her own trouble keeping friends; she had a bit of a reputation for being short with people, feeling as if she knew best. Y/N didn’t mind. What mattered to her was that she was there when no one else was, and she knew she’d be there to the end.

At present, Y/N sighed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude to you. It’s just been… a long day.”

And it still wasn’t over. She wasn’t looking forward to her detention that night in the slightest—she’d already gotten the note from Professor Hecate, instructing both her and Gaunt to be in her classroom at eight o’clock sharp. She didn’t have much choice but to go, no matter how much she didn’t want to face the Slytherin again.

“I know, it’s alright,” Constance replied, annoyance gone after her apology. “I still can’t believe he actually did that… if I’d had any say in all of this, I’d let you Depulso him right back.” Constance distinctly ignored the fact that Y/N had been the first to use an illegal spell in their duel, sticking firmly on her friend’s side. “He’s getting off of this much too easily. I bet he won’t even show up to detention—pull his little web of strings to get out of it.”

She sighed. “Honestly, I’d be just fine with that. Save me the trouble of seeing him again.”

Constance grumbled a bit, something about unfair and stupid rich family. Y/N didn’t pay it much mind, simply grateful to have her by her side.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a blur. She was still angry, still frustrated about her situation, (and of course, with Ominis Gaunt) but the duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts reminded her she needed to keep a level head about all of it. What was it the infuriating boy had said? Showing it off like a prefect’s badge? She was determined to prove him wrong, and didn’t even look at him the remainder of the day.

When eight o’clock finally rolled around, she trudged up to Professor Hecate’s classroom. She opened the door and frowned, seeing Gaunt stood just inside. Well, at least he was taking his punishment, and not backing out like a coward. She’d give him that much.

Professor Hecate turned to both of them. “I’ll have you know that most professors would have given you detentions for at least a week—if you behave tonight, you’ll be left with just the one. Though you weren’t supposed to use those spells, I’ll grant that they were well cast. That deserves at least some merit.”

Y/N shifted on her feet, waiting for her instruction so they could get things over with. Professor Hecate led them over to her office, waving her wand to bring out high stacks of parchment. “Your task tonight is simple enough. I just need these alphabetized. It should be mundane enough to keep you out of trouble, I hope. I’ll leave you two to it and check back in an hour or so.”

After Professor Hecate left, Y/N plopped into a chair by the desk, starting immediately on the first stack. She told herself the hour would go quicker if she was absorbed in her task. Gaunt came to sit across from her, pulling out his wand to trace over the pages. She could help but glance up from time to time, wondering how exactly the magic worked. He’d first place his wand, and then his fingers would follow, brushing against the parchment. She’d seen him do it before in classes, of course, but it was a little different seeing him repeat the action again and again in front of her.

“I can feel you staring,” he said, shaking her out of her thoughts. She scowled, looking back down at the parchment she had in hand.

Now that the silence had been broken once, it felt heavy as it laid over them. Still, she was determined that she had no need to end it. Gaunt seemed to feel differently.

“I’m going to ask you something, and all I ask is you don’t try to set me on fire so we can avoid another detention.” No response. “Why do you despise me?”

She scoffed. “Really? You need to ask that? Was the letter I received this morning not reason enough?”

“It’s quite clear you hated me long before that letter. You just used to be more subtle about it.”

She set down the page she was holding. “You, Ominis Gaunt, are everything I’ve ever tried to run from.” Her eyes shot up to look at him, seeing his frown deepen. “I suppose that’s one thing you got right about me. I’m no sorry coward like you, willing to give in and be driven by hate and prejudice. My parents admire your family—it’s disgusting to watch. My whole life, they’ve pushed me to be just like all of you.” Her face contorted to one of utter disgust. “I know all about you and your horrid family. Cursing Muggles and Muggleborns as if they’re not even human. Of all the pureblood lines, yours is the most rotten of all. If I could erase one blasted family from the face of the planet, it would be yours.”

She wasn’t sure how she expected him to respond to that, but it wasn’t a quiet chuckle. Her face dropped her expression of disgust and turned to one of confusion, brows furrowed. “I see,” he said. “I figured as much. But I’d hoped after attending seven years of school together you’d have seen that the only person who hates my family more than you is myself.”

Her jaw dropped. “You—what—”

“You’re right,” he said. “About all of it. The hate, the prejudice, the torture, even. What you’re wrong about is me agreeing with it. It disgusts me, just as it does you. Truly, the Gaunt family line is an abomination.”

“But… but you’re a Slytherin,” she said, head spinning at the revelation.

“You really think I ever had a chance to be anything but, with his blood flowing in my veins?” He laughed bitterly. “And a Parslemouth, no less. I was doomed from the start.”

She sat in silence, lost in thought. Was he telling the truth? Was he just trying to manipulate her, get into her good graces for… for whatever reason? She couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. It was a several minutes later when he interrupted to quiet once again.

“I am sorry, by the way,” he said softly. “I hope I didn’t cause you any pain or injury. I let my frustration get the best of me.”

He… he was apologizing? In a single conversation, all of the assumptions and judgements she’d made about the boy in front of her were slowly crashing down. For so many years, she’d thought she’d had him pegged. He was the perfect heir, the Gaunt’s dear youngest son. She had never bothered to look further, to question it. It had always been her against him.

But what if she’d gotten it wrong? What if they weren’t so different after all?

It was too big of a shift to take in all at once. Her head was spinning. What had he just been saying? Sorry—that was right. He was a Gaunt. He was supposed to be revealing in the pain he’d caused a blood-traitor. But he said sorry.

“You…” She cleared her throat, willing her thoughts to come together to form a response. “It’s alright. I’m not hurt. I was the first one to cast Confringo at you, so…”

Dear Merlin, was she apologizing back?

“I egged you on,” Gaunt said. “I usually know when to stop, but this whole engagement business has driven me out of my head. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. They continued working, the only sound being the ruffle of pages, but most of the tension was gone. A while later, Professor Hecate came in to tell them they were free to go. They walked out of the classroom, toward the tower that held both of their common rooms in silence. He began to head down the stairs. Before she could stop herself, she called after him.

“Gaunt.”

He stopped, head tilting back a bit, an indication he was listening.

“If you’re telling the truth about everything,” she started. “Which… which I hope you are, then I’m sorry, too.”

A small smile crossed his lips. He didn’t say anything in response, just gave a bit of a nod and continued down the stairs.

Chapter 3

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@phoenix666stuff

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sugarquillz · 9 months

Text

Dread

Chapter One of Safety

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (reader is not MC)

Word Count: 2.8k

Content Warnings: Pureblood Society/Culture

But why did it have to be him?

Also available on AO3

Ominis’s stomach filled with dread the moment the letter dropped into his lap. The owl that had delivered it landed beside him, pecking at his hand until Ominis begrudgingly gave him a small treat. Grasping the letter, he turned it over in his hand. There were very few options as to who would write him a letter—one was Sebastian, but his oldest friend sat right beside him on the bench they shared in the Great Hall, loading his plate with food for breakfast. He supposed it could be Sebastian’s sister, Anne, who was ill in Feldcroft—he would have welcomed a note from her, even if it had been but a few short weeks since he had seen her. But no. One brush over the fine parchment and extravagant wax seal confirmed his awful suspicion—it was from his parents.

For most students, receiving a letter from their parents this early on in the school year would likely mean they forgot something at home, and to expect a parcel. Or perhaps it would be the kind worried words of a mother, checking in to see how their dear child was adapting. Ominis knew better than to expect anything like that. His parents rarely wrote him, and when they did, it was never good news. It was usually chastising words on his school work or expressions of disappointment at his choice of company. Occasionally, he got the pleasure of being compared to one of his siblings, or even taunts reminding him of his place in the family pecking order. Or it could be…

He swallowed thickly. Ominis had come of age last February. For some most wizards, this would have been an age of new independence—perhaps an opportunity of escape for those in difficult situations. For Ominis, so securely held in the clutches of his parents as he tried to finish his education, it meant nothing but new ways to have his life controlled. He had hoped there was a chance he would escape his brothers’ fate, given his ailment. But as he opened the letter and traced his fingers over the transfigured words, his heart dropped.

There was no escape for him after all.

Sebastian, finally done selecting his morning meal, finally noticed his silence. He interrupted his breakfast to turn toward his friend in concern. “You’ve gone quiet,” he said. “Is it from your parents?”

Ominis couldn’t find the words to explain to him the situation. Instead, he waved his wand over the parchment, transforming the marks into words his friend could read and handed it to him. There was quiet for a moment as Sebastian took in the contents of the letter.

“Betrothed?” Sebastian said finally. Ominis only nodded. He felt numb. The food on his plate was cold now. It didn’t matter. He had no appetite anyway.

Sebastian let out a disbelieving scoff. “How could they… as if they have any right to… Look, it says they’re keeping it private for the time being. We’ll figure something out.”

Ominis sighed, voice shaking. “We can… try. But I don’t think I have a chance. Even the siblings of mine that they’ve liked ended up in arranged marriages. I should be grateful it’s not to one of my cousins.” He leaned forward on the table, resting his face in his hands. His head was spinning. He felt like he might be sick.

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “It’s going to be fine, Ominis.” The words fell flat, a clear lie—and Sebastian was normally pretty good at lying. His friend looked back down at the parchment in his hand. “Y/N L/N… that’s that girl our year in Ravenclaw, isn’t it?”

It was. He had never come into contact with her much—the few times they’d been grouped together in class she’d limited their conversation, but was never rude or aggressive. However, he knew that she came from a family quite like his—blood purists, with wealth and a name that intimidated many in the wizarding world. From what he knew of her, it seemed to Ominis that Y/N deliberately tried to separate herself from her family. She was often the gossip at events he’d been forced to attend—her name often accompanied phrases like “what a shame” and “quite the disappointment”. She didn’t attempt to mask her distaste for the wizarding world’s “high society.” He couldn’t blame her if that was why she had always seemed to avoid him. He felt a pang of sympathy for the girl—she’d been roped into the mess that was his family. No one deserved that.

Sebastian tore him out of his thoughts as he continued. “Do you think she’s heard the news yet? I can’t imagine she’ll be pleased, either.”

Ominis opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the bang of the Great Hall doors being thrust open. Footsteps strode towards him, and he knew exactly who it must have been even before she screamed his name.

“GAUNT!” she yelled, fury tainting her tone. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”

The chattering voices in the Great Hall hushed, and Ominis knew every head was turned toward them. He took a moment, trying to gather his composure for a conversation he wanted desperately to run from. Finally, he sighed, standing to face her. When he spoke, he had to focus on making sure his voice came out controlled and even. “Fair enough. But perhaps we could not make a spectacle of it.”

He heard her grumble to herself before a hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging him toward the doors.

“I can walk myself,” he muttered, trying to pull away from her grasp.

She ignored him, throwing open a door to what he assumed was an empty classroom before slamming it shut behind them. She finally let go and Ominis rubbed his wrist as he shot a glare in her direction. God, the nerve of her.

“What is the meaning of this?” she said through clenched teeth. He heard the slight flutter of parchment and assumed she was brandishing a letter in front of him. The dread he felt mingled uncomfortably with irritation in his stomach.

“If you knew a thing about me, you’d know I’d be unable to see what this is,” he said coldly.

“If you think I’m going to go along with any of this, you’re sorely mistaken,” she continued, ignoring him. “How dare you—“

The irritation took a swift turn, turning into anger searing red hot inside him. She had every right to be upset about the situation—as did he—but she had no right to blame it all on him. “Hold on a moment, dearest,” he said, the last word dripping in mockery. She gasped.

“ Don’t you DARE call me that!” she seethed, voice rising.

There was a slight satisfaction in hearing her furious tone. He should really have been trying to deescalate the situation, but if she felt like letting out her frustrations on him, he felt no qualms about returning the favor. “I’ll call you whatever I’d bloody like, because in case you’ve forgotten, it seems you're to be my wife, ” he spat. “You can make whatever assumptions about me you want, but know that I had no say in this blasted arrangement . I’m just as much a victim as you are.”

He swore he could hear both of their hearts pounding as the waves of fury rolled off of them. He knew none of this was her fault, but he couldn’t help but hate her in that moment—from her deep, shaking breaths to the slight scent of vanilla she carried with her.

“I refuse to ever be wed to you,” she growled. If he wasn’t in such a horrid state himself, he’d likely find himself afraid of her.

“Then that, at least, we can agree upon,” he said.

She stormed out of the room, leaving Ominis to stew in the tension she’d left in her wake.

It took him a good while to calm down. He drew in long, deep breaths, leaning his head against the wall behind him. How dare she place the blame on him? Why would he have ever chosen this, did she think he was eager to have some girl promised to him with nothing to care about but her blood status? It was infuriating. He had hardly ever had control of his life. For years he had dared to dream that someday, he would escape the life his parents pushed so fervently onto him, become something worthwhile; but it seemed he never would. He was doomed to follow in the footsteps of his older siblings—married off without a second thought. None of them ever seemed to question that path. He despised them for it. How could they have ever been happy? Did they not long for something more?

He was stirred from his bitter thoughts by the door opening. He was about to tell her she had better be there to apologize, but a different voice interrupted him.

“I take it it went well,” Sebastian said.

Ominis scoffed. “She was furious. I wish I could be sympathetic and say I don’t blame her, but—”

“But you’re in just as bad a position as she is,” Sebastian finished. He sighed, coming over and leaning against the wall alongside his friend. “You should’ve seen her storm back in there. Could’ve mistaken her for a dragon.”

“I suppose she’s out there shouting about her poor fate with the terrible Gaunts,” Ominis said, frowning. That would be exactly what he needed—students going around saying how eager he was to take a wife to continue his horrible family traditions. He already had enough rumors about him. What was one more?

“No, actually. I overheard her telling one of her friends that she was upset with you because her parents compared the two of you in a letter. Doesn’t seem like she’s eager to spread the news of her engagement.” That was a relief, at least.

He sighed. “Well, let’s hope she keeps it that way. It’ll be a lot easier to try to find a solution if the whole school isn’t gossiping about it. It… would have been easier to work with her to figure it out, but…” He trailed off. He shouldn’t have let things get out of hand, but she…

Sebastian clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Who needs her? Trust me, you’ll have the title of Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor back in no time.”

—------

Ominis Gaunt. Of all the prejudiced, evil, horrid, and twisted people, it had to be the worst of them. It had to be a bloody Gaunt.

Just thinking the name made her taste iron as she walked through the corridors to her first class. She’d known this day was coming—it was bound to. As her parent’s only child, she was the only heir of their fortune, the one that had been passed down through generations upon generations of pure-blood families. As a daughter, she couldn’t carry on the family name—the ‘legacy’, as they liked to call it (and some lousy legacy it was, she could tell you that much). Of course they’d want to marry her off to someone of importance.

But the Gaunts.

She’d always foolishly thought that they’d wait until she had finished school—maybe even settled into some sort of career. She saw now that that could never have been a possibility; it would have given her a taste of freedom. She would have taken it and ran—they knew her well enough to see that. There had been another silly idea she’d somehow convinced herself of—that she would have some sort of say in the man they promised her to. The choice would have been more of an illusion than anything worth while, but it would have been something to give her an ounce of control in her pathetic existence. She could have sorted her suitors from worst to awful to tolerable , and had her pick of them. But no. Even that was stolen away from her. She was to marry Ominis bloody Gaunt.

Because of her family's status, she had grown up hearing plenty about the Gaunts, mostly by way of praise , as disgusting as it was. They held a special place of high importance as descendants of Salazar Slytherin, or as Y/N liked to call him, the royal prick himself. She knew all too well of their hobbies torturing Muggles. She’d heard about them marrying cousins and the like to keep their blood pure—a practice done only by the most desperate and prejudiced families. She knew all about how violent and vile each and every one of them was. When she had first come to Hogwarts and discovered the Gaunt boy in her year, she resolved to have nothing to do with him. Her parents always pestered her to befriend him, solely for the good it would do to increase their standing with his family. Despite the constant comparisons her parents made of them, she had managed to be civil with the boy throughout the years. If she was too rude or nasty toward him, he would surely rat her out to his parents—who would in turn spread the information to hers. Nothing good would have ever come from that.

In hindsight, she really should have seen it all coming. She supposed that the only thing that prevented her from considering Gaunt as a potential match was his blindness—not that she looked down on him for that fact, of course. She simply grew up in the same world he did, full of harsh judgements and expected perfection. Every child was raised in a way that was supposed to model their parents. Anything different or against the established norm was frowned upon. As unfair as it was, his blindness likely led other pureblood families to look down on him, even with his status as a Gaunt. With her own status being a bit precarious as a Ravenclaw who spoke out against her family, she figured her own reputation had been tainted—maybe that was why they had ended up paired together.

As Y/N plopped down in her seat for Charms, she felt her friend’s eyes on her. Constance Dagworth was one of her dorm mates, a natural friend for her to have made. They’d hit it off during their first year, gushing about their favorite books and stories. As a Muggleborn, Constance had a lot to share with her friend about the Muggle world—it all fascinated Y/N. She found a particular love for Muggle novels and poetry, which Constance was always willing to provide her. Her parents disapproved not only of her interests, but of her friendship. All the more reason to stay loyal to the first friend she had made.

“Blimey, you still haven’t calmed down?” Constance asked, frowning at her friend.

Y/N sighed. She hadn’t told Constance about the horrid arrangement she’d been roped into. Talking to her about it would make it all so much more real… she didn’t think she was ready for that yet. Instead, she had blamed her anger at Gaunt by telling her that her parents had compared the pair of them in their latest letter. It was a convincing lie, as it had happened on many occasions before. Her parents had pestered her throughout the years that she ought to be more like Ominis, who, in their eyes, was an excellent little heir worthy of his pureblood status, much like the rest of his siblings. It was just another reason she hated the blond.

“I’m just sick of it,” Y/N said to her friend. “One can only take so much.”

Constance hummed. “Fair enough. I’d’ve liked to see what exactly they said, though—really must of gotten on your nerves with how quick you were to let it go up in flames.”

Y/N smiled a bit at that. As soon as she had returned to the Great Hall, she had lit the note on fire—she was determined not to let anyone else know about her situation, and it had been oh so satisfying to turn the blasted letter into a pile of ash. It allowed her to pretend, just a little bit, that it wasn’t real. With no physical proof, there was nothing to remind her of her problems.

But then Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow walked into class—her anger flared once again.

His pretentious tone echoed in her head—he dared to call himself a victim in this situation. Likely just wanted to complain that he’d gotten stuck with her and not some loyal little Slytherin brat who’d fall over herself to take her place.

She glared at him as he sat, though he would be none the wiser. She resented his smooth blond hair, his unwrinkled uniform, his chillingly blue eyes. Every part of him reeked of posh perfection—every part of him reminded her of all she’d been trying to escape from.

She swore to herself, right then and there, she would do whatever it took to be sure she never married Ominis Gaunt.

Chapter Two

209 notes · View notes

sugarquillz · 9 months

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Remus: Have you told anyone we're dating?

Sirius: Yes, I have no self control and I've told the whole school we are.

Remus: No need for sarcasm

Sirius: What sarcasm?

Remus: ...

Sirius: I've told everyone.

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sugarquillz · 9 months

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Regulus, to Sirius *drunk as hell*: Sirius thinks he knows everything but he doesn’t know i’m in love with James

Sirius: i’m sorry what?!

Regulus: sorry, my bad!

Regulus, to James: Sirius thinks he knows everything but he doesn’t know i’m in love with James

James: you’re- you’re in love with me?!

Regulus: …

Regulus: where the fuck is Pandora when i’m talking to her?!

6K notes · View notes

sugarquillz · 10 months

Text

Shy Beginnings

Summary: Y/N becomes friends with James Potter after she gives him notes that she took for Remus who was absent from class. It grows into something more, pairing two very opposite people together in something beautiful.

Pairings: Shy!Reader x James Potter

Warnings: Fluff, Some Bullying

Y/N glanced towards the door one last time before the Advanced Ancient Runes lecture began. The seat beside her remained vacant, to her surprise. She'd become friends with Remus Lupin at the beginning of the year when they'd been assigned to sit at the same table.

Remus had become a steady constant in her life and he rarely missed Advanced Runes. It was a class full of studious-type people, those who genuinely enjoyed research and writing long essays on the history or application of Runes. Most people didn't take Ancient Runes and even less took Advanced Runes. As such, it was an unspoken rule that if anyone had issues with another person in the class it was to be left out in the hallway. The Advanced Runes classroom was a sanctuary to those who entered it.

Y/N was quiet and shy. She'd always been that way. Remus was one of very few people that she would count as a friend, though she knew that the same couldn't be said for him - a Marauder.

Y/N had assumed that Remus would be like his 3 best friends but to her relief, he proved to be cut from a similar cloth as hers. Remus had been the one to lead the first few of their conversations, mostly about assignments, but as time went on she found herself opening up to him. He was a good laugh and had an easy presence to be around.

It was why she was so disappointed that he wasn't in class today. They'd been talking about this particular section all year and she knew that Remus had been more excited about it than anything else. Y/N sighed and bit her bottom lip. She reached down into her bag and pulled out two pieces of parchment and two quills.

She enchanted one of the quills to copy the other and began to write down notes from the lecture. She made a conscious effort to take more detailed notes than she needed, hoping that it would be enough.

By the time the lecture was over she'd filled 3 pieces of parchment that she carefully rolled and put in her bag.

The walk to Potions was relatively short. Y/N normally liked to get there early so that she could get settled at her station before it filled up. The loud noise after an hour of quiet normally left her with a headache.

"Black, while I appreciate the effort, you and Mr. Potter are not going to be partners," Professor Slughorn was saying as she walked in.

A cursory glance to his desk revealed a sulking Sirius Black who despite the initial answer, kept trying to be partnered with his friend. The friend in question was hunched over his station and was scribbling on parchment. It was likely the homework that they were supposed to have already done.

Y/N felt the blood rush quickly through her body and her stomach turn. She knew that the two boys would be the best chance at getting Remus the notes, but that meant that she had to talk to people that she didn't know.

Her hands shook as she put her bag down next to her chair. She bent down and pulled out the scroll, twisting it in her hands as she debated her two choices.

Sirius Black. He was a notorious flirt and very, very outgoing. He liked to tease and had a loud laugh. He was heard before he was seen and he always made sure that he was seen. But, he was very kind and was known to help out lost first years.

James Potter. He was also outgoing but let Sirius take the lead most of the time. He had an easy confidence that came from being good at almost anything that he tried. He liked to pull pranks, but Y/N had never seen him tease anyone about something he knew that they were nervous about.

Considering her current state, she was really aiming for someone who wouldn't bring up her tight fists around the scroll and her inability to hold eye contact. James it was.

She took a deep breath and walked over to his desk before she lost her nerve.

"Excuse me," she said to get his attention.

Chocolate brown eyes snapped up to her and she felt her heart beat faster at the feeling of such an intense focus. He'd stopped writing and his head tilted to the side as if surprised she was talking to him or maybe, just that she was there in the first place.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Umm, sorry. You're Remus Lupin's friend, right?" She hoped that he couldn't hear the way her voice wobbled as she apologized. Her eyes were focused on the scroll in her hands.

He placed his quill down, "No need to apologize, Love. I do, in fact, happen to be a friend of Lupin. It's one of my favorite titles."

She let out a small laugh at the way he said it, as if he was a king of old choosing a title from his favorite adventure.

He sat a little straighter in his chair as she brought her eyes back to his, "What can a humble, friend of Lupin's do for you?"

She bit her lip and held out her shaking hand with the scroll.

" I noticed that he wasn't in Advanced Runes today. These are the notes from the lecture and I was hoping that you could give them to him for me?"

His mouth fell open a little but he recovered quickly. James took the scroll from her gently, moving slowly as if not to startle her, which was observant on his part.

"I'll make sure it gets to him," he said with a curious expression on his face.

She nodded her thanks and walked away quickly. She'd just made it back to the safety of her seat when Sirius Black announced his presence to James.

"Mate, tell me that is not today's assignment."

"It came from Y/N?" Remus was asking him. His voice was hoarse, but he looked much better that he had when James had left him this morning.

James nodded, "Yeah, poor thing was shaking like a leaf the whole time."

Remus adjusted to sit up in his bed. He had poured over the notes for at least a few minutes in disbelief.

"That sounds like her. She's incredibly shy, it took her almost a full week to even form a full sentence to me. I was hoping that she saw me as a friend," Remus told him. "I'm surprised you didn't know her name."

"I am too, I thought that I knew everyone. I had to ask Alice and she had to ask Mary," James was speaking with his hands. It was something that he did when something was puzzling him.

"Merlin," Remus shook his head, "It took a lot for her to give you the notes."

Sirius flopped down next to Remus, "You're sure she's not a transfer?"

"Positive. She's been in transfigurations and runes with me since first year," Remus explained. He leaned his head into the feeling of Sirius' hands as he brushed his hair with his fingers.

"I can't believe I haven't seen her before," James said, looking extremely upset with himself.

"He certainly tried to make up for that today. The man didn't take his eyes off of her for the entirety of potions," Sirius muttered.

James rested his head in his hands, a familiar wistful expression taking over his face.

"She's beautiful," he whispered.

"Oh absolutely not," Remus said.

James whipped his head toward's him.

"She's my friend, you're not allowed to go full "Lily-Mode" on her. It'll freak her out and she'll stop talking to me," Remus said.

James looked extremely put-out, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Don't be stupid, Prongs."

Remus let out a loud laugh at that grew louder after James shoved Sirius off the bed.

James groaned, "What do I do then?"

Sirius pushed himself up off the floor, "Why don't you go to Lily and ask her. Learn from your failed attempt."

Ultimately, James thought this was the best idea he'd ever heard. It made perfect sense. He and Lily had become great friends after he'd realized that she'd been right about them to begin with. They were better friends than they would ever be as a couple, they argued way too much. As a couple that made them difficult but as friends it allowed them to better themselves.

"Lily?" He asked, sitting down across from her in the great hall.

She looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "What do you want?" She asked after seeing the look on his face.

"I need you to tell me how I could've flirted with you better," James said trying to give her his most angelic expression.

Lily's face grew panicked, "James, we've talked about this."

"What?" He asked, "Oh Merlin, not for you! Not that you're not great, but I definitely don't feel that way about you."

"Oh," Lily breathed out in relief.

James nodded, "Yeah, there's this girl and I really want things to go well."

His eyes were genuine and Lily felt her defenses fall. If he was willing to go out on a limb to ask her what he did wrong and potentially damage his ego, she was willing to help him.

Y/N was relieved to see Remus in the library the next day. He'd explained that he had a horrible cold and didn't feel well enough to go to class. He thanked her for her notes and they settled into an easy silence.

"Remus, have you figured out the historical context behind this rune?" She asked, pointing out the rune in question.

"Yeah, here," he said, sliding a book over to her. She'd just begun to write down the information when a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Hey, do you mind if I join you both?" James asked.

He seemed more hesitant than he had the last time that she'd seen him. He had his school bag hung over his left shoulder and was clutching on to the strap with both hands. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Sirius Black leaving the library with his hands curiously empty.

Remus chuckled, "What do you think Y/N?"

Her cheeks flushed at having to make the choice. She twisted her quill in between her thumb and pointer finger, swallowing down the lump of nerves that had gotten caught in her throat.

"Yeah, of course you can," She told him.

James nodded and gave her a small smile. He sat across from her and diagonally from Remus. She had thought that he might try to hold a conversation or distract them, but he proved to be almost as good of a study partner as Remus.

He was quiet and focused on the work in front of him. He only spoke to ask or answer a question and he didn't judge the mountain of books that she had grabbed to help write her essay. For the first time, Y/N could understand how he had become one of the best students in their year.

When he asked if it would be alright for him to join them again, Y/N agreed without hesitation.

She began to see him a lot more outside of her growing study group. In the hallways, he would always wave or nod his head if he was in the middle of a conversation with someone. He normally held the door open when he was walking into class, but now he seemed to wait for her outside of their shared classes to open it just for her.

During meal times, the marauders had shifted from their regular spot so that they were much closer to Y/N. It was nice because it allowed her to speak with Remus, but she was surprised to find out that James was nice to talk to as well. She still allowed him to be the one that started their conversations though.

Y/N was sitting by the Black Lake one afternoon, reading, when she heard James call out her name. She looked up to find a sweaty James in his quidditch practice uniform. She hadn't realized how muscular he was until they were on prominent display. It wasn't like she didn't know how attractive he was, she did have eyes but it was different looking at James, her friend.

The James in front of her was gaspingly hot. She quickly averted her eyes from his but that caused her to be looking openly at his biceps which caused her to blush, furiously.

"Hey Y/N," James said as he plopped down on the grass next to her. His scent of vanilla and musk swirled in the air around her with the breeze. He leaned back on his arms with one just slightly behind her back.

"Hey," she said back, mentally shaking her head at her lack of creativity.

"I have a very serious question for you," he said. His brown eyes were trying to peak into her own that were trained very purposefully on the ground.

She giggled, "If Sirius put you up to it then I'm not sure you should ask it."

His face erupted in a surprised smile, "Quite right. Umm, I was wondering if you were planning ong going to the Gryffindor Party after the match tomorrow?"

Y/N hugged her knees to her chest and used them to rest her head on.

"It's not really my scene," she told him.

He nodded, "Yeah, but I figured that because this one is supposed to be smaller, just 5th years and above, that you might consider it. Plus, myself and Remus will be there."

Her lips were pursed to the side in thought and she met his eyes for the first time since he sat down. She felt her resolve fade away at the hopefulness that was swimming around in them.

She sighed, "Ok."

James' eyebrows shot up his forehead in excitement, "Really?"

"Yeah, anything for you I guess," she whispered into her knees.

Y/N was rethinking her devotion to a certain gryffindor brunette as she stood outside of the portrait. She'd completely forgotten to ask when they were getting there and the thought of walking into a party alone required more confidence than she currently had.

She spun on her heel to walk as far away as she could when she ran into a head of flaming red hair.

"Oh Y/N!" Lily said in excitement. "I didn't realize that you were coming, here come with me."

Y/N wasn't left with any room to do otherwise as Lily looped her arm in her's and led her into the common room. James had been right. It was much less a party as it was a social event. There was light music in the background and groups of people were clustered together in various stages of conversation.

Lily led her over to the drinks and was about to hand her a glass of butterbeer when a blonde girl pulled her away loudly proclaiming that she needed help getting more snacks from the kitchens.

"Stay right there! I'll be right back," Lily shouted as she was pulled away.

Y/N settled herself so that she was leaning against the wall, partially hidden by a rather large oak bookshelf. She ran a hand through her hair nervously as she watched people she didn't know interact with other people that she didn't know.

She paused from taking a sip from her butterbeer when she heard her name coming from a group of girls on her left.

"Did you see that James has joined in on Remus' pity project?" The girl with raven hair asked.

"You mean, Y/N? Yeah, it's odd."

"I mean don't get me wrong, James has always been outgoing but Y/N is like the opposite of his type."

"I know! Have you seen the way that she's latched onto him? It's pathetic, she's got to realize that she doesn't have a chance with him. Honestly, I think she must be a way for James to make Lily jealous."

"No way! He's way over her. Besides, I'm hoping that I get a chance with him tonight."

The group of girls giggled and began to talk about the new uniform regulation, but Y/N didn't hear any of it as a block of ice settled in her veins.

Her mouth was parted slightly and her breaths came out broken. She should've known better. Why would two marauders want to hang out with her? Remus would've made sense because he's nice to everyone, but James would never look at her. They were too opposite, the girls were right. She had to get out of there before she put either of them or herself in a bad situation.

She put her glass down on the floor and stayed so close the the wall that her left shoulder was touching it the whole way to the portrait. She stumbled out of it and bumped directly into James.

"Woah, where's the fire? You alright?" He asked after seeing her panicked form.

"I-I um, I've got to go," Y/N muttered before pulling away and running down the hall.

"Y/N!" James called from behind her.

She didn't turn, just kept running until she stood by the shoreline of the Black Lake. She leaned over with her hands on her knees, gulping down as much of the cold air as she could. She straightened up at the sound of footfalls coming from behind her.

"James?" She asked, turning to see him coming to a stop behind her. He was just as winded and his face held a handsome flush. He was panting but was determined.

"Why- Did- You- Run Away- From- the Party?" He asked, trying to control his breathing.

She looked out over the lake, "Because they're right. We're too different and I don't know why I thought that this could work."

He squinted at her, "Who? Wait, what do you mean too different?"

Y/N sighed and turned to face him fully. "What I mean is that those girls in there were right. You're James Potter and I'm Me. I don't know why I ever let myself entertain the idea of a relationship between us. You're just going to get bored of me once you're done chasing me. You live a life full of excitement with all of your thousand friends and I live a quiet life with a few."

James clenched his jaw and shook his head angrily, "That's the most fucked up thing I've ever heard you say."

Y/N stared at him.

"How could you even think that," he continued, "when you are one of the most incredible and interesting people that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting? I could never get bored of you, that's completely ridiculous. If anything you'll tire of me and my stupidity."

James voice rose as he grew more passionate, " And you know what? I am James Bloody Potter and that means that the only person who gets to tell me that I don't get to be in a relationship with you is you. I wouldn't give a shite if Merlin himself came down and forbid me. I literally live to break ridiculous rules. You are Y/N, but you're wrong to think that means that you are less than. You're intelligent, witty, and so beautiful I swear that every time that I look at you my heart falls out of my arse."

Y/N let out a loud laugh at that, swiping at the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

"I don't think you realize how much you influence every thing that I do. Hell, I asked Lily Evans on advice for how to flirt with you so that I wouldn't fail miserably! I even-" James was cut off mid-sentence.

Y/N reached up and kissed him square on the mouth, knocking his glasses askew. He arms wrapped around her quickly and held her up against his chest. Y/N let her hands travel into his soft hair and pull slightly on the curls.

She pulled away from him before it got to heated, both of them red-cheeked and winded.

"Did you really ask Lily Evans for advice about me?"

James nodded, looking down shyly in a very uncharacteristic way. His eyes captured hers, "Did you mean it when you said that you'd thought about a relationship with me?"

Y/N bit her lip and nodded. James reached up and pulled her lip from her teeth with his thumb. His eyes were focused on her mouth when he asked, "Will you let me take you on a proper date? One that doesn't involve the common room or the bloody lake?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like that a lot," Y/N whispered.

James response was a toe curling kiss that Y/N was sure she'd feel the memory of tomorrow.

711 notes · View notes

sugarquillz · 10 months

Text

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

sirius black x fem! reader

Request: yes / no

Synopsis: Sirius likes to tease you by speaking french but maybe he’s more easily flustered than you are.

Warning/content: kissing and that's it i think, no proofreading and my bad English

a.n.: 1.1k words - it is very funny but cringe to write as a french person and it's not my best fic but here you go.

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

There were pros and cons to dating Sirius Black. A lot of pros actually, he was distracting, pointed stars at you at night, showered you with compliments every day and so on and so forth. And, at first, you thought that the fact that he knew how to speak french was a good thing.

It’s true, it sounded good and it made you fall in love with him again every time he spoke. But right now, you just wanted him to stop. Because one of the cons to dating Sirius Black was that he loved to tease you. He loved to see you look down, avoid any visual contact with him with wide eyes.

And one way to get you was to speak french to you over and over again with words you couldn’t understand. By the tone of his voice you knew they were compliments but it still made you feel weird.

“Stop,” you said but your laugh betrayed you.

“Why would I stop?” Sirius was maybe a dog in his animagus form but as a human he also knew how to master the puppy face “Tu es si belle.” He was hovering over you, his hand stroking your cheek.

You felt heat rushing to your face. “W-what does it mean?” you stuttered. Sirius let out a chuckle, finding you more than adorable like this.

He let his forehead rest against yours “You don’t need to know. Just trust me, okay?” you nodded, unsure if you could believe him or not. Sirius leaned in and pulled you into a small kiss “Do you like it when I speak french?” you nodded again, too shy to admit it out loud. “That’s great because I like it too.”

Your smile widened when he buried his head in the crook of his neck. For a few minutes, both of you didn’t talk before Sirius broke the silence again “You are so pretty”

“What?” you said confused.

“That’s what Tu es si belle means,” he said, changing his previous teasing smirk for a genuine smile that matched his now pink cheeks.

“O-oh” why so little was enough to make you flustered?

Sirius laughed “Why are you acting like I never said it before?” he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “If you need to hear it again, tu es belle. Je pense que tu es la personne la plus magnifique du monde”

You gave up on trying to understand what he meant and just enjoyed how the language tasted on his tongue, letting his words calm your ears. “Thank you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes, feeling sleep starting to get you.

“You don’t know what I said,” he laughed. Sirius moved both of you so you were the one on top, wrapping his arms around your waist as you settled on his chest, your head rising and falling with his breathing.

You hummed, “I know. But I bet it’s nice so thank you.” you smiled, drawing your hand to his hair, slowly brushing your fingers through it. Sirius let out a content sigh, he had to admit that talking to you in french was a way to spare his pride. Everybody knew he wasn’t the best to express his feelings so having a one-sided conversation weirdly made him feel safe. He could say everything he wanted, getting everything off his chest, making his heart lighter without having to face the consequences. It was selfish he knew it, but he couldn’t help it.

“Je t’aime tellement,” he said barely more audible than a whisper.

Suddenly you lifted your head, surprising Sirius in the process “You love me?” Sirius didn’t tell you the three words yet, and you couldn’t blame him, you weren’t together for a long time and he grew up not knowing what love and affection were. Accepting he was loved was already hard enough so accepting that he was feeling this way was more than difficult.

Blood won Sirius’ cheeks, turning them red “H-how do you know?”

“I know je t’aime means I love you. It’s a pretty common thing to know.” You watched his expression fall, almost as if he was disappointed. “Hey,” you held his face between your hands “I love you too okay? Je t’aime” you said in a hideous french accent that resulted in making him laugh.

“Don’t make fun of me!” you said with a laugh, happy to see him happy again “I was trying to be romantic!”

“You can be romantic in English, chérie”

“Pff while you, you are flexing your french.” you rolled your eyes playfully.

He laughed at your fake pout “C’mon, don’t sulk” he pressed his lips to your cheek “I just think it sounds pretty. Tu es l’amour de ma vie, I have to sound pretty to you”

“First, what does it mean? And second, even if you sounded like a dying horse I would love you so much.” You grinned when Sirius flushed a bit.

He hid his red cheeks, moving his face to the side against the blanket, his hand covering the other side of his face.

“Why are you hiding?” you whispered, the teasing tone of the conversation changing for a calmer one, ready to listen to each other’s feelings. “Sirius?” you turned his head to you.

“I-I don’t want to tell you what it means,” he stutters.

You offered him a reassuring smile “Okay, take your time, love”

He was so grateful to have you and he knew you deserved to know but he didn’t seem to be brave enough. He let himself a few minutes, gathering all his courage to tell you. He felt like it was too early in the relationship to tell you this but fuck it. He loves you so much.

“Um,” he swallowed hard, “I said… I said you’re the love of my life” Sirius wished he could dig a grave right now and just bury himself alive. Your silence was so scary to him.

“Y-you said I’m the love of your life?” you were beaming, not quite possibly believing what he just told you.

“I- er- yeah”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you as much as possible “You’re the love of my life too, Sirius”

And there, right on a picnic blanket next to the Black Lake, Sirius melt. His feelings for you burned him, making him weak in a way he couldn’t deny he loved. But he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t going to change in one day, too many confessions were revealed in an hour. He had to protect himself, and humour was his best weapon.

“But would you still love me if I were a worm?” he said, pulling on his best puppy face.

“Sirius!”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ sirius back taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sw34terw34ther @cauliflowertree @madison-rebel @moonlitmeeks @loveeharrington @mad-elia @elenatries2write @juneberrie @f4iry-blush @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @sparklenarniawizard @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin @natashxromanovf @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @garfieldsladybird @starconfettii @kidcuisinesvcks @percy-the-hufflepuff @fairydxll @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @innerloverpainter @nyxxxxxxxx @venussflytraps @diorgirl444 @oncasette @locke-writes

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