#a slightly shorter chapter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avelnfear · 1 year

Text

Chapter Eight

Masterlist

Talia wasn’t as cold as she was made out to be. Not in the depths of her heart, anyway. She couldn’t have been with her childhood friend that had kept her company, telling her tales of the outside world and showing her ways to win fights without showing her hand. Eventually, she’d understood how special her friend was, but even before then she’d been keeping her softer demeanor hidden. It would not do to show the League of Assassins or Father that she wasn’t as cold and unbothered as an Al Ghul should be.

Her friend featured in her dreams as often as in her waking moments, although the dreams were so different from what her life was like. It showed her in a very different environment, older, with a son, Father was long dead, and she was just meeting her friend for the first time as a grown woman. It showed her the consequences of her friend knowing their history too soon from the start, and anytime she was tempted to spill the beans about what she knew it was quick to remind her. The dreams were clearly not always in order and some details were hazy, but she was grateful for the valuable information they provided.

As was inevitable, her friend had to stop visiting for a period of time due to the rules of time travel and all that. She didn’t look for them, knowing that she’d find them again when the time was right. Father never found out about her friend, although he was suspicious for a little while about what she was hiding until she threw him off the scent with a more feasible “secret” than a time traveling friend from other lives. On the outside, she shouldn’t have had the level of experience needed to lie to Father, but, on the inside, she knew how because she’d lived longer than him.

All this rushed through her head in seconds as one of her people knelt before her. She hummed lightly to let him know that she wasn’t upset, merely thoughtful, and his relaxation only proved to her that this was the right way to lead. Leading through kindness and respect rather than fear and respect. The information was so much more free this way, and the loyalty was even stronger.

“You did well Simon.” She practically purred the words as a plan with several contingencies sprung to the front of her mind. “Keep watch as you have done for so long and don’t worry about interfering just yet. Everything will work out. Report back to me when the day is set for that man’s plan, and remember Plan Ouroboros.” She nodded her dismissal, and the nod was returned as Simon retreated to his post.

Talia settled onto the ground with her legs crossed and her hands resting on her knees. She let her eyes close, extending her awareness to make sure she was still alone in the room while she descended into thought. It would not be wise to let down her guard even in her own room at the heart of a stronghold that belonged to Father. She needed to be careful, now just as much as ever and maybe even more than usual.

This situation was truly one that she could never have dreamed of, even when she’d discovered that she was not alone in her memories with the arrival of her precious child, her shining star. He’d kept it fairly under wraps, enough that no one who didn’t know what he should be acting like wouldn’t pick up on it, but she picked up on it, responding by nurturing him the slightest bit more in whatever way she could.

It’s not to say that she didn’t hope for her and her child to reunite with the friend they both knew, no, Talia had always hoped that such a situation would happen. She just didn’t think it would be so… perfect. The friend was currently away, there was no evidence of anyone else remembering anything, and she was currently in a position where taking over the League, with her friend and Plan Ouroboros to help, would go off without too many issues in most scenarios. It was absolutely wonderful, almost as wonderful as the faces of her loved ones as they realized just who she actually was and who she stood with.

That thought led her to think about Bruce, her Beloved. At first, she’d thought what they’d had was true love, but now, through the lenses of hindsight, she knew that it was true love, in a different way then her first imaginings. Bruce was her Beloved Brother, which made it a little weird when she remembered he was the Father of her precious child, but she dealt with those feelings as they came. Choosing to ignore them most of the time, like right now for instance.

Talia wondered how her other precious child was doing. It had broken her heart to have to curse him to deal with the side effect of the way she brought his mind back, but she knew it was a necessary part of his character going forward. She’d not tried to manipulate him nearly as much nor in the same direction as previously, but she still knew he’d done some heavy things that he’d surely regret, again. She hoped that one day he would see her as the maternal figure she’d hoped to be.

Her friend was going to absolutely tear Father apart, but that wouldn’t be beneficial. No, to truly make the amount of impact while maintaining the distance they wanted, she’d have to be the one to face Father. Which meant that she’d finally be able to show her friend the fruits of her labor combined with the genius of their training. It would only make the shocked faces of her loved ones even more amusing and entertaining. It would single handedly prove that she was correct to hide cameras all over the League’s bases, aside from all the obvious information gathering opportunities.

Talia was starting to grow restless, itching for a weapon in her hand or something to do, somewhere to move, but that was not what this exercise was for. She already had great self control, but there would never be any harm in making sure to hone that particular skill. Out of spite towards herself, she emptied her head of thoughts for the next two hours.

A knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts, it appeared that it was time to go on a mission, and, judging by the breathing pattern and the depth of said breathing outside her door, it was one of Father’s minions and it was urgent. This was likely the mission to go and set up the structure that would be used to kidnap the Bats and the Birds, how amusing.

Standing and wiping any and all signs of emotion from her face, she made towards the door, this would prove to be very interesting, no matter how the cards fell.

~`~`~

Elle stared at her sleeping original, at her ma. They’d talked to Ghost Writer who’d told them that he’d do some research yet promised no results. She’d read between the lines to see that Ghost Writer just wanted a good story with plenty of suspense this time around. Danny had been mildly annoyed at the prospect of waiting, which she understood given what case they were looking for the answers to, but he hadn’t gotten too angry, meaning there must still be time or hope left. Clockwork had worked Danny till he was ready to drop, and even sleeping as much as he had didn’t fully get rid of the exhaustion.

Her thoughts were a mess because of the excitement-anxiety-happy-belonging that churned in her core due to the upcoming chance to live with Danny. She knew that she’d have to watch her behavior in order to not accidentally incriminate her beloved template to any of their precious bats, but she could, no, she would do it. Elle wanted so badly for all of them to remember, to know what all they’d been through together, but it just wasn’t meant to be.

She hoped that there wouldn’t be too many misunderstandings with her around. She’d only been speaking in Ghost Speak for a couple of years now, and it never really translated all that well into simple conversations in mortal languages. Elle had been exploring the Realms for those years, only using mortal languages again when she needed to go on missions now and then to keep Danny safe.

Putting that thought from her mind, she curled around her original once again, basking in the complete sense of safety that they were giving off. Things would be okay as long as she always had her wonderful parent to come back to. She just hoped, prayed and desired for her Pops to wake up, or his memories to at least. She wasn’t sure just how stable her original would remain without him by their side.

~`~`~

Jason had slept until just an hour before Danny returned, and he was now standing outside of their door, building up the courage to knock. He didn’t know why it was so difficult, it was just Danny after all, but something was telling him that knocking on the door would change a great many things. It seemed nonsensical at best to assume that something so simple could truly change so much, but Jason hadn’t gotten this far by ignoring his instincts.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock, only for the door to swing open and an unfamiliar girl to look up at him, blinking slightly in shock. A wide, teasing grin swept over her face as she leaned back to face further into Danny’s apartment and called out, “Ma!! Tall, Dark and Handsome is here to see you!!” Jason flushed at the words. What?!

Did Danny have a girlfriend? Who? Why hadn’t they told him beforehand? Had Danny moved or gone missing? Who was this strange girl standing in the doorway? Why did she seem to recognize him? What was the nickname for? Why-? What-? Huh-? He could swear his brain was shutting down because his vision was going all weird and he could hear a strange humming that seemed to bubble in volume.

“-ason. Jason. Jason!” He suddenly became aware of the fact that he was laying on Danny’s ridiculously comfortable couch while Danny’s face swam into view in front of him. “Can you see me, Jason? Do I need to give you the same treatment I gave Tim?”

Jason flinched at the idea of being slapped like that, it had sounded like it really hurt. “No, no, I’m… good, I think. Um.” Why was Jason fumbling on this so hard? There was no real explanation for it.

“Ma!” The word was extended teasingly from someone out of sight, the voice was gleeful and reminded Jason of the girl who’d opened the door. “Is Tin Can awake and aware yet?”

Tin Can? Wait, did she know who he was? Who was-

“Danielle Helene Rhea Nightingale, you stop teasing our guest right this instant.” Danny’s voice cracked like a whip with all the intensity of one of Alfred’s commands. He was glaring at someone behind Jason, and the fire in his eyes captivated Jason. It was so intense and so breathtaking and- he stopped the train of thought right in its tracks before it became a train wreck and got himself slapped.

“Sorry Ma.” It was the sort of dragged out apology done by someone who’d been reprimanded about this very thing far too many times. “I’ll be good.” The girl walked around the couch and into his sight, looking properly chastised.

“Why does she call you Ma?” It took a second for Jason to recognize that he was the one who asked the question. The other two were looking at each other by the time he did, having a silent conversation that Jason couldn’t understand.

Danny sighed. “We come from a place that often uses a language that doesn’t translate well into any language that I know of. It’s a small town on Earth with a lot of immigrants that taught me their language. Elle here is my adopted child, and she used only that language for a couple of years. Old habits die hard and all that. The actual translation, before you ask, is a little bit close to something like: the parental figure who primarily looks after emotional needs that is there for their child in any time they are needed. English translates that to Mother and all the variations of it due to the supposed gender roles enforced by the history of the language and other stuff like that. She also tends to call me Pa or Da as well, but she’s been calling me Ma since I agreed to let her come live with me full time now that I have a safe space.”

The girl, Elle, nodded behind Danny, affirming what they were saying. “Yeah! I might have some weird stuff that I say sometimes, but I’ll always try to elaborate if it’s brought up that there’s a misunderstanding!” She beamed at him with a massive smile that lit up the room better than the lights were.

“Oh… That makes sense. What does the language sound like?” He felt his head tilt, internally cursing the fact that he’d started to copy a couple of Danny’s mannerisms, his brothers would never let him live that down.

Elle and Danny shared another series of looks that Jason couldn’t translate. “Are you sure you want to know? It’s not very… human in nature.” Elle seemed almost, afraid? concerned? conflicted?, one of those three or maybe all about the answer she would receive.

“I gathered as much from the translation and how you two are dancing around the subject. If you don’t want to share with me, then don’t, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re someone Danny cares about, so you’re someone I care about.” He tried to smile to show more emotion than his voice was giving off, but he didn’t think it worked because Elle looked close to tears.

“It’s your decision Little Rocket, you decide. I’m not quite comfortable speaking in that language right now, so it’s all up to you.” Danny was more gentle and soft in voice and face and behavior than Jason had ever seen, and it made him fall more for him. Wait-

“Okay then, here goes!” She opened her mouth and made some sort of noise that sounded like sunlight filtering through water on a warm and sunny day mixed with the feeling of lots of clouds covering the sun while simultaneously feeling like watching the stars on a windy night while on a tall perch covered in the warm sensation of knowing where you’re going, who you’re going to, and how far you’re willing to go to get there over the rippling view of watching light bend at a molecular level all spiraling with the distinct flavour of peppermint and spearmint combined. It was an odd sound, but it wasn’t one he hated. The strange flavour was something he could do without, but the overall sound gave him an odd sense of peace-joy-mine. It was beautiful.

Looking over at Danny, Jason saw the sheer look of pride on their face, and it just made Jason fall even farther. He could admit it, to himself if no one else, that he’d fallen for his gorgeous neighbor with the wonderful fighting skills, mysterious past, good cooking skills, and the beautiful behavior around children. They were stunning, marvelous, funny, and loyal. He had always been able to feel something in his chest screaming in joy every time he was around his wonderful neighbor, but he’d ignored it before now.

~`~`~

Talia smiled darkly as she went over the plans her people had leaked to her about Father’s plan. It was wonderfully stupid, leaving her plenty of room to separate her precious child from the group to keep him away from the devastation and destruction that would surely be wrought upon the League when this plan went through. She checked the date for the kidnapping against the schedule in her mind, causing her smile to grow in darkness and size. Yes, that date would be perfect for the maximum destruction of Father’s ways.

She composed herself before turning back to Simon, who’d brought her the wonderful news. “Wait until the prisoners are with Father and you will not be missed before activating Plan Ouroboros. Alert the others. Thank you for bringing this to my attention and following my orders.” She received a simple nod as Simon headed out, but she considered that enough, knowing that her orders would be spread among all of her followers.

Turning, she walked deeper into her quarters. There was a small window of time for her to prepare everything that she would need to make Father’s devastating plan immediately backfire, but she was still confident that it would happen. All she needed to do was finally reach out to an old friend of hers as soon as Ra’s decided where he was going to imprison their loved ones. Truly, nothing could be as wonderful or exciting as this. Then again, her friend always was one prone to surprising things. Oh how interesting this was turning out to be.

~`~`~

Ra’s Al Ghul was excited. Everything was proceeding according to plan. Finally, he would have all the tools necessary to rule the world for all of eternity. All that was left was a little kidnapping, a little torture, and a little bit of breaking a civilian with wonderful connects, and he would have what was rightfully his. He couldn’t wait.

Taglist: @blacksea21090 @chrysanthemum9484 @samgirl98 @may-rbi @justwannaseesomebrozawa @serasvictoria02 @treepainting @fluffykster @enderglace @sigdexae @persephoneblackrose @angelofsongsoteira @lazy-bouqet @littlefeather345 @icedbluesoul @autumnwulf @thefearfullone @alixanterm @skulld3mort-1fan @dulceringo @vidimirrayne @betinaplayingwriter @the-legal-shipper @currant-owo @crystalqueertea @fisticuffsatapplebees @bugaboo25 @dannyphantomphan @botwadtict @kyrianclawraith @mnemovoid @lyra689 @demiourgias @d4ydr34min9 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @emeraldcorpral @bobred18 @emergentpanda-blog @apointlessbox @pastalavistamf @v-inari @shadow-otaku20 @hellomygay

79 notes · View notes

xknivesandpensx · 1 year

Text

Like Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter 3

Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart?

Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here.

And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love

The air held a slight trace of humidity, the wooded area retaining a distinctive earthy scent. Large pools of water persisted from the night’s rain, leaving little to no dry places along the trail. Trampling feet splashed their way along (although many skirted around) as they followed Hagrid through the dense forest. The overall atmosphere appeared dreary and downright mind-numbing. But Draco got a feeling the latter had nothing to do with the weather.

Sleep evaded him for the majority of the night, leaving him far more temperamental, almost coming off capriciously brisk in attitude depending on who decided to speak to him. Especially, given the reason he tossed and turned so frequently.

He still refused to admit it, even to himself.

Draco forced his attention to focus on his present surroundings. The uneven ground, the sound of endless chatter, how he absolutely hated this class.

If able, he’d erase it entirely from his schedule. Dropping the elective came to mind several times, but far be it for him to attempt something different.

Arithmancy seemed too difficult, his grades hardly hitting spectacularly high to begin with, the theoretical nature of Study of Ancient Runes lacked practicality, he couldn’t get away by guessing there, and he wouldn’t dare take Muggle Studies based on standards alone.

So, that left Care for Magical Creatures and Divination, which he easily managed to glide through if his predictions came off morbid enough to allow Trelawney to go off on a random digression.

During any other lesson, he’d sit at a table, attempting to pay attention only for his thoughts to wonder elsewhere. Here he stood on his feet, tempted to roll his eyes regularly.

In addition to their teacher, having the Gryffindors join the Slytherins for yet another year irritated him greatly. Harry eagerly rose to defend Hagrid, Ron commenting along in added agreement. And of course, Hermione never kept her mouth closed on the matter either.

Second class of their first day and he already felt ready to go back to bed.

They had to feed Blast-Ended Skrewts. The creatures smelled like rotting fish and their appearance came across as some disformed scorpion or shell-less lobsters. He still didn’t see the point of them, their usefulness a mystery. The dull quality of Hagrid’s sessions were anticipated by now, but raising those things over the course of the year, he thought it nothing less than a waste of time.

He purposely stayed a short distance from the crates, of which a couple of students circled, unwilling to grab a handful of frog livers in hope they’d take to eating them.

Plus, the only open space happened to be right next to Hermione. He still felt a little off whenever he caught himself looking at her. Being directly near her seemed far from appealing.

All the same, his eyes gravitated towards her despite his preference to look anywhere else, almost lured in her direction. He watched, for no more than a few fleeting seconds, how her cheeks dimpled when a smile overtook and laughter rang from her lips.

Ron said something to cause the reaction. Probably another stupid joke or funny comment, nothing Draco assumed took many brain cells to come up with.

His attention veered after Dean let out a complaint of getting his hand singed, his arm retracting swiftly from the Blast-Ended Skrewt’s reach.

Lavender too announced her grievances, sounding disgusted by them and regardless of Hagrid’s attempt to explain the creature’s general nature, Draco let out a huff, sauntering a couple of paces forward.

“Well, I can certainly see why we’re trying to keep them alive.” Sarcasm rolled off his tongue effortlessly, tone set in a typical degree of harshness. “Who wouldn’t want pets that can burn, sting and bite all at once? They are ugly little things, aren’t they?”

“Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,” Hermione snapped, unable to ignore the rudeness of his comment, even if she agreed in means of their harmful propensities.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Draco mentioned, his signature sneer in place. The butterflies in his stomach irked him so much he forced out another bout of cutting words. “But then again, you’re always so eager to stick your nose in other people’s business. Perhaps you want some attention. Waving your hand in the air doesn’t seem to quite cut it anymore, does it? To think you’re so desperate for it, you’re even seeking mine now? It’s quite sad, really.”

Why he chose to go there specifically, he’d never know. Maybe it had something to do with the fact of how she kept snatching his attention and not the other way around.

Hermione’s face grew hot under his scrutiny. His frosty assertion hit in a rather demeaning fashion, she found herself unable to produce a hasty comeback.

“Nothing to say, Granger? That’s a first,” he jeered. “Probably best to keep it up and spare us the torture.” There was something, a particular aspect he noticed which gave him reason to pause. Did the warm weather cause her cheeks to appear flushed, either that or a blush bloomed before his very eyes.

The emotional display caught him off guard, but it mostly sent a wave of confusion to overtake. Draco suddenly became very aware of the students around them, many eager for him to continue, others staring him down. Sure, Hagrid’s observation remained on the crates, so what? Did they expect him to further antagonize her or possibly her silence mystified them as well?

Crabbe and Goyle were a step behind, as per usual, hovering too close. Normally, he’d keep going, persistent in his hounding until satisfied (if not interrupted beforehand).

Hermione took a breath, for once she wished to act like a child and shove him in the chest. Clearly, for the sake of her self-respect and dignity, she restrained. “If anyone’s in need of acknowledgement it’s obviously you.”

“Oh, please. I’m a Malfoy, as if I need any help in that area.” Honestly, at this point he almost wanted either Harry or Ron to intervene. At least then he’d have reason to break their bickering spat before it escalated. Luckily, liberation from their conflict came quickly.

“Enough bickerin’ you two,” Hagrid interjected, finally noticing the lack of students around him as he appeared rather busy attending to his Skrewts. “We’re in the middle of class, are we not? Now ev'ryone gather round.”

Grateful for the escape, Hermione hurried to rejoin the others.

What a great comeback. What she wouldn’t give to stop herself from feeling anything towards him. She was only thankful he hadn’t come even closer, then she might’ve gone all wide-eyed like Ginny used too around Harry.

As Hermione went past a group of Slytherin girls, she felt a pair of hands collide with her arm, shoving her off balance. A loud splash muffled a surprised gasp as a rush of cold, murky water made contact. The puddle sunk surprisingly deep, soaking much of her clothing.

“You did that on purpose,” Hermione coughed out, a bit of water still lodged in her lungs. She went to push herself upright only to feel a sharp wrench of pain in her wrist as her fingers sunk into the wet dirt.

Pansy hovered over her, a satisfied grin on her face. “I don’t know what you mean. It was a complete accident.”

Hermione turned red with embarrassment once an eruption of laughter sounded, it froze her in place for a moment far too long. It shouldn’t surprise her to see Draco chucking alongside everyone else, though she couldn’t know he practically had to compel it out of his throat.

Not because he particularly felt bad about joining in. He simply wanted it to feel normal, to laugh until his ribs hurt from the hilarity of it all.

“A Mudblood in the mud. Exactly where you should be, if you ask me,” he attempted to add, yet not a single ounce of satisfaction registered.

“You’re going to regret saying that, Malfoy!” Ron advanced, soon held back by Dean and Seamus. Of course, he witnessed Pansy’s part but he thought twice about lunging at a girl. He was, however, more than willing to tackle Draco. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Harry rushed over, after giving Draco a rather unpleasant look, and extended his hand to Hermione. She slipped into him after being pulled up, leaving traces of dirt on his uniform. “You okay?”

“You mean besides being totally humiliated?” she asked almost angerly. Hermione unlatched herself from his arms and ran her fingers through her hair, frowning at the mess.

Draco became deaf to Hagrid’s voice nearly booming in the background the moment he spotted a glassy reflection of tears in her eyes (not that she’d let herself cry in front of everyone) as Harry attempted to help wipe away the mud from her face. Ron complained in a grumble off to the side, though he appeared hesitant to touch her, almost unhappy Harry managed to first.

Guilt slammed into Draco’s chest seconds later, an incessant, nagging throb beating so apparent it caused him to lose all sense of a smile. Never had he felt bad about making fun of anyone. A tiny part of his mind even started to whisper some vague drivel about apologizing for his callous behavior.

As if he’d ever.

Next thing he knew, Hagrid sent Hermione and Harry back to the castle to clean up minutes before class itself ended. And if he believed eating would satisfy his hollow stomach, he was rather mistaken. Lunch came next and not only did he not see Hermione, his hunger disappeared completely. Even the sweets and cakes he received in the morning from his parents, all of which he couldn’t wait to enjoy later on, lost their appeal.

He heard from behind, as Harry explained Hermione’s absence to Ginny in a somewhat hushed tone, about how she went to Madam Pomfrey for her wrist then straight to the library. Apparently, she wished to avoid any probable mockery from her fellow classmates. Fred and George got a little rowdy about it, otherwise Draco stopped listening.

All in all, the very fact of not receiving detention for calling Hermione a Mudblood in class worked out well in his favor. Hagrid noticed, but he got out before any reprimanding happened, not that he couldn’t inform Snape. Draco very much doubted the possibility.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Goyle asked, noticing the way he pushed his food around on his plate instead of taking a bite.

“Shut up, Crabbe,” he impertinently rejoined, not paying any mind to who spoke to him at all, his temper already tampered with too much for the day.

“That wasn’t me,” Crabbe muttered, reaching over for a piece of chicken. His arm nearly knocked his cup over, threatening to spill its contents across the table.

“Like it matters.” He provided a glare, daring him to say another word. When the two settled on their meal once more, Draco took a sip of pumpkin juice.

He usually looked forward to the hour break in between classes, but his mind kept hounding him with more nonsense. Draco could practically hear his father chastising him for undergoing the slightest implication of guiltiness.

Specifically, when it centered on someone Muggle-born.

He glanced at the bruise he received for unintentionally eavesdropping. Maybe Lucius cut above severe punishments, but he never shied away from harsh reminders. And he didn’t need another.

Pansy sat across from them, her brows furrowing from his somewhat unusual behavior. “Why are you in a mood? I thought you’d be happy.”

As if she specifically mortified Hermione for his benefit. Knowing Pansy, perhaps that was her precise motivation. Though in truth, she naturally detested Hermione and likely took the opportunity when it came.

“I’m completely thrilled, can’t you tell?” he asked, a thin level of exasperation clinging to his voice. Draco pushed his plate aside. “I’m going to the common room. Alone.” He stressed the last word, forcing Pansy to sit back down.

The last thing he sought was her company or anyone else’s for that matter. Leaving the Great Hall, he passed Professor Moody along the way, taking note on the way his artificial eye followed him until he crossed into the hallway.

He got the impression their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher didn’t see him in a very high light. He knew those types of looks all too well, at least the readable one from his good eye.

Draco shook off the notion and kept a steady pace, intent on avoiding the very direction of the library. He didn’t want to see Hermione or even think about her, so how did he find himself walking past shelves of books mere minutes later?

#dramione #hermione granger #draco malfoy #harry potter #the goblet of fire #slightly shorter but i finally finished it #not too sure how i feel about how this chapter turned out tho XD #nice comments are always appreciated #sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes

11 notes · View notes