#Hogwarts legacy insert

[slytherinsomniari]

HL OC Headcanon: How Aesop Sharp Proposed to Eleanor Knightley

I decided that I would post this here as well. I didn't flesh it out and maybe someday I will fully write it out, but for now, here is how Professor Sharp Proposed to my oc Eleanor Knightley.

Aesop Sharp visits Eleanor's family with her once they've been together for a while & drops a bombshell by asking her father for his blessing. Eleanor is completely shocked, not expecting this at all. She blushes and stutters out, asking what he's doing but is told to be quiet. As she looks into his eyes, she sees a firm determination that she's never seen before—even in him. He is dead set on this. Professor Sharp and her father move to her father's office to discuss business. Sharp puts forth his desires and talks about the specifics like the dowry, where she would live, etc. In the meantime, Eleanor sits there gob smacked in the parlor. Looking to her mother for help, she only gets a wry smile & a giggle. It appears that she was to be left in the dark—a first time for her, especially with something so big. The only thing she can do is anxiously wait until Sharp got done talking to her father.

Eventually he exits her father's office & reenters the parlor. Eleanor jolts as soon as she sees him and his eyes narrow like a hawk. With firm steps he walks towards her, telling her that they are to take a stroll in the garden. She reluctantly agrees, finding the whole situation confusing and flustering. As they stroll through the garden, it is made apparent that the girl that was once so loud, once so confident, is now a confused, meek girl. Her mind is flooded with so many thoughts and as she is led through the garden where she grew up—the place she used to run through & explore so daringly as a child.

After a while, Sharp stops once they are further into the garden, away from prying eyes. He turns to her, staring directly into her eyes. "Eleanor" he says, his voice coming out as both soft and firm at the same time, "You are one of the most foolhardy, arrogant, mischievous young women I know. You brazenly defy all authority, taking no orders from anyone—taking your life as well as others—into your own hands and damning the consequences. You maintain a daring attitude in spite of your proper upbringing and have become such an astonishingly brave young woman—whether that be influence from your brothers or your own choosing.

Despite all this, or rather, because of it, I have grown fond of you. You have somehow made yourself irreplaceable to me. You mean the world to me—a thought in which would have been impossible before. Your chaos, your reckless deeds, your confidence and pride in yourself and appearance that bears no conceit, your uncanny ability to draw people in...they are all parts of you that I adore. The person—no—woman I love is so much more than the sum of her parts. The love I bear for you grows stronger every moment I spend in your presence. You, Eleanor, have changed me. Wholly and utterly changed me. I cannot go on any longer without you—without knowing of your affection—without knowing if you feel the same.

You are young, this is true, and many at Hogwarts will come to question our relationship. But that is no matter. The only people that matter in this are you and I—and only you can end my suffering.

I never would have dreamt that you would become so dear to me. I would love to have you, to be with you, to hold you close every waking moment. You are the one I want in my bed beside me. If time but allowed us to meet sooner we would have had more to spend together, but that is not the case. All I can offer you is the time with me now and forever, until old age makes us part. And that is enough, for I am blessed to spend but even one second in your presence—in the light of your love. Eleanor, would you do me the honor and walk with me? Not under my control, but side by side? Now and forever, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?"

The look on Eleanor's face says everything. Her mouth hangs open and her skin is pale yet rosy, tears pooling in her brilliant green eyes. She had wanted this moment for a while, but never knew if or when it would come. And it was not a leash and collar—it was a marriage of equals, one where she would retain her independence and freedom. She would not have to bow down in meek acceptance like the muggle women do in high society. She could do whatever she wanted, with the one she loves by her side.

"Yes!" She exclaims with a teary smile. Touched by all of the emotion that came from the usually stern professor, Eleanor is truly beginning to understand the depth of his feelings.

"I would love nothing more, Aesop, than to spend the rest of my life with you until eternity and beyond. Now and forever, in everlasting bliss."

[aiden-bevelle]

Y/N: I'd die for you, Sebastian.

Sebastian: I'd kill for you, Y/N.

Ominis: Both of you need to calm the fuck down.

[animasola86]

Sebastian Sallow's Hands

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut // Words: 2.7k // [READ ON AO3]

Notes: I woke up thinking about Sebastian's hands, so... I wrote this, whatever this is. Drabble? Headcanon? Plotless porn? I don't know. It's about hands, I think. Maybe? (It escalated a little...)

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content!

Sebastian Sallow is a handsy guy.

You've noticed it when he would grab your hand and pull you along or out of dangerous situations, or when he sits next to you and just talks, usually with his hands if they are not resting on your arm or back or thigh... and the more you get to know him, and the closer you get, the more he would touch you, bolder and more confident, but usually still appropriate enough for the public space you are in.

But as soon as the two of you would be alone somewhere, truly alone, his hands would be all over you. Tangled in your hair, stroking your back, exploring all of your curves, cupping your face to pull you towards him for a heated kiss. And whenever you'd end up lying on a couch or a bed together, he'd have his hands wrapped around your stomach or your hips or firmly holding your breasts.

Perhaps he is also a boob guy.

That is certainly his favourite body part of yours. His large hands would be holding your soft mounds like something fragile, fingers carefully encircling the shape, weighing them gently, applying just enough pressure that you'd know what he is doing, and sometimes he would just hold them when he'd be lying behind you, bodies pressed together, relaxing, his hands supporting your breasts like a bra made out of warm skin and muscles.

And you like it, of course you do, him just cupping them with his beautiful hands, calloused but also soft, with those veins and tendons protruding under thin freckled skin, those long fingers bending just the right way, reminding you of other places his hands have been...

He is a handsy guy, but you are a hand appreciater. A hand lover. Or lover of his hands. Match made in heaven.

You don't know if he knows how you sometimes stare at his hands, how you take in every detail of them, but he indulges you, moves them over your body, touches you everywhere, playfully slides his fingers over your skin, under your clothes, into your hair, traces the lines of your body with gentle movements.

And you either melt into the soft touches, or you come undone by them. It's one or the other. Or the same.

And as much as you love watching his hands, you appreciate them even more when you can feel them, really feel them. Gripping your hair with a strength that always surprises you, or closing around your throat hard enough to make you gasp. Or when he grabs you by the waist and manhandles you into any position he likes best at the moment, and you usually let him. How could you ever resist him and his hands?

And when they are back around your breasts, kneading them, teasing them, long fingers pressing into soft flesh before they focus on your sensitive nipples, rolling them between fingertips, pinching them, pulling them, all you can do is mewl under the sensations.

Yet as rough as he can sometimes be with his hands, he uses the rest of his body to soothe you afterwards. Mainly his mouth. And what a mouth he has, a dirty one, you know that, spilling things nobody should say out loud, but then there are also his lips, those kissable lips, eagerly moving against yours or down your jaw and onto your neck, pressing soft kisses into your skin until he gets his teeth and tongue involved too.

And oh that tongue...

(You realize the more you think about Sebastian, the less you can decide what part of him you like the most. Perhaps it's the entire package...)

He is so good with his tongue. Be it during a kiss or when he explores your body, licking and nibbling and sucking on your lips or earlobes or breasts or any patch of skin he can reach, sometimes leaving those marks on you that you can barely hide the next day that he always soothes with a lap of that eager tongue, warm and wet and enticing.

And while his big hands hold your waist (or you in place as you can't stop squirming), he moves his tongue around your nipples until they're hard and almost aching, then sucks on them like a man parched, always teasing and easing them with the tip of this very versatile, wet muscle.

Then he moves lower, laving your stomach, dipping into your belly button, kissing your hipbones, his palms always running along your sides, exploring ahead until they grip your thighs and pull them apart when he plants eager pecks on your mound.

The things he does between your legs should be classified as unspeakable. At least they render you completely speechless, or breathless, or brainless, as all you can do is whimper and moan and gasp and cry out in nothing but pleasure when he presses his mouth to your folds, lapping between your lower lips, licking up any wetness he creates with those expert motions.

He usually focuses on any inch of sensitive skin – except your clit. That he lets to its own devices until it's throbbing and you're so needy you buck your hips against his face. Then his hands are back, holding you firmly, fingers digging into your skin, sometimes bruising it with how hard he grips you, while he continues his journey along your weeping pussy, kissing and licking and sucking, pulling your folds between his teeth, teasing them. He even dips his tongue into your entrance, moving that muscle in ways you don't think possible.

And while you dissolve beneath him, body twitching but no longer protesting, he moves his hands around your rear and grabs your bum cheeks, kneading them with nimble fingers as he presses you closer to his face, diving deeper. And only then does he move towards your clit. It's usually one or two licks and you spasm against him, crying out louder, and a few more licks until you come against his face hard.

His hands will find yours then, fingers slipping between your own, holding you, squeezing you, supporting you through the spasm of your body.

He may lap up your wetness, but he also never stops until he pulls at least one more orgasm out of you as he enjoys seeing you come undone, let go, forget everything that has ever bothered you. And oh, how light-headed and carefree you are once he is done with you.

Or, once his mouth is done with you. Because then he starts using his fingers, and you never come down from that high when he rubs that sensitive bundle of nerves with one hand while the other moves over your folds, parting those lips, stroking along that wet sensitive skin until he pushes one fingertip into you, teasing you, feeling your walls clench around it.

And slowly he pushes it deeper, one knuckle at a time, pressing into your tightness, massaging and exploring your soft flesh, while his other hand lies flat on your lower stomach, feeling those contractions, and his thumb is placed firmly on your clit, rubbing it in circles.

You're probably a mewling mess by now, barely able to appreciate those beautiful hands and fingers anymore, but he keeps going, pulling his finger out and replaces it with two, easily slipping in, deeper, stretching your walls when he scissors them inside you, and when he bends them just right, and presses against that one spot, and he does, at the same time as he pushes hard on your clit, you erupt in pleasure at the motion, your noises unintelligible.

He fingerfucks you through your orgasm, pushing those long digits in and out, fast and hard, savouring these squelching noises that you'd be embarrassed about if you weren't floating near the ceiling right now. He gets even bolder and adds a third finger, stretching you further, preparing you for yet another adventure.

In and out they go, while his thumb still circles your clit, and he may even bend down and give your inner thighs some soft kisses or rough nibbles, probably both, marking you up even more. And you buck and convulse and twitch against him, lost in ecstasy, but when he pulls those fingers out and stops assaulting your clit, you watch him out of hooded eyes, only to melt even more into whatever surface you're lying on as you witness him putting his glistening fingers to his lips and licking them clean with that sensual hum that drives you crazy.

And then he is crawling on top of you, pressing his wet mouth to yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue as he shoves it between your lips, swallowing your mewls and moans, while his fingers dig into your hair, tugging it slightly, holding you in place as he kisses you even more senseless.

You barely notice when his hands move, one down between your bodies, one to close around your throat, gently choking you while he grabs his hard cock and lines it up with your eager entrance. And when he pushes the tip in, you gasp, and he presses against your throat, silencing that gasp, and his hips move against yours, gentle stabs to ease his length into your tight cunt, while he keeps kissing you deeply, muffling more of your noises.

Once he's sheathed completely inside you, filling you out perfectly, he eases his grip on your throat and massages your neck with those long fingers, his thumb pressed against your chin, guiding you into the kiss. He gives you a tiny bit of reprieve, letting you adjust to his intrusion, and even though you feel full and barely able to move or breathe, you mould against him, your legs falling open until they hook around the back of his thighs, pulling him even deeper.

He leans back slightly, watching you with a dark gaze, brown eyes barely recognizable with how dilated his pupils are, how hungry he is for you. His freckled face is hard, concentrated, jaw clenched with that muscle moving so deliciously beneath his skin.

His hand is still holding your throat, then you feel his other hand moving back up, gliding over your curves until a warm palm presses to your breast, cupping it gently before he starts kneading it, rubbing it against your nipple until it hardens. He is so enthralled by the feel of your soft flesh that he lets go of your throat and leans back, hips still pressed against yours, deeply connected, while he grabs your other breast as well, holding them firmly in his large hands, warm and safe.

He keeps groping them, alternating between rough squeezes and gentle presses, your hard buds scraping over his calloused skin, and watches your face closely as he does so. You're so relaxed now, you've almost forgotten his hard cock resting inside your tight cunt, but only until he suddenly starts moving.

Pulling out to slam back in, repeatedly, over and over again, and each time he thrusts deep, you yelp and rock over the surface you're on, up and down, but his hands on your breasts hold you in place. He uses them to guide you, gripping them with his arms outstretched as he slams his hips against you. Your legs fall open again, too boneless to hold onto him, and your entire body moves with his powerful thrusts.

You'd watch his muscles ripple under his skin, those tendons moving with every motion, but you thrash your head back and dissolve into a puddle of bliss as he keeps driving his length and girth into you, stretching your walls while they clench around him, his rapid rhythm rendering you unable to do anything but lie in front of him, issuing those noises that make him move even faster.

The tension in your stomach tightens, and while he pinches your nipples, he thrusts deep, always hitting the farthest spot, until you cry out and arch your back, stars dancing behind your eyelids, limbs twitching uncontrollably as you come hard on his cock.

He pulls you up then, arms wrapped around your body as he presses you to his chest, his mouth finding your shoulder for some breathy kisses before he bites down slightly, and you can barely move your own arms, but you try to snake them around him, holding onto him, fingernails digging into his back as he quickens his pace even more.

Your combined moans and groans echo through the room while you lean your cheek against his collarbone and he holds you with strong hands, one between your shoulder blades, one on your lower back, as he pounds into you hard and fast, until a grunt leaves his throat and he gives you one final thrust, hitting your cervix with precision, which makes you come undone all over again.

He stills inside you as you convulse, and you feel him twitching between your fluttering walls. His embrace tightens as he comes inside you, painting your womb with his hot seed. Rough breaths hit your ear as he slowly relaxes with you in his arms, and for a moment neither of you move, as the warmth you both created spreads through your body like a wildfire.

You feel exhausted and close your eyes, even though you want to watch how he gently pries your arms away from him and places you on your back again, his hands roaming your sweaty body, caressing your tender breasts until they move to your thighs, holding onto them as he steps back and slips out of you. You can feel the globs of warm cum dripping from your hole, and you couldn't care less where they go and what they soil, but then you feel his fingers on your sensitive skin and your eyes flutter open.

He watches you with a tired smirk as he circles your clit with one finger before he dips the same one into your pussy, shoving his seed back in. A small gasp escapes you as he keeps fingering you until he's satisfied his essence remains inside you. When he withdraws that finger, it is coated in your combined juices, glistening, dripping, and you see him raising it towards his mouth, but somehow you manage to lean up and close your shaking hands around his wrist and pull his hand towards your own mouth.

His eyes sparkle in admiration when he watches you lick his finger clean, a little growl escaping his throat. You hold his gaze as you give his other fingers the same treatment, your tongue lapping around those beautiful digits and between them and along the back of his hand, and when he bends his fingers, you feel those tendons and veins move against your tongue, and a deep shudder rushes through your body.

You cradle his big hand between your smaller ones, admiring every single detail of it, noticing the little freckles on it, the sharp edges of his wrist, the hair moving up his arm, the veins snaking around it and the muscles tensing beneath his skin. And he watches you closely, mesmerized by how much attention you pay to his hand.

And you're not done. You give every knuckle a gentle peck, licking over every crease, nibble on his fingertips, and when you reach his pinkie you turn his hand palm up, lapping at the lines on it, moving towards his pulse, before you focus back on his thick thumb.

His eyes widen slightly when you pull it between your lips and start sucking on it playfully, your eyes gleaming in mischief and delight. His own amusement quickly turns into arousal as you continue working on his thumb, pushing it as deep as it can go into your mouth, and he groans slightly when you graze your teeth over it while your tongue swirls around it eagerly.

And that's when he questions if his favourite part of you really are your breasts. He loves them, he even moves his free hand to knead at one as he watches you, but he can't deny that you have a very talented mouth as well.

So the cycle repeats itself, and at the end of the day, you both realize you are just crazy about each other, every body part included. Though you still always adore his hands a tiny bit more.

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

Sebastian Sallow headcanons

NSFW Sebastian Sallow headcanons

NSFW Hogwarts in the 1890s headcanons

Screenshots of Sebastian's Hands Masterlist

[roarieluz]

Who Do You Smell? (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has had a crush on Y/N for a while now, this isn't news to him but when a strong batch of amortentia is made for potions class it is hard to keep his mind clear of anything that isn't about you and what he wants to do to you.

Warning: contains mild smut as this is about Sebastian's fantasies while in class.

Rushed footsteps trekked along the cobblestone hallways of Hogwarts, echoing into excessive sounds of pitter-patter and endless conversations.

“We have an exam…TODAY?!”

“Did you hear about what happened in Hogsmeade yesterday?”

“You’ll never guess who I saw Poppy Sweeting with!”

Countless students made almost a sea of cloaks as they tried to make it to their next class on time without any pestering ghosts or moving stairs to slow them down. It was almost daunting to try and part the waves of children and teens, Sebastian thought. It was so daunting that he couldn’t help but at least acknowledge the nagging pit of a feeling that told him he would be better off droning away in the undercroft for an hour or two. Alas, Headmaster Black had already warned him that if he missed one more lesson there would be worse things than detention waiting for him.

How dramatic.

The Slytherin made his way to class nonetheless, not due to the threats of expulsion but rather the company that awaited him. If he had ditched, Ominis would give him a terrible earful no doubt, which would be a shame as that would get in the way of all the other trouble their little group could find themselves in. There was also the issue of leaving his potion’s partner, Y/N alone. How could he leave her all by her lonesome? After all, who would give her quippy one-liners to help pass the time in that dreary class? Gareth Weasley? The thought alone almost made him laugh.

His feet paused, finding himself now in front of the open door to the potions classroom. He always needed a moment before trudging into the smoke-filled haze of a room. It was always hotter than the other classes, almost on par with the humidity that suffocated him in herbology. Deep in the classroom, he could already spot his partner despite the slight fog between them. She was talking to Ominis, who sat at the desks in front of them. Her cloak was off, he noted, thrown to the opposite side of their table like a forgotten rag. He took in the sight of her leaning against the table to whisper something into his friend's ear. Her long sleeves rolled up to help combat against the heat that radiated from the cauldron centered on their table.

This is why I come to this class.

“Sebastian! There you are!” Y/N said as she looked up to see him still standing in the hallway. She waved him over with a warm smile still plastered on her lips, a smile she always had reserved for him…at least he’d like to think so.

“Just in time too.” Ominis commented, his tone comparable to a mother.

“Yes, yes, hold your applause.” Sebastian playfully replied as he took his seat next to Y/N, his tower of books hitting the hardwood of the table with a thud. She rolled her eyes at him but the smile didn’t fade away from her lips. It was a look he knew all too well, in fact, he looked forward to it. What could he say to make her roll her eyes in the back of her head? What comment could his mind come up with to make her so facetious? It was a fun game of his, one where he had to carefully walk the line if he wanted to keep her beautiful smile in his sight.

“Sit down, class is about to start.” Professor Sharp announced with a deadpan. He walked in front of his desk, leaning on the stable wood as he stared into the classroom, noting who was present or not. To his surprise Sebastian sat with a smug grin next to Y/N, even giving the professor a little wave, as if he knew he was shocked to see him. He wasn’t amused by the notion, but kept on with the class, not wanting to give him any more attention to his childish antics.

“Would anyone like to explain to me why they might think this month might be one of the most dangerous months of the year?” Sharp asked as he studied the fifth-year’s expressions of puzzlement.

Sebastian raised his eyebrow at the question. Dangerous? What could make February more dangerous than any other month of the year?

He looked over at Y/N, confusion all over his face, hoping to get insight from her. She’s only faced more danger than anyone else in the room besides perhaps the professor himself. If anyone would know, surely it would be her.

She simply met his expression with a quizzical look of her own, shrugging her shoulders stiff, not a single thought to the question. He quickly looked in front to see Ominis, hopefully, he might know instead then. His best friend had his eyes closed and arms crossed as if he was in deep thought….or in a deep sleep. Whatever the case was it was obvious he too was left in the dark like the rest of the class.

Being so deep in thought Sebastian hadn’t realized the sweat that started to form on his brow. The heat in this room got to him a little earlier than he expedited it to. It was almost suffocating and he had only been here for a couple of minutes.

“Nobody? Not a single soul has one idea as to why,” Sharp continued to ask, hoping for someone to at least try and spit out a wrong answer. However, only the sound of bubbling cauldrons and burning crackles from the flames answered him back.

“Amortentia,” the professor simply let out a heavy sigh that oozed with disappointment as he pushed himself off his desk to make his way around the class. Sebastian mentally facepalmed

Of course, February! Valentine's Day was in this blasted month.

“I only teach this potion with its antidote. So don’t get funny ideas for next week,” Sharp warned his students, pointing at every student in his room. “Every year a handful of you try to use a love potion on some sorry soul and every year they get in trouble. So you will know what's good for you if you have any sense.” He added before going into more detail about the potion itself.

He talked about how it was formed…the ingredients they would need…the order to brew. Sebastian heard the words.

Truly.

But as Sharp’s lecture rang on in the background Sebastian’s eyes wandered to his left. Y/N sat there looking up at their professor with half-closed eyelids, her long lashes hanging over her beautiful eyes. She rested her head on her closed fist, her body slightly turned to face Sebastian though her attention still faced Sharp. She thoughtlessly played with her hair, her expression almost dreamy as if she was openly lost in her mind. The air started to feel heavier with the murky haze that filled the room the longer he looked at her. He pulled at his collar as he noticed a dollop of sweat sliding down from Y/N’s collarbone into her blouse. Her cleavage taunting him.

The heat of the room practically boiling in him now with such an image of her.

“I’m bloody hot, are you?” Y/N asked in a hushed whisper as she attempted to fan herself, she glanced at Sebastion when she noted his stare.

“I always am..” He responded without hesitation.

Y/N rolled her eyes again as she had before class started, playful and casual. He wondered what she would look like if he was able to roll her eyes for a different reason. He imagined her leaning over their shared desk looking more disheveled than appropriate. Her pretty eyes rolling in the back of her head as she lets out a deep moan, her lips still forming a devious smile. The thought makes him feel a twitch below his belt as he realizes a small ache had been forming the instant he saw her today.

Sebastian had always had a crush on Y/N, this wasn’t exactly something new to him. There had been plenty of times he worked himself over just by looking at you. Though he would like to think that he would build himself over the entire day… definitely not in just 5 minutes.

“As you line up to smell the Amortentia in the cauldron on my desk you may notice the…. effects…of the potion. Once you leave the classroom they will subside since you haven’t drank the potion. This stuff is so strong, the smell alone can affect you.” Sharp informed the class.

Of course, the potion.

Sebastian awkwardly coughed as he stood up, thankful for his cloak. He was sure every boy in the class must be praising the heavy fabric if the potion was as strong as the professor said. Y/N, Sebastian, and Ominis made their way in line to smell the concoction, waiting their turn. Sebastian noticed that while a couple of people mentioned what they smelled, there were a few who kept that information to themselves. He wondered what it was that made them so quiet. Either way, the damned thing smelt different to each person for some reason. Wasn’t it just meant to make you fall in love with someone? If only he would have been able to pay attention to what Sharp had been saying but he had been a tad distracted by his partner.

Speaking of which, Y/N was the first of the little trio to stand in front of the rather old-looking cauldron. She closed her eyes as she let her hands help waft the smoke toward her. As she took a deep breath in, her eyes shot open as if she had recognized the smell almost instantly.

“What is it? What do you smell?” Sebastian asked with curiosity oozing from his voice.

“I smell…old books, burning candles, and butterbeer.” She said softly as she glanced at the two boys, a blush creeping up her ears as her eyes met Sebastian.

“How quaint.” Ominis commented through a grin as if he knew precisely who smelt like such a strange combination.

Sebastian didn’t think that could be the smell of love though he didn’t exactly know what he would say the scent of love would be like but definitely not old books. Perhaps floral like roses or sweet like cherries? Love in a bottle had to be stereotypical, it made the most sense to him.

Sebastian stepped up, pulling the lid up and letting the fumes wash over him. The mist of the potion overcame him as if he had just walked into a sauna. He felt an urge tingle from the tips of his toes to the very ends of his hair. A rush so strong in his body he could practically count his pulse from the zealous beats his heart made, throbbing in what felt like his throat.

Her.

He could only smell her.

He gulped trying to breathe in anything that wasn’t this potion's musk. The smell was sweet and heavy just like how he thought but it was more than he could handle. He could sink in the delight of it all as if he could be happily drowned in it. He imagined that this would be the very smell that could suffocate him while he was on his knees between your legs.

“Heaven” he blurted out carelessly as the thought of eating you out filled his mind.

“Very descriptive,” Ominis replied, helping Sebastian to get out of his head and back into reality.

“My thoughts exactly. What does heaven even smell like? That could be anything” Y/N asked with a furrowed brow.

Sebastian paused, trying to put into words what the woman in front of him smelt like. It was hard to put into words. The smell was more like flashes of constant memories that reminded him of Y/N rather than what she smelt like every day.

He could smell the rain, the petrichor that radiates from the grass; the image of you running in the storm with him, white blouse drenched and clinging to your chest, raindrops dripping from your hair, the sound of your laughter. What a day that had been, so carefree, so full of joy for just being in the mommet. He kept that memory close to him; a loop he would play when his thoughts went to dark and dreary places.

In the next instant, he could smell the scorch marks from flames nipping at the cobblestone in the undercroft. The heavy smoke poisoned his lungs and filled his mind with such intoxication over the past. The day he had taught you confringo lingering in the back of his mind.

It had been one of the first times he had gotten close to you.

The memory of being pressed against your back, Sebastian’s face mere inches from your soft hair-your locks tickling the tip of his nose. His hand had been wrapped around your wrist as he helped with your wand movements. You had looked at him so innocently then, putting all your faith in him even though you had barely known each other. He could still see the small smudge of soot smudged on your cheek and the way you looked up at him with such big eyes for guidance.

The memory had only gotten sweeter like wine after seeing you master his spell. Seeing you cast it with ease, power, and confidence; that alone would always send shivers down his spine amid battle. He would always be a part of you when you cast that spell…forever.

The smell warped into something else entirely, putting him off guard until he was able to realize the mystery aroma was incense: warm, woody, and thick. It was the same kind that Professor Onai used in her classroom the day she taught palmistry. He had held your hands that day, his large hands engulfing yours in warmth. It had been the perfect excuse to touch you then, so freely and openly with everyone watching. His fingers brushed against your skin softly, his touch could barely be described as a graze but the tension was more than palpable. He had read your palm that day, hoping he could see himself in your loveline. He believes that he did. Even if he didn’t he would find a way to change it to make it so.

“Well, it's certainly not butterbeer,” Sebastian finally responded, putting himself back in the present.

Y/N blushed, flustered by the comment before whacking him on his shoulder. “I should have never told you,” she responded in a huff, making her way back to their desk.

Sebastian followed, chuckling at her reaction but also thankful he was able to avoid having to explain what heaven smells like.

“Does anyone want to know what it smells like to me?” Ominis asked himself as he stood in front of the cauldron alone; the sarcasm and annoyance drowning his words as he found his way back to his desk. Professor Sharp stood before the classroom, waiting for everyone to get their bearings again.

“It seems like some of you are rather open to telling everyone what you find most attractive…that or just the smell of the person you seem to find yourself in a new entanglement in with this week..how brave of you,” Sharp commented with what must be his attempt at an amused grin before going back to his solemn state.

Sebastian glanced at Y/N, wondering who it was for her. Who smelt like old books and could still have her head over heels for them? She had never even brought up liking a person before. His hands formed into fists on the desk, images flashing of someone else being with her the way he daydreamed. He couldn’t even bear the thought and had to quickly stop before he lost himself.

He heard Professor Sharp go into further detail about the potion before teaching how to make the antidote for amortentia. At least that was as much as Sebastian could recall, he knows that was the subject but simply couldn’t tell you how to make the damned thing. His attention was more on you than the class itself. He needed to get out of this classroom and fast before he reached his limits. Even with the cauldron covered the smell seeped and filled the classroom, working its magic on everyone in it. He couldn’t even imagine how he would be if he actually drank it. He understands why people who had been under its effects would practically throw themselves at the person in question now.

You sat there a complete tease and were none the wiser. The way you grabbed onto your skirt from your thigh, hiking up the fabric higher than it was before. He wanted nothing more than to put his hand under the hem and pull it up high until he got a good view of you bent over this very desk. He wanted to push you against the hardwood and pull your hair. He wanted to devour you in front of everyone, to lose himself in you and all that was good. Sebastian loosened his tie, the small material barely knotted as he tried to control his breath.

“That’s all there is to teach. By the end of class, I expect two adequate potions…the Amortentia and the cure from each table. You may begin.” Sharp directed as he made his way to his desk in the back of the room.

There was a wave of silence that crashed over the classroom as the students side-eyed each other. It would seem that no one had paid attention to Sharp’s well-planned and eloquent lecture on brewing love potions. The professor didn’t seem to give it any mind though, he was too involved with whatever he was writing. Sebastian couldn’t imagine that the man was clueless about the tension in the room though. Perhaps he was secretly amused that this situation of all things was the only way he was able to make the classroom stunned with silence.

“Would you be upset with me if I told you, I have no idea how to brew this potion,” Sebastian decided to tell Y/N outright. There was no point in pretending; she would see through him anyways if he tried.

She suppressed a chuckle in response as she stood up and pointed him in the direction of the board. “Not at all. Luckily for us, the instructions are on the board. Come on, let's get the ingredients.” She explained as she stood up and waved him over to follow her. He leaped out of his seat, quick and careless, almost like he was a dog who was taunted by the prospect of a treat. Thoughts of being alone with Y/N in the supply closet made his heart race to deadly rhythms and his palms slightly sweaty. He couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild with fantasies of what could transpire in such a small enclosed space.

The thought of your soft thighs wrapped around his waist while he got to have handfuls of your ass to keep you steady. Messy, hungry kisses that vibrated with moans. Your hands tussled in his hair or roaming up and down his chest. He could feel himself twitch every time he imagined you bouncing up and down against him, grinding him into pure bliss.

Merlin. Could he handle himself with such a temptation of being with you in such a place?

Each step he took across the classroom felt like an eternity, his body growing with anticipation that coursed through his veins like wildfire. His eyes were glued to the sway of your hips as you led the way.

When they finally reached the door, Sebastian fumbled with the handle, hands almost shaking as his mind was still lost in the realm of his fantasies. He could practically hear you screaming his name at this moment. The sound looped over and over again in his head, short-circuiting his brain until he was able to hear a click. The door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit space filled with shelves of potions ingredients, and other various supplies.

Sebastian stepped in behind you, trying to contain his desires while his body betrayed him, buzzing in hopeful anticipation of even just being grazed by you. A single touch would be enough to end his suffering at this point. The air felt heavy with scents of herbs that mixed in wonderfully with the smell of you, further fueling his senses.

“So…heaven you said.” Y/N awkwardly commented as she began to gather the required ingredients. Pulled out of his wicked daydreams Sebastian glanced at you with a raised eyebrow. “That is indeed what I said.”

“Are you ever going to elaborate on that?”

Sebastian stared at the shelves, trying to look lost. Shifting his weight back and forth as his hands skimmed the ingredients that were laid out in front of him. “Why so curious?”

“Well, I told you mine… it's only fair.”

“Have I ever been known to be fair?” Sebastian asked as he paused and looked down at you. You looked up at him sweetly, eyes big and bright, cheeks flushed, lips slightly apart. A tempting beautiful picture. He gulped down the need to jump you right then and there. A sad excuse for keeping his gentlemanly composure.

“Are you going to make me beg?” she asked softly.

Sebastian almost fainted. You? Begging him? Suddenly the thought of you on your knees in front of him flashed through his mind. He wondered just how he could make you beg. What filthy pleas could be heard from your lips? How desperate could you be for him? Was it anything like how he was for you now? He got lost in your beautiful eyes as he wondered.

“Would you beg for me?” his voice barely above a whisper as he asked her.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide, her cheeks turning into a deep shade of crimson. Sebastian watched as she stood there a mixture of what looked like mortification and vulnerability washing over her. As Sebastian took a step closer to her he saw how her blush intensified. Spreading like a delicate watercolor painting, the color seeped from her cheeks and extended to the tips of her ears…even down below under her blouse. He wondered how far her blush went.

“D-Don’t play with me, Sebastian,” Y/N replied as she tried to regain her composure. She faced the shelves once more, letting her hands touch anything that was in front of her.

“I would never.” He tried to follow her actions, hoping she didn’t notice how the last minute of their interaction would be the start of his dreams for the next month.

She scoffed at his response. “I know you’re just trying to deflect from the question. Why so secretive? Do you have a crush on someone and are just too embarrassed by it? You know I wouldn’t tell a soul.” she rambled as she picked up a mysterious vial. She looked at it as if she was more interested in the contents inside of it than the conversation but Sebastian could see through her act.

“Crush? I’m afraid it's gotten far past that.” Sebastian replied, freezing Y/N in her tracts if only for a moment. She placed the vial back in its rightful spot before reaching for another random object, much like Sebastian did in hopes of keeping him grounded in the situation. How far should he push this? Should he let the smell of this damned potion, the bottled intoxication of the girl in front of him, break down any walls he had built up in hopes that she would never know he was madly in love with her?

Their hands brushed against each other, sending a shock down to his toes that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The innocent act that was nothing but a soft caress, fanned the flames that were in him to dangerous heights, his yearning for her unbearable

“She’s bewitched me. Hexed me even…I’m sure of it.” He continued to say as he looked down at her. His hand frozen in his place against hers. If he moved now, there would be no grace in his actions. It was his last attempt at trying to keep himself composed.

He heard Y/N’s breath hitch in her throat.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked, giving her an escape but hoping she wouldn’t take it. She only nodded her head in response, unable to speak from the tension that’s now bubbled over in the small closet they were in.

“I smell the rain,” He began to say as he turned to face her.

“I smell fire” He took a step towards Y/N, closing the small gap.

“I smell incense.” His hands intertangled in yours, as he took a step forward, forcing you against the door, making sure no one could interrupt them. Your hands were well above you now as his fists pinned you in place.

“I smell you,” it barely came out as a whisper against the nape of your neck. “It’s all I can smell, even now. It suffocates me. Taunting me with ideas,” he continued, his voice low and dark. “Would you let me do those things to you?” He asked, moving his gaze so he could look at Y/N.

She looked like every fantasy he ever had of her. Under him, panting, wide-eyed, and flushed. He would keep this memory close to him, he knew instantly. Keep this image of her as nothing more than a self-indulgent treat for every night before he went to sleep.

“Is this when I should beg Seb?” Y/N let out in a single heavy breath.

He let out a groan at the sound of her nickname for him, his head falling to her shoulder so he could melt into her.

Fuck

Just hearing her say his name like that made his situation feel painful, making him harder than he ever had been in his entire life. He was scared to find out what would come of himself if he didn’t find a release soon.

“Do I have to beg to get my ingredients?” Ominis could be heard as he pounded on the door causing both Sebastian and Y/N to jump to the opposite side of the closet. Their friend walked into the small room, happy to be blind for once so that he didn’t have to see the sorry state the two were in.

“Congratulations on finding out you two are in fact in love with each other. The rest of the school has been waiting.” Ominis stated with annoyance. “Now can you grab me the things I need?”

[miniwrites1]

Unforgivable - Ominis Gaunt

Requested - ominis reacting to the reader being tortured with crucio

Word Count - 1653

Themes - Angst & Fluff

You walked with Ominis and Sebastian to charms class, discussing your upcoming N.E.W.T’s when Sebastian mentioned his plans for the evening.

“I need to gather some ingredients for potions class tomorrow, fancy exploring the forest a bit?” Sebastian asked. Ominis laughed, there was no way he would go into the forbidden forest during the day, let alone at night.

“You must be joking; I’m not going in there.” Ominis replied, shaking his head at the thought of it. Everyone knew that the forest was dangerous and that students were expressly forbidden to enter, that didn’t seem to bother Sebastian though.

You thought about the opportunity to explore the forbidden forest more, contemplating whether the risk of what lied within the forest was worth what you might get out of it.

“I’ll go with you.” You said confidently, certain that nothing was too much for you to handle. You’d fought spiders, trolls and dark wizards before, so you doubted there was anything in there that would be too much for you to handle. Ominis sighed, he didn’t want either of you to go into the forest, he’d seen you both come back damaged after your adventures there in fifth year.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us Ominis?” Sebastian asked. Ominis shook his head, letting out a disgruntled ‘no’. He knew that he couldn’t stop either of you from going, no matter how much he protested, you were both as stubborn as each other.

You left shortly after charms class, armed with wands and a small stash of wiggenweld just in case anything went wrong. You’d taken the quicker route to the forest, cutting across fields, trying to stay away from prying eyes of the nearby villages in case anyone attempted to report what you were doing to headmaster Black.

“What do you need for your potions?” You asked Sebastian in a hushed voice, not wanting to speak too loudly as to not alert anyone or anything that may be hiding nearby. Sebastian motioned to a cave just off the main path through the forest, explaining that the cave contained large amounts of Horklump which was essential for the potion. You rolled your eyes at Sebastian’s frugalness; you found his refusal to pay for potion ingredients slightly ridiculous.

The cave was vast, peppered with Horklump across the floor. Sebastian was right, it was a goldmine for potion ingredients. You watched on as Sebastian gathered his ingredients, taking his time to pick only the best from the bunch. You spent around an hour picking Horklump and another hour just exploring the cave. It brought memories back from your fifth year and how many caves you’d explored then.

As you were exiting the cave, something felt off. You weren’t sure what it was, whether it was the slight smell of burnt wood nearby or the eery silence that fell as you left, but the next thing you knew, you were flat on your back with your ears ringing, bright lights flashing in your eyes. The burning smell had intensified, was there a fire? You weren’t sure, but the next thing that you registered was Sebastian yelling your name in between casting multitudes of spells. Then everything went silent, you couldn’t hear Sebastian yelling anymore.

As your vision became less blurred, you turned your head towards the voices, catching a glimpse of Sebastian laid on the floor next to you. Poachers. You recognised them immediately. It seemed like you and Sebastian had stumbled across their camp as you’d approached the cave.

“She’s awake! Petrificus totalus!” One of the poachers yelled, casting the spell rendering you unable to move.  Where was Ominis when you needed him?

 Ominis stood by the main gate awaiting your return, it was now an hour past the time that you said you’d be back and he’d begun to worry. He regretted not pushing harder for you not to go into the forest but reminded himself that you were very stubborn, especially when it came to breaking the rules. He sighed, not willing to wait any longer for you and Sebastian. He started the long, dark walk to the forbidden forest with only his wand for guidance.

As he approached the forest, he heard faint yelling coming from inside the treeline. His brow furrowed; he couldn’t make out the words. He tried to shake off his nerves being this close to the forest at night, he truly despised the forest. He continued along the uneven path, walking quickly as to avoid any unwanted attention, but at he continued the yelling began to get louder. It sounded like spells being cast. His heartrate picked up, the last thing he wanted was to come across a fight.

Then he heard it, a pained scream. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“No! No! Please don’t!” He heard through the trees, heart sinking as he recognised your voice begging for mercy. He began running through the forest, trying to find you.

“Crucio!” He heard, followed by another pained scream which trailed off into a whimper. His stomach dropped; they were torturing you. Ominis grasped his wand tighter, running full speed now towards the sounds.

He stopped short of the cave where you and Sebastian had been, listening closely to what was being said.

“What do we do with them? They know were here!”

“They don’t leave here.”

Ominis felt like he was going to be sick, they were going to torture you to death. He knew he needed to do something. Gathering every ounce of courage that he had, he stepped out of the tree line just as another curse was cast. You let out another pained scream, tears streaming down your face, you wanted it to end, for the poachers to just be done with you.

“Expelliarmus!” Ominis yelled as he burst into the clearing at the mouth of the cave, taking the poachers by surprise. He cast of one spell after the next, using everything that he’d learnt in defence against the dark arts and his anger at them causing you harm until all of the poachers were unconscious or had ran away. He was breathing heavily, exhausted from the solo fight he’d just been through but quickly turned to you when he heard your pained groan.

“(Y/N), please don’t move, you’re hurt.” He spoke softly, kneeling down and cradling you in his lap. Your chest felt heavy from the pain but relief washed through you like a tidal wave, he’d come for you. Ominis looked over to where Sebastian lay as he heard a pained grunt, Sebastian sat up and held his head in his hands.

“We need to get you both to Madam Blainey. Now.” Ominis stated firmly, brushing the hair out of your mud streaked, tear-stained face. Seeing you like this broke his heart, he would kill every single one of the poachers for what they’d done to you.

“When did you get here?” Sebastian asked. Ominis glared at him, silencing him immediately.

Sebastian pushed himself up from the ground, his body aching after the lost fight and scanned his surroundings, noticing Ominis cradling you in his arms. Sebastian’s face fell, you’d been hurt badly.

“What happened?” Sebastian asked concerned. You were shivering in Ominis’ arms.

“They cast the cruciatus curse on her repeatedly, she begged them Sebastian, begged for mercy and they gave her none.”  Ominis stated solemnly, feeling a tear escape. He quickly wiped it away with his sleeve before picking you up in his arms, the wince you made as he stood made his heart shatter.

The walk back to Hogwarts was silent, aside from an occasional groan from you when Ominis stepped heavily. You remained in his arms until he placed you on the bed in the hospital wing, Madam Blainey worriedly rushing over to you and casting multiple healing spells. Ominis wouldn’t leave your side until you were awake and coherent again, flat out refusing Madam Blainey and Professor Weasley’s requests for him to let you rest.

He sat by your bedside until the next afternoon, watching over you until you woke up. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in your surroundings. Your eyes scanned the room, you were in the hospital wing and someone was holding your hand. You turned your head slightly to see who it was.

“Ominis?” You spoke softly, Ominis’s head snapped towards you.

“You’re awake!” He almost yelled, immediately grabbing Madam Blainey’s attention. All Ominis wanted to do was hold you, to him he’d nearly lost you, a thought that he couldn’t bear.

“Mr Gaunt, need I remind you that I have other patients who are resting?” Madam Blainey scolded Ominis, making you smile slightly. You noticed that he was still holding your hand, you squeezed slightly, not wanting him to let go. He glanced back to you.

“I apologise Madam Blainey.” Ominis said sheepishly, not wanting to be removed from the hospital wing. Madam Blainey huffed checked you over.

“Coherent, awake, are you in any pain?” Madam Blainey asked. You shook your head, it was only a small lie.

“Very well, (Y/L/N) you may return to your common room. Mr Gaunt will escort you back.” And with that she walked away from the bed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m never trusting Sebastian on one of his adventures again.” You laughed as you pushed yourself up from the bed with one hand, the other still firmly held by Ominis. Ominis helped you pull yourself out of bed and walked with you back to your common room. As you were about to enter, Ominis pulled you back and into a hug which you gladly returned. He never wanted to let you go.

A/N - Friends to lovers anyone??

[uhohwhathaveidone]

If it’s possible can I request a Sebastian x Reader one where for Potions class they were told they will make Amortentia and everyone is going crazy thinking what they will smell. Just the pining between the two only for them to realize that yeah they like eachother? Please and thank you, hope you have a great rest of your day!

I've brewed you a potion!

Brewed Crush (S.S)

pt2 Tainted Crush

The idea of Amortentia sounds terrifying tbh. Remember how Ron acted to the love potion meant for Harry? Terrifying. Anyway, these two are so oblivious it hurts, I hope you enjoy! It's not as long, but i still hope it reaches your expectations. Sharp is a little shit in this too, he likes to see his students embarrass themselves.

You walked beside Sebastian down the hall, chatting about random little things. You had Potions next, and while you were always eager for a chance to mix ingredients and create things, word was that you would be working on a particularly dangerous potion, but that’s all anyone could say. Initially that would be exciting, but knowing you and Sebastian, you would probably mess it some and maybe even blow up the whole classroom. You shuddered at the thought. Sebastian, on the other hand, was incredibly excited about the idea of working with a dangerous potion, and he had racked his brain trying to figure out what kind they would be working with. “What if it’s a poison?” He asked, brows raised in excitement. You scoffed, shaking your head. “Why would they teach us how to make poison?” Sebastian shrugged, “I don’t know. It sounds like something they would teach us!” You let out a laugh as you turned the corner, meeting Ominis, who nearly ran into you.

“Ominis! You just returned from Potions, right?” Sebastian asked, pulling the two of you to the side. You studied Ominis, his face red and brows furrowed. He didn’t respond to Sebastian at first, and bit his lip. “Well?” Sebastian pestered, crossing his arms. “We talked about love potions.” Ominis said quietly. You stifled a laugh as you realized that Ominis was flustered, no doubt from whatever love potion they talked about. Sebastian, on the other hand, dropped his arms in disbelief, eyes wide. “Love potion?” Ominis nodded. You tilted your head, knowing that there were many forms of love potion out there. “What kind?” You asked, and Ominis looked in your direction, tightlipped. “The bad kind.” And with that, he walked away.

“It can’t be that bad.” Sebastian said as he walked through the door of the classroom. You nodded in response, thinking about what kind of love potion Ominis was talking about, when you bumped into Sebastian’s back. “Hey, come on now.” You huffed, trying to squeeze by him. Sebastian had frozen in place, staring at the board, staring at the words written on it. You made it past him and followed his gaze, eyes widening as you also read the board. Amortentia, the love potion that smells like what, or who, you desired most, and was considered one of the most dangerous love potions in existence. You shuddered, fear getting caught in your throat. “Let’s hurry to our seats before we get trampled.” You suggested grabbing Sebastian’s arm and pulling him to the seat you usually sat at. Sebastian looked at you, puzzled. “Isn’t that the potion that’s supposed to smell nice?” You nodded your head, “It’s supposed to smell like the thing you desire most.” Sebastian’s eyes widened and felt heat rise to his cheeks.

The two of you sat, watching as students poured into the classroom, chattering loudly as they saw the potion on the board. You swore you heard one of the girls shriek slightly when her friend told her what kind of potion was, and you mentally prepared yourself. Professor Sharp walked in soon after, eyeing some of the students as they chattered. His gaze found your own, and you could have sworn he smirked. He motioned for everyone to open their books, turning to the chapter about love potions.

“As you see on the board, today we will be working with Amortentia, a very strong love potion.” Sharp began, holding the book and walking to stand in front of his desk. “I want to express the dangers of this potion before we go and create it, and I will be checking each of you before you leave, if you decide to keep some for whatever nefarious reason.” You watched as the girl from earlier seemed to deflate, hanging her head low. You smiled slightly, nudging Sebastian. “It seems like someone wanted to keep a bit for herself.” You whispered, smiling up at him. His face hadn’t lost the red tint from when he walked into the classroom, and his eyes still seemed a little wide. You shook your head and turned back to Sharp, who had begun to go through the specific dangers of the potion. “Just so we are all aware, this potion does not make someone actually fall in love. The victim only feels the attachment, not the real feelings, which is what makes this potion so dangerous. You are lucky I’m sharing this with you today, but many of the ingredients are forbidden to collect, which means that this will be the only time you will be able to make this.” Sharp continued, and you sighed in relief hearing that news, glad that you would be safe if anyone ever wanted to use it on you.

Ten minutes of lecturing later and Sharp had begun to distribute the ingredients needed for the potion, also noting how much he gave each of you in case someone decided to take the rest of the ingredients. You nudged Sebastian, pointing to his cauldron. “So, what are you going to smell?” You asked, smirking. Sebastian stuttered as his cheeks became hotter, only to get out “uh, apple tart, of course!” You raised an eyebrow, “You’re attracted to the smell of apple tarts?” Sebastian nodded quickly, turning the conversation around. “What’s yours going to smell like then?” You bit the inside of your lip, knowing that you had no idea what it would smell like, except that it would more than likely be connected to Sebastian. “Probably marshmallows.” “Marshmallows?” “They’re tasty!”

You glared at the page, trying to figure out the instructions. The measurements seemed strange and unproportioned, and you began to think that you had it wrong. Turning to Sebastian, who had his tongue out in concentration, you looked at his instructions. “Do these measurements seem right to you?” You asked, watching as he places an odd amount of a green fern into the cauldron. He didn’t respond, deep in concentration still, and you shrugged, grabbing at his parchment. “Hey, I need that!” He said, looking down and finding the page gone. You compared the two pages, which were identical, sighing. “It doesn’t feel right. These measurements are way too uncontrolled.” You stated, handing the page back to Sebastian. He shook his head, tracing his finger back to where he left off. “You won’t blow anything up, it's fine.” You shook your head in annoyance and went back to placing ingredients into the pot.

You watched as the potion began to make steam, which swirled around the top of the cauldron and seemed to shine. You looked over at Sebastian to see how he was doing, watching him stir his potion one final time. You began to worry, afraid to get too close to the pot in case it had started to let off fumes. Which it did, of course. You were hit with the scent of burning cinders and wood chips, mixed with salted caramel filled your lungs. Your face warmed up instantly, and you recognized the scent. It smelled just like Sebastian. You looked around, looking to see if anyone else could smell your potion, praying that it only smelled that way for you. Your cheeks heated up even more as the warm scent filled your senses, and you glanced over at Sebastian.

He wasn’t having the best time either. As soon as he finished stirring the pot, he was hit with a big wave of vanilla and lavender, a scent he had smelled many times before. It was what you smelled like, and there was a hint of marshmallow; you had said they were good. He sat there, wondering if his face could even heat up more than it already had, knowing that the potion knew exactly what he felt. He liked you, of course, but he didn’t think he liked you that much. Ominis had teased him a bit about how Sebastian “Most definitely had a crush” on you, but the love potion was basically screaming out that he was in love, and he shook his head and looked around. Everyone had finished their potions, and Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief as he began to pack his things up, ready to escape before you asked him about his potion.

Professor Sharp had other ideas. “Now that you have created your potion, why don’t we tell everyone what we smell?” He had a sly smirk on his lips, seemingly like his whole plan was to embarrass his students that day. You looked over at Sebastian and shared a wide-eyed stare, fear written on both your faces. Sharp started at the row closest to him, motioning for someone to start. You felt your hands clam up, noticing that you were sat in the center, both a curse and a blessing. You wrung your hands anxiously as Sharp got closer, walking up to the students on the outer edge of your row. Sebastian would go before you, and he knew it. You could practically see the sweat on his forehead as his eyes followed Sharp, sucking in a breath when he stood before him. “Mr. Sallow. Do tell us what you smell.” Sebastian looked around, noticing all the eyes trained to him. “Uh, vanilla, sir, and lavender.” Sharp raised an eyebrow, knowing that Sebastian had another scent in the pot. Sebastian looked down at the pot, “and marshmallow.” Sharp watched Sebastian with a smirk and looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You took a breath in, “I smell… wood chips…burning cinder…and salted caramel.” Sharp’s smile grew, “That is quite the combination.” He walked to the next student, and you and Sebastian released the breath you had both been holding. You glanced at Sebastian, cheeks warm, hoping he didn’t know that he smelled like that.

The two of you walked out of the classroom and quietly made your way to the dining hall for lunch. You awkwardly walked beside Sebastian, trying to cool off after what could only have been the most embarrassing moment of your life. Sebastian was deep in thought, trying to figure out where he had heard salted caramel before. He could faintly remember you telling him one day that he smelled like it, and had even asked if he was carrying any, which he was. His thoughts began to run faster than he could keep up, and he pulled you to the side. Surprised, you looked up at him. “Your potion, who was it about?” He asked quickly, trying to wrap his head around the fact that perhaps your potions were for each other. Your cheeks heated up again, and you looked down at your feet. Quietly, you responded, “It smelled like you.” Sebastian barely heard you speak, only catching what sounded like the word “you.” “Did you say me?” Sebastian began to smile, watching as you nodded. He grabbed your shoulders, making you look at him. “That’s…that’s great!” You looked at him, confused. “My potion… it was… it smelled like you too.” He smiled shyly as his cheeks heated up to match your own. “We had each other?” “Yeah!”

Once the two of you had gone through the process of properly confessing your feelings for each other, the two of you walked to the dining hall, a new goal in mind. What did Ominis smell.

[raven-awed]

What He Noticed First

Ominis Gaunt x fem reader/MC

Fluff/angst

Summary: Ominis finds himself dealing with a lot of complicated feelings, especially when he realizes he has a crush on the new fifth year.

A/n: This started out as a cute fluffy idea but turns a little angsty. I’m thinking about writing a second part.

*not my picture

Vanilla, Ominis noted to himself about the new fifth year student. She smelled like vanilla. He wasn’t sure if it was her shampoo, perfume, or lotion, but every time she shifted or moved in her seat next to him the sweet smell of vanilla floated in the air.

Professor Ronen asked a question while Ominis was lost in thought, but y/n’s hand shot up in the air, answering the professor’s question with a soft and delicate voice.

“Excellent,” the Charms professor applauded before diving further into his lecture.

During class, Ominis made several other observations about y/n, other than her enticing scent, she was bright, eager to learn, and quick with occasional witty comments that she’d whisper to him or the student sitting at her other side.

“And that concludes our lesson,” Professor Ronen announced.

Ominis furrowed his brow, class had seemed to go by in a blur. Had he really been so fixated on the new girl that he hadn’t hardly heard a single thing Professor Ronen had said.

“See you next charms class,” y/n said to him as she rose from her seat.

“Yeah,” Ominis replied, still slightly dazed. “Goodbye.”

Even as she left the classroom, the sweet scent of vanilla lingered near him. Without much hurry, he gathered his things and took out his wand leaving with the rest of the stragglers to his next class.

Over the past several weeks, he had become better acquainted with y/n. He began to recognize her by other little details than just the way she smelled, like by the rhythm of her walking or the sound of her quietly humming to herself as she explored the castle.

When the opportunity would present itself, he sought out reasons to chat with her, even for simple things like discussing homework and how she was adjusting to Hogwarts.

He eventually learned more about her and her life, although he had remained reserved about sharing about himself. He’d rather listen to her talk anyways, than drudge up any unpleasantness.

It didn’t take long before Ominis began to associate anything made with vanilla with y/n. He’d be in Honey Dukes or in the great hall and smell something similar and a small smile would form on his face without fail.

He hadn’t really noticed himself until Sebastian had pointed it out at Hogsmeade. Fortunately, Sebastian hadn’t made the full connection, but seemed utterly bewildered over Ominis smiling over cakes.

At first, Ominis didn’t really think much of it, so what if he smiled everytime he smelled vanilla or that he’d feel a little flutter in his gut when he she’d walk into the room. She was his new friend, that was it… He denied to himself that it was anything else.

It wasn’t until one day in potions when he was faced with tangible evidence. He could hear all the girls giggling and buzzing with excitement as Professor Sharpe wrote on the chalkboard.

Sebastian groaned, “What a waste of time.”

“What is it?” Ominis quietly asked him.

“Apparently, we’re learning about-“

“Amortentia,” Professor Sharpe stated flatly, obviously not excited about the day’s lesson either. “A powerful love potion, and while we will not be brewing any in class, it is important to learn about its features and effects, if only to not become a recipient of its effects.”

Professor Sharpe moved to a potion station at the front of the class and asked all the students to gather around. “Amortentia induces the recipient to become infatuated or even obsessed, which could lead to some rather dangerous outcomes.”

The potions professor lifted the lid of the cauldron, “Amortentia smells differently to each person, particularly things that each individual is attracted to.”

Ominis stumbled forward a bit as the other students closed in closer to the cauldron. Standing almost in front of it now, all he could smell was vanilla, it was overwhelming to all his other senses, almost as if he was floating in a sea of it. Ominis bit his bottom lip tightly, his teeth digging into his skin as he realized why.

Finally, Professor Sharpe replaced the lid and Ominis felt like he could breathe again. His shoulders slumped as he stood there.

“You alright?” Sebastian pressed. “Look like you might throw up.

“I-I’m fine,” Ominis said, rubbing his face. “Think I’m just tired.”

Once class was dismissed, Ominis fled to the Slytherin common room. He flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. How was he supposed to act around y/n now?

As the evening approached, Ominis remained in bed, afraid to go downstairs to the great hall, in case he’d run into y/n.

Dread filled him at the thought. He was suddenly self conscious about everything, what if said the wrong thing, or worse, what if y/n figured out how he felt and rejected him?

Eventually, he fell asleep still dressed in his uniform. It wasn’t a restful sleep, he woke in the morning cranky and irritable. He still had no solution for his crush problem other than avoiding y/n as much as possible.

He was the last one to leave the common room, he was hoping most people by now were done with breakfast, so he could at least eat in peace.

As expected, he wasn’t greeted by the usual noise and chatter, just a few students finishing their meals before heading for class. Sitting alone at the far end of the Slytherin table, Ominis served himself toast and a glass of pumpkin juice.

He stilled midbite as he heard footsteps approach.

“Relax,” Sebastian yawned, sitting next to Ominis. “It’s just me.”

“You slept in rather late,” Ominis commented, swallowing. “What were you up to last night?” He raised a brow, waiting for his friend’s reply.

“Nothing,” Sebastian shrugged.

Ominis frowned at Sebastian, they had been friends long enough for him to know that it was not nothing.

“I was just exploring the Restricted Section,” he admitted.

“Again? Are you trying to get expelled?”

“I’m not going to get expelled,” Sebastian sighed, playing with his food.

They parted ways after breakfast, heading to their respective morning classes. Being a few minutes late served Ominis well, he slipped in quietly and took an empty seat in the back row.

Typically, he sat near the front with y/n right beside him, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to act normally around her. Still, even sitting far from her, his stomach still flipped every time she spoke up to answer a question or giggle with whoever she was next to her.

He always assumed people were exaggerating when they spoke of infatuation and love. But this ache in his chest was practically indescribable. He yearned to be near her while simultaneously feeling nauseous at the thought of being close to her.

How does anyone handle feelings like these with any poise?

He recalled all the times he chuckled at the misery of others. Listening to other poor souls stumbling over their words or saying foolish things or behaving awkwardly simply because they were in the presence of someone they liked.

Now he was just another one of those bumbling idiots, but worse, he was too scared to even talk to her anymore. He felt like a coward.

When class ended, he tried to leave first. As he walked through the threshold, he could hear y/n calling after him and rushing towards him.

On one hand, he loved hearing her call his name, but he was also struck with anxiety, his palms already beginning sweating as he tried to walk faster.

“Hey,” she said, having caught up to him. “Are you alright?”

Ominis could hear the concern in her voice, he felt like he could melt on the spot, especially as she tugged on the sleeve of his robe to get him to stop and talk to her.

“I’m fine,” he answered sharper than he had meant to.

“Are you sure?” She pressed. “Sebastian said you weren’t feeling well yesterday and I didn’t see you this morning at breakfast.”

Ominis lowered his brow, “When did you and Sebastian talk?”

“Last night,” she answered in a small voice, while his voice rose.

“When, last night?”

“I really shouldn’t say more,” y/n replied softly. “I just.. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His jaw clenched tightly, how had it escaped his attention how close you and Sebastian had become, and why did it bother him so much?

He wasn’t stupid, this meant you and Sebastian had been in the Restricted Section, together, for some reason unknown to him.

Ominis sighed, his body relaxing a bit, “I’m fine y/n, really I am. I appreciate your concern.”

“I’ll see you later?” She asked.

Ominis nodded.

A couple of days passed, uneventfully for Ominis and the other students. Y/n seemed quite busy as of late, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was easier to avoid her if she wasn’t around, but it felt like ages since he had last spoken to her.

It was late at night and Ominis found himself unable to sleep. Thoughts of y/n and his troubles plagued him as he explored the quiet and empty halls of Hogwarts.

Despite his worries, he figured it would be best to get everything out in the open and go ahead and tell her how he felt. He simply needed to find the right time and place. And just like that the right place came to mind, The Undercroft.

It would provide the privacy that he desperately needed in order to make his confession. Even with Hogwarts being as vast as it is, there weren’t many places one could find absolute privacy, always a student or ghost coming in and out at all hours of the day. But in the Undercroft, they could be alone.

Without thinking, he started walking towards the hidden entrance. It had been some time since he had last gone down there.

His mind was already envisioning what he’d like to do or what he could do. The Undercroft wasn’t exactly the coziest place, but there were a few things he could do to make it more comfortable: more lights, maybe a few chairs or a blanket. He could even plan a little picnic or something.

He groaned to himself, “That might be a little too much.”

As Ominis approached the secret passage, he heard the distinct sounds of the gears twisting and passage opening as someone came out.

“Hello Sebastian,” He greeted, but quickly realized his mistake. “Wait.”

The familiar sweet scent of vanilla hung in the air giving y/n away. “Y/n?” He questioned, listening closely.

“Hello Ominis, I-“

“Did Sebastian bring you here?” He snapped, unable to disguise his anger or hurt.

“I won’t say a word about The Undercroft to anyone, I swear,” she pleaded.

“That’s not- That’s not the issue,” he murmured defeatedly. “Everything is ruined.”

He had wanted to be the one to show her, it was his secret afterall. And he feared that y/n and Sebastian were becoming something more than just friends.

Why else would Sebastian share such an important secret with her? Or help her sneak into the library?

He didn’t want to have to compete with oldest and dearest friend, and even if he did, he already felt like he had lost the battle. Ominis hated having all these conflicting emotions, especially the jealousy that he was currently overwhelmed by.

It didn’t seem fair. In a blink of an eye, Sebastian had seemingly won y/n over, even if both of him and her didn’t see it like that, yet, but to Ominis it was inevitable that they’d fall for each other.

“Ominis,” y/n spoke gently. “What’s ruined?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head.

Without saying another word, Ominis retreated alone back to the common room.

[stanathanxoox]

Our Babies

“Our babies would be so cute.”

“Oh, yeah?” - Ominis Gaunt x MC

You had just escaped from the hospital wing, your boyfriend helping to escort you there when you had began to feel incredibly nauseous and dizzy during potions class with Professor Sharp. Matron Blainely had insisted that you spent the rest of the day in the hospital wing until whatever ails you passed, having sent Ominis back to class straight after he was sure you were settled. Matron Blainely had run some tests throughout the afternoon and come to only one conclusion, one that you should’ve probably suspected given your most recent turn in your relationship with your boyfriend. You made your way through the door into the room of requirement, having sent Ominis an owl when you were being released from the hospital wing for him to meet you there. You settled on the couch having noticed that he hadn’t arrived yet. Deek appeared a couple minutes later and bowed in front of you saying

“I have a plate full of plain crackers and some soup at Matron Blainely’s request for you Miss Y/N, she said that given your certain situation at the moment you may not feel like eating what is being served for dinner in the Great hall”. You take it gratefully, and chew slowly on the crackers

“Thank you Deek, I appreciate it greatly. Do you mind giving me and Ominis some space while I tell him?” you ask and Deek nods, taking your hand in his small one before he says

“Mr Gaunt has been worried sick about you all day Miss Y/N, kept on calling me to see if I knew any more about your condition. I’m sure he will be positively thrilled to hear your news”. And with that theres a poof and Deek is gone.

You don’t have time to even think or dwell on what Deek had just said to you because the door cracks open and you hear the worried voice of your boyfriend call out

“Y/N? Are you in here? I got your owl and came as quickly as I could” he says as he rushes into the room. You stand and make your way over to him, suddenly very nervous about the whole situation. You had known right from the beginning of your friendship with Ominis that he didn’t care much for his family or for what they had done and how much he wanted to escape. How much after this last year of school he wanted to leave and never return to his families home ever again. You hadn’t really talked about children apart from that if you had them they weren’t to be anything like his family. But you couldn’t help but worry what would happen given that you were both unmarried and - you couldn’t think of that. Your hands are ringing together, a sign of how anxious and nervous you are, something that even though Ominis can’t see he can still pick up

“My sweet Y/N, what is wrong?” he asks, placing his hands gently on your arms to reassure you

“Our babies would be so cute” you say, blurting the first thing that comes to your mind, another anxious trait you had. He raises an eyebrow even more confused as he asks

“Oh yeah?” and you nod your head before gently taking his hands and placing them on the slight bump that is your growing baby. You watch the different expressions flicker across his face, from shock, astonishment and wonder, to happiness and excitement

“Are you serious right now?” he asks, his voice a whisper and you nod leaning in and whispering

“Yes Ominis, we’re having a baby, Blainely thinks I’m about 12 and a half weeks pregnant” 

“We’re having a baby” he whispers before pressing a kiss to your lips and you smile

“Ominis, what does this mean for us and the baby?” you ask and he places a kiss to your forehead

“We have two months left till graduation my sweet girl, and then we can marry and raise this baby  together” he declares as if it was the surest thing in the whole world.

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods

“Of course I’m sure my sweet girl, a life without you in it just doesn’t seem worth living and now that I know we’re having our own precious little one well that’s even more reason for us to be together don’t you think sweet girl?” he asks and you nod, as tears slip down your face

“I love you Ominis” you whisper and he beams. 

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi​, @jimmybpride​, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​, @nikkiwierden​, @samchelforever007​, @kirkspockbones​, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox​, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love​, @haliannej​, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​​, @mizzezm​, @genius2050​, @twilight-twihard​, @cullencoven2019​, @wxlfgirlx​, @luciferxchloeislove​, @drethanramsey-ismybabe​, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine​, @loverofoneshots​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​

[accio-bagel]

Herbology and Potions = favorite day of the week

(Redraw of this)

[enweasley]

would it be a good idea to write a fanfiction about my own character in hogwarts legacy? He's a weasley (duh doi) - Finn Weasley. i think it would be cool to write a reader insert about him (cuz holy smokes im falling for him) and base imagines off the hogwarts legacy plot but i dont wanna do it if people arent gonna be interested

lmk :)

ps - i have a bunch of gif ideas for him omg

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Some Like It Sharp

You and professor Sharp became very close after the events of your fifth year at Hogwarts. Just how close is unspoken for a long time. Until it isn't.

I know I should be writing father Paul, but I started playing Hogwarts Legacy and became a little addicted. And then I went to potions class. I saw professor Sharp, in all his limping scarred glory and immediately thought 'Oh. Oh no...' And that was that.

EDIT: I MANAGED TO ADD SOME VOICELINES ON AO3

tw: age difference (reader is 17-18, which is of age in the wizarding world), student-teacher relationship, mentions of trauma (emotional and physical)

Some Like It Sharp 

(8.6k words)

You sighed deeply as your brow furrowed in concentration. Six finely crushed snake fangs soon disappeared in your cauldron. Momentarily, you lifted your eyes and gazed longingly at the person across the room from you. Professor Aesop Sharp was sitting at his round desk, a quill in his hand and a stack of third years’ essays in front of him. Every now and then, you could hear him utter a soft ‘tsk’, his dark hair bouncing as he shook his head. Even in his annoyance he was beautiful, you thought. Despite being a Slytherin, he reminded you of a lion, so strong and proud, not even his obvious limp was able to tarnish the image.

“Miss (L/N).” sounded right next to your ear, making you jump and turn your head towards the voice. Your wide startled eyes connected with professor Sharp’s own intense dark orbs. ‘When did he move?’ you thought, your heart in your throat.

“Miss, (L/N), I believe I asked you to brew a cure for boils. However, whatever concoction is currently in your cauldron looks more like it would cause them. Care to explain yourself?”

You hurriedly looked down at your cauldron and discovered the potion master was right. Instead of the orange hue the potion should have at this stage, it was a rather distasteful shade of swamp green. ‘How could this have happened?’

“Sir,” you began meekly, “I’m sorry, I don't know-... I think I got-”

“Distracted?” asked professor Sharp matter of factly, his voice lacking any sort of the annoyance it’d usually have. “Do tell, Miss (L/N),” he started circling around you like a predator, his lame leg not making the motion any less intimidating, “do you feel like my classes are so boring, or so easy, perhaps, that you can afford to daydream while ruining a first year potion?” 

Your eyes hadn't left him for a second. You shivered involuntarily. You were the only person in the classroom. ‘When did everyone leave?’ “No, sir, I- O-of course not, I-?”

A single long digit pressed against your slightly open mouth, effectively cutting your eloquent speech short. Sharp stood in front of you now, and you felt your cheeks turning red. You exhaled shakily. “Daydreaming in my class… I don’t think detention is enough of a punishment. Do you?” Sharp practically purred into your ear, his acute words said in an almost teasing manner. He was so close now, so close you felt his hot breath on your neck as he spoke, his forefinger replaced by his thumb on your mouth, and he pulled the lower lip down, opening your mouth further.

You couldn't speak, only able to stare at his mouth as he pulled back slightly to look at you. A small smile appeared on his face and he finally moved forward, sealing his mouth over your own and immediately pushing his tongue inside. You gasped, but almost right away threw your hands around his neck and succumbed to his bruising kiss.

“(F/N),” he sighed once you had to part for breath. You smiled at him and wanted to connect your lips once more. Only then -

“(F/N)! Come on, wake up, we’re going to be late for Transfiguration!” you heard someone call out.

“What?” you asked and looked around. You weren’t in the potions classroom, nor were you standing in professor Sharp’s embrace. You weren’t standing at all, actually. Your dormitory’s light blue walls appeared before your eyes, as well as an annoyed face of Samantha Dale.

—

"You are so lucky I forgot my homework upstairs!" panted Samantha, "Otherwise I would have gone straight to class after breakfast. And you'd still be asleep." You were pretty much running, not wanting to be late for professor's Weasley's class, yet you casted a grateful smile in Samantha's direction: "You are a lifesaver, Sam."

Samantha kept rambling on, as she usually did, but your mind was still focused on your dream.

You and professor Sharp had gotten particularly close during the past year and a half. Ever since your last battle with Ranrok, the potions master treated you a little differently. Most of the professors did, of course, but you found a sense of peace with Sharp especially. 

You missed professor Fig every day. He was something of a father figure for you nearly from day one, and you felt all sorts of broken watching him die in your arms. 

The first time professor Sharp invited you into his office outside of class, you felt strangely numb still, your exhaustion and grief leaving you with what felt like a hole in your heart. Some of the other professors sat you down before them previously, and you forced yourself to fake a little smile and persuade them that you were alright.

It didn’t work on Sharp. He didn’t pry, didn’t force you to relive the painful memories as you thought he would. Instead his chatter was nearly light, talking about your school work, hobbies, the various activities outside of the castle, even talking about himself every once in a while. Soon you realised you found solace in your conversations.

Only when you were given time to heal did you dare to actually talk about what happened that day… That year, really. Professor Sharp listened quietly, never pressing for details you weren’t ready to give, only asking for further explanation sometimes.

—

The first time you broke down in tears before him, he stood to limp over to you. With a steady warm hand on your shoulder, he conjured up a handkerchief and pressed it into your palm. You thanked him and tried to get yourself under control once more. He didn’t say anything, only drew small circles into your shoulder with his thumb.

After you left his office that evening, you realised just how hungry you were. It hit you by surprise, really, you hadn’t felt this hungry since that fateful day. You’d eat when it was meal time, but all food tasted the same to you. This evening, however, when you put some chicken with rice on your plate, you tasted every single spice used, the meat falling apart on your tongue. You groaned audibly and let your eyes close.

“Heh, good to see you getting your appetite back!” said Amit across from you, a sweet smile on his face. Your cheeks a little red in embarrassment, you smiled back at him before diving into your meal once more.

It struck you later that night as you were lying in your bed, staring into the darkness. Sharp knew exactly how to help you, because he knew what you were likely going through. All of the professors had their stories, some of them experienced loss as well, but only Sharp had ever gone through something as traumatic as yourself. Maybe he behaved towards you the way he would’ve wished someone behaved towards him before, back when his partner died on the job and he barely escaped with his life.

—

The next evening, you were back in his office. He accepted you wordlessly, curiously peeking at a small bag you brought with you. Inside of it were various rare ingredients you collected on your adventures or harvested in the Room of Requirement. The potions master took them with a quiet ‘thank you’ and that was that. He didn’t ask where you got them and how, knowing that as your teacher, he might not like your answer. But he was grateful, you knew. It didn’t need to be spoken in order to be understood.

Back when you first met him, you understood why some may find him intimidating, why he rubs them the wrong way. Sharp was strict, with a no-nonsense kind of attitude. He was hard on his students, and when he saw potential in them, he was even harder, striving for perfection. But the more time you spent with him, the more you saw the undeniable kindness within him. As cutting as his critique could be, his praises filled you with a great sense of pride and accomplishment. They pushed you to try even harder, to make him proud. 

Little by little, it began to make no sense to you why some students found him evil, or even outright foul. Professor Sharp was anything but evil and foul.

In a way, you expected him to become a parental figure to you as well, like professor Fig was. Only, he didn’t. It frightened you the first time you looked at him and caught yourself thinking that you’d like to press your palm against his cheek, feel his prickly looking stubble, trace the scar on his face. “Something the matter, miss (L/N)?” he asked with a lifted brow. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you hurriedly looked away, an apology leaving your mouth.

—

It got worse after that. You enjoyed spending time with him too much. You found he had a dark, dry sense of humour, that his wit was quicker than lightning and sharper than a knife, but also that he possessed a certain gentleness. You noticed his eyes would linger on your fondly when he thought you weren’t looking. It always made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You knew that he liked to draw, having been in his private chambers when you were searching for those blasted demiguise statues (not that you’d ever tell him), but having him actually showing them to you felt strangely intimate. The passage through his fireplace you had to crawl through turned into a large doorway after he tapped it with the tip of his wand. He said he can’t always make it upstairs if the pain in his leg is too much, but he nevertheless enjoyed spending time there. You were fairly certain you were the first person he showed his work to. 

You saw a few drawings you didn’t recognise, as you hadn’t been to his chambers since - it was mostly parts of Hogwarts, a few scribbles of Hogsmeade as well. However, there was also a number of various paintings of beasts, hippogriffs, graphorns and such.  You smiled when he showed you, already knowing you wouldn’t be meeting in his chambers the next time.

—

His curiosity was obviously peaked, as he accepted your request to wait for you in the seventh floor corridor, by the troll tapestry. You winced slightly when you saw him leaning against the wall, the stairs obviously not doing anything for his leg. Yet, when he acknowledged your presence, you offered him a reassuring smile, hoping what you were about to show him would make it up to him.

He watched you pace three times in front of the tapestry, his brow raised in question. You grinned when his dark eyes widened at the sight of a door materialising seemingly out of nowhere. You opened it and entered. “Come in, sir,” you said, turning to face him. He hobbled over, his right hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for his wand. Always vigilant.

With no small amount of satisfaction, you watched as his mouth opened in surprise of your Room of Requirement, eyes trying to take in as much as they could, utterly disbelieving. His gaze was caught by a large potion station on one side of the room, directly next to a herbology table, where your various magical plants were currently being watered.

“Ah, you’re back,” came a high pitched voice from somewhere, “Deek thinks it’s almost time to harvest the mandrakes- oh, professor Sharp!” Without looking at the house elf, still busy taking in the room, the potions master offered a small ‘Hello, Deek.’

“I will see to it. Deek, can I ask you a favour?” you smiled at him reassuringly. He replied with a smile of his own: “Of course. What can Deek do for you?” “Could you perhaps bring us some tea later? First there is something I want to show to the professor.” With a nod and a snap on his fingers, Deek was gone. 

“What is this place?” asked professor Sharp, finally looking at you. “The Room of Requirement,” you replied simply, “professor Weasley showed it to me last year and urged me to use it how I see fit, mostly to aid me in my studies. Come sir, please, I do want to show you something.” 

You lead the teacher up one of the staircases towards the swamp vivarium. You entered, with Sharp following close behind, slightly apprehensive at the feeling of wetness underneath his boots. This time you couldn’t conceal your chuckle as his jaw once again dropped. Your thestral friends noticed your arrival and immediately set on to welcome you. You laughed gently as the baby thestral nudged at your hand with its little skeletal beak, craving your loving touch.

With a few flicks of your wand, you brushed the animals and replenished their automatic feeder, all the while still stroking the little thestral’s head. Sepulchria, its mother, meanwhile took interest in professor Sharp, sniffing at him warily before deciding he posed no danger to her offspring. 

Almost like on its own accord, Sharp’s hand travelled up to touch the mare, his calloused fingers coming to rest on her neck. “This is incredible,” he breathed out, as he caressed the creature’s glossy skin. 

“When I was first able to see them, I found them a little frightening,” you admitted, conjuring a bench for the two of you to sit down on, the little one’s head immediately coming to rest on your lap, “it was right after the dragon attack, when I saw Mr Osric…” You got quiet. Professor Sharp sat next to you. Sepulchria and her mate, a male thestral you named Phobos, settled into the moist grass nearby, seeming perfectly happy to hang around while you and your teacher talked. Their offspring, Juno flapped its wings contentedly, leaning into your hand.

“Of course, I quickly learned of their good qualities,” you continued, forcing your tone to be light. “It was only after… After professor Fig died… that I found real comfort in them. They are amazing creatures, so gentle. In a way, I feel like they are exactly what a person needs to see, when they… when they watch somebody die.”

As per usual, Sharp let you speak, giving you time to gather your wits about you, think over the words you were going to say. He had no patience for fools who would bring chaos into his class, or his life, but he had all the patience with you. “They are scary at first and they have a sad aura around them… But they are here and they mean no harm. They’re a part of this world as death is a part of life. Death is not intentionally cruel, even if it sometimes forces us to go through life without some person we love.” 

You heard a soft exhale next to you, then felt warmth on your free hand, as the professor’s fingers closed around it. You didn’t know how long you sat there in silence, hand in hand, just watching the skeletal equines and wandering through your own minds. “There is no without,” the potion master said suddenly, making you startle a bit. “They may not be around to talk to us, but as long as we remember them fondly, as long as we still let them guide us, they will never be really gone.” 

You squeezed his hand. It was calloused and warm, and fit in yours perfectly. “I think there’s tea ready for us, sir.”

—

“Do you mind telling me where exactly are we going in the dead of night?” asked professor Sharp morosely as the two of you descended another flight of stairs in the Central hall. You didn’t know when it happened, but some time back the teacher let you support him when on stairs. As long as it was just the two of you, of course. He held onto your arm and leaned a portion of his weight on you, mindful not to step on his bad leg too much. 

You wouldn’t tell him, but you loved when he did that. Having him so close, you were hyper-aware of his unique scent, which was so enchanting to you. It was like a mix between sandalwood, parchment paper and a hint of firewhiskey, and you had to restrain yourself from inhaling it deeply, so that it wouldn’t be obvious you were getting high on it. If you were to smell amortentia, you were certain this was what it’d smell like to you.

“Need I remind you that you are outside your dorm room after curfew? That’s a sure way to get you in trouble.” he quipped, no bite behind his words. “I’m with a teacher, surely an exception can be made?” you replied back, your tone light and amicable. Back when you first met him, you wouldn’t have imagined you’d share such banter with the potions master, he seemed far too serious for that. You still showed him nothing but respect in class, but outside of it, when the two of you were alone, you allowed yourself to tease him sometimes. You were always met with mild amusement and slight exasperation in reply.

Sharp sighed next to you: “I really shouldn’t encourage you in this… Should give you detention for a week, helping me grade exams.” He blinked in surprise at the happy smile you gave him: “I wouldn’t mind that.” The professor stopped walking in order to stare at you in disbelief. You felt your cheeks going red under his intense gaze. Oh no, you thought, have I said too much? Can he see right through me?

Finally, the potion master chuckled and shook his head: “You are a strange young woman, miss (L/N).”

You found yourselves on the school grounds, the cool night air making you hum contentedly. Despite no longer walking down the stairs, professor Sharp held onto your arm for support. You brought your free hand to your mouth and whistled on your fingers. A flurry of movement followed almost immediately. A gust of wind ruffled your hair as a white hippogriff landed in front of you. You let go of your teacher slowly, making sure he was prepared to stand on his own again, and approached the beast.

“Hello, Highwing,” you cooed and stroked her beak lovingly. Professor Sharp stood motionlessly, observing the majestic creature with no small amount of awe. “Poppy Sweeting introduced me to her after my first Beast class,” you explained, carding your fingers through Highwing’s soft feathers, “sometime later me and Natty rescued her and one more hippogriff from poachers led by Harlow and Rookwood. And the hippogriffs ended up saving our lives the very same night.”

Sharp listened quietly, his brows furrowed. “I think I’ll rather not ask any questions, (F/N), else I actually might give you that detention,” he said then. He didn’t call you by your first name often, but when he did, it always madea wave of fondness run through you. You wondered if you’d ever be allowed to call him Aesop. You tried rolling the name off your tongue many times when you were alone, deciding it was a beautiful name and that it fit him perfectly.

Carefully balancing himself on his good leg, he gave a deep bow to the beast, knowing how proud they were. A few seconds passed before Highwing deemed his action courteous enough to reply in kind.

The potions master hobbled towards her slowly, extending a hand to pat her feathered neck. He did startle however, when you nimbly climbed atop the creature, settling comfortably between its grand wings. “What are you doing, miss (L/N)?” he asked, narrowing his eyes when you offered your hand to him. “Please sir,” you spoke quietly, your smile seemingly glowing even in the darkness around you two, “trust me.”

He debated with himself whether he finally went mad. It was nearly midnight, and while summer was quickly approaching, the nights were still rather cold. He was standing on school grounds and a student was proposing to him with, what, a hippogriff ride? He was way too old for this. Yet, as he looked at your extended hand and the positively beaming look on your face, he sighed. He probably was mad.

The potions master took your hand and marvelled at your strength as you seemed to have absolutely no problem pulling him up and behind you. Only now it hit him that he didn’t take into consideration where he’d put his hands. Very awkwardly, he placed them on each side of your waist.

Feeling the steady warmth of his body against your back made a rush of blood course through you, and you were suddenly glad to not be able to look at him. Your cheeks were so hot and red, he’d be able to figure you out immediately. You craved to enjoy the feeling of his hands on you, and even thought about buying a pensieve, just so you could watch the memory of this again and again. 

You shook your head. There would be time for that later. Right now, you dragged him all the way out here and onto a hippogriff, might as well give him a brilliant memory too.

“Highwing, go!” you called out, grabbing onto the beast’s neck more tightly. The hippogriff cried and stood on its hind legs before breaking into a gallop. Professor Sharp cursed next to your ear and finally wrapped his arms around your waist fully. Propriety be damned, the teacher doubted falling off a racing hippogriff would do any good to his leg. Or any other part of him, really. Highwing spread her wings, their span positively huge, and Sharp felt they were no longer on the cobblestone path. 

The flapping of wings forced the professor to close his eyes as they soared higher and higher. Then it stopped and Aesop finally looked. His breath caught in his throat. He remembered flying around on his broom when he was a student himself, but it suddenly struck him that he never did so at night. 

It was ethereally beautiful. The moon shone on the great castle, white glow reflecting on the roofs. There were lights on in various parts of the castle. It stood under them in all its glory, sure and steady, yet ever changing. The castle was like a living organism, stony body, a kind soul and a heart constantly drumming with magic, holding so many secrets within the historical walls, Aesop was sure that even if he lived to be two hundred years old, he’d never be able to discover all of them.

 It was so serene, yet so humbling, the professor momentarily felt weightless, not feeling his blasted leg at all, for once free of all of his guilt, of all the pain he ever experienced.

He didn’t realise he was squeezing you closer, that his chin was leaning on your shoulder. Something you were very much aware of, trying your best not to tremble under his touch. It was both salvation and damnation and you found yourself thinking how easy it would be to just turn your head to the side and capture his lips. You held yourself back, gently bumping his head with your own instead. 

Highwing slowly descended above the murky waters of the Black lake. Sharp saw the giant squid thrust one tentacle above the surface, as if greeting the three of you. Feeling impossibly young, he laughed, and he laughed until his lungs hurt. You laughed with him, releasing a giddy whoop, when the hippogriff decided it was time to take to the skies again.

You eventually landed on a coast south of Hogwarts. Professor Sharp felt his spirits dampen somewhat at the sight of you flawlessly leaping from the beast’s back and onto the ground, your movements noble and elegant, and so youthful. Yet, once you looked at him, all smiles and messed up hair, a grin broke on his face as well. He let you help him down, his good leg taking most of the blow of impact with the ground.

Nevertheless, he winced. Oh, he was going to need at least two phials of Wiggenweld potion once he was back in his chambers. Trying to push his pain away, he spoke in a light tone: “So, that’s what you’ve been doing when you were supposed to be in the castle? In bed?” You gave him a little guilty smile: “Sometimes. You’ve got to admit, though, this is rather exhilarating.”

The professors sighed and leaned against a nearby boulder: “As your teacher, I should really be condemning this sort of behaviour instead of encouraging it… However, you’re right. It was exhilarating. And very beautiful. I am thankful for the experience.” 

He scanned his surroundings, moonlight illuminating the area enough for Aesop to be sure you wouldn’t get ambushed by some poacher, or a pack of mongrels.

When he was sure the two of you were alone, he sat on a nearby boulder, content to rest for a bit. 

The professor watched as you picked up a pebble using your wand, and made it skip over the dark water. You truly were something else. He was aware that the amount of time he spent with you was frankly inappropriate, seeing as you were his student, but he just couldn’t help it. The potion master did try to put some distance between you in the past, but it was no use. You’d always come find him and he couldn’t turn you away. 

He didn’t know when he stopped trying to set this distance. Maybe when the last couple of times it was him who caved in. Him, who invited you over for a cup of tea, unsure whether he’d be more glad if you accepted, or if you refused. Never once did you refuse. He realised that such distance was actually the last thing he wanted, that you actually became… friends. Close friends.

He angrily shushed the little voice in his head that tried to ask ‘Just friends?’. 

Oh yes. That was the reason he wanted to set the distance, how could he have forgotten?

You turned seventeen some time ago, officially of age, but that didn’t make Aesop feel any better. You were very mature for your age, and probably have been for a long time. He had no problem seeing you as his equal, despite you being so much younger than him. But as he watched you skipping stone after stone, he could feel his guilt suffocating him, seeing tiny traces of the child you stopped being when you watched your mentor die before your eyes.

He should probably mount the hippogriff, fly really high up and throw himself off the beast. But oh, how much he longed to join you at the bank and wrap a protective arm around you. 

“Sir? Are you alright?” you noticed him staring at you, and saw him cough awkwardly. “We should probably head back,” the potions master decided then, slowly hobbling over to Highwing, who seemed to be happily hunting for squirrels since your arrival. 

He enjoyed holding you to him while he could. He didn’t actually want to plummet to his death after all, so it was perfectly acceptable to grip you tight.

“Are you sure you’re alright, professor? You don’t want me to walk you to your chambers?” you asked with worry in your voice. Highwing’s form was rapidly disappearing in the dark sky. “I am quite well. You should go to your dormitory. Probably best to use the disillusionment charm as well.” 

He didn’t know if the smile you gave him then made him want to laugh or cry, your eyes were filled with such fondness and wonder, Aesop honestly felt like the very air around him got warmer. He wasn't ready when you grasped his hand: “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you joined me tonight.” Oh. And the professor definitely wasn’t ready for you to get up on your tiptoes to press your lips against his left cheek, right where his scar ended. 

Not a second later you were nearly translucent and slowly getting away from him. “Miss (L/N)! Detention.” he called after you. You had the audacity to giggle, before the door to the Entrance hall opened and you slipped in.

—-

Aesop Sharp knew he was playing with fire when he responded to your letters that summer. It was the summer before your seventh year. He very nearly had a heart attack when a greater sooty owl appeared on his windowsill one morning, bearing a letter with your handwriting. There was no address, just his name. Seeing as he lived quite close to Hogwarts, it really wasn’t that much of a surprise the owl was able to find him.

He gave it some food and water, a single digit coming to scratch under its head. It leaned into his touch. A beautiful bird, indeed. Aesop briefly wondered whether you managed to find it from some exotic breeder in England, or if it truly was an Aussie owl. It was also a clever one, wouldn’t leave without a reply and would get increasingly more anxious for him to at least open the letter. 

He tried to put it off, afraid of what he was to find there. The letter sat on a table in his dining room and he’d regularly come to stare at it morosely, as if willing it to open without having to touch it. The breaking point came late in the evening. The bird would leap onto his left shoulder and peck at his scar rather painfully, before jumping onto the table and standing in front of the letter, giving him a pointed look.

The bloody beast had an attitude!

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point clear!” he growled in its general direction and shooed her off with his hand. He sat down and summoned his pen knife. He knew he was stalling, cutting the pristine white envelope open much slower than he usually would. Sharp was immediately hit with the sweet smell of your perfume. 

Finally, he pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

Why in Salazar’s name had he been so terrified?

You mostly described how you summer was thus far, confirming his suspicion that you indeed bought your owl in Australia. Her name was Diana apparently. You also promised to bring him some potion ingredients which were exclusive to the country, some of them so obscure Aesop had to look them up in his copy of Moste Potente Potions. Oh, how he looked forward to experimenting with them. Maybe some of them would be the key in discovering the cure for his leg!

You finished your letter with a wish that his summer was lovely as well, and that you were looking forward to seeing him again. 

When he finished reading, Aesop put his head into his hands and smiled at the same time. He was in a bit of a pickle, wasn’t he?

You wrote letters to each other for the remainder of the summer. Aesop soon learned Diana only cared that he read your letters quickly, but was alright with him taking his time to actually answer them. Most of the letters were quite professional, discussing potions, your upcoming seventh year (actually your third year at Hogwarts), the NEWT subjects you’d take exams from, and possible future careers. Professor Sharp didn’t worry about the letters - there wasn’t a school rule prohibiting a teacher to be friends with a student, as long as it didn’t collide with their education or professional relationship.

The fact that there also wasn’t a rule prohibiting a teacher to engage with an adult student romantically was left unsaid somewhere deep in his mind. 

—

Aesop Sharp and most of the teachers and staff arrived at Hogwarts two weeks before the start of term. Matilda would soon be sending out shopping lists and acceptance letters. He was rather glad he wasn’t the one hand delivering these letters to Muggleborns - not that he ever believed in the ‘pure blood’ nonsense, he just wasn’t feeling up to running around Britain and Ireland to explain magic to Muggles. Matilda was kind enough to leave him out of that. Though, he had a reason to believe she did so not because of his leg, but because of the possibility he might actually scare the children into not attending.

Thankfully for everyone, this year’s Muggleborns would be taken care of by Mirabel and Abraham, who were way more enthusiastic about this task than Aesop would ever be.

—

Professor Sharp felt rather foolish, actually.

He stood in Potage's Cauldron Shop, instructing the clerk to send his newly purchased silver and brass cauldrons to Hogwarts, all the while looking through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of you. You didn’t tell him when you’d be visiting Diagon Alley to pick up the textbooks you needed this year, but Aesop kind of hoped to run into you anyway. 

He sighed deeply once he left the rather stuffy shop. He could’ve easily ordered all of today's purchases from the comfort of his own office, but no, he’s going to act like a lovestruck teenager instead. The professor frowned. At least he took his cane today, he thought grimly as he hobbled over to the Leaky Cauldron, more than ready to eat something, and possibly even improve his mood with a drop of firewhisky.

He did feel better with a stomach full of hare stew and nursing his third glass, when a voice he missed all summer sounded right behind him.

“Hello, professor Sharp. Fancy seeing you here,” Aesop’s head snapped to the left. There you were. And you were breathtaking. Clad in a lovely dark green dress which fell to your ankles, with pristine white collar and sleeves. Upon your head sat a stylish wizard hat decorated with late summer flowers. The potions master was used to seeing you in your uniform, and occasionally in an ensemble of blouses and trousers that allowed you to move freely. 

Now you were garbed in the pinnacle of late 19th century fashion, looking like an elegant lady of high society. And what an absolutely beautiful lady at that. “Miss (L/N),” he replied, a little out of breath. You gave him a kittenish grin, betraying your otherwise mature appearance a little: “Mind if I join you?” Aesop stood with some difficulty and motioned to an empty chair opposite of him: “by all means, miss, sit.” 

You sat down together and soon shared a little toast - the professor with another glass (last one, drinking more would be terribly unwise) and his young friend with a goblet of rosé. For a while, neither of you said anything.

“You look… well,” said Aesop then, cursing himself for not being able to come up with anything better, “your dress is lovely.” You gave him another smile: “Thank you. My mother insisted that I should wear it. ‘A proper lady’, she said. Between you and me, I cannot wait to get out of this thing. The lace is itchy and I’m rather surprised I haven’t passed out from oxygen deficiency yet, seeing as how tight my corset is tied.” 

Professor Sharp shook his head - he never understood why Muggle women willingly used these torture devices on themselves. “Got everything you need for the start of term?” he asked instead. “I do,” you replied, “it was a lot. I’m happy to be able to do magic outside of school now, and make it all fit in here.” You patted your handbag fondly.

Aesop didn’t know how much time passed. You told him about your summer in detail (as you usually kept your letters short and to the point), talking about your visit to Australia for quite a while. He was happy to listen, your voice music to his ears. The way you spoke, carried yourself, your gesticulations - you were a grown woman. The little slips into child-like manners (a grin here, a wild hand motion there) were not those of an actual child - it was simply your personality. Mature, yet youthful, wise, yet passionate. 

And the way you sometimes looked at him, when you thought he couldn’t see. It gave him hope. It terrified him. It made him want to lay his hand atop yours on the table. Made him want to reach over, grab your face and press his mouth on your own. He did nothing. He only smiled at you.

It was dark outside once you parted ways. You held his hand and said how much you’re looking forward to his classes and his company again. You promised to hand deliver him the ingredients you got him. He nearly forgot his cane in the pub. 

With a final smile and a loud crack, you disapparated. 

Aesop stood before Hogwarts gate, not five minutes later. He missed supper, but didn’t find it in himself to care. He made his way to his chambers, all the alcohol he drank long gone from his system. He actually looked forward to the beginning of term when it meant having you around.

What in Salazar’s name was he going to do next year?

—

In Aesop’s eyes, you were exceptionally beautiful. Unfortunately for him, however, some of your peers seemed to share this opinion. The astronomy obsessed boy from your house gazed at you like you were a holy picture. Sebastian Sallow seemed intent on having all of your attention for himself, constantly finding new ways to keep you entertained and get into trouble. Even the Gaunt boy, while lacking eyesight, seemed to somehow sense your desirability. Aesop just prayed it wouldn’t be Garreth Weasley who caught your fancy.

Each time he overheard someone (usually boys, occasionally a girl) asking you out, his heart closed in on itself and only started beating properly again after your (very gentle) refusal of their proposition. And then it would dance with bliss when you’d turn up on his doorstep instead. 

Ever since that afternoon in Diagon Alley, those unspoken words between the two of you gained in intensity. More familiar touches occurred. Sometimes you’d hold his hand when you spoke of your extracurricular adventures. Aesop would run his thumb over its back, listening intently. It always took him by surprise how much trust you had in him, seeing as both of you were aware some of your escapades would result in loss of points and plenty of detentions. Never from him, though.  

—

One time you held him to you, his head cradled into your neck. You came to his quarters at a bad time. His leg was acting up and his potions weren’t helping. His pain induced desperation was made worse by his guilt. What was he thinking? He was a cripple, entirely too old for you. You deserved better. Even that blasted Weasley boy would have been better for you than him. He should never have looked at you like he did. It was quite normal for a student to develop a crush on their teacher (the stories Mirabel could tell), but the teacher shouldn’t indulge the student. Aesop was nothing but indulgent with you.

He tried to send you away when he heard your knocking that evening. His pain and despair must have found way into his voice, because you didn’t leave. You came right in and locked the door behind you. He snapped at you, told you to get out of his chambers. You disobeyed and came even closer. 

You kneeled before him, your eyes kind and full of compassion. His own were filled with tears that would never be shed. Aesop didn’t cry anymore. He was close to it today though. You massaged the muscles in his leg after you've applied a heating charm to the fabric of his trousers. His head hung low in guilt and shame, and Sharp hoped you would just leave. He was pitiful and you deserved better, why wouldn’t you leave him to his misery?

You didn’t leave. Of course you didn’t. He shouldn’t have thought for a single second that a witch who defeated a troll during her first week in school, after living as a muggle for nearly 16 years, would just leave. She held him, pulled him to her entirely. He could smell her perfume, felt her nimble fingers in his hair. Heard her soft voice shushing him, trying to bring him comfort. He allowed himself to wrap his arms around her. Aesop cried.

—

“Have you given any more thought to your future after you finish school?” he asked one day. Snow was falling outside, staff and students were preparing for the Christmas holidays. Behind him, sitting in one of his armchairs, you sighed. “It’s complicated,” you admitted then, “I’d rather be a curse breaker for Gringotts than an Auror, that’s for sure. No offence.” He grinned. “None taken. I’d like to be able to say that I’m glad you’d choose something safer than the Auror office. However, curse breaking is not exactly much safer, is it?” Finally he turned to look at you: “You didn’t take into consideration… shopkeeping, perhaps?” 

The look you gave him was almost enough to make him laugh. He settled for turning the corners of his mouth slightly upwards. “With all due respect, sir, can you imagine me behind the counter the entire day, promoting fantastic new sales and gossipping with witches on maternity leaves?” Sharp couldn’t hold it in anymore and chuckled openly. “Point taken,” he agreed.

“You know you can change careers later in life, right? Don’t have to be stuck doing one thing forever…” you gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to elaborate. “Listen, professor Hecat is… still battling time itself. And she isn’t winning. There will come a time when a new professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts is needed. And if you excel in your NEWTs the way you did in your OWLs…” Your mouth opened in disbelief: “Are you saying I could someday teach in Hogwarts?” 

He sat down into an armchair opposite of you, propping his bad leg on a footstool. “You possess the skill and the knowledge. I dare say you love this castle, this school. And you’d be able to venture out into the Forbidden forest as you do, without me having to turn a blind eye to it anymore.” You grinned into the flames in his hearth. Getting slightly more comfortable by crossing your legs you let the warmth seep into your skin.

“I still don’t feel like shopkeeping, though.”

—

You and Samantha made it inside the Transfiguration classroom just as professor Weasley went to close the door. You were out of breath and red like salamanders, both from the running and the cold outside. 

“Girls, girls,” chided professor Weasley, “I would expect punctuality in your seventh year.” “It’s my fault, professor,” you panted out, “I overslept. Samantha would’ve been here long ago if it wasn’t for me.” Professor Weasley shook her head and motioned the two of you to sit.

—

“I cannot wait to visit Matabeleland again,” said Natty with a smile. You knew she had her reasons to not want to go where her father died defending her before, but now that she made peace with her past and was officially an adult, she wanted to revisit her happier childhood memories. “Me and gran are going to Arizona. We’re hoping to encounter Thunderbirds there,” spoke Poppy then, “What about you, what will you be doing?”

You looked up at the sky and smiled. “Actually, I think I’ll stay at Hogwarts. I really took on a lot of work this year, and I’d like to focus on it in peace.” It was only partly true. The main reason was that you wanted to spend as much time as possible with your favourite professor. Unbeknownst to your friends, the bag you carried on your shoulder contained a neatly wrapped Christmas present (a beautiful set of drawing kohls), a bottle of firewhiskey said to be absolutely brilliant (courtesy of Sirona) and a very special letter you were hoping to present to your teacher on Christmas Eve.

You came to see Hogwarts as your home. You were able to wander through the highlands for hours at a time, exploring every nook and cranny. If someone were to use Prior Incantato on your wand at any given time, the last spell would most likely be Revelio. Now that your time as a student was slowly coming to an end, you realised just how much you’d miss being here. In a way, you were envious of those who got to attend the full seven years. Your solace was knowing that you wouldn’t ever be too far from your home.

There was no without.

—

“Good evening, professor,” you beamed at the scarred man. He smiled back and stepped aside from the door, a wordless invitation. You took him in appreciatively. It wasn’t often you’d see the potions master so dressed down, cladded only in his white shirt, vest and trousers. His tie was loosened, jacket and coat hanging by the door in the other room. 

You fished the present out of your bag. “This is for you to unwrap tomorrow,” you said, settling it aside on a nearby table, “but I see no reason we shouldn’t try this out right now.” He grinned at the sight of the bottle of obviously very expensive liquor. “Hope nobody saw you smuggle this in. It’s alright to have a glass in Diagon Alley, outside of term. Here however, I believe this would get you into all sorts of trouble with the deputy headmistress,” his voice was teasing and he was already fetching two glasses. “It’s Christmas holidays, we are out of term. We just so happen to be in the castle,” you quipped back. 

You held the glasses while he poured. “Well, miss (L/N)... (F/N). All the best for the rest of your time in Hogwarts, and even better for your next adventure. Wherever it may take you. I am glad to have met you, and proud to be your teacher. And your friend.” You didn’t call him out on the ‘friend’ part just yet, choosing to take a sip of your drink instead.

You immediately made a face and began coughing.

Aesop stood before you, chuckling. “Wow,” you said once you caught your breath, “that’s horrible.” The potions master’s chuckles turned into laughter. “Luckily for you,” he said after you made a show of pushing your glass towards him along with the rest of the bottle, “I think of everything.” A bottle of some floral wine entered your vision, uncorked itself and poured a sensible amount into a conjured up goblet. You drank, rolling the light liquid over your tongue.

“Fixed your taste?” asked Sharp, still smirking. You nodded: “I no longer feel like I’m about to die, so that’s good. Anyway, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” You walked over to the armchairs in front of the hearth. Professor Sharp followed and sat across from you. You held a scroll in your right hand and offered it to him. 

Aesop put his glass down and reached for the scroll curiously. Unrolling it, he read out loud:

Brood and Peck

Hogsmeade

Dear Miss (F/N) (L/N),

We are pleased to inform you that you were admitted to apprenticeship at Brood and Peck, Hogsmeade, beginning on 3rd July 1893 at 8 o’clock in the morning.

All equipment necessary for your apprenticeship will be provided for you on the spot.

We are looking forward to our cooperation.

Yours sincerely,

Ellie Peck

Aesop Sharp was looking at you wide-eyed. “I thought about what you said, about the DADA position,” you said, your cheeks turning red under his intense gaze. “I thought… I thought you said you didn’t see yourself in a shop,” he said, still in a daze. “That’s the best thing,’ you smiled at him, “I won’t be in a shop. I’ll be rescuing beasts and taking care of them, collecting byproducts and bringing them to Ellie. I also made a deal with Pippin to bring him any useful potion ingredients I find. 

“I’ll have a bit of money and I’ll be close by. And I’ll be running around the highlands most of the time, which is pretty much exactly what I do now, except without the schoolwork,” you chuckled. Aesop’s expression was unreadable. “What made you decide to stay?” he asked finally, his voice so quiet you barely heard it over the crackling fire. There was the moment, the moment of truth you’ve been waiting for. You gathered your courage.

“There were a lot of reasons. But the biggest one is… you. The more I thought of it, the more the mere idea I’d be somewhere far away from you, unable to see you maybe months at a time, terrifies me. Saddens me.” You sighed then. “What I’m trying to say… I am in love with you, and have been for some time, and I’d like to be close to you. If you’ll have me.”

Professor Sharp’s eyes were glistening. He said nothing for the longest time and you were getting worried.

“Please, professor, think of my words before you refuse me. I know that I am young, but I am of age and I know what I want in life. It’s not just some silly crush, I genuinely believe we could… that we could spend our lives together. You are possibly my best friend, the person I trust and admire most, and I adore you. I think of you all the time, and there’s nothing I want more than to be able to hold you, and kiss you. And be the woman you love. I love you, sir.”

He stood up with such swiftness you startled. Almost as if his leg did not trouble him in the slightest. The potions master extended his hands to you and you took them, standing up as well. He still stood taller than you and you had to look up to see into his eyes. One hand came to rest on your cheek and you unconsciously leaned into it, closing your eyes in bliss as his scent filled your nostrils.

“Aesop,” he said suddenly. “I’m sorry?” you replied, slightly dazed to have him touching you so tenderly. “I should have asked you to call me Aesop ages ago,” he explained, his other hand coming to hold your other cheek, “my dearest girl.”

He felt free, free of guilt and shame, the constant pain of his wounds falling somewhere into the background. He wouldn’t allow it to interfere with this moment. Those three words he craved to hear from you fell freely from your lips. Your eyes were blown wide and he found he could no longer resist them.

A sound made him look up. Above your bodies joined in an embrace a twig of mistletoe appeared. Hogwarts and its secrets…. “There is nothing I’d want more than to have you by my side,” he spoke quietly, the words foreign to his lips before now, but filled with utmost honesty nevertheless. 

You weren’t able to wait any longer. Mirroring the teacher, you grabbed his face gently and guided him down until your lips connected. It felt like the most ancient, the purest form of magic, coursing through you as you tasted Aesop’s mouth. The alcohol was foul when drunk from glass, but on the potions master’s tongue it tasted like ambrosia, getting you more drunk than you’ve ever been, and you moaned into the kiss. 

The world turned into sensations. Your fingers in his hair, his teeth squeezing your lower lip, before soothing the sting with his tongue. The solid, warm front of his body pressing into yours, his heart beating wildly against your breasts. The arms you’ve dreamed about enveloped you crushingly and you realised that you never wanted to leave them. Why would you? You were home.

You were home.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed reading. You can find this work and all of my other works on AO3. I always adore feedback!

[glutengoblin]

IM DESPERATE! Please i beg of you…i have yet to see a patronus fic!

Sebastian x fem mc? And seb and mc learn the patronus charm with Hecat? And Seb later realizes that his patronus is the same as mc’s? Because he loves and cares for her like Snape with Lily. Just some fluff and confessions whatever you choose.

Hi Friend!! Thank you so much for the request and apologies for the delay.

So I may have changed the idea a bit, since your idea got the cogs turning in my head... I hope it's okay! Not my best work, but I wanted to take a stab at it.

(PS: Fun fact, my patronus is rat. Don't ask me why, I have no clue)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None!

Sebastian felt more nervous than usual sitting next to Y/N in class. Although he knew that his face would never betray him, he could never be too sure. This class was perhaps the closest he’d get to accidentally admitting his love for his best friend.

Though Sebastian had be in love with her since the fifth year and the fateful day that they took down a troll together in Hogsmeade, he had yet to admit his feelings to her. He wasn’t Gryffindor, so why would anyone expect him to be brave?

Ominis certainly expressed his distaste for the way Sebastian went about things. He often pointed out that Sebastian appeared to have no issues flirting with Y/N, so he didn’t understand why making the jump to asking her on a date was so difficult.

To Sebastian, however, it was difficult. In fact, the jump seemed worse than trying to jump over the entire Grand Canyon. The risk that their whole friendship could be ruined if he chose to admit his feelings was too great. He couldn’t imagine a life without her in it, even if only as a friend.Thus, he sat next to y/n in DADA, usually quiet as Hecat explained that they would be learning how to cast a Patronus that day.

His skin turned clammy as she explained that sometimes if someone loved someone enough, their Patronus could become the same as their beloved. He had previously known all this information, but hearing it out loud, especially from Hecat, just cemented the idea in his mind. Thankfully, Y/N didn’t seem to notice all the blood that had drained from Sebastian’s face. Rather, she just looked excited about learning a new spell, a trait she hadn’t stopped exhibiting since she first set foot instead Hogwarts almost 2 years ago to the day.

Sebastian tried his best not to look like he wanted to run. Trying to plan what the best course of action would be was difficult, especially when he couldn’t just bolt out of class.

Thankfully for Sebastian, he already knew what his Patronus was - a fox - and he had known since 4th year. Back then, he decided to learn how to cast one after finding a random book in the library that was much too advanced for his level of magic; it was a often occurrence, much to Ominis’s dismay. Per usual, Sebastian had stolen away the book to the undercroft until he could cast the spell perfectly, a silver fox enjoying hiding between the many crates that were stacked hapzardly in the corners.

Sebastian, trying his best to think on his feet, decided that the best course of action was to insist that she try to cast a Patronus first. After all, this was Y/N he was thinking about. Given she was certainly the most powerful witch in their year, and most likely ever, there was no way that she would have trouble casting one on the first try.

Once Hecat told them to break up into pairs, Sebastian turned to Y/N flashing her a small smile. “How about you go first - I don’t feel like being embarrassed by my inability to cast one quite yet.” Y/N quirked an eyebrow at that, studying his face.

“What do you mean? Have you tried to cast one before?” Sebastian looked down at the table, trying his best to turn his look of nervousness into one that could pass off as embarrassment.

“Yes, actually. During 4th year, Ominis and I found a book about Patronuses. We both tried to cast one. I never could - tried again a couple of months ago and still couldn’t.” Sebastian felt the sweat pooling at his collar, hoping that she couldn’t see through the white lie. Honestly, it was the best that he could come up with when put on the spot. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to buy it, offering him a small smile in return.

I’m sure you’ll get it eventually! You just need to practice.” Sebastian nodded a little too quickly in agreement, before prompting her to get on with her practice. Y/N took one more look at him, offering a kind smile, before turning towards the front of the class and closing her eyes.

The thought passed over Sebastian’s consciousness for only a second, wondering what her happiest memory was. However, that was short-lived as a silvery creature erupted from her wand. For a moment, Sebastian was in awe. The feeling quickly turned to immense worry as he realized her patronus was none other than a fox.

When Sebastian turned to look at her, the smile on her face was massive. She turned to look at him, the joy evident in her eyes. “Look Sebastian! I did it!” He smiled weakly at her, nodding his head.

“T-That… That you did.”

“Now it's your turn!” She exclaimed as she tucked her wand into the pocket of her robe, the fox disappearing into the mist. Sebastian pulled on his collar a bit, feeling much too hot. He knew that there was no way to get out of this without at least pretending to cast a Patronus, so he tried to think of the least happy memory he could. Pulling out his wand, he pretended to cast it. To his relief, some silvery sparks shot out, but nothing of substance. He quickly shrugged, putting his wand away as he turned to meet Y/N’s disappointed expression.

“Well, I guess it just isn’t meant to be.” He laughed nervously, incredibly thankful when Hecat dismissed the class a moment later.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Sebastian felt like he had dogged a bullet, as he sat at the Slytherin table the next day. Y/N hadn’t found out about his feelings for her and thus everything could return to normal.

At least, he felt that relief until he saw a streak of (y/h/c) hair, running towards him like a mad woman. By the time she reached him, Y/N slammed her hands down on the Slytherin table hard enough to startle even Ominis. She looked out of breath, her hair sticky at odd angles that Sebastian would typically find rather endearing if he wasn’t so concerned about what this sudden rushed appearance was for.

“Hi beautiful- Did something happen?” Sebastian asked, honestly a bit concerned at her apparent urgency.

“I figured it out!” Sebastian's confusion grew a bit, as he noticed the large smile donned on her beautiful lips.

“Figured what out, exactly?”

“Why you can’t cast a patronus!” Sebastian felt the blood drain from his face yet again, his leg beginning to bounce nervously under the table. The sound from it was apparently loud enough that Ominis felt the need to place a hand on it, trying to stop the movement.

“What do you mean… you figured out why I can’t cast a patronus?” Y/N offered him an excited smile, nearly bouncing in place, practically matching the pace of his knee.

“You don’t have a happy enough memory that you can think of- You’re so brutish all the time it’s difficult for you to come up with something on the fly.” Sebastian tried his best not to look offended at the comment, as he shook his head.

“I don’t think that I’m that depressing all of the time-” Ominis cut him off a moment later.

“Yes Sebastian… You are. We all know it.” If Ominis could see, he would have witnessed the death glare of the century being shot in his direction. Y/N didn’t seem to pick up on their silent communication, the huge smile still covering her face. Sebastian shook his head at the girl, trying his best to act nonchalant.

“You really don’t need to go to all that trouble Y/N. As far as I’m concerned, I’m quite happy not being able to cast a patronus. Besides, I have a lot of studying to do today.” Y/N and Ominis both looked confused at that.

“It’s Saturday Sebastian… You hardly ever study on Saturday. Besides, I know for a fact you don’t have any exams next week. So, therefore you’re going to Hogsmeade with me! Meet me in an hour out in the viaduct courtyard.

With that, Y/N skipped off and Sebastian let out a deep sigh. He realized then that there was absolutely no way he was getting out of this.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

One ice cream, two butter beers, and a pack of every flavored beans later, Sebastian was very full and very conflicted. On one hand, he had greatly enjoyed having this dedicated time to spend with Y/N. On the other, he was growing ever more nervous, knowing that with each passing hour their return to the castle was imminent, along with her “lesson” on casting a Patronus. But, he tried not to focus on that at the moment as the two strolled along at a comfortable pace, inhaling the crisp autumnal air.

“So, are you enjoying yourself yet?” Y/N flashed him a warm smile, one that made him question if lying to her was ever the appropriate thing to do.

“I think so. It’s definitely been a nice change of pace for the day.” Y/N frowned slightly at that, the wheels turning in her head.

“Well… I was looking for it to be the best day. But I suppose I really didn’t try that hard, did I?” Sebastian shrugged slightly, shivering a bit as a stray breeze brushed the back of his exposed neck.

“I mean, I had fun. I’m not really sure what else we could do on such short notice.” Y/N’s frown grew bigger, as the cobblestones beneath her feet suddenly became very interesting. Sebastian bristled a bit, worried that he had perhaps said the wrong thing. Eventually, Y/N did look up and meet his gaze again - but this time, with one of her sly smiles. It was the type of smile that said she had hatched a new plan. Sebastian gulped, honestly worried that perhaps she would catch on eventually that he was trying to get out of it. “What’s that look for?”

“How about we do something else you like? Wanna go fight a troll? Break up a camp of poachers… maybe even goblins?” Sebastian shook his head almost too quickly. As much as he loved getting to test out his dueling skills, he was worried that this was going a bit to far. Besides, he’d rather not put her in danger to just to try and make him ‘happy’.

“I think it might be best if we just head back to the castle now. Like I said, I have some studying to do and I really need to get started on my 6 inches of parchment for-” Y/N’s look cut him off from rambling, as if she could see right through his excuses.

“Did you forget about practicing your Patronus? If we head back now, hopefully in an hour we should be done and you can get back to that studying time you apparently so desperately need.” Sebastian let out a defeated sigh as he followed her down the path, back toward Hogwarts, dried leaves crunching beneath their feet.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Y/N had decided that the room of requirement would be the perfect place to practice. After pushing some of the furniture that was so very her off to the side, she stood in front of Sebastian, studying his form intently. Sebastian flushed under her gaze, trying to not let it affect him as much as it did. Once Y/N had determined everything was perfect, she walked over to stand by Sebastian’s side, facing the same direction as him.

“Alright, give it a go!” Sebastian fought the urge to squirm, as he tried his best to think of his most uncomfortable memories again — a few stray silver wisps shot from his wand, but nothing substantial. It was all he could do to not release a sigh of relief at the sight, as he quickly moved to stuff his wand in his pocket.

“Well! I guess that’s that, no Patronus’s for me!” He turned on his heel a little too quickly, fighting the urge to make a run for the door. Y/N quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, Sebastian stilling at the touch before glancing at her.

“Not so fast their solider. I know you can get it.” She offered him an encouraging smile, and Sebastian knew he was damned. He let out a sigh, turning around again, raising his wand to try and again. Expect this time, he felt the gentle caress of her hands on his foreman and shoulder. She was holding him in the correct form that Hecat had demonstrated. Sebastian felt his skin burn at the touch, willing his heartbeat to slow down out of the fear that she may be able to hear it. “There, that’s the right pose. Relax, you’re so tense…” She positioned his shoulders down a bit, into a more relaxed form. Sebastian gulped, knowing that with her touching him - something he had craved for such a long time - he couldn’t possibly think of uncomfortable memories now.

Thus, he cast the spell, squeezing his eyes shut once he saw the playful fox erupt from the tip of his wand. To his dismay, he felt her hands remove themselves from him - a sign that she was certainly taking this negatively.

He took a couple more seconds to calm the anxiety blooming in his chest before he finally opened his eyes to look at her. To his surprise, she stood right next to him, a grin covering her face as she watched the fox leap around the room. She looked… happy? Certainly not the reaction that Sebastian expected.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed, causing Sebastian to freeze.

“You… You knew it?” She nodded vigorously, turning to face him directly.

“Well… At least I had a hunch. To be honest, I actually knew how to cast a Patronus before class this week. Professor Fig taught me in fifth year.” A slight wave of sadness passed over her features as she recalled her beloved mentor, but she quickly fought it away. “It used to be a rabbit. But when I saw it had changed in Hecat’s class… Well, I figured it changed to match yours.” Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up, as he studied her with confusion.

“I… Why would it match mine?” It was now her turn to flush at the question, her eyes refusing to meet his gaze and instead playing with the hem of her skirt.

“Well… Because I have feelings for you, Sebastian. I have for quite a while.” She offered him an uncharacteristically shy smile, studying his face for a reaction. “I’m sorry for pressuring you into casting a Patronus. I just… I wanted to make sure before I potentially did something to ruin our friendship.”

Sebastian looked so shocked that he could almost follow over. She had feelings? For him, nonetheless? His body acted before his brain could, as he suddenly reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into his chest, and hugging her tightly. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the butterflies in his stomach dancing rapidly.

“I… I have feelings for you too Y/N. I have since we brought down that troll together in Hogsmeade if I’m being quite honest.” To his dismay, he felt her shift slightly in his arms. She looked up at him, mere inches away from his face, her gaze traveling down to his lips.

“Well, I’m glad to hear the sentiment is returned. Now, would it perhaps be too much to ask you to get on with it and kiss me now? As much as I appreciate the confession I-” She didn’t get another syllable out before his lips crashed against hers, fulfilling the desire he had for years.

He couldn’t wait to personally write Hecat a thank you note for deciding to teach them how to cast a Patronus.

[myokk]

what are eloise's fav books? 👁️👁️

Sorry it took me a while to respond, I woke up and saw this…and I’ve been thinking about it on and off all day while I pondered🤔💓

First, Eloise LOVES reading🥹📚🫶

She is also very introverted and thinky…Eloise tends to gravitate towards books that are more about capturing the essence of what it is to be human than plot-based books. She is living in the PERFECT ERA FOR THAT😇🙏😇🙏😇🙏

Also, for some reason I feel like the wizarding world is not renowned for its literature….they spend so much time mastering magic and studying it that I really doubt they spend much time reading novels 😔🙏 but Eloise was NOT in the wizarding world…she spent FIVE years in a muggle finishing school after she was believed to be a squib…none of the muggle girls really liked her bc she never understood what they were talking about, and she never made an effort to try and fit in, so she turned to reading for the first time in her life😇😇😇 gobbling up books like Matilda😇😇😇

(now she has a whole mini-library under her bed at Hogwarts, and has gotten a lot of the fifth-years passing around books that progressively get more worn down and loved)

…ONTO THE BOOKS😤

Her favorite book is Pride and Prejudice. Eloise has never felt like she was in charge of her life, so she loves reading about Elizabeth Bennet (her complete opposite but someone she admires so much bc she wishes she could have more of a backbone). Elizabeth isn’t afraid to speak her mind and doesn’t always follow social niceties if it means compromising her happiness😇

Middlemarch by George Eliot. A beautiful case study on being human (actually all of these books are…)

She LOVES the Russians…Tolstoy (Anna Karenina), Dostoyevsky (The Idiot, The Brothers Karamazov…), Gogol (Dead Souls)…

Little Women by Luisa May Alcott

I feel like Eloise would have also read Picture of Dorian Gray, but it came out in 1890 and I doubt she was up-to-date with new things being published bahahahaha. Maybe she’s not so interested in Frankenstein until she actually reads it, and it also becomes a favorite💓

I personally have a lot more favorite books from this time period, but these are the ones I thought Eloise would especially like💓💓💓 (I had to give a fellow bookworm good taste😇) (yes I think I have good taste in books…doesn’t everyone think that of themselves?💓)

Anyways if you’re interested here is the list of MY top 10 books…some of them are from after the year 1900 but ELOISE WOULD HAVE LIKED THEM TOO😤

[animasola86]

Come back to bed, baby!

Notes: This is a continuation of It is that time again, darling - set about a year later.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut // Words: 10.1k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: Dad!Seb is back and he actually managed to put his breeding kink to good use. Or did he?

WARNINGS: NSFW! MDNI! Vague mentions of pregnancy, birth and undefined postnatal aches (bedridden reader). Angst and guilt and PTSD. Dirty talk and marital sex (including oral and vaginal sex and a special breeding kink)! Also babies and breastfeeding. Proceed at your own risk!

Come back to bed, baby.

“Come back to bed,” you whisper with a sigh as you look from your finally sleeping twin babies to the man pacing the little room. Sebastian slips his hand through his already messy hair and messes it up even more, a concentrated, serious expression contorting his handsome features.

He throws you a slightly pained look and exhales loudly. “It's not going to work,” he mutters under his breath, furrowing his brows, now pushing both hands through his hair.

“Sebastian,” you whisper and beckon him closer, your arms outstretched as you shift on the bed. Your babies lie in their crib next to you, breathing deep and peacefully, completely oblivious to their anxious father.

He finally listens to you and sits on the edge of the bed, gently grabbing your extended hand and cradling it between his long fingers carefully. You share a deep gaze, a soft unspoken understanding of your situation.

When the twins were born about two months ago, it hasn't been easy on you, and you were forced to spend your days in bed ever since until your body would finally fully recover.

Even though the birth of Beatrice and Bernie (you luckily could convince your eager husband to drop the name Bartholomew before your baby boy was born) has brought two new joys into his troubled life, he has been conflicted ever since because despite having birthed him a pair of twins before, this time it has really taken a toll on you – and in typical Sebastian fashion, he blamed himself for putting those children into you in the first place.

Fortunately it wasn't as bad that you had to stay in St. Mungo's, but being at home, bedridden, only able to nurture your newborns while you were barely able to look after Benjamin, Archie and Anne, hasn't been easy on either of you. And on top of that, your combined money resources started to dwindle now that your firstborns were to attend Hogwarts in a few months.

Sebastian has taken two leaves from his job as Professor for Magical Theory since the two of you had decided to try for another child: one to spend entire weeks holed up with you in bed, using every waking minute to successfully fill you with his seed, and one right before you had given birth to your new twins, which has been prolonged due to the unfortunate circumstances of their birth and what it had done to your body.

But the most unfortunate thing about it all was the fact that Headmaster Black refused to properly pay him for his absence, despite his eager attempts to somehow work from home and still try to teach his students – and not even Professor Weasley had been able to convince the stubborn man to change his mind: if Sebastian wasn't able to teach and be present while doing so, he was not going to get paid, end of story.

You usually didn't need much money. Living in Aranshire, you had a loving community around you, always willing to help, be it with babysitting or providing you with food, yet the last winter had been rough on your little hamlet, and your own little garden had suffered greatly, despite all your attempts to save it with magic.

The biggest issue were the needed supplies Benjamin and Archie were to bring to Hogwarts, and even the second-hand options didn't come cheap. Yet you never despaired, even though Sebastian became more worried by the hour, the lines on his forehead deepening every day.

“We'll manage,” you whisper as you squeeze his hand lightly, tugging at it to tell him to come closer. He complies and climbs into bed with you, carefully settling his long body next to yours to not hurt you more.

You've told him a lot of times that you weren't hurting (too much) and that you needed him to cuddle you properly, but he has become a little wary whenever you would wince slightly and let out a groan. You've tried to be brave for him, but he quickly saw through your charades. You were never able to hide anything from him.

He inhales deeply and nestles beside you, his head resting on your shoulder as he gently wraps one arm around your body and pulls you against him, his touches so much more careful than you were used to.

You can barely remember the times when he would just grab you by the waist and drag you towards him, or when he held you by the hips, his fingers bruising your skin, while he would pound into you relentlessly. You even missed the spanking and choking you used to let him indulge in whenever he convinced you to by looking at you out of those damn puppy dog eyes. By Merlin, you missed seeing the mischievous spark inside his warm brown eyes the most.

It wasn't that you didn't have sex any more. Even during your pregnancy you couldn't stay away from each other for long, always needing the other close, very close even, but the bigger and rounder you got, the more careful he became until he barely dared touching you at all, afraid to hurt you or your precious cargo. And after your body failed to recover from the strain of carrying and birthing two very proper children, he downright refused to put you in harm's way, especially if it was him who might cause you said harm.

Over the last weeks you were able to convince him that you felt better, and indeed you did, even though you still felt weak whenever you had to leave your bed – which was to expected from lying there all day and all night, you told him. Of course you knew why he was so concerned, and it pained you more to have him go through the anxiety of seeing a loved one struggling than it pained you to breathe properly.

You raise a hand and try to flatten his messy locks before you give up and simply stroke his head. He breathes deeply against you as if the weight of the world would be on his broad shoulders. It certainly feels like it to him, no matter how often you'd tell him that you will be fine, that everything will be fine again.

“I could get a job,” you say after a long moment of listening to his and your babies' soft breathing, the warmth of his body comforting you, almost drowning out your worries.

He shakes his head instantly. “No, you have to focus on getting better again,” he mumbles into your chest, his hand moving up and down your arm. “I'll find a way to get paid again. There has to be a way! Just because I decided to stay home after my babies' birth... it's not fair... what horrible times we live in...” he continues, mumbling against you, his hot breath grazing your skin where your nightgown has slipped down slightly.

“I could knit or... weave or whatever else these ladies here do,” you say, ignoring his objections. “Or I can learn to make things knit themselves, and then we could sell what I made...”

He scoffs lightly, the sound a rare one these days. “No offence, darling, but you really aren't particularly dexterous when it comes to making things. No one wants to buy a pair of mismatched socks fit for a troll or a house-elf, not even house-elves would want to be given that...”

“I'm sure there's a market for it!” you say with mock-indignation before you laugh softly, the motion causing a deep rooted pain to jerk through your lower body. He notices your wince before you do and quickly leans up to place a warm hand on your stomach, looking at you with more worry lines etched into his face.

“You need to get healthy again first,” he whispers, almost pleadingly as he brings his face closer to yours, your noses touching as you feel his hot breath on your lips. “I need you to get healthy again.”

You inhale deeply and gently grab his chin, rubbing your thumb over the stubble that has gotten more over the last weeks. “I'm fine,” you tell him and close the distance between the two of you when you press your lips to his, savouring those sweet little moments where you can feel him close to you, each kiss reminding you of all those years you spent with each other, all the hardships you conquered, all the nights (and days) you had become one when your bodies moulded together in perfect harmony.

He leans back slightly, his lips ghosting yours as his dark eyes bore into your own. “Don't lie to me,” he says quietly, with a hard edge to his usually soft voice.

You hold his gaze. “I will be fine,” you correct yourself and pull his face to yours once more, needing to kiss him and forget about the aches of your body. He exhales loudly against you, but then shifts beside you and gently cups your face with his big hands as he kisses you back softly, still watching you closely out of half-lidded eyes.

You lean into his touch and close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his warm lips, his even warmer tongue as he slips it into your mouth, and his hot breath that always made you feel light-headed. Your fingers scrape over his stubble, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine as a quiet moan escapes your throat.

He leans back at the sound and your eyelids flutter open as you look at him with your lips tingling. There it is, the fire burning in his eyes, the desire to coax even more noises out of you. Despite not being able to touch you properly, he never fails to let you know how much he wants you, how much he adores you and cherishes you and desires you.

How much he wants to ravish and devour you if only he could.

You see him looking towards the crib where your babies still sleep peacefully. It had taken you three children to finally get the hang of how to properly make a baby fall asleep, though it certainly helped that Beatrice and Bernie seemed to be connected even after having shared the same womb. You sometimes find them lying together holding each other's tiny hands, and the sight always brings tears of joy into your eyes, making you forget everything else their birth brought upon you.

Sebastian's eyes linger on them for a moment longer, before he looks back at you, the fire still burning in his brown irises. And then a smirk grazes his lips, and you stare at it longer than you should, savouring the rare sight.

You are tempted to pull him back for another kiss, but then he gently cradles your head and makes you lie down again before he cuddles close to you, pulling your body half-way onto his as he presses his front against your rear. You shift against him, turning your head towards him. His arms are around you as he brings his face close to your ear, his breath ghosting your skin.

“Do you think they can hear us?” he whispers softly, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through your very core, coaxing a soft whimper out of you.

You shake your head, knowing that a troll could storm your house and your twins would still sleep through it. They'd only wake when they would be hungry, and luckily they had a set schedule, giving you a few more hours of peace, though the same couldn't be said about your breasts if you've read the look in your husband's eyes correctly.

As if willing your suspicions to life, you feel his hands moving under the hem of your nightgown, confidently sliding over your stomach and up to your plump mounds. His big hands barely fit around them any more, but it doesn't stop him from giving them the proper care they need. You lean against him and inhale deeply, licking your lips as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples carefully.

Despite his no-sex policy and giving extra care to not put a strain on your body, he still sneaks in the occasional grope as his slight obsession with your breasts never left his lust-filled mind. He adored them when you were a teenager with not enough flesh to fill out any proper dress, and he adored them more and more with every child you've given him and every gram of extra fat those same children have gifted you.

And you learned to crave his careful touches, the tender and the rough ones, even though the latter have become so scarce. With his arms snaked around your body, he fondles your soft flesh gently, rubbing his palms over it and rolling your sensitive buds between his fingers until they are hard and almost leaking. You take a shuddering breath as he leans his forehead against your ear and presses his lips to your neck, his tongue gliding over your pulse until he hums softly when he can feel your rapid heartbeat vibrating against him.

“Imagine,” he says quietly between kissing and licking your neck, while he keeps massaging your breasts with careful fingers, “the things we could do... with Ben and Archie in Hogwarts, and Anne with Edgar, and the twins sleeping peacefully...”

A soft moan escapes you. “I do that, every day,” you confess just as quietly. “It keeps me sane while I lie here... waiting to get better... waiting for you to push me into the bed again, bury me under your body as you bury yourself into me...”

He exhales loudly against you, the grip of his hands getting a little firmer as he grazes his teeth over your pulse. You shiver. “You mean when I bury my cock into your pussy,” he repeats with a dark chuckle. “You've gone soft on me over the last months. Where's that dirty mouth of yours?”

You give him a tiny smirk. “I have innocent babies around me all the time, I don't want their first word to be something like... that...”

He snickers against you. “Come on, these are British kids, they'll learn to talk like that soon enough anyway. They'll say cunt as if they'd be talking about the weather... Don't worry about them.”

You roll your eyes, inhaling deeply to push your chest into his hands as he's stopped groping you for a moment. “So what are you imagining while you lie next to me, unable to do the things you want to do?” you whisper as you turn your head to him, meeting his heated gaze.

He resumes his fondling, pinching your hard nipples almost a little too rough now. You take a sharp breath, and he stops for a second, but then continues nonetheless, seeing the blissful spark in your eyes.

“Oh, so many things... most of all I want to see you come undone in front of me, I want your eyes to roll back and your lips to part for those soft noises to come out and your face to contort in nothing but pure ecstasy. I want to see your body convulsing in pleasure after I rub you or finger you or lick you or fuck you...” He sighs and closes his eyes for a second, surely picturing the things he's just told you.

You let out a soft whimper. “I'd love to feel weightless again,” you then admit. “Floating so high it will rival any broom flight. I want to feel you twitching inside me, your hips jerking against me as you push so deep you'd prod my womb, and I want you to fill –”

He stills his movements and exhales almost angrily. Your eyes flutter open as you watch him with a frown. “No,” he says quietly and stares back towards the crib, slowly withdrawing his warm hands from your slightly aching breasts. “I... I don't think I can do that... ever again,” he whispers barely audible when his eyes wander back to your body, lingering on your lower half where the dull pain hums deep within. “I can't bear the thought of hurting you again, of making you go through all of that again... It was my seed that did this to you... You're in this bed because of me...”

“Sebastian!” you say almost sternly as you've had this conversation many times before. “I told you, it's alright. Look at your babies, they are as healthy as can be, and I will be too. I am here, aren't I? You heard the healer, it could have been so much worse, but it wasn't! I'm still here!” You grab his chin and make him look at you. “We've both wanted this, I wanted this, and believe me, I will do it again!”

“No, you won't! I can't lose you!” he pleads and presses his lips together, his eyes wandering away again.

The turmoil is etched deep into his features, and it breaks your heart seeing him like this. You know he wanted to add a “too”, and it hangs between you like a dark cloud of a past you both tried to work through, but never actually succeeded to do so. So many years after losing his sister it was still hurting him, and it hurt you even more not being able to help him through the pain. You've tried, everything, but it was a black spot on his soul that would never go away.

“You won't lose me,” you say softly, waiting for him to look back at you. When he does, you smile at him. “I'll always be here. I promised you, and I always keep my promises, you know that! I gave you five healthy children and I would have given you more. But I can't have you worrying so much, you know it'll only destroy you. And I need you, more than ever, all of you.” You pull his chin towards you and press your lips to his. “Even your seed in my womb,” you add in a low whisper against his mouth.

He furrows his brows despite your consoling words. It takes him a moment to consider them before he exhales deeply, his breath hot on your skin. “We'll have to be extra careful then, from now on, you know that, right? And I'll never stop worrying, you know that's part of my charm.” You smirk darkly at that, and you see the corner of his lips twitching slightly too. “But I have to admit, I missed filling you up to the brim...”

You laugh quietly, forcing yourself not to wince under the motion. “I missed that too... Do you remember those weeks we spent in bed? Weeks! It was all a blur at the end but I've never felt so exhilarated, so full, so weak and yet so elated to hopefully walk out of it carrying your child. Well, even if walking was not an option after all of that...”

He chuckles softly. “Oh, I always think back to that...” he purrs against your lips. “You've never looked better than with my seed seeping out of your pussy...”

“And all the positions we tried?” you go on, smiling happily as you think back, leaning your forehead against his. “I didn't even know half of them. But leave it to my bookish husband to teach me something while trying to hold his cum inside me...”

He smirks wider, tilting his head to kiss you gently. “And you know, there's even more we could try once you're feeling better,” he whispers between kisses before his lips move along your face back to your neck. Then his tone gets a little darker. “There's so much I still want to experience with you.”

“And you will,” you whisper back, grabbing his hair as he starts nibbling on your sensitive skin. “I'm here for it, for all of it. For you,” you add and press your lips to the top of his head.

He sighs contently and wraps his arms around you carefully as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath a little jagged as you feel his shoulders shake slightly. You swallow hard and rub his back when you can feel his tears dripping onto your skin.

Taking a shuddering breath yourself, you lie in each other's embrace for a long moment as you hold him as tightly as you can until he's calmed down again. Nuzzling your nose into his soft hair, you fill your nostrils with his scent while his warmth seeps into your body, relaxing the soreness you feel within.

“Sebastian,” you whisper quietly after yet another moment as he just lies in your arms, breathing deeply. “Let's make love tonight...”

He stirs slightly and slowly turns his face to you, his cheeks red and wet, and his eyes puffy, but on his lips you find that wicked smirk you've always loved about him. “What was that?” he asks hoarsely, his eyes boring into yours.

You return the smirk and raise a hand to gently wipe at his cheek. “I want you to put your cock into my pussy...” you whisper, blushing deeply.

He laughs softly and leans up to claim your lips for a heated kiss. You gasp against him, and when you do, he draws away and watches you closely. “Are you sure? Do you really feel up for it? I don't want to hurt you...”

You sigh and grab the back of his neck. “You won't. But I can't do much, you'll have to do all the work...” you tell him, chewing on your lips.

His smirk grows wider. “Not a problem!” he says with a chuckle. “No problem at all! Let me handle it, darling,” he adds excitedly and kisses you again, his hands back down at the hem of your nightgown to slowly push it up your body until he gently pulls it over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him.

He follows suit quickly, and you can only blink a few times, and he's suddenly naked next to you, his warm skin pressing against yours. His eyes roam your body for a long moment before he moves his hands carefully over your skin, starting from your hips upwards until he's back to fondling your breasts.

You let out a soft whimper and lick your lips as you watch him, shifting beside him until he pushes you gently into the mattress to stop you from moving. “Just relax,” he tells you quietly, smiling up at you as he lowers his head towards your tender chest. You inhale deeply and move right against his eager mouth as he closes his lips around your left breast, gently flicking his tongue against the hard bud.

Biting your lip, you throw a cautious glance towards your sleeping babies, but they are still breathing softly, tucked in and unaware of their parents' marital activities. When you look back at Sebastian, his eyes meet yours, and your cheeks warm up under the intensity of his gaze as he suckles softly on your sensitive mound.

The sight sends shivers down your spine, and you feel the heat pooling between your legs, the warmth even reaching the dully thrumming ache that binds you to the bed. Your hand moves down to stroke his hair as he moves his own to your right breast to give it the same attention he gives the other one as his long fingers knead your soft flesh carefully before he becomes a little bit more daring and pinches your nipple at the same time as he grazes his teeth over the one in his mouth.

You gasp and squirm slightly, your lips parting to let a soft moan escape you. His eyes remain on you as if he still worries about hurting you, but you only grip his hair tighter and push his head downwards, away from your breasts to a place you really need him. He complies a little reluctantly, licking and kissing your plump mounds and hard nipples as if saying goodbye to them before he moves his lips down between them until he presses his mouth to your stomach softly.

There he rests his head for a moment, his rough cheek on your abdomen as he listens into you like he has done every time you were pregnant with his children. Your fingers dig through his locks, gently caressing his scalp, and you feel him purring against you. His hot breath grazes your skin as he exhales loudly.

He leans up then, his eyes on you. “Do you really want this?” he asks quietly, worry etched into his face.

You nod, your fingers moving down to trail the line of his jaw, scraping over his beard, until you push your index finger against his bottom lip. “I want you,” you say softly and watch with reddening cheeks how he leans in and pulls your finger between his teeth, his tongue circling it eagerly as he sucks on it with his eyes sparkling.

When he releases it with a wet pop, he grabs your hand and plants more kisses on it until he presses his lips to the ring on your finger. “Anything for you, Mrs Sallow,” he tells you hoarsely and gives you an almost coy smile as he lets go of your hand and places it carefully on your stomach.

He then moves down and settles right between your legs, firmly pushing them apart with his elbows. His hot kisses on your hipbones make you whimper softly as you shift against him until his big hands rest on your thighs to hold you down gently. He moves his lips over your mound and straight to the throbbing bundle of nerves, his eyes wandering back up to you as he starts to suck on your clit.

You twitch against him, wincing slightly as the motion causes something to stir within you. He pauses slightly, holding your gaze, but you just smile at him bravely, hoping to encourage him to keep going. He does, eventually, his tongue flicking against your sensitive nub as he breathes loudly into the soft hint of hair above it. His hands rub over your thighs, his thumbs teasing at the insides as he keeps lapping at your sensitive skin, humming softly against it which in turn coaxes those sweet sounds out of your throat.

You close your eyes and lean your head into the pillow, trying to relax under his ministrations, when in reality you feel the tension building up in your stomach as your walls start clenching and unclenching needily. He seems to sense the contractions of your body and moves one of his hands along the inside of your thigh until you can feel his fingertips brushing against your folds, gently stroking your outer labia as he keeps sucking on your clit, his stubble adding to the friction that you so desperately try to chase.

A deep moan escapes you as he pulls the throbbing nub between his teeth at the same time as he sinks his finger into your slit, rubbing up and down through your slick before he pushes carefully against your entrance. When your eyes flutter open, his heated gaze is on you as he stills his movements against your clit and presses his finger slowly into your eager pussy, so much more gentle than he usually does it. He moves it around in teasing circles, literally testing the waters as he stretches your entrance slightly.

You take deep breaths, licking your lips, your chest rising and falling faster. You see and feel him swallowing against you before he pushes his digit deeper, slowly, ever so slowly, opening your tight channel. He halts the motion when he is knuckle deep in you, his fingertip pressing gently against your walls before he curls his finger slightly, the tiny movement causing you to gasp and twitch against him.

He brings his attention back to your throbbing nub as he keeps licking it with rough strokes of his tongue while he moves his finger within you, slowly in and out, over and over again, and it's the steady rhythm that drives you insane with need. You feel your walls tightening around him, yet before the tension eases, he slips his finger out, but only to push two of them into you now. You groan softly at the stretch and thrash your head back slightly as he starts pushing them in and out faster until he moves against you relentlessly.

Watching you from under his lashes, he leans back and replaces his mouth with his free hand, rubbing fast and tight circles around your clit while he fingers you with reckless abandon. You moan and whimper, the tension growing almost unbearable before it suddenly explodes into a bright flash of light, making stars dance behind your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut under the sensation, the low thrumming in your womb surprisingly only adding to the feeling of pure bliss as you succumb to his eager touches.

You come around his fingers, your hips jerking upwards as your body convulses, your lips parting to let a soft cry fall from them. While you still feel the tremors of your orgasm, you barely feel him pulling away from you until you feel and taste your own slick on his lips as he pushes his mouth against yours.

Grabbing his hair with a shaking hand, you kiss him back hungrily, your moans swallowed by his tongue as he presses it against your own. He rests on his arms, careful not to put any weight on your body as he hovers above you, his knees caging you in while his hard erection lies eagerly twitching on your stomach.

You meet his gaze during the soft wrestle of your tongues, and after a long moment, he leans away, giving you another peck, before he nods wordlessly and sits back on his knees to gently pull your legs out from beneath him and rests them on his thighs. You go a step further and carefully wrap them around his waist as you watch him breathlessly.

Yet before he brings his cock even in the vicinity of your pussy, he freezes, and you see a dark shadow crossing his features as he looks away for a moment. Only a few seconds later, he raises his hand and moves his fingers, guiding his magic through the air to open the top drawer of your night-stand before a small vial floats out of it and right into his big palm. He turns it between his long fingers and frowns.

“Will this still work?” he then asks hoarsely, looking at you with deep lines on his forehead as he shows you the contraceptive potion. “It's quite old, isn't it?”

You throw him a warm smile before you take a shuddering breath, still too worked up to breathe properly. “It'll be fine. I once drank a Wiggenweld potion I found in an old cave and it was fine. Come on, let me take it,” you whisper and hold out your hand.

He watches you with a raised eyebrow but then hands you the small vial, watching you cautiously as you uncork it and down it in one go, the warmth of the liquid settling in your stomach immediately as it magical properties spread through your body. Closing your eyes to breathe against the slightly bitter taste, you give him back the empty flask which he discards quickly.

You see him opening his mouth but before he can voice his concern once more, you smile at him. “I'm fine. Please, can we continue? I really need your cock right now...”

He inhales sharply before the slight shadow of a smirk graces his lips. Without another word, he puts one hand around his length and one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit once more for good measure to make your thighs twitch against him before he swipes his tip through your wet folds and then slowly pushes against your entrance.

You brace for his intrusion but as soon as he sinks his tip into you, you moan softly and lean your head back, your hands falling to your sides while you grip the bedsheets as tightly as your pussy grips him. He moves his hips further until he bottoms out inside you, his entire length buried deep within, prodding at your cervix. As he lets you adjust to his size, you feel blissfully full, smiling softly as you remember the countless times he's filled you out like this before.

He leans back down on his arms and slowly raises his hips, pushing your legs up slightly as he watches you closely. Your hands move to his wrists as you hold onto him, your eyes wandering over his face, trying to convey just how fine you feel. The look in his eyes is one of concern and concentration, and you can only imagine how hard he is fighting his natural instincts to fuck you senseless right now.

You cross your feet behind his back and gently grind your hips against him, giving him the go to start moving. He doesn't hesitate long, but the motions of his hips are deliberate, slow, careful, as he pulls out slightly to push back in, back and forth, in and out, his pace contrasting his heavy breaths. He is too considerate for his own good, and even though you admire him for his strength to hold back on your account, you want nothing more than to have him pound into you at the same pace as he has done countless times before.

You inhale deeply and close your eyes, remembering how he used to fuck you, with his hands gripping your hips or with his body flush on top of yours, pinning you to the bed as he ruts his hips against you, be it with his eyes on you or from behind with his hot breaths in your ear. You moan softly as the memories alone make your walls clench around him.

He seems to understand your need now and starts moving faster, his breaths strained as he grips the bedsheets next to your hips, still too anxious to touch you properly. Your hands move up his arms, and as you feel his tense muscles, you rub them softly. While he pushes his pelvis harder against you, slipping his cock in and out faster with your walls assisting him in pulling him deeper with each thrust, your eyes flutter open and you meet his heated gaze.

“I love you,” you mouth between soft whimpers, and he holds your gaze with dark eyes before he suddenly halts his motions and leans closer to you, his lips hovering over yours, and it's you who claims his mouth for a much needed kiss as you grab the back of his neck with both hands, pulling him towards you before he almost looses his balance and threatens to fall on top of you.

Yet it is exactly what you want, and you keep pulling him despite his obvious resistance. He looks at you, slightly out of breath, as if asking for permission, but you only wrap your arms and legs tighter around him until his heavy body is lying on yours, pushing you gently into the bed while his warmth seeps through your skin, calming the initial turmoil within you.

He captures your lips for another kiss as he starts moving his hips against you once more, the new angle giving him the opportunity to really rut into you, and each thrust sends shivers down your spine and rocks your body beneath him. You moan into his mouth while he cradles your head between his arms as he leans on his elbows, taking some of his weight off you.

Your hands hold onto his broad back, your fingernails sinking into his skin before you scratch them over it as he pushes hard and fast into you, every time hitting that sweet spot deep within, and you cry out against him, your noises muffled by his tongue pressing into your mouth. The tension builds as rapidly as he moves his cock inside your tight channel, and while he still pounds into you with almost desperate abandon, you come around him with a force that makes your entire body shudder and twitch beneath him.

The deep rooted ache in your stomach is silenced by the orgasm crashing through you, and for the first time in a long while you feel like yourself again, weightless and elated, happy in his embrace, happy with your body as it convulses as you want it to convulse: in sheer bliss and not uncontrollable bouts of pain. You melt into the sensation and are barely able to kiss him as his movements become even more erratic.

You groan against him, his heavy breaths mingling with yours, causing you to feel light-headed and dizzy, but in the best way possible, as you feel him thrusting into you, the tension in his body a telltale sign that he's close to climaxing as well. He is lost in the moment, leaning his forehead against yours, but before he gives you that final thrust, the tiniest of hesitations makes him freeze for a second.

You're quick to grab his face and look deep into his eyes before you whisper breathlessly: “Come inside me. Please. It's going to be alright...”

You see his lips moving, but no sounds come out, and instead he resumes rutting into you, frantically, definitely desperately, before he finally groans loudly and pushes hard into you, his tight balls pressing against your arse as he starts twitching inside you, emptying himself completely as thick ropes of cum shoot into your womb, the feeling as familiar as the sight above you. You caress his cheeks through his release before he collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hands move to his back, and you rub it softly, soothing the red lines you left on his skin, as you hold him in your embrace while he slowly relaxes against you, his cock still throbbing inside you, your walls tight around him as if to embrace him as well, as if to welcome him back, eager to not let him go just yet.

Your heavy breaths ease slowly, and you close your eyes as you nuzzle your nose into his hair, relaxing beneath him. Yet when he suddenly stirs, his hips moving upwards as he gently tries to unwrap your legs from around his waist, you grab his shoulders and, against the ache in your thighs, keep your legs crossed behind his back. “Stay,” you whisper hoarsely. “Please...”

He lifts his head slightly and looks at you, his eyes wandering over your flushed face. You hold his gaze before you pull him towards you to claim his mouth. The kiss is lazy and comforting, coaxing him back into lying down on you, slipping his cock back in all the way as he breathes loudly against you. You hold him and kiss him, savouring his warmth for as long as you can.

“How do you feel?” he asks between kisses, his voice low and as hoarse as yours as it vibrates through your head.

“Better,” you reply, pressing your lips to his cheek. “So much better.” And it's true. With his weight on you, the pain within dulls to a barely there throbbing. “You know, I think all I needed to recover was your seed in me...” you jest quietly and move back to capture his lips.

He scoffs into your mouth, but there's a twinkle in his eyes as he watches you. His tongue keeps circling yours lazily before he moves his lips over your cheek and down your jaw to kiss your throat, his hands caressing your head, with his fingers tangling into your hair. “I love you,” you hear him mutter against your skin as he nibbles softly on your neck. “More than you think... more than I can bear sometimes... I would die without you...”

Your heart swells, with love and concern for him, and you rub his back in a soothing fashion as you fight back tears. A stifled sob makes it past your trembling lips nonetheless, and he leans up at the sound of it, looking at you with furrowed brows, a panicked look in his warm eyes.

You swallow and shake your head at him, pressing your lips together as you blink quickly. He reaches one hand up to cup your cheek and wipe at your wet skin. “Are you hurting?”

“No,” you whisper with your voice shaking. “I'm just... so...” You sob again and close your eyes, more tears spilling past your lashes. “I love you so much, Sebastian. And I'll... never leave you... I promise...” you manage to croak out between crying quietly. He puts both of his hands on your face and brings his lips to yours, gently kissing you as you shiver beneath him.

You kiss him back and slowly calm down again, leaning into his touches as you focus on him and him alone. Your breaths mingle in your mouths as you lean your forehead against his, a blissful dizziness pushing aside your worries.

“And... whatever comes our way... we'll manage... we'll deal with it... together,” you whisper barely audible.

His eyes are dark and swimming in emotions as he watches you, then nods slowly. “Together,” he repeats and takes a shuddering breath. “Always.”

“Always,” you say with him and smile warmly. He leans in to kiss you again while slightly shifting against you. You sigh quietly as you feel him moving within you.

For a moment he just looks at you as if to make sure you're still here before he gives you another peck and leans away then, undoing your connection so fast you can barely protest against the sudden empty feeling inside you. Your legs fall to his sides, twitching as they finally relax.

He rolls off you, but then gently grabs your shoulders and turns you onto your side as well until your rear is pressed against his front. He doesn't hesitate at all when he slips his cock between your thighs as he pulls you closer to his chest. You inhale deeply and snuggle against him, grabbing the arm he snakes around you.

You're both facing the crib now where your twin babies still sleep peacefully, their tiny breaths a comforting sound in your ears. Sebastian leans his head on your shoulder and inhales deeply as he moves his other hand to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. A soft moan escapes you as you move against him, your thighs clenching around his hot member comfortably until you feel him harden between them once more.

As you turn your head slightly to watch him out of the corner of your eye, you reach one hand down between your legs and guide him back into your pussy, the familiar feeling of being filled out calming you immediately. He shifts against your rear as he pushes in as far as he can before he just rests there, holding you to his body, his hot breath making strands of your hair fly.

You close your eyes and lean against him. “I missed this...” you murmur softly.

“Me too...” he replies, his voice a low hum in your ear. “Do you think –”

“– we can do this more often now?” you finish his quiet question and smirk. “I sure hope so. No, I know so, because I do feel better, really. You make me complete, Sebastian,” you add and turn your head more to brush your lips against his cheek. He leans in and claims your mouth, smiling against you.

“So it was lack of sex that made you ill?” he muses with a smirk that is both mischievous and concerned, the duality of his emotions making you chuckle.

“It was lack of you,” you whisper against his lips.

“But I was here, I was always here,” he protests quietly, leaning back a little to look at you, slightly hurt.

You reach up a hand and caress his stubbled cheek. “You've been bearing the burden of our life alone for the past months, always worrying about my health and money and our future, and I feel... horrible for putting you through this, for not being able to do anything.” He opens his mouth to object, but you put a finger to his lips. “But I am here too and thanks to your intensive care, I am better, and we'll manage this together now, do you hear me? Let me carry some of your worries as well, please.”

He listens intently, his eyes boring into yours, the lines on his face deepening before they relax again. “We're not selling your hideous socks,” he then says with a smirk that reminds you so much of the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

You laugh, both relieved at his calm tone and offended by his words. “Then we can go back to tomb robbing, how's that?” you suggest and poke your tongue out at him.

He stares at your mouth, then grins. “I promised you an honest life, so no, we'll not traipse through cobwebbed old caves ever again,” he says firmly, kissing your cheek as he leans away slightly, the hard lines back on his face. “We'll find a way. I'm sure there are still some people who owe you a favour or two.”

You snort at that as you think back to your days of helping everyone you met without the slightest hint of hesitation. “An honest life, huh? Sounds a bit like extortion to me,” you tease, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“It's called justice, darling. And it's only fair. You've done so much for so many people, me included, and you need to think of yourself for once.” His voice is low and a tad too serious for your liking.

“I'm a mother of five and a wife, I've had my time of thinking of myself,” you whisper. “It's us now. But you're right, we shouldn't be afraid to ask for help ourselves.”

“Not exactly what I said, but fine,” he agrees with a soft chuckle and kisses your jaw, shifting his hips against you as he presses his hand to your stomach.

You lick your lips and close your eyes, slowly going back to feeling the present instead of worrying or thinking about the future. His warm body moulds to yours as he starts grinding against your arse while your walls clench lazily around his cock.

“So, are you up for another round or do we just lie like this for a bit?” he whispers into your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Why do I have the feeling that you want to make up for all those months we weren't able to do this in just one evening?” You chuckle softly as you turn your head to him, meeting his gaze, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

“You said you feel better. I'm trusting you that you're not lying to me. Are you lying to me?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“I'm not lying to you,” you whisper back, putting your hand on his as he rubs your stomach. “I do feel better and if you're fine with me just lying here, then please, go ahead and use me as you see fit.”

He groans into your ear. “Ugh, the temptation...” he hisses through his teeth. “Don't say that, I might not be able to hold back.”

“Then don't,” you challenge with a smirk.

He stares at you, breathing loudly through his nose before he closes his eyes and nods quietly. “If you insist,” he murmurs and moves his hand to your hip, digging his fingers into your skin, and you moan softly under the familiar sensation.

His other arm snakes around your neck and holds you gently pressed to his chest as he starts pushing his hips against your arse, slowly at first, then quickly losing all kind of control until he pounds into you with all he has. You melt into his embrace and moan louder, the tension within coiling up as your walls tighten around him.

Your eyes roll back as you cry out in nothing but bliss while your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave, causing your body to shudder against his. His grunts are loud in your ear as he keeps thrusting into you, in and out, faster and harder, unrelenting until another wave of pleasure crashes over you.

While you float in the wonderful weightlessness of your release, he thrusts into you mercilessly, his movements much rougher than before as he slips back into his old behaviour, and you relish in the feeling of submitting to him fully. Your stomach fills with a warmth that is not just his seed as he finally stills inside you, pumping hot spurts of cum into your womb once more, but a warmth that exceeds the physical nature of his touch.

You feel safe and protected, completely at ease, knowing he is right there, pressed against you, holding you, caring so much about you that you could feed off his love for years and years to come. Centuries even, for all eternity for all you care. It's always been him, and through all the hardships in your lives, you've been together, and you've always come out the other end, holding each other, being together, no matter what.

You reach a hand up and grab the back of his head, your fingers digging into his hair as you pull him towards you for a kiss that hopefully conveys all those emotions swirling within your body. He breathes heavily against you, the hand on your hip easing its grip before it snakes up to cup your face as he kisses you back passionately.

You're lost in his embrace, sinking into his taste and smell and feel, almost completely oblivious to your surroundings. That is until you feel your breasts tensing up, just seconds before you hear a soft little squeak followed by a tiny little sob. Your eyes fly open and so do Sebastian's, before you both look towards the crib next to your bed.

Your twin babies stir, softly cooing. You breathe deeply against him, and without another word, he slips away from you, not caring about the mess you both created as he quickly walks to Beatrice and Bernie and leans over the crib with a soft smile on his hard features. You watch him as you roll onto your back and shift against your pillow, sitting up slightly. He picks up Bernie first, the little boy already sporting some of your features, while your baby girl definitely comes after her father.

He carries your son to your side and places him gently into your arm, lining him up to suckle on your breast. You look up at him shortly, noticing the almost envious look in his dark eyes that makes you smirk slightly before you wince when your baby boy starts nibbling on your hard nipple. Sebastian meets your gaze, before returning to the crib and gently lifting his tiny baby girl into his big hands, cradling her with his cheeks flushed.

When he puts Beatrice down in your other arm and docks her to your other breast, he looks at you lovingly before slipping next to you on the bed and supporting your shoulders as you feed his children. You inhale sharply under the eager sucking of your twins as you cradle them to your chest, trying to relax while you lean against your husband.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he coos into your ear, his breath ghosting your skin. “Look at what you're able to do, look at our babies...”

You do and smile softly, watching the tiny humans in your arms. In the end it was all worth it, all the pain and aches and those weeks and months you were battling against your own body. Seeing your children, healthy and eager to grow into this world, and seeing the soft expression in Sebastian's eyes, makes up for everything. You turn your head and brush your lips against his jaw before he leans in and captures them for a gentle kiss.

When he leans back, he smiles at you disarmingly, making your cheeks burn. He shifts against you as one of his hands moves over the tiny head of his son, while you gently rub your daughter's back as both of them still suckle eagerly on your breasts. For the longest moment you both watch them feed, content in each other's embrace.

Beatrice is the first to be sated, and when she lets go of your breast with a soft popping sound, Sebastian is already there to pick her up and lean her tiny body against his shoulder, as he stands from the bed and paces the room slowly, rubbing his daughter's back until a little burp breaks from her cute little mouth. You watch him, while you cradle Bernie in your arms, and smile softly.

“My good little girl,” he coos as he keeps walking her around the room, holding her gently to his bare chest. The sight warms you from the inside, and you almost don't notice when Bernie stirs against you, squirming slightly.

You lift him up and smile widely at him, meeting his curious big eyes, before you press your lips to his small forehead and inhale deeply, his sweet infant scent filling your nostrils. Next to you Sebastian is putting Beatrice down into the crib again and turns back to you, gently taking your son from your grasp, and repeats the motion he did with his daughter. Bernie's burp comes loud and immediate, and Sebastian's surprised laugh fills the room and your heart.

“That's my boy,” he chuckles and cradles his son in his arms for another moment while you start swaying the crib to calm your little girl, your eyes locked to the tall form of your husband.

You've always known he'd be a good father, and he even exceeded your expectations and became the best father you could have wished for for your children. He was always there, not shying away from doing anything when it came to his offspring, from changing diapers to bathing them or nursing them to sleep even if he was tired and exhausted himself. It was his unyielding love and support that convinced you to add to your family in the first place, knowing that he would always take care of your kids and you.

He notices your loving stare and smiles at you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he walks back to the bed and sits down on the edge, holding Bernie in his arms, as he leans towards you and presses his lips to your forehead. You take the infant from him and put him down gently next to his sister, who immediately stops her slight squirming. The twins cuddle together, and you gasp softly as they touch hands shortly after.

Sebastian wraps his arm around you as you both watch them in silent admiration. Leaning against him, you grab his other hand and hold it tightly before you raise it to your face and kiss his fingers, resting your lips on his ring. He hugs you tighter, breathing deeply. You snuggle against him and place your joined hands on your lap. He slips his fingers between yours and rubs your thigh with them before he turns his head and looks at you.

You look back, filled to the brim with happiness. His hand tightens around your waist as he pulls you closer to him until he lifts you onto his lap. You wrap your free arm around his neck when he suddenly stands from the bed and cradles you in his arms, a soft smile on his face as he carries you towards the small window of your bedroom.

“Look,” he whispers into your ear, and you follow his gaze through the old glass panel into your backyard, where your oldest twins play catch with a surprisingly nimble Edgar Adley.

The man you once assisted back in your teenage years has been a great help to your little family over the last decade and you couldn't be more grateful to him or his young wife for looking after Benjamin, Archie and Anne while you were bound to your bed, only able to look after your newborn twins while Sebastian has been looking after you.

Your gaze wanders on, and you find your sweet little daughter, the spitting image of yourself, sitting in the grass surrounded by her dolls and a stack of old books, while she moves her tiny fingers over a row of little flowers she braided together, completely oblivious to her brothers' playfulness. Yet when another boy approaches the fence, his hand held by a young blonde woman you know as Edgar's wife and the daughter of his late best friend Milo, she looks up curiously.

Sebastian chuckles. “Look at her, she's just like her mother,” he muses and kisses your cheek as he shifts you on his arms. “Completely oblivious to the world until a good-looking boy approaches and captures her attention.”

You scoff. “Remind you of someone, huh?”

“I was better looking,” he says with a smirk.

“And you weren't five when we met!” you laugh. “Though I'm sure you were already breaking hearts at that age.”

“Breaking hearts?” he repeats and looks at you slightly offended. “If anything, I was and am a heart-mender,” he adds and leans in to kiss you softly. “I did just cure you with my seed, didn't I?” he whispers under his breath and you blush deeply as you stare at him with your lips parted.

“Put me down,” you tell him softly after a moment of watching him closely, as you listen to the workings of your body, trying to distinguish your rapidly beating heart from the usual throbbing in your stomach.

He raises his eyebrows, but complies, gently setting you down until your feet touch the old floor boards. You hold onto him as you look up into his concerned face, your legs trembling slightly. His hands are on your waist, holding you just in case your body decides it isn't ready yet. But you feel surprisingly stable. When you put a hand on your abdomen, you inhale deeply, but the ache seems to have quieted down immensely.

“As weird as it may seem, but I think you're right...” you whisper and smile at him softly, but with your face flushed properly. “Though we shouldn't tell anyone about how I got better, okay?”

He laughs, the low rumble vibrating through your body. “We should also make sure you're properly healed,” he whispers and leans down to press his forehead to yours. “I might have to put in more...”

You cough slightly when you choke on your own spit at his proposal, but then reach up a hand and touch his face, your expression as serious as you can make it look while you feel yourself flooded with mischief and anticipation. “Yes, you might have to. Just to be sure.”

Sebastian's face lights up completely before he picks you up once more, wrapping your legs around his waist as he puts his big hands on your bum cheeks. You beam at him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. Slowly he carries you back to the bed, his eyes momentarily wandering towards the crib, but your twins are already sleeping again, fed and happy, their tiny fingers entangled, as their parents crawl back into bed.

When he puts you down on your back, hovering over you, you shake your head and motion him to roll around until you can lie on him. Once you rest on top of him, you smile down at him, cradling his face between your hands. He watches you with a warm smile as his hands come to rest on your hips, gently gripping your soft flesh.

You give him a short but heated kiss before you sit up on your knees, grinding your pelvis against his groin in slow circles while your chest bounces with every undulating motion. He sighs deeply beneath you, licking his lips.

“By Merlin's bloody facial hair, I've missed seeing you like this,” he whispers breathlessly, his hands moving up to grab your plump breasts, groping them with eager fingers.

You throw him a sultry smile as you move your wet folds over his hardening cock and reply with a breathy whisper: “Well, you better get used to it again. I have a lot to make up for.”

End notes: This started out with the idea to gather some prompts to write short smut or fluff or angst oneshots but then I got inspired to finally continue my Dad!Seb fic and here we are. The angst was real in this one, but also the tooth achingly sweet family life fluff.

By the way: Yes, I ship Edgar Adley with his late friend Milo's daughter. Listen! There is a blonde girl in Aranshire, maybe 8 or 10 years old, and I HC that it's Milo's daughter AND I see Edgar taking care of her after Milo's death (he did say he wanted to pay for her Hogwarts supplies one day) and when she grows up, they fall in love and have a baby boy and everything is happy! This story plays at least 13 years after we do that quest for him, so why not, huh? (Also did you know: that man with that sexy accent is voiced by the same guy who voices Victor Rookwood? WTF!)

As I mentioned in the first part (It is that time again) I borrowed the names of three of Sebastian's children (Benjamin, Archie and Anne) from @subastian-swallows, but added my own for Beatrice and Bernie (short for Bernard btw).

Seriously dude, five children! Two pairs of twins? Chill! His poor wife! No wonder she ended up bedridden! By the way: I have no idea about the topic and I didn't want to research too much because in the end it doesn't really matter, maybe it's even a magical malady, who knows. So please don't ask me about details! (I also have no idea if my descriptions of breastfeeding are anywhere near the real thing, so forgive me for my ignorance!)

And yes: she was healed by his magical cum, believe it or not. I don't make the rules, that's how the world works in my head!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

[boxdstars]

actively tried to make myself in this godforsaken game, and if anything i think i humbled myself irl. i wish i looked this good at 15 (i did NOT)

[miniwrites1]

Welcome to the Family - Ominis Gaunt

Requested! - I've merged a few requests together for this one :)

Word Count - 1.6k

Themes - Fluff

Ominis’ heart was racing, the end of seventh year was quickly approaching meaning that he’d no longer have the safety of Hogwarts, that he’d have to return to his family in the south of England, away from Sebastian and away from you. It wasn’t something that he wanted to think about, however the harsh reality was starting to set in.

He sighed softly to himself as he perched on a bench in the Transfiguration courtyard, waiting for you and Sebastian to finish your last class for the day.

The warmth from the summer sun felt nice on his skin, he appreciated it. He worried that soon he wouldn’t feel warmth anymore upon his return to the frosty, uncaring atmosphere of his parents home. He was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your voice travelling across the courtyard.

“Ominis!” You called out to him, catching his attention. You walked quickly to him, Sebastian following behind you. Ominis smiled as you approached, however the smile seemed half hearted.

“Are you alright?” You asked, slightly concerned at his mood. Ominis was normally very open with you, he trusted you with some of his deepest secrets so to see him closed off was a cause for concern.

“Not particularly, no.” He responded, rubbing the patch of skin between his eyebrows. Sebastian caught your eye, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Undercroft?” Sebastian mentioned, trying to guide all of you to a private place, one that would be more suited to this conversation. Ominis nodded, standing quickly and allowing his wand to guide him. You and Sebastian followed after Ominis in silence, unsure of what to say.

Once you’d arrived at the Undercroft, Ominis sat on the floor, his back against one of the pillars and hands folded into his lap. You and Sebastian took spots on the floor next to him.

“What’s happening Ominis?” You asked, worry lacing your voice. Ominis sighed again, he was unsure of how to explain his situation.

“I can’t go home.” He spoke softly, feeling his eyes stinging slightly at the thought of going back home. It made him feel physically sick. Realisation dawned on you, Ominis had told you about his family and their use of dark magic on muggles for sport, he’d never condoned it and the thought of him returning to that environment was stomach churning for you. You cared deeply for Ominis, spending many a night up late and talking about anything you could think of, it pained you to see him like this.

“Then we come up with a plan so you don’t have to.” You spoke softly, trying to think of a way that you could keep Ominis away from his family. Ominis let out a small laugh at the thought, as kind as you were to suggest trying to help him escape, to him it seemed impossible.

“I agree, you shouldn’t have to go back there Ominis.” Sebastian chimed in; brows furrowed in thought.

“I may have an idea.” You spoke cautiously, unsure as to whether your idea would work. Both boys looked at you, waiting for you to speak. “I need to send an owl, I’ll let you know when I hear back.” You mentioned as you stood, making your way to the Undercroft exit, heading straight for the Owlery. You knew just the person to contact for help but you could only hope that it would happen in time.

By the time you had received a reply from your owl, it was only a day before the start of summer, a day before you would all return home.

As you sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, you saw your owl swooping in from above, attached to its foot was a small scroll tied with a blue ribbon, your mothers signature sign off to any letter that she sent. You smiled at the sight of your owl as it landed on the table in front of you. Making quick work of the ribbon, you unfurled the scroll and began reading your mothers response.

My Dearest (Y/N),

After receiving your letter, you’ve reminded me of myself at your age. Please invite your friend to stay with us over the summer until we can arrange a more permanent solution.

Any friend of yours is a friend of the family.

Love

(Y/M/N)

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face, quickly attracting the attention of Sebastian who was sat opposite you.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously, gesturing to the letter in your hands. You quickly passed the letter over to him, letting him read through it. As he read the letter a small smile formed, he glanced up at you, gently handing the letter back.

“I told you I had an idea.” You laughed, overjoyed that your mother would allow Ominis to stay with you. She’d told you of her own troubles as a child, growing up in a prominent wizarding family and being expected to marry a pureblood, however she’d had other ideas, finding love in your father, a squib. She’d packed her belongings one night and disappeared, never contacting her family again. She’d followed her heart, the same way that you were now.

“We need to tell Ominis!” Sebastian exclaimed, almost shooting out of his seat with excitement. You both made your way towards the Slytherin common room, running down the corridors to get there more quickly.

As you entered, you spotted Ominis immediately perched over by the window looking out into the Great Lake.

“Ominis! We have a plan!” You yelled over to him, causing disgruntled glances to be cast in your direction from the other students present in the common room. Ominis’ head snapped around in your direction, a small smile forming.

“Enlighten me?” He asked softly, beckoning you to continue.

“You can stay with my me and my family.” You said happily, his smile grew more but you could tell that he had some reservations. The Gaunt name was well known in the wizarding community and not for pleasant reasons.

“Are you sure your family won’t mind (Y/N)? I don’t want to be a burden.” He asked cautiously. You responded softly that they wouldn’t. You knew your family and everything they’d been through, if they believed that someone needed help, they’d be the first to step in, regardless of their last name.

“I’m sure Ominis, now you need to pack your trunk. My mother will meet us outside of the castle grounds tomorrow morning.” You spoke reassuringly, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Ominis smiled at you gratefully.

“Thank you, I’ll never forget this.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug which you gladly returned. You stayed that way for a moment, catching Sebastian’s eye as he made kissing motions, referring to you and Ominis. You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head softly before pulling away from Ominis.

“Now go and pack!” You exclaimed, emphasising the urgency. Ominis quickly stood from his seat at the window and scurried off to his dorm, Sebastian following quickly behind him to help him pack.

You took a seat in Ominis’ place, watching the swell of the water hitting the window as the creatures of the lake swam about. You were grateful to have the family that you had, a kind, supportive family, a stark contrast to Ominis’.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, Ominis had packed all of his things into his trunk and left it by the common room door next to yours. Before you knew it, it was the next day. You had said goodbye to all of the friends you’d made over the few years that you’d been at Hogwarts. Tears flowed, hugs were exchanged and promises to write were made. You and Ominis had promised to visit Sebastian and Anne in Feldcroft over the summer, making plans to explore the area and swim at the local beach, you couldn’t wait.

Your mother arrived to collect you and Ominis shortly after Sebastian departed, greeting you warmly. You ran to her, embracing her in a warm hug.

“I’ve missed you my love.” She spoke softly to you. You smiled into her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too.” You mumbled. You pulled away gently, stepping back towards Ominis. “Mother, this is Ominis, the friend that I wrote to you about.” Your mother smiled softly at Ominis, greeting him kindly. You saw Ominis relax at your mothers greeting, seeming to believe that he would be accepted into your home.

Your mother took the arms of you and Ominis, quickly apparating away back to your home. You appeared in the living room, startling your father who was sat in his chair reading a muggle newspaper. His eyes were wide to start but they softened when he saw you and your mother, quickly embracing you in a hug. When he pulled away, he turned to Ominis.

“You must be (Y/N)’s friend, what’s your name lad?” He spoke in a friendly tone, smiling at Ominis.

“Ominis Gaunt, sir.” Ominis replied, a tinge of shame lacing his words, worried for the reaction of your father. Even though you’d reassured him that everything would be fine, he wasn’t able to believe that your family would accept him.

Your father paused for a moment, glancing over at your mother, your heart sunk slightly until your mother approached Ominis.

“May I hug you Ominis?” She asked kindly. Ominis looked shocked, unsure of what to say, he simply nodded. Your mother embraced him in a warm, somewhat bone crushing hug. Ominis was unsure at first as to whether he should hug back, but soon returned the hug.

“Welcome to the family dear, you’ll be safe here.”

A/N - As always, feedback is appreciated!