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rolandtowen · 3 years

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three times Zuko comes into the Jasmine Dragon coffee shop, and one time Sokka leaves with him. Set in the Neurodiverse Zukka AU, but can read as a standalone.

*banging pots and pans together* "Come over here and get yall Neurodiverse Zukka!"

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut!

TW: discussions of skin picking and implied child abuse

When Sokka pulls into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, he is unsurprisingly the first car there. Being a freshman in town means getting the worst pick of shifts at local businesses. Sokka was hired on to work the opening shift, which means he wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5am to open the shop before the first round of sleep-deprived college students comes in. The pay isn't bad, Mr. Iroh is an incredibly fair man,

The bell on the door jingles on his way in, and he flips several light switches on, watching as the coffee shop slowly comes to life. He busies himself with getting the beans for the day grinding, pulling his first shot and dialing in the expresso. When he takes a sip, the espresso is spot on for the day, which is a relief. Having to make adjustments as customers start filing in is a nightmare.

Today's brew is floral and citrusy, so he decides to make himself and iced lavender latte - with oat milk, of course, because he's gotta do it for the gays - and he spends the next 20 minutes setting out pastries and fiddling with the display cases, making everything look perfect.

At 6am sharp, Sokka unlocks the front door and flips their sign to open, before retreating behind the bar to nurse his latte. Not even five minutes later, the door bell jingles, and Sokka sees a flash of dark hair, face obscured by a pile of textbooks and binders. The figure runs into one table, and then another, and Sokka is rushing out from behind the counter. He gets there just before textbooks go toppling everywhere, his hands taking a firm hold of the top bundle. As he pulls the books into his arms, he sees the face behind them.

Breathtaking golden eyes.

And.. a massive burn scar.

"Hi!" Sokka says, "I'm the barista on shift today - my name's Sokka." He would reach his hand for the other man to shake, but for the stack of textbooks in them.

Golden Eyes smiles.

"I'm Zuko, Zuko Sozin," he says, setting his remaining textbooks on the table by his side. Sokka follows suit.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before - are you taking Piandao's Intro to Biology class?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah! You sit a few rows in front of me." Zuko laughs. "Your doodles are uh, something alright."

Sokka knocks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "I gotta keep my hands busy for my brain to focus." He looks down at the stack of books on the table. "What on earth are you studying, to have that many books?"

"Uh, Biology and Chemistry double-major, Pre-Med track." Sokka's eyes widen. "It's really not that much! I got a bunch of stuff out of the way with AP credits."

Sokka raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, it is a lot - but I'm really passionate about it. I want to be a doctor."

"Well, Dr. Sozin, what can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a iced matcha, with a lot of honey?"

Sokka raises his other eyebrow. "A doctor with a sweet tooth?"

"Kind of?"

"Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your dentist. An iced matcha with extra honey?" Zuko nods and Sokka smiles. "You got it, doc."

ii.

Sokka falls into a routine at the Jasmine Dragon. He opens the shop every morning, and every morning of the fall semester so far, Zuko Sozin comes in at precisely 6:05am. Zuko will order an iced matcha with honey, and sits at a table by the window with his laptop and at least two textbooks open at all times. Then, at 11:50am - Sokka guess he has a class that starts at noon - Zuko leaves the shop, always making sure to throw his spare change into Sokka's tip jar.

He's so beautiful.

On a slow day, Sokka comes out from behind the safety of the counter and works up the courage to ask Zuko if he can study with him. Zuko looks shocked at first, but his lips quirk up in a smile as he gestures for Sokka to sit in the chair across from him, moving his textbooks to make room for Sokka's one book and laptop.

"What are you studying, Sokka?" Zuko appears to be genuinely interested.

"Oh, uh, social work, with a concentration in mental health." Sokka waits for Zuko to laugh at him. It never comes. He looks up at him over their laptops.

"That's really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, some pre-med majors can be really pretentious, really dismissive of mental illness, but um - not me. I don't really have that luxury." Zuko laughs, as though at a joke with himself. "What's the Intro to Biology for, then?"

"Not all of us got our common core out of the way with AP credits, like some nerd I know." Zuko smiles at that, and looks back down at his laptop screen.

Sokka pulls his keys from his pocket and starts fidgeting with the stim toy he keeps on his keychain as he reads through his latest assignment for his Mental Illness and Society class. He bought it on Etsy, relieved to find a neurodivergent-owned shop after scrolling through a lot of stores that just seemed to be hopping on the 'trend' of selling fidget toys. He flips to the next page in his textbook, popping the buttons back and forth in a steady rhythm. He remembers Zuko's sitting across from him and stops abruptly.

"Is this annoying? Do you want me to stop?"

Zuko just cocks his head. "Why would I get a say in what you do? It's kind of your shop, right?"

"Um, to be polite?" Sokka laughs. "And you would be surprised how many customers I get who think they get to tell me what to do." His eyes settle on the half drunk latte in front of him. "It's not really my shop either, I just work the early morning shifts so Mr. Iroh can sleep in. If you ever get to stay past noon sometime, you'll see him come in. You can't miss him, short guy, talks in riddles. He's older, a war vet I think - I just get that impression from some of the stories he tells me. But anyway, did you want me to stop fidgeting?" Sokka looks back up to meet those golden eyes.

Zuko glitches for a second. "Oh! No, no, go for it - if it helps you to study, I'm all for it."

Sokka smiles, and looking at the way Zuko keeps picking at his cuticles gives him an idea. He digs into his backpack and pulls out another stim toy, an acupressure ring. ""Do you want to try this instead of maiming your hands?"

Zuko hesitantly holds out a hand and Sokka drops it into his palm. "You don't have to."

Sokka scoffs. "I know I don't have to - I want to. Come on, I wear it on my thumb sometimes -" and suddenly he's taking Zuko's hands into his and getting very close to Zuko's face. Zuko can smell espresso on his clothes and Sokka's hands are so warm against his. Calloused, sure, but warm. He holds Zuko's right hand gently, pressing the spiky ring onto his thumb. "And you can rub it back and forth with your pointer finger and it gives you that kind of prickly sensation that you get from skin picking, just without the skin picking." Sokka pulls his hands away and Zuko immediately misses them. "Give it a shot, tell me what you think."

Zuko tentatively rolls the ring over his thumb. Huh. The cute barista's right, the acupressure gives him that same prickly, scratchy feeling that picking at his nails and cuticles does. "Wow," he says, "I think you've converted me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then keep it, I've got a thousand more where that came from, ADHD perks."

Zuko instinctively opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat.

"You, you have ADHD?" He stops rolling the ring across his thumb.

"Yup." Sokka's lips popped on the 'p', and he turned to the next page in his textbook. "And I'm pretty sure you've got some spicy stuff happening your brain, too. But you don't have to tell me."

"How are you so open about it?"

Sokka's hand stills around the fidget. "My parents never treated me like I was deficient in any way - my brain just works differently, which means I have trouble with some 'normal' stuff. But I also strengths in areas that others don't have naturally. Accommodations aren't anything to be ashamed of."

"Sounds nice." All of the levity drops out of Zuko's voice.

Sokka levels a look at Zuko. He lets his eyes flit to the right side of Zuko's face and the scar there. He's seen it so many times, and the burns look so concentrated, almost... intentional. His stomach churns at the thought. The scar's old... and Zuko's at college now, he has to be safe - he has to be.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me." Sokka's hand starts to fidget with the buttons again. "But I have it on good authority that I am a good listener."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind." Zuko looks down at his hands, fingers rolling the ring back and forth against his thumb. "Thank you."

"Anytime, doc."

iii.

Somehow, fumbling through their collective social awkwardness, they manage to swap numbers.

At the end of the fall semester, Sokka texts Zuko for the first time.

S: hey, im gonna be a few minutes later. don't worry, im still coming.

Z: okay. thank you.

When Sokka finally pulls into the parking lot fifteen minutes late, he sees Zuko waiting outside the door, sitting on a bench, head buried in one of his chemistry textbooks.

"Hey," he puts his keys in the door. "You can just come in while I open, it won't take too long."

Zuko follows him inside, and he closes the door against the chill.

"You didn't have to text me," Zuko says, like it's a question.

"I wanted to," Sokka starts flipping on light switches. "I know you've got your routine, and I didn't want to stress you out when it got messed up."

"Why would that matter to you?"

"Um, I don't want you to be stressed? I kind of care about you."

"You... you care about me?" Zuko stands in the middle of the coffee shop, unmoving.

Sokka smiles. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

"I think we could be friends?"

"Oh." Zuko's face falls for a second - what Sokka has come to understand is his 'processing' face - and he looks back up a second later. "I think we could be friends too."

"Friendship with a barista has great perks, you know." Sokka laughs as he starts up the grinder. "Although the perks of a social worker friend aren't too bad either."

"How's that going? With your first semester ending?" Zuko sits on a stool at the bar and watches Sokka putter around behind it.

"Well, I'm going to pass Intro to Biology, not for lack of trying on Piandao's part - I swear he's trying to weed out all the humanities kids. It isn't even a weed out course!" He polishes an espresso glass furiously. "How are you doing?"

Zuko chokes. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, you know it's a hard class and all -"

"You're getting an A, aren't you?" Sokka squints at him from behind a bag of coffee beans. "Curve breaker," he scoffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm, what did you call it? A 'burnt-out gifted kid with people pleasing tendencies'." Zuko crosses his arms and huffs at the memory of that conversation. Sokka had read him like a picture book. And it was not fair for one person to be that good at emotions.

"You are correct, I did indeed call you that." Sokka pulls the first shot of the morning. "And it looks like I was right."

"You know what you said the other week, about being a good listener?"

"Sure do," Sokka takes a sip of the espresso, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, if we're going to be... friends, I just think you'd want to know that - I'm autistic." Zuko stares at Sokka searching his face for any cues about what the next words out of his mouth will be, waiting for the facade of friendship to drop. He furiously rolls the acupressure ring up and down his thumb.

"Okay, that's great!"

"...what."

Zuko's hands freeze and he squeezes the ring against his skin, feeling the pressure increase.

"That's great, I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me that. I kind of guessed your parents weren't as accommodating as mine?"

Zuko laughs something sour. "No, no they were not." He looks up in surprise as Sokka puts an iced matcha, extra honey, in front of him. "You're right though, I do feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Zuko looks down at the acupressure ring on his thumb, softening his grip. "You could have totally ignored me, but you didn't. Or you could've been mean about my quirks - but you weren't. Why?"

"Well, for starters, you tip well." Sokka smiles and leans across the counter, bracketing Zuko's elbows in with his own. "But you're also a really great guy - you're passionate, you want to make people's lives better, and you're also like, really beautiful."

Zuko feels his cheeks flush. "You really think that?" His fingers still against the fidget again, but he doesn't feel the need to press it into his skin. He's captivated by Sokka's words. Surely, Sokka couldn't actually mean -

"Oh, yeah. Every bit." Sokka brushes his hand against one of Zuko's, the one with the fidget ring. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes, please, yes." After weeks, Sokka's hand is back in his, and Zuko thinks he's going to implode. "Can, can you hold both of my hands? With both of your hands?"

"Of course," Sokka's positively beaming, grabbing Zuko's hands and running his thumbs across his knuckles. "Now you're absolutely allowed to say no to my next question, and there are no hard feelings."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Fuck yes."

The iced matcha is forgotten.

+ i

Sokka's feet hurt like hell. Mr. Iroh had called in him to work a double on Friday, and since he doesn't have any classes on Fridays, he foolishly agreed.

It won't seem so foolish once you see the paycheck, he reminds himself. He and Zuko have a deal. Zuko pays for his medical school with his job shelving books at the University library, and Sokka pays for their tiny apartment by caffeinating all of the other broke college kids in town. By some miracle, they seem to be able to make it work. Zuko graduated into the medical college a year early, which helps with tuition costs, and of course his brilliant boyfriend got all kinds of scholarships.

Sokka is indescribably proud of him.

The door bell jangles just as Sokka is wiping the crumbs off the last cafe table. "Hey, we're starting to close up for the night, so it'd better be a to-go order," he calls over his shoulder.

"Even for me?"

"Zuko!" Sokka drops his cloth immediately and spins around, pulling Zuko into a hug. Zuko taps the small of his back when he's ready to let go, and Sokka lets him go, beaming. "You came to visit me at work?"

"More like I picked up your favorite soup dumplings from Haru's across the street and thought we could walk home together?" Zuko shrugs, gesturing to the brown paper bag in his arms. "How's that sound to you?"

"Baby, that's just what I needed today." Sokka picks up his cleaning supplies. "Okay, I just need to put all of this away and then we can lock up and go home, how's that?"

"Great," Zuko smiles at him. "I may have also picked up some more Doctor Who DVDs from the library," he smirks.

"Oh, you trickster!" Sokka yells from the kitchen, before appearing again. "You used my one weakness, pork soup dumplings, against me in order to get your nerdy way."

"Oh, big talk coming from the guy who watches astronomy documentaries for fun," Zuko laughs as Sokka leads him out of the shop, switching off the lights and locking the door behind him. "If it were up to you, we'd be watching Cosmos all weekend, and I can only take so much of Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining the peculiarities of the moon."

"Hey, the moon is cool!"

"You are correct, the moon is very cool. It's freezing, because it's a rock. In space. With no atmosphere. Or life." Zuko deadpans, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sokka.

"Fine, you get Doctor Who tonight, but Saturday is going to be all PBS Nova, baby. Brace yourself." Sokka takes Zuko's free hand into his as they start the walk home.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'm happy."

Notes:

fidgets in this work were inspired by those from shop StimBox

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 7

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

3rd Person POV

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts wakes up to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake freezes solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban, (Y/n) watching with a smirk on her face. The few owls that had managed to battle their way though the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

"I do feel so sorry," says Draco Malfoy during a Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home, or those who have to stay at someone else's house because they have no parents," he adds, (Y/n) staring at her perfected potion, her eyes flashing a silver before flickering back to green; Hermione shoots him a hateful glare.

The blond had been staring at Harry and (Y/n) as he had spoke, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling. Harry, who had been measuring powdered spine of lion-fish, ignores him. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing (Y/n) as Seeker next; then he'd realized that nobody had found this funny, because everyone had been so impressed on how well (Y/n) had managed to stay on her broom. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry and (Y/n) about having, either, no proper family, or no family at all.

(Y/n) had just turned in a vile of her potion, Snape looking at it, then nods, scribbling a 100 into his grade-book, nodding to the girl. "Ten points to Gryffindor," he announces to the class, everyone looking up, "for Miss (L/n)'s perfect potion." (Y/n) shoots a smirk at Malfoy, who had been trying to outdo her in Potions from the first class. Hermione, Harry, Ron, and the Spences hiding smiles as steam practically gushes from Malfoy's ears.

When they leave the dungeons at the end of Potions, they find a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound tells them that Hagrid is behind it.

"Hey Hagrid, need any help?" Ron asks, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Malfoy's cold drawling voice comes from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dives at Malfoy just as Snape comes up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron lets go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"Professor, Malfoy was insulting his family," (Y/n) says, taking a step forward towards the Potions Master.

"Five points from Slytherin," Snape tells Malfoy, and Malfoy sends a hateful glare at (Y/n).

The Potions Master walks away and Malfoy turns to (Y/n).

"What's wrong Draco?" (Y/n) asks in false sympathy. "Feel bad being worse than a orphaned Mudblood?" she asks, stepping towards the blond.

"Shut up!" He says. "My father will hear about this (L/n), and then you'll be sorry," he says.

(Y/n) glances around, "Look's like he's not here. See you around, Blondie," (Y/n) says, turning around and walking back towards Hagrid and her friends, all of them were staring at her with wide eyes.

"That was bloody brilliant," Ron says, and (Y/n) laughs. "I'll get him," Ron says suddenly, grinding his teeth. "One of these days, I'll get Malfoy -"

"I hate them both, Snape and Malfoy," says Harry.

"Come on, cheer up. It's nearly Christmas," says Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the six of them follow Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick are busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looks spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hang all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stand around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asks.

"Just one," says Hermione. "And that reminds me — Harry, Ron, (Y/n) we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," says Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who has golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and is trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" says Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry tells him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looks shocked. "Listen here — I've told yeh — drop it.It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"Actually," (Y/n) interjects. "That's what their doing. Snape gave me extra homework over the break." (Y/n) rolls here eyes.

"Looks like being a Potions prodigy might not be such a good thing," Ron says, and (Y/n) rolls her eyes.

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," says Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry adds. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," say Ron, and they leave Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurries off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. (Y/n) has the strangest feeling that she had heard or seen that name somewhere in her extra Potions homework. Flamel wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time;he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione takes out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. (Y/n) had taken out her Potions homework.

Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Nothing," answers Harry.

Madam Pince the librarian brandishes a feather duster at him.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on — out!"

Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Ron, Hermione, and the twins had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them,but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.

Harry waits outside in the corridor to see if the other four had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really need was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) join him, Ron and Hermione shaking their head; they go off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while we're away, won't you?" asks Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," says Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

(Y/n) lets out a laugh as Hermione continues.

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," says Hermione.

That evening has Hermione and (Y/n) and (Y/n) packing, getting ready to leave the following morning.

(Y/n) flops down on her bed and Marvel jumps up, her paws placed on (Y/n)'s cheeks.

(Y/n) smiles at Hermione as throws a blanket over (Y/n) and her cat.

The next morning, Hermione wakes up (Y/n) and (Y/n) places Marvel in her basket.

(Y/n) places the straps on her guitar and slings it over her back.

The two take their packed trunks downstairs, making sure to say goodbye to Harry and Ron before they leave.

The sisters take the carriages down to the Hogwarts' Express and they board the train.

(Y/n) pulls out her Potions homework and works through it, but gets stuck on the last question. She runs her hands through her sleek (H/c) hair.

Thinking for a while, she finally finally finishes the question, pulls her trunk off the shelf, and puts her homework inside.

"I feel so accomplished," (Y/n) grumbles, sitting back down and leaning her head against the window.

Marvel jumps out of her travel basket and hops into Hermione's lap.

(Y/n) glances at her guitar resting next to her in her seat before she picks it up and begins to strum.

Hermione smiles as (Y/n) finishes playing and then (Y/n) places the guitar on her back.

"Come on 'Mione," (Y/n) says pulling down her and her sister's trunks and Marvel's carrying basket.

Hermione's smile widens as she grabs her trunk and Marvel jumps onto her shoulder.

Hermione jumps down after (Y/n) and (Y/n)'s arm shoots out to steady Hermione as she stumbles.

Hermione beams at her sister and (Y/n) shakes her head, an amused light in her eyes.

The two walk through the barrier and it seems to be more dreary in the Muggle world then on Platform 9 and 3 Quarters.

"What happened?" (Y/n) murmurs to Hermione as they walk towards their parents.

"Hi Mum! Hi Dad!" Hermione says cheerfully and (Y/n) gives a little wave.

Mr. Granger gives (Y/n) a hug, and (Y/n) returns it warmly.

Mrs. Granger greets her adopted daughter with a kiss to the forehead and a hug.

"Hi Mum, Dad!" (Y/n) greets with a warm smile.

"Hi, girls," Mrs. Grangers says. "Let's get home."

"Best thing I've heard all day," (Y/n) says with a grin.

Mr. Granger laughs and the four - plus Marvel - walk out to the car.

"I dunno," Hermione says. "Your guitar playing skills are pretty great."

"Oh stop," (Y/n) says with a smile.

"I guess we'll have to hear it at home," Mrs. Granger says as Hermione and (Y/n) load their trunks into the boot of the car.

(Y/n) gently sets her guitar on the top of her trunk before Mr. Granger closes the boot.

(Y/n) climbs into the car next to her sister and Marvel jumps down to sit in between the two.

Listening to the radio on the way home, (Y/n) listens closely to the news:

"Legendary weapons developer Howard Stark, as well as his wife, was found dead a few days ago. The death of his parents seemingly haunted Tony Stark after the disappearance and presumed death of his daughter and girlfriend about ten years ago when he was around the age of nineteen."

Poor guy, (Y/n) thinks. Imagine loosing the love of your life, your daughter, and your parents. I guess I kind of know what that's like, though I wasn't old enough to comprehend it at the time.

Hermione glances over at her sister who was staring off into the distance.

As if sensing Hermione's gaze on her, (Y/n) looks back over at her with a warm smile.

Hermione shoots (Y/n) a quizzical look but (Y/n) shakes her head.

Marvel tilts her head and pads forward, thrusting her head under (Y/n)'s chin. (Y/n) smiles and scratches behind the kitten's ears.

(Y/n) strokes the kitten's black-and-white fur, remaining silent as the car ride goes on.

Once the four - plus Marvel - arrive back home, (Y/n) helps Mr. Granger unload the trunks from the back of the car, but not before slinging her guitar over her back.

Word Count: 2194 words

Love, Kaitlynn ❤😘

#hermione granger x sistare reader

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 7