#and no. he's not a keeper but a seeker with awful eyes

[lily-ohfally]

Emotes of my WoL's I made for me and my friend's server!

From top left to bottom right: Waga, Lily, Nanami Y'aela, Lobster, Risé

[uchi-mochi]

You flatter me (Sebastian Sallow x Slytherin!Reader)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : - ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ - : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Summary; After joining the Slytherin quidditch team it is finally time for your first Hogwarts house party with Sebastian. Overal just two idiots who are in love <3

Warnings: mentions of Alcohol, not proofread

Word count: 2k

Requests are open!

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : - ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ - : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

House parties at Hogwarts held a strong legacy for themselves - and with every new party the students tried to out do the last one. Every house was competitive when it came to this.

Quidditch had always been a good reason to host one such party - so when the sport was reintroduced in your 'sixth' year it was only a matter of time before all hell would break lose in the common rooms.

The Slytherin quidditch team had a few open spots, Imelda Reyes had practically begged you to join the try outs, specifically for the role of seeker.

"Y/n L/n." Imelda Reyes said in a stern voice. "You have beat literally all of my damn trials in record time. You know a seeker is all about insight and speed!"

You pondered on your decision. Ranrok was gone and the ancient magic depository laid safe under Hogwarts. You would finally have some time to yourself - developing your flying hobby didn't sound too bad. 

"Besides, I heard a certain troublemaking someone is going to try out for Beater" Imelda teased.

"Very funny Imelda" you said, rolling your eyes at her. She playfully hit your side with her elbow. "Fine, I'll try out for seeker. But you owe me fudge from Honeydukes"

Naturally, you crushed the try outs and landed yourself the role of Seeker. Your competition couldn't even come close to your skills on a broom.

You sat down on the tribunes next to Ominis (who had came to cheer you and Sebastian on), opening a bag of fudge Imelda had given you. The tryout for Beater was next. Imelda was right, Sebastian was taking part in the tryouts. You had seen his surprised face when you entered the pitch - you had told him about your hesitation to join the team, but not about your change of mind.

Sebastian's skills on a broom were quite impressive. You watched in awe as he skillfully dodged and countered the incoming bludgers. He was even cocky enough to fly past you, giving you a wink.

You weren't surprised when he emerged victorious, becoming the newest Slytherin beater.

The only tryouts that were left was for the role of Keeper. Sebastian sat down next to Ominis and you after he had changed out of his quidditch gear.

"Didn't know you were going to try out for Seeker" Sebastian said as he reached for your bag of fudge. "Count me surprised"

You put the bag away from Sallows reach. "Hey, that's my well earned bribe!"

"Imelda had to bribe you to get you on the Slytherin team?" Ominis chuckled. "You're easily bribed, good to know"

Sebastian was taller than you, the difference being even larger than it was in your fifth year. He reached over for the bag and (much to your dismay) snatched a piece of the candy. "You know, I wanted to surprise you by making it on the Slytherin team. But I suppose it's even a better surprise to have my lucky charm right on the field with me"

-

Your first quidditch match was against Ravenclaw. "A good warm-up for our future matches" Imelda had said. Ravenclaw wasn't the strongest opponent you could have been out against - and you were very grateful for that. Despite your rigorous training you were nervous.

"Ready folks?" Imelda asked the team, though she didn't wait for an answer as she flew onto the air. You were all lined up for the opening ceremony, having practiced an elegant yet intimidating entrance. "I want to make them shiver before we even score a single point" Imelda had said. "Besides, it boosts morale"

The trick seemed to have worked; Imelda had scored three times before Ravenclaw did. The score was currently 80-30 for Slytherin. This gave you a slight bit of breathing room to find the golden snitch.

You scanned the playing field and spotted a glint of gold across the other side of the stadium. Sebastian flew to your side, hitting an incoming bludger away from you. You muttered a quick 'thanks'

"Seb!" You yelled. "Keep their Seeker busy for just a minute!"

"Got it!"

You flew down into the pitch, focused on that same glint of gold. Sebastian had kept his word; the Ravenclaw Seeker was far behind you, desperately avoiding the incoming bludgers. He was having a hard time avoiding Sebastian's aggressive plays - even being almost knocked out of his broom. Despite how much you loved besting Sallow in a duel, you made a mental note for yourself to never make him an enemy on the quidditch field.

The snitch was only a few centimetres out of reach as it flew under the tribunes.You upped the speed of your broom, skillfully avoiding every pillar and support that came your way. The snitch flew away from under the tribunes, out in the open air. You could spot the Ravenclaw seeker flying towards the snitch from the other side of the pitch. Sebastian had been knocked to the side and put off balance, disabling him for a few seconds. 

"40-80 for Ravenclaw!"

If you didn't act now, the match would be lost. Steering your broom slightly sideways you cut the snitch of - catching it directly in your hand just before the Ravenclaw seeker could catch it.

You quickly flew above the pitch, proudly displaying the golden snitch to the audience.

"150 points to Slytherin!"

-

You walked alongside your quidditch team into the common room, cheers erupting out of your fellow Slytherins as they swarmed around you. The common room had been decorated with all sorts of green decoration, most of them displaying the Slytherin symbol. Snacks, jugs of butterbeer and bottles of all sorts of alcohol were placed on the tables, both muggle and wizard music playing through the room.

You could spot a few shades of reds and yellows amongst the sea of robes - Merlin knows how they got in here.

Sebastian held hold of your waist, hoisting you into the air then spinning you around. You yelped in surprised at his antics, which quickly turned into a laugh.

"To our new Slytherin Seeker and Beater!" Imelda yelled as she raised her fist into the air, more cheers echoing through the room.

"What was that for!" You laughed as Sebastian put you down onto the ground again, playfully elbowing his side.

"What, can't show off our new quidditch legend?"

"Oh please, don't spare yourself the credit"

The crowd slowly dispersed over the common room as the party officially started.

"Care for a drink, Sallow?"

-

One butterbeer had turned into two (alongside a shot of something you didn't know the name of). Your head felt just slightly fuzzy.

Though that couldn't be said for a quite a bit of your fellow Hogwarts students. You had counted at least three brawl fights between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin this evening - which was very entertaining to watch. However, Imelda had promptly kicked them out of the common room.

Sebastian had left for just a moment to grab another drink, leaving you in the company of Imelda and Natty.

"Way to steal the spotlight today!" Natty said enthusiastically as she patted you on the back, holding a glass of butterbeer in her other hand. "I bet that Ravenclaw seeker is going to be sulking for at least a week"

You chuckled at her comment.

"I knew I was right about you" Imelda quipped in as she chugged down another shot. Merlin, that girl could hold her alcohol. "If you keep this up I'll happily buy you all the fudge your heart could ever desire"

"Look forward to our win streak then, Imelda"

You scanned the room for Sebastian. He had been gone for a while now. You spotted chatting with Ominis across the room from you, pouring him a glass of butterbeer. He had definitely gotten taller over the summer - and oh dear, all the quidditch practice had really made him more muscular. You knew Sebastian was handsome, but had he always looked this good in his white button up shirt and those rolled up sleeves?

Imelda followed your line of sight. "Admiring Sallow now, aren't we?"

You whipped your head away from his direction, embarrassed that you got caught.

"Oh please, it doesn't take a lot to notice how obviously the two of you like eachother"

You shot Natty a pleading look in an attempt to get her to back you up, but all she did was shrug.

"Although I have to admit, seeing the two of you pining over eachother has become one of my favorite past time hobbies, it's about damn time one of you confessed to eachother"

You had harbored a crush on Sebastian ever since the trip the two of you made to Hogsmeade at the beginning of your fifth year - his strong wit, flirty comments and protective nature made you fall head over heels for the troublemaker. However, over the passing year your feelings and admiration for the boy had only grown.

"Don't tell me you're scared of asking a boy out on a date?"

"Shut it, Imelda!"

Natty laughed at your bickering. "You have taken down countless dark wizards Y/n!"

"And don't forget about the poachers"

You groaned. "Don't remind me". They were right. How did asking out a boy seem so much scarier than taking down dark wizards? You hid behind your hands, making Natty laugh as she pulled you against her side.

"Tough evening huh?"

You quickly turned around and came face to face with Sebastian Sallow. If your blush wasn't obvious already, it certainly was now. Imelda and Natty giggled at the sight. Imelda shot up from her seat in a hurry, pulling Natty along with her.

"Our turn to get a drink now!" Natty chirped as the two of them rushed off towards the snack table.

You sighed, internally screaming at the thought of Sebastian hearing your conversations. "you could say that, yeah"

Rather than sitting down, Sebastian held out his hand for you. "I haven't danced yet tonight. Care to indulge me?" Your face lit up, gladly taking his hand.

"I'd love too, Seb"

Sebastian eagerly pulled you with him onto the dance floor, laughter erupting from the both of you.

"Ever danced before?" Sebastian asked as he placed his hand on your waist, making you feel as if butterflies were flying through your stomach

"A few times" you said as Sebastian guided one of your hands to his shoulder. Your other hand was still intertwined with his.

"Well don't worry - I'll lead"

The current song ended, a more slow and romantic song taking it's place. The two of you gently swayed across the dancefloor. Merlin did he look gorgeous tonight. You started into his eyes which were full of love and adoration.

"You're a natural" Sebastian whispered as he gently twirled you around.

"You flatter me too much, Sallow"

"You're worthy of all the flattering in the world, L/n"

You couldn't contain your feelings for him anymore. You didn't know where you got the sudden boost in confidence from but it didn't matter. You let lose of Sebastian's hand and grabbed onto the colour of Sebastian's button up shirt, pulling him into a desperate kiss.

Sebastian needed no time react, pulling you closer against him - his free hand now placed in your hair. He kissed you back just as desperately. His lips were slightly chapped, the taste of butterbeer still evident on them. Your hand found it's way onto his cheek, gently cupping it making him deepen the kiss.

The two of you broke apart, gasping in need of air. "I've been waiting ages for you to do that" Sebastian whispered, letting out a shaky breath as he pulled you into another kiss, cheers erupting through the common room at the sight.

[umbralsound-xiv]

A Storm On The Horizon.

Khive quietly wanders between the trees, taking in the scent of the forest with a content sigh. Her steps were aimless - no true goal in mind, as she merely enjoyed the silence around her.

They had been tracking her for some time. Close enough to keep her just in sight, but far enough away that they couldn't be heard nor seen, the Keeper pulls away through the trees, away from the accompanying Raen and Midlander who remained hidden. "A fine night for a walk." The Keeper speaks as soon as his footsteps are loud enough to be heard, making every effort not to spook her.

Khive's ears swivel and twitch at the sound of footsteps, head rising and her feet coming to a halt as the Keeper draws her attention. A long pause lingers as she looks at him, eyes blinking in quick succession. "--Uh-.. It.. is." Her words are hesitant, ears drooping.

"No need to be alarmed, Khive." He flashes a smile, speaking in a soft tone as his hands raise in some disarming way. "I only came to talk. I don't mean you any harm at all!"

Khive notably becomes -more- alarmed upon hearing her own name from the stranger's lips, ears flattening and her feet slipping back a step to distance herself. "..W-who are you..? Why-.. why do you know my name..?"

"We--- I was sent by a friend!" He steps in closer to her, desperate to remain as amiable as possible. "We we just told to give you something, is all… He just wants to talk." At his word, a linkpearl is plucked from the hem of his glove, offered to her on the palm of his hand.

An involuntary crackle of lightning dashes across Khive's frame as he steps closer, widened eyes slowly sinking to his extended hand before snapping up to his face again - gaze lingering upon the red mark upon his face for a little longer than it really needs to in order to register it. Her hand hesitantly reaches outwards for his hand and the linkpearl.

He relinquishes the linkpearl without issue, keeping his distance as he'd noted the lightning dart about her frame. "See? No harm at all… He just wants to talk to you, is all!" He taps his ear, as a gesture to activate the linkpearl.

Khive glanced down at the linkpearl between her fingers, slowly moving it up to put it in her ear, pressing down. "..H-hello..?"

“… Hello, Khive.” Grymahtyn’s gravelly voice responded to her hesitant greeting, making her ears flatten. “.. You are involved with the black and blue haired, ice-wielding Seeker. You have been pulled into a situation I’d like for you to withdraw from.”

The Keeper simply waits patiently, unable to hear anything but Khive's side of the conversation.

"...Grymahtyn..?" Khive whispered, ears drooping wholly and her frame notably shrinking down at the confirmation of the very thing she had been in denial of. "..I-- I am. And.. I.. can't. You-.. you took my friends, Grym.. How-.. how can you be involved in such an awful thing..?" She whimpered.

“I took what belongs to me. And I am not -asking-, Khive. You will remove yourself from the situation, or I will have you removed.” Grymahtyn responded.

The Keeper slowly draws his lips into a line, brows lofted at Khive. He doesn't dare say anything whilst Grym is talking.

“..They’re -people-, Grym.. You– you don’t own people..” Khive frowned weakly, casting an anxious glance to the Keeper before her. “..Strym wouldn’t–..”

“I am not Strym.” Grymahtyn almost growled, silencing Khive mid speech. “Your closeness to him is the -only- reason I am giving you a chance to back away, so -do- it. I will not ask again.”

"Might… Might be better to do as he says, yeah…?" The Keeper speaks, arms outstretched. He beckons quietly with his hands, as the Midlander woman and the Raen slip from the trees, approaching to join him…

Khive remains oblivious to anyone else being around, merely offered a saddened, disappointed frown the Keeper’s way as she kept a brief silence. “… No.” She whispered, finally. “.. I won’t.”

Grymahtyn exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath before simply cutting the contact to Khive’s pearl, opting to activate the one connected to the people he had sent her way, instead. “.. Take her.” He ordered.

The Keeper sighs, a little deflated. "…We did try." He remarks to himself. As the Midlander and Raen slowly close in, the woman opts to speak up. "…Come quietly. We don't want to hurt you, yeah…?"

Khive flinches as another voice emits, hand dropping from the linkpearl as she spins around to face the Midlander - gaze catching the Raen, too. ".. N-no.." She whimpered, slowly trying to back away.

The Raen moves to intercept her, unsheathing his blade to widen his reach. "We're not asking anymore. If you won't get out of our way, we'll make you. Stop making this difficult!"

Lightning darts and crackles along Khive's frame, her body beginning to curl itself inward as her eyes slowly but surely began to brim with tears. "S-stay away from me!"

The Midlander sighs in frustration, unsheathing her sword and shield. "It would be so much easier if we just killed her." A sigh is given from her nose. "Last chance, lady! Most people don't even get one!"

The mere suggestion that her life is in danger makes the continous crackles that dance around her grow so much more volatile, eyes widened in absolute horror. In a split second decision, her hand darts up for her other ear and presses down against the linkpearl within, drawing a frightened breath to fill her lungs with air before she cries out a shrill, very, very frightened call. "--BEXY!"

---The linkpearl! Gods, i'd only just woken up... What is happening? Khive? She... She said she was going on a walk to the Shroud... The Shroud should be safe! What is happening?!

The sound of the linkpearl fumbles, as Bexy fights to activate it. "--Khive! What's happening? Where are you?" The sound of a door slamming is heard; the entrance to the Willows, no doubt. "KHIVE!"

The crackling does thankfully make them back off, each exchanging glances with the other. "Imhi'a, it's on you…!" The Midlander beckons, to which the Keeper draws his staff. "I did try, you know!" He calls back. Stone begins to rise up at Khive's feet, aiming to snare her!

Khive exhales a sharp breath as rock clings to her feet, her hands moving swiftly to rip her bow from her back as well as an arrow which she swiftly nocks and takes aim of the Keeper. With tears in her eyes, she cries out. “--D-don’t make me h-hurt you! P-please!” Her tone is -desperate-, spelling out her distaste for harming others quite clearly. She does not fire, yet.

"KHIVE!" Bexy yells down her pearl. The sound of footstep after footstep as she gave a mad dash through the trees sounded, listening for any response.

I don't know where she is! I don't... No. No, think, Bexy. She told you where she was going! No, no, not her! They don't get to touch her!

Imhi'a makes a face at Khive. "Easy now! Just… Just hold still! It won't hurt, i promise!" The Midlander however, grows impatient. The shield is aimed as a swipe to her head, regardless of whether it hit or not. "Roswitha!" The Raen barks. "We're not supposed to hurt her!"

Khive's grip of the arrow slips as the shield swipes at her head, possibly knocking the arrow off course as she lost her aim. With snared feet, the only way Khive can go from the impact is down. Lightning lashes out violently from her and strikes out in Khive's immediate vicinity, threatening to strike whoever is just a touch too close to her.

The sound of aether, then, as Bexy slipped through it. Her voice crackles as she call out again. "KHIVE, TALK TO ME!" More footsteps, running.

...I made it through the aether to the South Shroud. She said she'd walk the path near Buscarrons, and thankfully it's a path i know better than most. ...I've not heard anything since the first call. Gods, please be okay!

Lightning collides with Roswitha, launching her backwards against a tree with a thud. "---Fuck! Imhi'a, do something!" She coughs, causing the Raen to keep his distance. "She can't fight forever." He says, head inclined. "Hold her still, we can always put her out quietly."

Khive grips her bow with both hands and rams the end of it against the rock clinging to her feet, trying to break it to free herself. "L-leave me alone!"

Bexy no longer calls out. Sprinting through the sound of a thunderstorm, she keeps the pearl in her ear, as she traces the path Khive had told her she'd take…

"Stop yelling!" Imhi'a yells back at Khive, and repeats again quieter. "It's fine, it's fine! Promise it won't take long, we're just going to take you out of the way! We won't hurt you, we won't!" The rock begins to crawl up Khive's thighs…

The Keeper's yell makes Khive flinch, her ears gluing to her head and a frightened stare being sent his way - almost as if she was going to obey the demand.. Until the rock begins to crawl up her legs. "--N-no! NO! NO NO NO! H-HELP!" Khive's panicked scream almost echoes between the trees, her rising distress causing the aether swirling around her to expand further outwards and grow more and more volatile. She reaches for an arrow and awkwardly nocks it in her seated position, the bow being forced to be held sideways in order for her to take aim of the Keeper. "-L-LET ME GO-!"

"I said it will be FINE!" He half yells at her, staff outstretched as stone crawls further to her waist. "Stop yelling, and ju----HRRK!" His words are halted, as an arrow of ice pierces his neck with a gurgle. Words become a scream, calm, practised motions become a desperate flurry as he tries his best to dislodge the arrow. Roswitha stares in horror, climbing sharply to her feet. "…Kageyori? it's… It's ice…" She manages. The Raen glances around. "----Here? But this is the Shroud? Where is she?! Keep on your guard!"

Absolutely fucking not. They don't get to touch her. They don't get to hurt more people i love! Why are they here? Here in the Shroud? This is my home! My domain!

"Three hundred and thirty three." Bexy whispers to herself. Halfway up a tree, she narrows her gaze on the group, remaining out of sight… For now.

Khive's eyes widen at the sight of the ice arrow, relief welling over her. She awkwardly turns her body around in it's otherwise locked position to take aim of the ground between the Midlander's feet, lightning surrounding the arrow and clinging to the arrowhead before it's released - sparks flying upon impact in an attempt to down the Midlander anew.

The arrow sinks into Roswitha's calf with a scream, lightning making her body twitch and seize. Imhi'a finally loses the battle with the arrow, unable to dislodge it and heal himself, though he surely tried. He slumps into the floor near Khive's feet, as Kageyori turns, blade raised. "Where are you? Show yourself!" He calls out, waiting…

…Bexy leaps from one tree to the next; she'd counted them, seen their numbers - Only two remained. She lands a short distance from Khive, glaring as she rose to her full height. "I thought i made myself clear not to touch the people i love." She half hisses, tail batting at her heels.

A sob tears itself from Khive's throat as Bexy makes her appearance, her free hand moving to her quiver to retrieve a fresh arrow which she proceeds to nock with shaky fingers. While certainly relieved that Bexy found her, the initial fear has not quite worn off.

"It's her--- It's her!" Roswitha half panics, staggering as she nudges herself fowards. But this culminates in a sudden lunge for Bexy, sword outstretched and lunged towards her! Kageyori opts to keep his distance at first, skirting to the side and lunging towards her in kind with a swift swing of his katana.

...It was the assumption i'd drawn. There are, of course, any and all kind of bandits in the Shroud. There was no guarantee that it would have been them. But something told me it was. Even if it wasn't, their fate would have been the same!

Bexy watches as Roswitha closes the distance, wide-eyed. Dropping down into a crouch, far beyond waist level for the Midlander, Bexy opts to plunge her bow into her shoulder, using her upper body strength to drag her over Bexy and slam her into the ground. She's much too low for the Raen to strike her, but with Bexy down on the floor, he is now -ilms- from her, weapon ready to strike once more!

Khive stares between her tears and blurry gaze, not even managing to think before her body moves on its own. She uncharacteristically aims her nocked arrow for the Raen's skull, releasing it before she manages to have a single thought.

Having now turned her bow into a lengthy dagger, Bexy rips it from the Midlander's shoulder to plunge it into her throat, twice, for good measure. "Three hundred and thirty… Four…!" She turns, pointing it to where the Raen aught to be… But isn't. He lays slumped on his side at an awkward angle, unmoving. Bexy gives only a cursory glance as she notes the several ilm of arrow sticking almost perfectly out of his forehead, offering no arguement to his demise.

Only when the deed is done and Khive has a moment to assess what she had just done does she sink down, a weak whimper leaving her.

Bexy allows the silence to hang a little longer. Only when she's certain there's no others, that the threat is dismissed, does she disspiate her bow and get to removing the rock from Khive's legs, which comes away far easier now that there's no conjurer to keep it there. "Khive-- Are you hurt?" She asks, breaking away handfuls of stone.

Khive swallows her sobs, doing her utmost to keep her crackles to herself as Bexy begins to free her legs. "..H-hit me.. with.. the shield.." She manages, gesturing briefly to her head as she reached a hand down to aid in peeling the stone away. "..O-otherwise.. n-no.."

"…They're gone now. Gone and dead. You were right to call me… I'm so glad you did…" The stone is pulled, and Bexy notes as the lightning dances up her body. "…This is the Shroud. Why would they come all the way out here? Did they follow you?" Disbelief washes over her features as she shakes her head. "How could they? You were never seen!"

She was never seen! How... How could they...? ...How much do they know?

".. The K-Keeper.. s-said my name.." Khive's hand leaves the rock and reaches for her ear, plucking out the linkpearl Imhi'a had previously given her - holding it in Bexy's view. "..S-said.. a friend s-sent him.. and they w-wanted to talk.." Her ears glue to her skull, gaze shifting over to the Raen's body - causing her already pale face to grow just a touch paler before she redirects her gaze to Bexy.

Bexy meets Khive's gaze. Wordlessly, gloved fingertips reach to pluck the pearl from her palm. Her free hand seeks Khive's own, uncertain of her lightning, but not wishing to leave her without comfort. Her eyes follow to the Raen, noting the curl of red at his cheek. The linkpearl is activated… But Bexy doesn't yet speak, opting to listen.

A friend, she said. I think it to be anything but. I have a good idea of who is on the other end of this linkpearl. Talk to me, you bastard!

Khive allowed Bexy to take the pearl, any lightning that was near her hand being redirected with some effort on Khive's end as she grabs onto the offered hand - clinging to the offered comfort.

No voice emits from the other end, but the sudden activation from Khive's end makes Grymahtyn pause, lifting his head.. waiting.

Bexy slowly, almost steadily shoulders herself into Khive if she allowed it, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. A long, inhale is given… And a sigh, that spoke not of boredom or anger, but some simmering vengeance beneath it. "How many more. How many more will die by my hands before you finally get the message?"

Khive sinks against Bexy, burying her face against her to silence any stray sob that might attempt to leave her, the woman's entire frame trembling from the ordeal.

Grymahtyn listens, and scoffs, before his hand rises up to activate the end of his own linkpearl. "However many it takes until one of them kills you." He retorted, leaning back in his seat.

...He's so willing to throw his people away. It sickens me. Doesn't he care? Doesn't he value any of them?

"I've killed over three hundred. What's a hundred more? Two hundred?" A pause sees her scoff a small note of humor. "Coward. All your bodies and walls, and no one left to love you, and you still hide away from the world." The amusement dares to bubble over into the faintest laugh. "Did you get my message?" Regardless of her words to Grym, her comfort to Khive doesn't ease an ilm, head rested to her own as she gently traces her fingers along her opposite shoulder.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Grymahtyn raised a brow. "And where is the one you love? Your -beloved- sister? Behind -my- walls." A brief pause lingered, as a small huff left the Sea Wolf. "I did. You sure did a number on him.. A pity, that the consequences of your actions had to go out over Llaya, hm?"

"Behind your walls. -For now-." Bexy retorts. If there was any ilm of fear in her words, she never showed it. "Consequences i'm sure Sayuri would gladly endure with laughter, if she knew the reason for them. You've hurt her before. If it wasn't this reason, you'd find another. That's how people like you operate."

I'm under no illusion that what i've done will cause Sayuri to suffer. But he'd hurt her anyway. I know that. We both know that. So if it's because of my actions, because i am hurting him and his people that she suffers, i don't think she would be so upset for it.

A small chuckle of amusement emit from Grymahtyn's end. "-If- she knew. Which she won't." A small pause lingered, as he considered his next words. "Llaya seems confident about your ability to get to her, but I will show her the error of her false hope. These are the walls she will remain behind, you will never see her again."

"How many of you are dead again?" A small pause, as she allowed him to think. "How long, until the chain of command ruptures? Until people won't want to go out for fear me me finding them, and sending you back what's left? You say Sayuri feels confident. Even in the face of you. And it's true, Grym. That she fears you more than -almost- everything. So. How certain are you that i won't get her back, knowing that even by your admission, her confidence in the matter still stands?"

"Depends. Did you kill the three I sent to retrieve Khive?" The question is given casually, without a single sign of care for the lives lost. "I assume you did." He responds, to his own question - while ignoring bits of hers. "It's a confidence I will enjoy breaking." A pause, then, and a shift in his tone as he replies. "There is no -almost-. She fears me the most, and I will make sure that remains the case."

Almost. And perhaps, a few moons ago, Grym was the thing Sayuri feared the most. But it was the instant she decided to go back for Eir that it rang false. She fears losing Eir more than she fears Grym. ...It was only after she had left, i had learned the depths of the love she had for him. ...And in turn... What i would do, to keep her safe.

"I am her sister, am i not? I know her better than anyone. Better than you, in any case. -Almost-." A pause. "But you don't frighten me. You can beat my sister. Hurt my friends. Hunt me until the end of the realm, and i will still not be afraid of you. You are but blood, bone, and organs. And i know where to aim. And -when- i get Sayuri back, i will teach her that you are nothing to be afraid of."

"You -will not-." He snapped, irritation clear in his voice. "Perhaps I should pay her a visit? Let you listen to just how bloody scared she is of me, hm? But you won't get to talk to her, no.. You'd just -listen-."

"Go on. Do it. You've hurt her a thousand times before, and i've heard her scream in every way imaginable. You don't scare me, Grym. Go on. Bring the pearl to her. Hurt her, if you must; you'd find another reason anyway. She just knows her sister is listening. She knows i'm coming." Another faint laugh, then. "Your grasp is already starting to slip, Grym. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."

I don't want him to hurt her, but i know he'll do it anyway. I'd much rather not listen, regardless. But she knows i'm here. I'm coming for her. ...I want so badly to get under his skin. To peel back the layers and find every nerve. Unable to do that with my ice, with my weapons... I must do it with my words, instead.

A loud scraping noise emit from what was undoubtedly a chair being pushed back, as Grymahtyn left his seat and walked for the door as he spoke. "So you think. But you haven't heard the scream she did when I had her -beloved- killed in front of her." The sound of a door opening and shutting follows, footsteps slowly making their way.. somewhere. "I have broken her before, and those cracks remain. I will break her again."

"But you won't break her, Grym. You can't. Not anymore. Only that which she's afraid of most could achieve such a feat. And it's no longer you. It will never again, be you."

“Oh, but I -will-. I have been her biggest fear since the sun we first met, and she was no less afraid when she came back here. And on the off-chance that you’re right, and such is no longer the case? I will remedy it.” Irritation clung to Grymahtyn’s tone as he spoke, seemingly not quite enjoying the thought that there might be something else that had taken his place. “It doesn’t matter that you’re looking for her, that little flame of hope she has will be extinguished once you -fail- to get her, and she once again realises that she has -no one-.”

"You aren't listening to me, Grym. What is this, denial? Or am i just telling you all the things you don't want to hear?" Bexy's tone remained calm, though held a mocking edge. Her gaze traces over Khive as she spoke, gauging how she was doing.

...He has to know. He has to know he's lost. Only a madman would keep going at this point. Even if he did manage to kill me, i have done lasting damage. ...Even if i failed to save her, i have full faith that Sayuri would manage to win her own freedom in the end.

"Then we have something in common." Grymahtyn responded curtly, his annoyance quite apparent. "Tell me, then. What does she -possibly- fear more than me? What could possibly be worse than the things I have done to her, hm?"

Khive remains leaned against Bexy, body still trembling and her hands cupped over her mouth to keep herself quiet. The crackles which danced across her body had begun to ease, becoming weaker and less frequent as the comfort Bexy offered her slowly but surely calmed her.

"I'm listening. You're just wrong." Bexy retorts, matter-of-factly. "You're too stupid to understand, and particularly special case of stupid to think i'd simply tell you. I know her better than anyone, Grym." Bexy's lips part so wide into a smile that it could almost be heard over the linkpearl. "At least i have the good grace to know my sibling well."

The footsteps came to an abrupt halt, a prolonged silence lingering on Grymahtyn's end. A sharp sigh of an exhale broke his silence. "I see Khive has spoken of things she -shouldn't-." The last word left him with what could almost be considered a threatening growl. Luckily, Khive is unable to hear it. "Don't speak of matters you know -nothing- about."

Bexy dares to laugh down the linkpearl. "Oh, did i hit a nerve? I'm not sure what's worse. That you're so dense you can't possibly fathom what's happening, or that you do, and you're choosing to live in denial. I may not know much of the situation, but at least between the two of us, i have the capacity to learn."

Growing notably more and more irritated the longer the call goes on, Grymahtyn continues his walk - footsteps emitting anew. "And you are delusional enough to believe I will let her slip through my fingers again." He quipped. ".. Enough pain, and I'm sure I can make Llaya tell me herself. Khive, however, aught to keep her bloody mouth shut." His words once again held a threatening tone, as if he hoped Khive was listening in to the conversation.

He won't let her slip through his fingers, no. I'll pry them away from her, no matter how tightly he holds her.

Bexy simply sighs. "I tire of trying to beat the words into your head. Perhaps i'll have the pleasure of doing it in person, one sun. You've lost, Grym. It's simply a matter of time."

Rustling follows shortly after Bexy's words, a loud sound emitting as the linkpearl almost seem to have been dropped. It's followed by a loud crackle as Grymahtyn furiously stomps upon it, breaking it beneath his boot. He was certainly done with the conversation.

"Hah!" Bexy calls out in victory, opting to discard the linkpearl onto the grass, turning her full attention to Khive, where her demeanor shifts. "We shouldn't linger here. Can you stand, Khive?" A pause. "Are… You alright?"

...I've annoyed him enough for this. But this isn't my priority, now. Khive... She's uninjured, at least relatively. But she seems... Shaken, still. They were looking for her. It's only now i realise that she'd killed someone, and... I don't ever remember her doing so before.

Khive's hands move up to wipe away the tears that clung to her cheeks, sniffling faintly. "..I-.. I should be able to.." She manages, ears drooping. "..I-.. I d-don't know.."

Slowly standing, Bexy offers her gloved hands out for Khive to take and join her. Her gaze drifts briefly to the Raen who lay a few fulms from them. "…Was he your first?"

Khive grabs the offered hand and begins to stand with Bexy's help, swaying a little unsteadily initially but managing to find her balance. Her gaze lowers, refusing to look the Raen's way. "..S-second.."

Bexy gently reaches to bring her index to Khive's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet her eyes. "…If it wasn't you, it would have been me. There is no shame to be had in defending yourself… But that doesn't mean you're not allowed to be upset. You took a life. It weighs heavy. But that you feel that weight means you know the importance of it."

Khive's head tilts at the guidance of Bexy's finger, gaze lifting up to meet hers. A soft whimper left her, her body slouching and tail tucking closely to her legs. "..I p-panicked.." She whispers. "..I d-didn't want him to h-hurt you.."

"…And he didn't. He didn't, Khive. I am unharmed, because of you." She pauses, gaze briefly flicking to him. "…Do you want to do something for him? It… Helps. For some people. Adelle plants flowers. I write poetry."

"..I-.. I wouldn't know.. what to do.." Her head dips just a touch, should Bexy let it. "..T-thank you.. for coming.."

...I could think of something. I will think of something. Gods, Khive... You killed for me. I never asked you to, and i would surely be hurting far more now had you not have. But... I have my own gratitude for it.

"…Of course. I wouldn't have left you to your fate. You know this. You…" Bexy trails, hesitating. "…I know you have seen me do less pleasant things to people. But these are the things i do out of love. Because i want my people, the people i care for… Safe, at all costs."

"..I do know, s-still.. A thank you is the l-least I can give.." Khive fought to display a smile, as small as it was. "I.. know you have your r-reasons.. I may n-not know them, b-but I know you h-have them.. I will not j-judge you for it."

"I… Appreciate that. I… Have only ever had the best intentions for those dear to me." In some quiet consideration, Bexy eventually asks, "…Do you believe in the Twelve, Khive?"

Khive's head sinks into a small nod. ".. Nymeia."

"Then… When they are home, and this has all passed. When the roads are safer… We will go. Together. We will bring some small offering for the Raen. He was our enemy, yes. But he deserves to be remembered."

Khive manages a weak smile, even if concern laces it. ".. It-.. might.. bring trouble.." She admits, ears drooping.

"Trouble?" Bexy asks. "How? Though i doubt much it will stop us. Unless you'd rather we didn't go."

"..The.. remnants of my old company.." A small sigh leaves her. "..I want to go, I'm just.. fearful of attracting them to us.."

"…I understand." Bexy nods slowly, briefly settling a hand on Khive's shoulder. "…You'll be safe with me. You can bring a cloak. Conceal yourself. And if not, and the worst happens… I will get you home."

".. Thank you, Bexy."

"…You're quite welcome, Khive." A warm smile takes her lips, as she tilts her head. "…Shall we go home?"

Khive nods weakly, gaze remaining on Bexy - as if trying to blatantly ignore the corpses to their side. If she can't see them, they're not there.

...Home. I only hope that my home remains as it is. A safe haven. A sanctuary. Gods help them all if that's where they turn their gaze next.

[yzeltia]

Handed Down from Stone

Chapter 3: Etched in Citrine

Characters: Y'lem Tia, Y'zel Tia, U'rahn Nuhn, Violet Fisher, Jannie Eyradoux

Rating: T for Tia

Notes: None

-Sharlayan 1560-

Y'zel yawned then rubbed his eyes as he slumped back into his father's chest.

"Getting tired already? I thought you were big enough to stay up late for the meteor shower," Y'lem Tia chuckled, swaying his tail in the grass as he checked on the lowered telescope next to them.

"I'm not falling asleep. I can stay up," the boy protested in a near mumble. "Maybe I can have some coffee," the young Tia asked, reaching for his father's thermos.

"Noooo you don't. There's cocoa for you," the Seeker scolded, pushing his son's cup into the grasping hand, "You can have coffee when you're a Nuhn."

"But daddy, you're not a Nuhn."

Y'lem grimaced then shoved a marshmallow into his boy's mouth. "That's beside the point. I'm the dad and I make the rules."

Y'zel tried to let out an "aww," but with his mouth filled it sounded something more akin to a distressed poroggo.

"Now. While we wait, why don't you tell me what that one is," Y'lem asked, pointing up into the sky.

Y'zel munched on his marshmallow then swallowed as he pointed where his father had, zigzagging between five stars. 

"That's the Fury's Spear! She lives in a beautiful ice palace made by Mephina, and smites all her enemies," the boy answered miming a spear throw before making a whooshing noise followed by a little pretend scream.

Y'lem laughed then pat his boy's head. "Not quite, but close. Halone carved her palace out of the moonbeams that Mephina gave to her. They worked together. And just as the Fury administers justice, she also is capable of the same love and mercy as her sister."

"Oh…"

"Find another."

Y'zel looked around, ears fluttering as he tried to make sense of the stars above. "Um…there," he pointed out, finger circling around for stars before flowing downward to four more points with a "whoosh."

"Good. What is it?"

"The Scholar's Ewer. Everything anyone has ever and will ever think of flows out of it…it flows endlessly into aether through Nymeia's loom and back…kinda like the lifestream?"

"A good example, yes," the boy's father praised.

"I was going to be Y'meia if I wasn't a Tia…"

Y'lem's ears perked at the boy's revelation and asked, "How did you come to know that?"

"Uncles Saru'a and Saru'to gave me some of mommy's old journals to read…"

The man sighed and stroked over his son's ears, looking to the sky. "That is correct. Your mother very reverently paid Her respect."

"...but why am I not Y'thaliak Tia? That's what you wanted rrright," the boy inquired, pressing into his father's large hand as he pet him.

Y'lem smiled. "Because I wanted to honor your mother and her family for bringing you into the world. Just like your uncles bare your grandmother's name, I gave you Zel's. You are both Keeper and Seeker after all."

"Oh…thank you…"

"Hmm?"

"For making sure I will always have mommy arrround."

The man paused, then closed his eyes and hugged his boy tight with one arm before hearing him gasp.

"Look! Look daddy! Look they're falling!"

Y'lem followed his son's excited pointing, watching as the meteors began to glitter through the sky, ears perking up in awe. Together they watched, little Y'zel excitedly bouncing as more and more streaked across the sky until he suddenly stopped. Looking down, Y'lem found his boy, not asleep, but with his hands clasped together and muttering.

"Wishing for something?"

"Yeah…"

"What are you wishing for?"

"I'm wishing that the Spinner will make me a big strong Nuhn so you'll be proud of me someday!"

Y'lem lowered his as he frowned. His dream for his son seemed all too well ingrained in the boy. As Y'zel reached for the telescope, the man caught him with both arms and gave him a firm hug. "I will always be proud of you. Nuhn or not…" he whispered, holding him with a little rock until the boy settled in and passed out on his shoulder from the late hour and excitement.

-The Dusk Vigil, the Midst of the Dragonsong War–

"Y'zel! Buddy! Pick a card! Any carrrd," U'rahn begged nervously, a fearful purr escaping him as frozen zombies started to come from every direction.

"I'm trying…just need to draw and….here! The Ewer,," Y’zel called out, holding up the card to bless the Warrior, hoping for the best.

U'rahn let out a breath of relief before feeling an excess of aether hit him. His face turned green, and soon he was on his knees, axe sliding away from him as the aether-deficient Seeker got sick.

"Sorry! Sorry," Y'zel whimpered while Violet pushed past him, stepping in front of U'rahn to scatter bullets into the approaching hoard.

"For fucks sake! Why did you come as a damned Astrologian if you don't know your fucking spells," the gunslinger shouted, kicking the Seeker on the ground in an attempt to get it all out of him so he could rejoin the battle.

"I-I just really liked their aesthetic" Y'zel responded meekly, tossing a healing cantrip U'rahn's way.

"Field practice is an excellent way to improve one's abilities; however, perhaps this wasn't the best timing for a position that requires much more practical knowledge before execution," Jannie offered, taking Y'zel by the waist, "Channel, then release. Focus on the basics of your role and worry about the greater mechanics of the job later."

Y'zel inhaled then floated his star globe in front of him before giving it a dip to summon a well of gravity to bring the mob down. 

U'rahn swayed as he stood, shaking out his head as Violet kicked through bodies in an attempt to find a key for the door ahead.

"I'm really sorry. It really feels like the greater workings of the cards are constantly in flux. I thought at first they were more diversified in their effects but now they seem rather evenly divided and it's a struggle to remember which one is which. Especially with the Arrow doesn't enhance ranged positions but then the spire does? Sorry…I'm…”

"You don't need to that get worked up. Just take a breath and if you're uncertain what a card does redraw or shuffle it away. We're more than capable of moving through without a boon."

"Seriously. It's not like any of us were that injured…just inconvenienced. Just slow the fuck down and stop panicking," Violet assured him.

"Well, I was kinda injured," U'rahn pointed out.

"You're the fucking tank and can't handle a surge of aether and were the one aggroing the damned hoard " Violet snapped in turn before yoinking a key from a dead body and tossing it to the Seeker, "If anything, it's your fault Y'zel was even overwhelmed in the first place. Now pick your axe up and let's move the fuck on."

U'rahn's tail curled as he caught the key and jumped back with his wrists raised. "R-Right! Hero time it is," the Nuhn breathed out, hurrying to the door with the key while Jannie shook her head and Y'zel tilted his.

[xasha777]

In a time where nature and technology were interwoven into the fabric of daily life, the Great Library of Aeon stood as a testament to human knowledge. It was said that within its walls, a single eye observed all who entered, a guardian crafted from the ancient trees and the wisdom of a thousand books.

This eye belonged to the Abbot Primate, a figure shrouded in mystery, the keeper of the world's knowledge. He was not man, nor machine, but something in between—a bioengineered sage whose body was a library, and whose heart was a compendium of humanity's greatest thoughts.

One day, as the rustling bamboo whispered secrets to the wind, a young acolyte named Elara stumbled upon the Abbot's sanctum, where the giant eye rested within the nest of wooden scrolls and vibrant tomes.

"Abbot Primate," Elara spoke with a voice tinged with awe, "what wisdom do you seek today?"

The eye shifted, and in its depths, galaxies swirled. The Abbot's voice was a chorus of whispers, like leaves in a storm. "Elara, seeker of truth, join me. The future is a branch that grows from the past, and today, we witness a new leaf unfurl."

Mesmerized, Elara stepped closer as the Abbot Primate’s iris revealed a vision—a city where technology did not conquer nature but danced with it. Buildings grew like trees, vehicles flew like birds, and humanity walked in harmony with the earth.

"This is your destiny," the Abbot intoned. "To build a world where the eye does not rule over the forest but sees through its spirit. Take this vision, Elara, and share the wisdom of balance with the world."

Elara left the sanctum, the image of the future seared into her memory. The Abbot Primate continued to watch over the Great Library, an eternal sentinel at the threshold of what has been and what could be, in a world where nature’s whispers carried the weight of knowledge.

[battinscn]

RAVENCLAW VS SLYTHERIN MATCH — adrian pucey x slytherin! f! reader

CONTENT WARNING: kissing

SUMMARY: when you’ve been dating adrian for a few months and he has yet to ask you to be his girlfriend. you relayed this information to your best friend and he decided to meddle in.

WC/ AVG. READING TIME: 807 words/ 6 minutes

return to the adrian masterlist here

"SO WHAT’S UP with you and pucey?" terence asked as he slid into the chair next to y/n.

"i don't even know anymore," the girl groaned, banging her head on the open book laid on the library desk.

terence winced at the sound of his best friend's had coming in contact with the table, "i thought you two were all lovey dovey."

"we've been going on dates for like what, six months? and he hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend...does he not like me anymore or something?" y/n sighed, her tone changing to a disappointed one.

"i'm sure he likes you y/n, maybe he just isn't ready for a relationship yet." terence placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"i'm sure he likes you y/n, maybe he just isn't ready for a relationship yet." terence placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"i think...i think i love him t."

terence raised his eyebrows in surprise, a smirk evident on his face as y/n eyes widened in shock that those words had left her mouth.

his best friend had never talked about a boy this way before, and so, terence knew exactly what he had to do.

"y/n you cant hide in here while the match is going on, you'll miss it!" terence held onto his broom as he nudged the girl.

y/n was sat on the bench in the slytherin tent while the other players were walking out onto the field. she had already wished adrian all the best.

"shhh shut up t! i'm getting to the good part," y/n smacked the boy as her eyes stayed glued to the book in her hand.

"yea you're definitely not going to want to miss this match," terence snatched the book out of y/n's hands, tossing it across the tent.

the boy dragged y/n out onto the field and pushed her towards the stairs to the stands.

"go take a seat, and don't leave," terence said sternly as he jogged up to the rest of the team.

"fine." rolled her eyes as she sulked her way to the very top and plopped down on an empty seat.

y/n watched as sweaty ravenclaw and slytherin players zoomed past her on their brooms.

everyone's attention was on terence, who had caught sight of the snitch and was going after it, the ravenclaw seeker right behind him.

"y/n!" someone in the air shouted from above her.

y/n tilted her head up, squinting to see who had called for her.

and it was none other than adrian pucey.

adrian was holding a quaffle in his hand while he looked down at the girl.

"y/n y/l/n if i make this goal will you be my girlfriend?" adrian cupped his free hand around his mouth.

immediately, everyone's eyes were on y/n and she blushed a deep red.

the girl ran her hands down her face trying to hide her blush and the small smile that threatened to form as she nodded lightly.

"i can't hear you y/n!" adrian shouted, a smug tone lacing his voice.

"YES ADRIAN PUCEY IF YOU MAKE THAT GOAL I WILL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND" y/n shouted back to adrian.

at that, adrian threw the quaffle past the ravenclaw keeper and into the goal. at the same time, terence had caught the snitch and slytherin won the game.

adrian had the proudest and cockiest grin on his face as him and the team made their way back onto the field and into the tents.

y/n quickly shuffled down the steps, almost tripping from how giddy she was.

y/n pulled open the tent doors, standing on her tippy toes as she tried to look for adrian.

two arms wrapped around her waist from behind as she was picked up from the ground.

"adrian!" y/n giggled as she was spun around.

when the boy placed her back on her feet, he spun her around so she was facing him.

"hey" adrian spoke lowly.

"hey" y/n breathed out.

the two teens had grins on their faces as they stared at each other in awe.

"so..about the girlfriend thing-"

"godric ade that was so embarrassing, the whole school was staring at me" y/n laughed, "but i guess you could say it was rather romantic"

she placed both arms over adrian's shoulders and intertwined her hands behind his neck.

"i love you y/n" the brunette spoke rather confidently.

"and i love you ade"

adrian leaned forward as y/n tilted her head up.

"ew make it stop" terence jokingly whined, interrupting their kiss and causing them to pull away.

"shove off higgs!" the couple scolded simultaneously as they flipped the golden haired boy off.

join my taglist here!

tags: @lilytoyourjames @haroldpotterson

[may-clouds]

BEING THE SEEKER ON STANDBY

ron weasley x f!gryffindor!reader headcanon

― when harry can't play in the next quidditch match, you have to take his place as seeker and end up catching Ron's eye in the process

― fluff

― warnings: none

― this is only in headcanon format because i genuinely could not be bothered to fully write anything out

masterlist

Despite being on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team for a couple of years now, you'd hardly spoken to any of the other members outside of practice hours.

It was even rarer that you actually got an opportunity to play in any of the official school tournament games (despite being an entire year older than Harry).

So when Harry ended up in the hospital wing, unable to play the next game against Ravenclaw, you were next in line to claim the title of Gryffindor's seeker.

You felt a little guilty for being so excited over the Potter boy's absence, but this would be your first time in the spotlight in ages! You couldn't help it.

Stepping out onto the pitch was quite anxiety-inducing considering how many people were expecting The Boy Who Lived instead of you, but a heavy hand landed on your shoulder to draw your attention.

"Pretend they're not there. It's easier said than done, I know, but it helps."

You turn your head slightly to see none other than Ron Weasley, Gryffindor's keeper, giving you an awkward, yet reassuring smile.

"Thanks Ron." you smile back.

"You know my name?" he would ask lamely, in awe that such a pretty girl even recognised him.

"How could I not know the name of the best keeper of this season?" you laughed back. To you, it was an obvious answer.

Ron thought you'd say something along the lines of "Well you're Harry Potter's best friend, right?" which was a common thing for him to hear. But in reality, your response had stunned him.

Just then, your captain called for the team to huddle up, so you turned your back to the ginger boy. What you didn't see was the look of shock on Ron's face.

If Harry was there, he definitely would've elbowed him in the ribs and suggestively looked between the back of your head and Ron's flushed face.

From then on, Ron could barely take his eyes off of you.

He almost missed a couple of shots because in that exact moment you'd grabbed his attention from the other side of the pitch.

But he'd never admit that he was staring.

After the game he would gather the confidence to compliment your skills and ability.

He had to force through a large crowd of cheering Gryffindors to do so because you had caught the snitch and won them the game, so he had to fight for your attention.

To him, another chance at a conversation with you was worth it.

[reilliane]

hii so i decided to put myself thru some crispy angst by rereading ur astrolabe series again, and i was thinking what wouldve been aether & scara's pov when the deity faded and they suddenly remember everything?

Mm yes, astrolabe, as one of my readers said in Ao3; the universe where the MC is an emotionally attached genie. DHAJKDHASJKDHAJKDHAS

Now, yes, as seen in Venti's piece (I think it was Stellar-) MC can only be remembered when she dies, because then, there'd be no use in not remembering who she is when she's already dead :V

Aether would have been already out of Teyvat with Lumine by the time he recalls MC and oh dear, he would just stop.

The memories will come surging as if he's submerged underwater, just waves and waves and waves of memories coming like no tomorrow.

He will be absolutely devastated. He'll be heartbroken but he won't exactly cry. He'll just feel so awful because like everyone else, he promised not to forget MC but he still did.

It's been implied through his ficlets that Aether harbors subdued romantic feelings for MC, overshadowed by the priority of finding Lumine.

So suddenly recalling her when he's gone, when she's gone, will just break him apart.

In the end, he fulfilled his promise of not forgetting her, only it's far little too late.

Scaramouche, ah yes, the original keeper of the astrolabe. We all see the way he almost broke apart when he recalled traces of who MC was at 'star-seeker', but if he fully becomes aware?

Oh goodness gracious, the poor man.

He will be so livid at himself and whoever, whatever controls fate. It's an infuriating thing and he makes sure he curses it at least once a day- no jesting-

MC was the missing person he had been looking for, and he only later realized why he couldn't find her. It's all because of stupid, stupid fate.

He'll take to trying to find the astrolabe. An impossible thing, 'cause he doesn't know if it still exists, but he does it anyway. From a different angle, it's his way of trying to redeem himself for forgetting her; chasing after a being that no longer exists.

He will move on with time because his questions were finally answered, but he won't be the same. He'll flinch at the mention of stars and if someone sees his eyes being glassy, they'd think they're seeing things.

But they're not.

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Circle of Khanna

Chapter 3: Times, They Are A-Changing

A/N: Sixth year is well under way, meaning more schoolwork, Hogsmeade trips, and Quidditch! Whilst Artemis catches up with some old friends, Skye is set on beating the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Meanwhile, Charlie has his own problems… Members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch (Dream) Team belong to @lifeofkaze @thatravenpuffwitch and @that-scouse-wizard. Warnings: mild angst and the rewriting of an iconic HPHM scene, which I can only hope I’ve done justice.

Artemis had thought that her O.W.L. year would be the hardest of her time at Hogwarts, but by the time she had gotten a month into first term, she had realised that was not the case in the slightest. Sixth year made fifth year look almost easy in comparison.

She may have halved the number of subjects she was studying, but somehow, Artemis’ workload had increased. It wasn’t just that she had additional assignments or that the new content of her lessons was harder; N.E.W.T. students were expected to perform all spells non-verbally, which meant that even the most basic of spells were now more difficult to perform. Luckily for Artemis, spellwork had always been something that had come easily to her, but even she was finding the transition taxing.

At least Artemis would have something to take her mind off her studies; her position as Seeker on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team was secure, as Skye Parkin, the new Captain, was keen to keep the team as similar as possible to the year before.

“For why would I want tae mess around wi’ a winning formula?” said Skye on the way down to the Quidditch pitch ready for the first practise of term. “We won the Cup last year, an’ we’ll win it this year an’ aw.”

The team was in good shape. They may have lost their previous captain and Chaser Orion Amari, who had been scouted by the Montrose Magpies, and Keeper Alex Gwithers, who was now working for the Ministry of Magic, but they had found decent replacements in the form of Chaser Cordelia Costa and Keeper Amelia Booth, and a new reserve player named Ellie Hopper. By their third practice of term, they had settled into their slightly altered dynamic. It looked like Skye might be right; perhaps they really would win the Cup for a second year running.

The chances of a second victory seemed much slimmer, however, when the somewhat impartial Quidditch commentator Murphy McNully joined them on the pitch at the start of October.

“Hooch has changed the match schedule,” he told them. “So you won’t be playing Slytherin next month after all.”

Artemis frowned. That meant that they would be up against either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, the two teams that had been their most challenging opponents the previous year. Erika Rath, the Ravenclaw Captain, was a ferocious Beater with an axe to grind following her team’s defeat the year before, and Artemis knew from experience that her friend Charlie, although only reluctantly a Captain himself, was both a remarkable Seeker and flying instructor. Neither team was ideal for them to be playing against for their first match of the season.

“Who are we up against then, Murphy?” 

“Gryffindor.”

“Och,” Skye shrugged. “Nae bother. We smashed them last year.”

“Yes, but they were playing with a reserve Seeker,” said Murphy. “Your chances were always greatly increased. And I’ve been hearing nothing but good things about Weasley when it comes to his captaincy. There’s a decent probability that their strategy will be different to last year. They’re an unknown variable.”

“Aye, ye make a fair point there, McNully, I’ll give ye that. So, what we need is a way tae find out what their strategy is before the match so we can figure out a way tae beat them.”

“Yes, but as an impartial-”

“Haud yer wheesht, McNully, I was nae talking tae you,” Skye interrupted Murphy, her green eyes fixed on Artemis. “Hexley, hen, you’re pals with Weasley, aren’t ye?”

“No,” Artemis said quickly. “I mean, yeah, I am. But I’m not going to spy on him.”

“I was nae gaun tae say that ye should spy oan him.”

Artemis pursed her lips. She got the feeling that that was exactly what Skye was going to say.

“I was gaun tae say,” Skye continued, “that ye could ask him what he’s got planned. Nae harm in that.”

“I dunno. That still sounds like spying to me.”

“Well, ye have a wee think about it, hen. I’ll have a wee reccy in the meantime, see what I can find out.”

Behind her, Skye’s best friend and fellow Chaser Lizzie Jameson made eye contact with Artemis, an apprehensive look on her face. Artemis knew why. The last time Skye had tried to unearth information about a Quidditch rival, it had led to her spreading a series of rumours and inadvertently leaving Artemis to face the wrath of Rath. Somehow, she would have to find a way to placate Skye and keep Charlie out of trouble.

As for Charlie himself, he had enough on his plate already without being the target of Skye’s latest Quidditch scandal. In just one month, the Weasley twins had managed to cause more chaos than Tonks and Tulip had done in all their first five years at school, and every time they ended up in detention or a letter was sent home to their parents, Charlie looked more and more anxious.  

“If you like, I could have a word with them for you,” Artemis suggested as the pair of them went to fetch food for the Grindylows - which, according to Professor Kettleburn, were behaving particularly aggressively for the time of year - they were studying in Care of Magical Creatures class.

With both Rowan and Ben Copper having given up the subject, Care of Magical Creatures had become Artemis and Charlie’s biweekly opportunity to spend time with each other. There were only four other students in the class: Merula Snyde, who was still acting even more strangely than usual; Ismelda Murk, Merula’s closest friend and erstwhile school bully; Barnaby Lee, Artemis’ ex-boyfriend, who still hadn’t spoken a word to her since their break up in June; and Barnaby’s best friend Liz Tuttle, whose silence towards Artemis might have been due to shyness, active dislike, or both. Charlie was therefore her natural ally in the lessons, and the fact that he was very skilled in subject meant that Artemis was finding the lessons much less difficult than she would have done had she been partnered with anyone else.

“I’ve tried having words with them,” Charlie muttered, summoning a wooden block for Artemis to stand on as she reached into the barrel of feed. “Several times, actually. It’s not doing any good at all. I don’t really know what else to do. If anything, I think I’m making it worse.”

“I doubt that.”

Artemis stepped down from her wooden block to free up the barrel for Charlie to fill up his feed buckets. He did so in silence, before shrugging at Artemis.

“Any word from your brother?” he asked her, and though Artemis could tell that he was partly asking to change the subject, she still shook her head in response.

“Nothing. And according to the Daily Prophet, they’ve still not found Rakepick, either,” she sighed. “You don’t fancy swapping brothers, do you?”

“Depends. Which one do you want?”

“Ideally Bill, but I’ll settle for Ron.”

That made Charlie laugh at least, though he still seemed tense. He always seemed tense these days. And he wasn’t the only one. So far, sixth year was taking its toll on all of Artemis’ friends.

Rowan was constantly studying,  staying in the library until closing time every single evening; Penny was still smothering Beatrice, and getting nothing but resentment in return; Tonks was for some reason still seething about not being allowed to take Potions as one of her N.E.W.T. Subjects; and Chiara’s stint of good health seemed to last all of two weeks. Artemis barely ever spoke to Ben Copper anymore; he had become intent on being fearless, which largely involved him glaring sullenly at everyone; and her other friends in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw - Jae, Tulip, Andre and Badeea - all seemed preoccupied whenever they were together.

It was a relief to everyone when the first Hogsmeade weekend of term was announced for the third weekend of October; some time away from the castle was just what everyone needed. Even Penny was considering leaving Beatrice alone for the day, thanks to a letter containing news that had made Artemis even more excited for the Hogsmeade weekend than she had been: Bill Weasley was coming to visit. 

Artemis hadn’t seen Bill since she had left the Weasleys’ at the end of the summer, though the pair of them had written to each other a few times since then, sharing news from the castle and Gringotts Bank. Still, she couldn’t wait to see her friend, and hear all about the adventures he’d been having now that he was a real Curse-Breaker.

On the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Artemis walked down to the village with Rowan, Penny, and Tonks. Chiara, having been unwell for the previous few days, didn’t join them, but their spirits were not too dampened. With the cool sunshine on their faces and crunching autumn leaves under their feet, the girls made their way through the winding streets of the village to the train station, where they had arranged to meet Bill.

The sound of a whistle and smell of smoke announced the train’s arrival, and through the small crowd of witches and wizards disembarking onto the the platform, Artemis spotted the unmistakable tall frame and red hair of her friend.

Bill Weasley’s face split into a wide smile as he saw the girls. He hugged each of them in turn, starting with Penny and ending with Tonks.

“Wotcher, Bill. I like your hair like that,” Tonks told him. Bill laughed, running his hand through his low ponytail, which had grown even longer since the summer.

“Are you taking the mickey?” he asked her.

“Not at all. Looks cracking. Anyway, I’ve got to go and meet Tulip. Great seeing you, Bill.”

“Well, that was brief,” Bill said, watching Tonks speed away. “What’s gotten into her?”

“Tulip’s going to help her pick out something to prank Professor Snape with as revenge for not letting her take his N.E.W.T. Level Potions course,” explained Rowan.

“I didn’t think Tonks cared that much about Potions.”

“No, but you know what Tonks is like,” Rowan gave Bill a dark look. “Tell her she’s not allowed to do something, and suddenly it’s all she wants to do.”

“Of course,” Bill nodded. “What about the rest of you? You all coping with the N.E.W.T. classes?”

There was a chorus of dubious noises, and Bill hummed sympathetically.

“It’s tough, sixth year. Once you all get the hang of the non-verbal magic it’ll be fine, though. Just you wait and see.”

Bill quickly caught them all up on the comings and goings of Gringotts, telling them about his lectures and his upcoming trip to Italy, where he would be spending six weeks investigating the ruins of an ancient wizarding town. Artemis listened, enraptured, as Bill explained about the relics that had been buried during an earthquake, and the enchantments protecting the site. It was exciting business, this international curse-breaking.

“Of course, I didn’t get a chance to speak to anyone after today’s news,” he said.

“What news?” Artemis asked, her nose wrinkling.

‘Haven’t you lot read today’s Daily Prophet? They caught her.”

“Who, Rakepick?“

Rowan practically ran over to a nearby bench, and picked up a discarded newspaper. She brought it back and read aloud:

“‘Dark Witch Patricia Rakepick was today apprehended by Aurors following a four month hunt. Rakepick, former Head Curse-Breaker for Gringotts Bank, was wanted in connection with an attack made on a group of students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-’”

“Technically, we weren’t at school. The Vault was somewhere off-site.”

“I know, but shush. I’m still reading,” Rowan tutted, making Artemis grin. “‘…at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she was working as a professor at the time. Rakepick is suspected to be in league with the mysterious criminal organisation, ‘R’. Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Aurors leading the investigation, declined to make a statement.’ Apparently, someone reported seeing her in going into an antiques shop in Knockturn Alley.” 

“They were searching for her for four months, and she was only in Knockturn Alley?” Artemis shook her head. “No wonder this Mad-Eye person and Kingsley whatever-his-name-was didn’t want to make a statement. They can’t have been looking very hard.”

“She probably wasn’t in Knockturn Alley this whole time. I wonder what she was doing there, when the whole Auror office was looking out for her,” said Rowan, frowning deeply. “It’s not really a great time to go shopping, is it? When you’re wanted by the law.”

“Well, whatever the reason is, let’s just be glad that she’s been caught,” Penny said, smiling and nodding. “It’s one thing less for everyone to worry about, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. And if Rakepick’s been found, it means my brother won’t need to keep looking for her either.”

“Talking of brothers,” Bill frowned, “where’s mine? I would’ve thought that Charlie would have come down with you lot to meet me. I’m not going to see him until Christmas, else.”

“Charlie’s working at the Three Broomsticks. We could all go there and have some lunch, if you like.”

Artemis had expected Bill to be happy with this idea, and he did look tempted, but instead, he shook his head and somewhat awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Actually, Artemis, Penny and I were going to go for a walk,” he said. “But depending when we get back, I might meet you for a Butterbeer before I leave. If I’m not at the Three Broomsticks by the time Charlie finishes his shift, go back to the castle with him, yeah?”

“But-”

“If I don’t get to see you later, I’ll write to you tonight,” Bill told her. Artemis opened her mouth to argue, but there was a serious look in his eyes that stopped her from doing so. She shut her mouth, nodded her head, and ducked out of the way as Bill reached out to ruffle her hair. “I’ll get you next time, Little One. See you soon, Rowan.”

“Bye, Bill,” Rowan returned his greeting, and watched him walk away with Penny. She turned to Artemis, and smiled. “How peculiar.”

“What is? Bill not telling me if he’ll be back in time to have a drink with me?”

“I suppose that, too, but I was actually thinking about how it’s just the two of us. That hardly ever happens anymore.”

“I suppose not,” Artemis linked arms with Rowan. “You know, I really miss spending all my time with you.”

“Me too. We can’t be inseparable forever, though.”

“A shame, really,” said Artemis and she looked up and down the platform, the same platform that the two of them had stood on every year at the start and end of term. “Ro, do you remember the first time we got the train to Hogwarts?”

“Of course. I was so terrified about coming here, and worried that I wouldn’t make any friends, and-”

“Rubbish, we were already friends before then!”

“I know, but I thought that maybe you’d find other people who were cooler than me to be friends with,” Rowan laughed. “Remember, I think it was Penny who was having a party on the train, and I was far too shy to go to it. I thought you might want to go, but instead, you stayed with me.”

“Of course I did. I could never leave you all by yourself.”

“Still, thank you for staying with me.”

“Thank you for staying with me,” Artemis gave her best friend a sheepish smile. “I don’t think I’ve always given you the easiest time, what with all the curses and the poisonous spiders.”

“Venomous,” Rowan corrected her, smirking to herself. “No, it’s been an interesting five years. But at least it hasn’t been boring.”

“Anything but that.”

The two of them stood arm in arm on the platform, looking out a the view of Hogwarts castle towering on a cliff top over the Black Lake, the water and stone glowing in the high sun. The train had long gone and the crowds had cleared completely. It really was just the two of them, they way it hadn’t been since their first days at school, five years previously.

“Things are so different now, aren’t they?” Artemis said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Some things are. Not everything” Rowan turned and nodded her head at the clock on the wall behind them. “See, the clock hasn’t changed.”

Artemis followed Rowan’s line of sight, and saw that the clock read ten past ten, whereas her own watch made it almost noon.

“Has it been like that the whole time we’ve been here?”

She had been asking the question seriously, but Rowan laughed out loud.

“Artemis, the clock here has been stuck at ten past ten since the first time we came to Hogwarts,” she said. “Have you really never noticed that before?”

“Never. Someone really ought to fix it.”

“Probably, but I quite like it. There’s something reassuring about how constant it is. It’s nice that some things can just stay the same, almost like they’re frozen in time.”

“I guess so,” Artemis squeezed Rowan’s arm. “Well, seeing as it’s just the two of us today, what do you want to do? We could go for lunch, or to Tomes and Scrolls, or Maestro’s Music Shop, or-”

“I don’t mind. You can choose,” Rowan replied. “But can we just stay here for a little while first? I’d quite like to just stay frozen in time for a bit longer.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do more.”

Eventually, Rowan and Artemis decided to stop being frozen in time. They had both gotten hungry, and Artemis had been looking forward to seeing Madam Rosmerta. They set off for the Three Broomsticks, where the clock read half past twelve. Rosmerta had clearly read the morning paper, because barely had she given Artemis a hug and a free pint of Butterbeer before she launched into a tirade against Patricia Rakepick.

“Yeah, but they’ve caught her now, Ros,” Artemis said, the moment she managed to get a word in edgeways.

“About time, too,” Rosmerta said, scrubbing the bar with a damp cloth. “Any longer and I’d have gone down to that Auror office and given Kingsley Shacklebolt a piece of my mind.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows. She had seen Rosmerta give someone a piece of her mind before. It really was just as well that the Aurors had found Rakepick when they did. Artemis framed her next question very carefully.

“Ros, I was just wondering, how much do you charge for one of your rooms?”

“Depends which room, love. Why?”

“Oh, well,” Artemis shrugged her shoulders, trying her hardest to look nonchalant. “I’ll be seventeen in May, so I was thinking that I might move out of my mum’s house, that’s all.”

She had thought that she’d sounded casual enough, but clearly she hadn’t, because Madam Rosmerta stopped cleaning the bar and stood up straight, staring at Artemis with her hands on her hips.

“Your mum hasn’t kicked you out, has she?” she asked. 

“No! No, she… I just don’t want to live there anymore. It’s fine.”

Rosmerta sighed. “Artemis…”

“No, really. Don’t worry about the room.”

“Now, just hold on a moment, love,” Ros said, reaching across the bar to place a hand on Artemis’ arm. “You listen here. If you ever - ever - need a room, I will find you a room. It doesn’t matter if you're seventeen or you're seventy, if it’s just for one night or if it’s for six months. There will be a room for you here, do you understand?”

“Yeah, of course,” Artemis gnawed on her lower lip. “And how much would that room cost?”

“How about we talk about how much you can afford to pay for the room if or when you need it?”

Artemis nodded, struggling to find the words to respond properly. Rosmerta smiled at her, though her eyes still looked sad. Before she walked away to serve another customer, she touched her palm to Artemis’ cheek, ever so gently.

Rowan and Artemis both stayed sitting at the bar while they ate their lunch, partly because many of the tables were full, but mainly so that they could chat with Charlie Weasley in between him serving punters. Artemis recounted Bill’s stories to him, and Charlie nodded along politely enough, though he looked distracted, as if he were lost in thought, or lost altogether.

“You know, Bill might be coming for a drink later,” Artemis told him, in the hope of cheering him up. “Depends when he gets back from his walk with Penny.”

“They might be gone a while,” Charlie muttered, and Artemis tilted her head at hm.

“Why, where are they going?”

“I’m not sure, actually.”

“Right, well, Bill said to come here later and if he’s not back by the time you finish then we can just go back to the castle together,” Artemis continued. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s… That’ a good idea. I’d like to walk with you. We can chat. Sounds good.”

With that, Charlie shrugged and walked away. Artemis turned to Rowan, completely mystified.

“Is it just me,” she whispered, “or are these boys being really weird about going for walks today?”

It turned out that Bill was not done with his and Penny’s walk in time for him to meet Artemis for a drink. Instead, Artemis returned to the castle with Charlie, both Rowan and Tonks having gone back with the Ravenclaws. As they walked, they made somewhat stilted conversation, Charlie being very quiet, even compared to his usual standards. By the time they reached the grounds, Artemis was growing frustrated with him.

“Charlie,” she said, staring at him, “you said you wanted to walk so we could chat.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to chat, then, or what?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, again. Artemis glared at him, and he shrugged. “Uh, well, I really wanted to talk to you about something. Something important.”

“Okay,” Artemis frowned. When Charlie didn’t say anything, she sighed, exasperated. “Oh, come on. You want to tell me something, why don’t you just tell me?”

“Because… It’s just difficult, that’s all.”

The look on Charlie’s face made Artemis’ frustration almost disappear entirely. She had thought all term that he had even looking anxious or sad; now, he was both.

“Charlie, you can tell me anything, you know,” she said, earnestly. Charlie sighed, and looked straight at her, a pained smile on his face.

“I know,” he said, quietly. “Alright. The thing is, I-”

“There you are!” a sharp voice called out, and Artemis and Charlie both turned to see the tense face of Percy Weasley, who bore down on them with his arms folded across his chest. “I’ve been looking for you for the last hour, Charlie. Where were you?”

“Three Broomsticks,” Charlie shrugged. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Fred and George have got detention again. Filch found them with a load of dungbombs that your friends gave them.”

Artemis and Charlie exchanged lances. It was easy to  guess who had supplied the twins with the dungbombs. Charlie took a deep shaky breath, that glazed lost look creeping back into his brown eyes.

“Perhaps if you spent more time concentrating on being a good prefect they wouldn’t get into so much trouble all the time,” Percy continued, either not noticing or not caring about the effect his words were having on his brother. “Maybe you should think about your responsibilities, rather than spending all your time playing Quidditch, or messing about with your friends in Hogsmeade, or writing letters to Godric knows who. That’s what Bill would have done.”

“Shut up, Percy,” Artemis snapped at him, fully aware that Charlie would never do so himself. “It’s not Charlie’s fault that your brothers get into trouble, it’s theirs. And I don’t think you’d be able to do a better job of stopping them anyway.”

“I’d like to think that I’d at least try. I’d at least care.”

“Charlie does care. He cares more than you do, I bet. At least he cares about more things than just a stinking rat and being some poncy teacher’s pet. Honestly, Percy, sometimes it’s like you’ve got a bloody great stick up your-”

“Artemis, stop,” said Charlie, quietly. “Percy, I’ll talk to them later, alright?”

“Later’s not good enough,” Percy said, with a tut.

“You know, sometimes you really are such a-”

“Don’t, Artemis. Please,” Charlie shook his head, and Artemis contented herself with glowering at Percy. “Alright, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to come and help me!”

“Sorry, Percy, we’re busy right now,” Artemis told him with a scowl, just as Charlie said:

“Alright. Fine. I’ll come now.”

“Charlie, you don’t have to-”

“I do. I’m sorry,” Charlie shrugged his shoulders, and Percy gave Artemis a smug smile as he joined his side. “Look, we can catch up some other time, yeah? I really have to sort this out.”

“I can help, if you like?”

“No offence, Artemis,” Percy said, loftily. “But this is a family thing.”

Offended, Artemis turned to Charlie, who closed his eyes and grimaced.

“Percy, please don’t be rude to my friends,” he said, his voice low and level. Percy said nothing, just stared at Artemis with a haughty expression on his pointed face.

Charlie mouthed another apology before leaving with his brother, and Artemis, still seething, watched them return to the castle together. The sound of a wolf howling in the forest caught her attention, and realising how dark it had become, she wrapped her jacket tight around herself and hurried inside before the full moon rose in the sky.

“You really shouldn’t have given the twins those dungbombs,” Artemis told Tonks in the dormitory that evening. 

“Why not? They wanted to prank Snape, I wanted Snape to get pranked,” Tonks yawned, and flopped backwards onto her bed. “I don’t see why it’s such a big problem.”

“Because, every time Fred and George get into trouble, it comes back around to Charlie. It’s just causing problems for our friend.”

“Charlie won’t care. He’s the most laidback peson I know.”

Artemis couldn’t tell Tonks how wrong she was without telling her things Charlie had told her in confidence, so she pursed her lips and said nothing. Across the room, Rowan looked up from the novel she was reading.

“What did Charlie want to chat about, anyway?” She asked.

“Never got to find out, he was about to tell me something when Percy came along and started having a go at him about the dungbombs.”

“What was he going to tell you?”

“Well, I don’t know, do I?” Artemis rolled her eyes at Tonks’ question. “You and your dungbombs saw to that!”

“Penny, you always know everyone’s business before they know it themselves,” Tonks said, sitting upright. “What do you… Where’s Penny gone?”

Rowan and Artemis both looked around the room. At some point during the other girls’ bickering, Penny had slipped out unnoticed.

“It’s almost time for lights out,” Rowan said, with a soft sigh. “She must have gone to check that Bea is back in her dormitory.”

“Really? I thought she was just starting to relax. I mean, she’s been out all day!”

“That’s probably why. She was gone today, so now she’s just panicking.”

“Still,” said Tonks, “She needs to let loose a little. She’s just pushing Beatrice further away.”

“Try telling her that,” Artemis muttered darkly.

“Nah, I’m not brave enough for that.”

Penny returned to the dormitory shortly after, merely nodded her head in response when Rowan asked her if Beatrice was okay, before getting into her bed without another word. The other three girls shared looks of baffled concern, and not much later, they went to bed themselves.

[yourlocalmaraudersbabe]

hello, darling. pleade do remember how groovy I am before you see how many prompts I listed. The scenario would be being *awful* at anything sports related and James being super patient and sweet trying to teach you quidditch. With these prompts please: 2, 25, 36, 44, 54, 56 and finally 69. thank youuu

“Well maybe I’d reconsider”

Summary: James tries to teach you about quidditch, but it turns into a bumpy broom ride

A/N: Sarahhhh thanks for sending this in :) Also everyone go read @sarahisslytherin‘s writing, it’s wonderful <3

Word Count: 921

Masterlist + Characters and ships I write for

Requests are always open <3

Fluff Dialogue Prompt List

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Reminder that I do not support jkr. Do not interact if you do.

“Are you paying attention to me?”

James waved his hands in front of you, clearing your thoughts of daydreams.

“Sorry, I was too busy being lost in your eyes,” you teased, warmth creeping onto your cheeks.

“I know I’m beautiful but I’m trying to explain this to you.”

After six long painful years of James asking to teach you quidditch, and three years of a happy relationship, you now stood on the grass of the pitch with the boy in front of you, eager to teach.

In your defense, falling off your broom first year, breaking your leg and a couple ribs, made you pretty weary to the idea. It got you excused from flying lessons and strongly encouraged to find join Flitwick’s choir.

When it came to your boyfriend being on the team, it was hard for you to bring yourself to go watch him play. Just the sight of it made you nearly sick to your stomach. You cheered him on at the more important games, when you made sure that you had company in the stands.

It would be a lie to say you were fine with missing out on the matches.

You felt terrible not watching the person you love most play something that he enjoyed, all over the fact that you couldn’t stomach it.

But you cracked and gave into James. It was hard to say no to him, especially with that look on his face. That look of pure hope and enjoyment spreading across him the first instance you hesitated in answering no.

“Okay,” he started. “Three chasers, two beaters, a keeper, and a seeker.”

You mumbled, repeating what he said under your breath. “How am I supposed to remember that?”

“It’s not a lot to remember.”

“It is too!”

“Maybe come to more matches. It might be easier that way.”

You frowned. “That’s not fair for you to say.”

“Y/n, you’re hung up on something that happened first year.”

You stayed silent, gathering your thoughts in your mind that was racing. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it.

“I’m sorry,” he looked to his feet for a brief moment before meeting your eyes.

“I accept apologies in kisses and hugs.”

He continued rambling, completely missing what you had said. “That wasn’t fair of me to say—”

“If I don’t get a kiss in the next ten seconds, I think I might explode.”

You stopped him short, his mouth agape. He erased the space between the two of you, kissing you sweetly.

He kissed you as if he were to ever stop, he’d lose you. He’d lose your laugh and smile, and the way you’d run his fingers through his hair as you lay with him in bed. He kissed you, ignoring the tense blanket of air that lay over the field.

You pulled away, an affectionate smile on your face. “I- I should probably try and come to more matches. I want to be there for you, James.”

“But that was unfair of me to say, I really am sorry.”

You gave him a compassionate smile. “All is forgiven,” you said. “Back to quidditch?”

“Back to quidditch.”

He picked up two brooms, holding one out your way. “Right. So. First, flying.”

“Touchy subject,” you joked, laughter spilling from the both of you.

“Okay, okay, it’s simple really. Just mount your broom and kick off with your feet, like this.”

James demonstrated the simple step for you so effortlessly it made you want to knock him off.

You eyed him up and down. “You can’t be comfortable sitting like that.”

“It’s quite comfortable actually.”

“Really? You seem to be—”

“You’re stalling.”

“This terrifies me,” you admitted quietly.

“It’ll be alright, I promise.”

“Do I have to be on my own broom?”

He shook his head, holding out his hand for you to take it. You fit your hand snug into his, mounting the broom in front of him.

“How about we just focus on flying today, yeah?”

You nodded, gripping onto the wood for dear life. “You’re safe with me,” he spoke softly, head on your shoulder as he slipped an arm around your waist and the other firm around the broom.

He leaned forward the slightest bit before looking upwards, ascending into the sky. “Merlin,” you muttered under your breath.

Once you reached the height of the stands, he hovered in the air. “Steering is all in your shoulders, got it?”

“No, I do not—”

You stopped yourself short as he gained speed, turning sharply. “James!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassured.

He kept a steady pace, winding around the stands and goal posts. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be, but you’d never admit that to the boy behind you.

Everything was well, calming even, until James had leaned in, speeding towards the ground. You had let a sequence of curses and his name slip past your lips, squeezing your eyes shut.

With an abrupt stop, James planted his feet on the ground. You got off, fixing your robes and pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You’re an ass!”

“You love me,” he said through a playful smile.

“I do! But that still doesn’t mean that—”

“Just admit it, you love flying,” he teased, crossing his arms. “And later, you’ll love quidditch.”

“I love you, not quidditch.”

“What if my name was Quidditch, huh?”

An infectious smile crept upon your face, unable to hide it as you rolled your eyes.

“Well maybe I’d reconsider.”

James Potter Taglist(send me an ask to be removed): @wisedreamcatcher @scorpiobaby22 @emmaev @harrypotter0addict @talksoprettyjjx @katelebate @onyourgoddamnleft @ilovejamespotter @confuscita

[rogue-durin-16]

OUT OF TROUBLE

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: kinda angsty kinda fluffy

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, violence, concussion, language (?)

A/N: idk what to say apart from the idea of George losing his shit big time won't leave me alone and idek why (blaming it on that scene in the Order of the Phoenix in which George and Harry beat Malfoy the fuck up) so enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Well," McGonagall's severe eyes scrutinized all six of us from the other side of her desk. "who is going to give us" she briefly motioned at Snape, who stood by her side with an unimpressed yet disappointed look on his face. "a proper explanation of why Madam Rosmerta so kindly let us know that not only seven of our seventh year students were on Hogsmeade without permission,"

"But also making a scene and coming to blows." Snape finished, quirking a brow. "Do you know how lucky you are that Madam Rosmerta picked on the fact that you were students?" The potions teacher's eyes fixed on the three Gryffindors before inquiring, "Who started it?"

Silence.

"Merlin's— There is a student in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed outraged. "You all ought to come clean about this one."

More silence.

"Mister Weasley, you seem to be unusually quiet." The Head of Slytherin pointed out.

"Well, you see, professor," George's head, which had until that moment been resting on his arms over the school desk, was tilted up slightly. "I've got a bit of a headache going on." He motioned at the back of his head, in which a patch of dried blood had glued his hair.

"Weasley, I must insist on you to go see Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall's tone, although remaining severe, softened a bit.

"Nah, 's not that bad." George gave Warrington a side look and forced himself to sit upright.

"I'm going to ask again." Snape spoke. "Who started it?" He weighed the possibilities before inquiring, "Mister Weasley?"

"Why me?!" George flinched at his own shouting.

"Do you want me to believe the state Mister Montague was left in was Miss Spinnet's doing? Miss Bell's, perhaps?" The Gryffindor girls grumbled under their breaths, catching the professor's attention. "What was that?"

"I said why us?" Katie questioned with a tinge of indignation. "Is it because we're Gryffindors?"

"Obviously." Snape spat, earning a roll from Mcgonagall, though she didn't oppose her colleague.

Alicia only laughed humorlessly and folded her arms over her chest.

"We can stay here all night, if you'd like it that way." McGonagall stated after around five minutes of just silence.

"Ugh, fine." George let his head fall in the comfort of his forearms again and groaned, "it was me— I started it. Can we go now?"

"What the hell?!"

"Miss Spinnet!" McGonagall scolded her, stomping her desk.

"Can we go now or not?" George's eyes met my shocked gaze briefly.

"Everyone but you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall stated.

"Wait, no." I tapped my foot nervously against the tiles and took at deep breath. "It wasn't him, it was me."

"Miss Y/l/n!" I refused to meet McGonagall's and Snape's face, so I left my eyes casted down, but I still heard the professors' quiet whispers. "What on Godric's name happened?"

Two Hours Earlier

After a Quidditch victory in Slytherin's favor, some of us had resolved to sneak out of the castle and go celebrate with a drink in Hogsmeade.

Turns out some Gryffindors had had the same idea, though the drink they were having was definitely not a celebration.

"Look who's here," Montague nodded in the Gryffindors direction, purposefully walking in their direction. "You're missing half of the team!" He chuckled, not stopping more than a couple of seconds. "Are they crying on their dorms?"

"Get lost, Montague." Katie Bell spat, earning faces from both Graham and Cassius. Alicia Spinnet flipped us off, and George limited himself to give me a small wave, which I returned with a little smile.

"How's the place this crowed?" Kevin questioned with a frown as we tried and failed to find an empty booth.

"No idea." I replied, taking a look around. "I'll go grab the drinks, you look for a place, yeah?" Cassius nodded and I made my way to the counter; I could feel Bell's and Spinnet's dirty looks on me while I ordered the butter beers.

"Celebrating, are we?" My head turned to meet George's form, leaning on the counter besides me.

"Yup." I shortly answered with a proud grin.

"You're missing your seeker." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "I wonder where he's at."

"You know where he's at." I quirked my brow when he played dumb, a smug smile dancing on his lips. "I'm very aware it was you who sent him to the hospital wing."

"It was actually a bludger." He pointed out, giving Madam Rosmerta the coins for a butter beer.

"Oi, what are you doing?" I attempted to shove his hand away, but there was no use.

"Smoothly buying you a drink?" He winked and I felt blood going up to my cheeks. "Just her drink, though." He added, looking at Rosmerta.

"No you're not— he's not." The owner of the Three Broomsticks gave us a look but ended up accepting my money instead.

"Aw c'mon, Y/n" George pouted while Rosmerta passed me the drinks. "I've just lost an important match, let me have a win?"

"You can buy me the next drink," I resolved, chuckling at the way his expression lighted up. "but only if you don't cause trouble."

"Pfft I'm too depressed to cause trouble." I could tell he wasn't joking, though he still made it sound humorous. "Need help with that?" He motioned at the four drinks I was attempting to grab.

"No she doesn't."

George visibly grimaced at the sight of Cassius but, instead of snapping at him, he only leaned on me and pecked my cheek after saying, "No trouble, see?"

"Piss off, Weasley."

"No need to be that rude." I spat, taking two glasses in my hand.

"No need to consort with the enemy." He responded, picking up the remaining jars.

We approached the spot our Quidditch team had taken and had a surprisingly uneventful good time, until Montague started to run his mouth.

"Look at them, they're so pathetic." He obnoxiously laughed.

"Look at whom?" I questioned, a bit lost in my thoughts to know what he was even talking about.

"Don't play dumb." He hissed. "As if you haven't been staring at that Weasel since we entered."

"Ugh, honestly Graham." I lazily played with my jar. "Can't we just enjoy the drink without focusing on the only three Gryffindors in the room?"

"You're one to talk." Cassius mumbled.

"Meaning?"

"Graham's right, you've been staring at him." I pinched the bridge of my nose. They've done this little number so many times that I was no longer embarrassed. "What was that kiss about?"

"Cassius!"

"What kiss?" Graham inquired.

"He kissed her."

"Oh my gosh—" I threw my head down to my forearms in desperation.

"Ew!" Kevin gagged dramatically. "Did you let a blood traitor kiss you with that filthy mouth?"

"You did not just say that." My tone held a serious warning as I looked up at our keeper.

"Great, he's staring." Cassius grumbled.

"Frankly, he could use a lesson." My eyes widened at Graham's words; at first I thought he was joking, but then he grabbed his wand with a wicked smirk.

"Don't make a bloody number." I whispered. "We'll get in trouble."

"Y/l/n, I'm starting to think you're not on our side."

"Montague, if you earn us detention—" my words were cut off by another statement of his.

"No one's gonna know if we're sneaky enough." I looked at Bletchley and Warrington for some back up but they both seemed to be on board with Montague's plan. "What about a little... cruci—" before he could finish the word, I kicked his chair, making him fall to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, kicking his wand away after standing up myself.

"Y/n, calm down." Cassius said.

"He was gonna use the Cruciatus, so maybe no?!"

"Careful, Y/n." By then, Montague had already gotten up; Bletchley had to tug him back for him not to go against me. "If you get along with scum, you're scum."

I didn't fully realise that I had slapped him until I heard a few people gasping; all from sudden, I was very aware that I had attracted unwanted attention.

There was a moment of tense silence between Montague and me, quickly followed by him grabbing my hair and hitting my face against the table, too fast for me to do anything about it.

"OI!" Cassius pulled me away from Montague, my hands covering my most likely broken nose, debating on whether to hold it to stop the nosebleed or not touching it to avoid more pain.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

"They're talking shit." Katie whispered, squinting her eyes at the Slytherins.

"Of course they're talking shit." I responded.

"I'd love to go there and shove those—" Alicia grumbled, tightening the grip on her glass.

"Don't." They both looked at me expectant and I only shrugged. "Y/n asked me not to cause trouble."

Alicia snorted when my eyes travelled to Y/n and Katie mocked me with a silly grin. "Awww, Alicia, he's in love."

"George Weasley is in love" Alicia faked a gag. "With a Slytherin."

"Oh my— you're two shut up." I felt blush creeping up my neck, though I couldn't help the smile twitching up the corners of my lips.

"I mean," Katie shrugged, sharing a look with our friend. "Could be worse."

"Could be Warrington." Before I could respond to Alicia, a loud noise was heard behind me. "Ooooh your princess just kicked Montague." Our chaser commented; we all turned around to look at the Slytherins. "This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like they're talking about us?" I said with a laugh.

"Did... Did she just say 'cruciatus'?" Katie questioned, a tinge of worry in her voice.

"Damn! Okay, time to go." Alicia whispered, getting up right after Y/n had slapped Montague. Katie and I were already following her to the exit when a thud made us stop in our tracks.

"He did not—" Katie started.

"He did." Alicia replied; she was quick to double check on me, but I was quicker to stalk towards Montague. "George no!"

READER'S P. O. V.

I came to the conclusion that we were already in trouble, so I might as well go for it and get Montague back.

Cassius saw that coming and held me back by my forearms, but Graham was being pushed against the table behind him in the blink of an eye.

It took us all aback the way George had stormed in scene; we stood there frozen for a hot second, until Bletchley realised Montague was trying to shake George off in vain while the Gryffindor threw blows at him whilst tackling him to the table.

"George! Stop!" Alicia yelled, coming to stand by my side, unsure of what to do.

"Get off him!" The keeper was the first one to try and remove George from Graham, whose face was starting to look as bloodied as mine. He did succeed for a split second, giving the Slytherin chaser enough room to get back at George.

I shook Cassius off the moment Montague jumped on George to aid the ginger, but before I could do anything, he was punching Graham again, though now he sported a swollen lip himself, along with a cut on his cheek, probably caused by Graham's rings.

This time, when Bletchley tried to shove him off Montague, he ended up with George's elbow digging into his stomach.

"He's gonna kill him!" Bell exclaimed, genuinely worried about the outcome.

"George!" I called his name, hoping it would have an effect, but the beater was too lost on the fight. "Wait— No!!" I tried to grab Cassius' hand when I saw him reaching for one of the heavy jars, but he was quicker to crash it on George's crown.

He hissed, losing balance instantly; his hands went to the back of his head, releasing Montague from his hold. My teammate took the opportunity to kick him off, but before he could try to punch George again, I reached to them, pulling the ginger away and not so accidentally stomping on my Montague in the process.

Just when everything seemed to have calmed down, I noticed Spinnet had thrown herself to Cassius.

Bell was struggling to tug her friend away, Cassius was being pulled back by a mildly hurt Bletchley, Montague was curled up in a ball on the floor and George and I stayed knelt not far from him while I checked his head.

It was only when Madam Rosmerta appeared with a towering, strong employee who managed to separate Spinnet and Warrington that it came to an end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Graham tried to use the Cruciatus curse on George, professor." I explained without meeting McGonagall's eyes. "And I stopped him."

"He— he what?!" The Head of Gryffindor yelled horrified.

"Miss Y/l/n, did you send Mister Montague to the hospital wing?" Snape questioned wearily.

"That was me." George replied before I could make anything up. "And Warrington broke a glass on my head."

"Spinnet tried to kill me!" Warrington shouted.

"If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead!" Alicia yelled back.

"Don't lie to yourself darling!" Bletchley hissed.

"Don't 'darling' her dickhead, I'll jump on you right here!" Bell spat, leaning over her table.

"Shut up, Bell!"

"ENOUGH!" McGonagall shouted. "Fifty points will be substracted from each of you. Your families will be informed of this, and needless to say you won't make any more trips to Hogsmeade."

"Minerva, I think Weasley has earned himself detention for the rest of the year." Snape commented.

"And so did Mister Montague and Miss Y/l/n." She responded. "Now off to sleep, all of you— except from Weasley and Y/l/n, you two go see Madam Pomfrey— no but's, Weasley."

"Yes professor." George sighed, getting up and following me out of the class and into the corridor. "You okay?" His voice was so soft as he fell into step with me that I had to refrain myself from kissing him.

"Nose's probably broken." I shrugged, stealing a look at his crown. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a bit." He was obviously playing it off, but I didn't say a thing about it. "I'm sorry for that little number."

"Nonsense! As if it was your fault Montague's a douche." I reassured him.

"So... you're not mad at me?"

"I'm only mad at the fact that I didn't get to punch him." I replied with a chuckle triggering a smile on his. "Plus," I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating for a moment before adding, "it was kinda hot."

George let out a shocked snort, his whole face redder than mine while words stumbled incoherently out of his mouth, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence.

"Don't do it again, though."

"Uh- yeah— NO- I mean, no- I-I won't— I don't do this often—" I giggled at his stammering and brushed his pinky with my own. He cleared his throat and took the hint, intertwining his fingers with mines. "You know, technically it was you who caused trouble so..."

"So?"

"Can I still buy you a drink?" He sheepishly requested, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand while we reached the hospital wing.

"We're banned from Hogsmeade, though." I reminded him.

"Well, I might know a way of getting there without being noticed."

"I'm in then." I stated. "Only if you promise we'll stay out of trouble."

"Can't promise that." He squeezed my hand and let it go when Madam Pomfrey spotted us. "But I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will." I tugged on his sleeve and placed a kiss on his cheek before following the healer's directions.

[13uswntimagines]

Better To Be Friends Than Competition (Lindsey x Reader)

Author’s Note: This Technically wasn’t requested, but @literaryhedgehog and i had a blast writing this. It’s the Harry Potter AU. Basically, reader is a muggleborn who really wants to be a chaser, but maybe there’s a better position for her on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This is the beginning of what will be a multi-part series following the building romance between two amazing characters and how our golden octet help them out along the way. 

@sleep-deprived-athlete​

“Alright, you’ve all been told the rules and had the chance to warm up. So let’s start by dividing into groups. Anyone who wants to be a seeker follow Mia there to the far side of the field. Beaters to the left with Foudy. Keepers to the goalposts with Hope. And chasers with me up top,” Brandi said with a wave of her hand, kicking off of the ground and heading towards where her group was going to meet. 

You snuck a glance to either side of you as you also kick off and head to your position, trying to guess who out of the eight students around you is going to be your biggest competition. Surely you thought more people would have wanted a chance at a spot on one of the best teams at Hogwarts. Tryouts had been packed for the last two years. 

You wondered which drill Brandi was going to start with as you approached the group (said woman was idily tossing a quaffle lightly in her hands as she talked to another one of your competition). For the last 2 years it was always a set of passing drills, where would-be chasers played a very complicated game of catch up and down the pitch. 

Maybe those tryouts were supposed to be private, but how else could you prepare for them if you didn’t know what to expect? 

Quidditch was honestly a really weird sport. Well, American football made less sense, but you hadn’t exactly studied the rules as extensively as you had Quidditch. Like, the game literally would not end until someone caught the snitch. According to Quidditch through the Ages a game had literally lasted for months. You remembered watching a tennis game that lasted for four days before, but generally the muggle sports you grew up with were more consistent in how long each game took.  

“Oh yeah”, you thought, watching the beaters line up across the pitch, “and there is also a ball charmed to try and knock people off their broom. That’s not normal.” Though it was something your dad found hilarious. 

Sports were always something the two of you could talk about, even before you found out you had magic. He loved the fact that you loved football as much as he did, and was thrilled by the fact that you had enough talent to play it in your primary school. 

Though with your hand eye coordination you had done better with cricket, and baseball the few times you had a chance to play it in gym. So when you had joined the wizarding world you naturally had gotten into quidditch. Learned everything you could about the game so you could give him detailed play by plays about the games when you sent owls home. 

At this point you were dying to play. You were too short to be a beater or a keeper, but you knew you could be a chaser. You could catch like nobody’s business, and you had at least half of the tactics in The Beginner's Quidditch Playbook memorized. You were going to be the best damn chaser Hogwarts had ever seen. 

“Hey space captain, you ready for this?” 

“What?” You froze, heat flooding your cheeks at being caught not paying attention. You slowly turned to face the new presence. 

You knew the girl. Well. You knew of the girl (it was impossible not to know about the very pretty blond girl). She was in your house and year (and therefore in your dorm as well as all your classes) but the two of you had never really interacted before. She seemed to already know everyone and everything when she got to Hogwarts, so it didn’t really seem like she was looking for friends, and it was hard enough trying to figure out your new life without having people look at you strangely when you didn’t know a word they used. Not that Lindsey, you thought that’s her name anyway, had done that, but other purebloods did. It was easier figuring things out on your own to start, and by the time you did, you and Lindsey had already established yourselves in different friend groups. Was her name Lindsey? A Slytherin in your year was always calling her strange nicknames, so it was hard to tell. 

“The drill. Are you ready for the drill space captain?” The girl asked again. 

“Yeah, but I’m not a captain. I’m a second year, like you,” You said softly, your eyebrows furrowing. Maybe that was a wizard saying, but you had no idea what she was talking about. Your heart also dropped just a touch because if she thought you were a captain then she had absolutely no idea who you were. 

She shook her head with a giggle (showing off her dimples). “My dad says that’s what muggles call a person with their head in the clouds,” 

You cocked your head to the side, your brain running a million miles an hour to try and figure out what she meant. But then it clicked. “Oh you mean space cadet,” 

“I guess,” She shrugged, seemingly unbothered about the correct verbiage. 

The whistle blowing brought both of your attention back towards Brandi and the first set of would-be chasers beginning the crossing drill. You coughed to hide a scoff when Lynn Williams raced at breakneck speed up the pitch, and released the quaffle at least 30 feet off where the chasing captain had instructed. 

You shook your head at the play. It was too sloppy, too open and it would never connect well with JJ and Alex up top. 

“Not impressed by what you see?” Lindsey asked, her eyebrow quirking up (trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t interested in your answer. You were her competition after all). 

“Not after Alex basically destroyed the same course last year. She’s got an 85% accuracy rating on goal and nearly 60% of her shots come off of left crosses. Williams isn’t getting high enough on the pitch to provide an adequate pass,”  You mumbled out quickly, wincing when Lynn made the same mistake on the way back, nearly sending her partner (a girl in the year below you named Mal) into the stands to catch it (though you were slightly impressed that Mal managed to grab it before it landed in the seats). 

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Her throws tend to either go too short or too long. Even if it doesn’t go directly to her partner it at least needs to be consistent so during a game the person she’s throwing it to knows where to intercept it before the other team does,” Lindsey said, taking a hand off her broom to shield her eyes.

“She’s fast but it won’t help if she forces the other chaser off her line to provide service to Alex in front of the posts,” You huffed. Having her on that side would be a positioning nightmare. It left the team open and vulnerable to so many different attacking options. 

“I am not entirely sure what that means,” Lindsey said, smirking as she looked sideways at you, “but it sounds like you don’t think she’s competition, which is good news for us!’

You opened your mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Brandi’s whistle. “Alright next pair up,” 

You gulped and tightened your fingers on your broom “Guess it’s showtime,” You muttered, surging forward to the starting line. 

“Good luck space captain, you’re gonna need it,” Lindsey called back towards you with a wink, taking the ball from Brandi. 

You shook your head. You wouldn’t need luck. A fucking golden retriever could beat out the performance you had just whitnessed. As long as you didn’t fall off your brooms, you both would be fine. 

***

You raced towards the hoops, reaching your arm out to pluck the perfectly timed ball out of its arc towards the ground. Okay, Lindsey was good. Really good. She HAD to have known how bad Lynn’s throws were, because hers were positively perfect. Your throws were good, but Lindsey had this way of arching the ball up through the air if a perfect loop so it practically fell into your hands. There was no way she didn’t practice over the summer. 

You neared the posts, starting to make your u-turn to pass the ball back when a flash of gold caught your eyes. Before you really thought it through, the hand anchoring you to your broom had already lifted to snatch it out of the air on instinct. You had played cricket for most of your life- it was instinct to reach out and grab a ball that looked like it was about to fly into your face. 

The next few seconds happened almost in slow motion. As your fingers closed around the cool metal, you realized just how far to your side you had to lean to reach the object, and how far off balance it had put you. Your legs crossed tightly as you flipped completely upside down on your broom, entirely unwilling to let go of the object you had just caught or the large quaffle still tucked tightly under your arm. Before you really knew what was happening, you were staring straight at the ground, your legs the only thing keeping you in the air. 

“Holy shit, holy shit. Um, hey Lindsey?” You called, eyes on the ground below you. 

“What?” You heard her call. You idly wondered why one of the captains hadn’t put a stop to this yet and put you out of your misery. 

“Catch?” You threw the quaffle, well tossed it really, up into the air towards where you thought the other girl was. You knew it was going to be short, but also knew that she was going to catch it anyway. She really was that good. With your now free hand you reached up and grabbed the handle of your broom so you could pull yourself to it and rotate back to an upright position. 

Only then did you look down at the tiny ball fluttering in your hand. The tiny, almost leathery, wings flapped like it was waving hello. You stared at it in awe, your lips ticking up. You had just caught the golden snitch. You never thought you would get to touch the snitch, much less catch it. 

“Hey you” a voice called from the pitch behind you. You turned to look as Mia flew from where the seeker candidates were staring hopelessly at the sky around them to land on the pitch. “Get down here. Yeah, you on the drills.” She motioned down to the pitch, indicating where you should land, then turned her head to call over her shoulder, “Brandi I’m taking number 2.” 

You quickly flew towards where she had pointed, shakily dismounting from your broom. You weren’t sure if it was fear, adrenaline or nerves, but your legs felt like jelly. You clutched the little ball in your hand so tightly that you were sure there was going to be an imprint in your palm later. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing in the chaser section?” Mia said, tucking her broom under her arm and throwing her hand up towards the group of would be chasers throwing a ball around at varying distances. (You tried not to wince when Lynn nearly pegged Mal in the face again). 

“Um, trying to be a chaser? I was always a good forward so I thought it might fit?” You mumbled with a shrug, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand. a light shade of pink covered your cheeks. It was a little embarrassing how clueless you were with the magical world sometimes, and how even after being here for two full years, you still felt completely out of your depth. 

“That’d be like using a cauldron as a teacup because they’re both the same shape. It’d work but what a waste!” 

“I…- I have no idea what that means. I know I caught the wrong thing, and I’m sorry. I’ll leave now if that’s what you want,” You stuttered out, suddenly finding the way your shoe poked the pitch underneath you interesting. 

“No, kid you misunderstand me. Look, you, what’s your name again?” Mia stepped closer, tilting her head as she looked at you. 

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n,” 

“Right, Y/n, you could play chaser. You’d even be a decent one with a bit of work. But that’d be a damn waste of talent. You’re a natural seeker. I’m not upset with you for catching the wrong ball, I’m upset you weren’t over in my section trying to catch the snitch in the first place. Look at that lot over there, they still think it’s somewhere over the stands.” Mia stepped next to you and turned, gestured to the group of seeker hopefuls flying in circles near the Ravenclaw seats. 

“Oh,” You breathed out, following her hand to look at the large group. They were squinting towards the stands and swooping low at whatever they thought they had spotted, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the snitch had been caught on the other side of the pitch and that Mia wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice spotting this ball,” Mia said, tapping the snitch trapped in your hand. “I was able to see it within about a minute of it being released, and have been watching it since. None of them saw it when it was on their side of the field, but you saw it instantly- even when you were focused on something else. That is a talent Y/n. Why didn’t you try out for seeker in the first place?”

“I didn’t know how to practice for it, and that-. It wasn’t like any of the other positions I have ever played,” You muttered, trying to cover your insecurity with a nonchalant shrug. It seemed like the position that required the most innate ability, and as a muggleborn you didn’t think you had any. 

Mia nodded slowly looking at you. “Right,” she said, turning and mounting her broom, “I wanna run you through some drills. Come on.”

You blinked at the woman as she hovered in front of you. Your eyes darting between Mia and the object still clutched tightly in your hand. Where were you supposed to put it? Were you supposed to let it go? 

You brought your palm up so it was level with your eyes and opened your hand, half expecting the snitch to fly away. It didn’t. It’s wings slowly unfurled and it waved docilely at you. Like an old friend. 

“What’re you waiting for?” Mia called down at you.

“It won’t fly away!” You called back, looking up at the woman, who rolled her eyes indulgently. 

“Of course not, it’s yours. You caught it, and you can watch it like some love-struck puppy later- stash it in your pocket and come on!”

***

You were having a fucking blast, even though you had no idea what you were in for when you joined the seeker group. Every year when you watched tryouts, you never payed attention to what they had to do, as you never thought you would have to do it. Even without the advantage, you were killing it. 

You had been separated into pairs, just like the chasers were, but Mia had enchanted clear balls (the size of tennis balls) to randomly fly through the air. The balls were given a 5 second head start before you and your partner were allowed to race to catch it. Now this was familiar, the jostling of arms while racing after a ball and trying to prevent someone else from getting to it before you. Only once out of five rounds did your opponent get to the ball before you, but really, that elbow to your ribs was a red card if you’d ever seen one. 

Then everyone took turns hovering in the air as Mia took ten of the enchanted balls and flicked them up haphazardly one by one every five seconds. The goal was to catch as many of them as you could before they hit the ground, even as they were sent up in different directions and some much higher in the air than others. You didn’t get all of them, but the seven you saved still seemed to impress the other seeker candidates who didn’t scowl. The second highest number saved was six, but that girl still congratulated you as you got off your broom, since “those last few of them went way further out than they did for me- and you were an inch away from that eighth one!” 

You nodded, smiling at her, though you were probably more embarrassed than she realized about that eighth one. That one had been sent towards the far side of the field, where you looked up to meet Lindsey’s eyes. You had been placed perfectly to catch the ball as it started falling from it’s apex, but in the moment your hand faltered, and it brushed by your hand instead. You cursed and considered going after it, but then you flew back to where Mia had already released one of the last two on the other side of the field. 

“Alright, for our last drill, we’re going to try to catch a real snitch again,” Mia said, pulling another golden ball out from inside her robes and holding it between her thumb and pointer finger. Its wings sprung out and flapped wildly, unlike the slow waving of the one in your pocket. 

Everything in you wanted to catch the little golden ball. To tame it like you had the other one. For it to sit calmly in your hand and wave hello like an old friend. 

“Isn’t the other one still out there?” The same girl asked, her head tilting to the side. 

“It’s been taken care of,” Mia smirked and shook her head, sending a little glance in your direction. The girl stared at her wide eyed, opening and closing her mouth as though she wanted to say more, but Mia again cut her off with a stern glare. ”As I was saying, the first of you to catch it gets to keep it and also gets a boost to the points on their scorecard. Now line up,” 

You all flew low on the pitch, forming a circle with Mia and the snitch at its center. Your eyes never left the frantically flapping little ball as you waited for her whistle to blow. There was no way it was going to escape you and if you got to show off for the would be chasers watching you near the posts, that was fine with you too. 

***

“Congratulations Y/n! There’s no way you won’t get picked to be seeker,” the girl said, after Mia released you, promising that the results of the tryouts would be posted next week. 

“Oh, um thanks-...” You said trailing off towards the end, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t know her name. 

“Oh, sorry. You missed introductions at the beginning. I’m Savannah, from two years above you.” Savannah grinned at you, a bit ruefully. “You know, I thought this was going to be my year to nail the seeker position. But with you on the team, there’s no WAY we’re gonna lose to Slytherin. And Lloyd can stop looking so smug about the cup win last year.”

“The only reason they were better is because they had Amy and Sydney scoring.  They won despite her and her stupid tactics. If Slytherin actually got a decent seeker then we’d be in trouble,” Lindsey said, throwing her arm over your shoulder and stepping to walk between you and Savannah. 

“Carli’s decent, just distracted I think. She had NEWTS along with scouters and stuff,” you muttered, a bit defensively. You know you weren’t supposed to like the Slytherins- house competition and all that- but Carli’s strategy was pretty impressive. The recruiters certainly seemed to think so, you heard rumors that the recruiters from the Wasps and Arrows had a bidding war before the Harpies showed interest. 

“Pshh it was just the Harpies recruiter. Even if they have Potter, she’d still probably tank their win streak. At least that’d help my team,” Lindsey snorted, shaking her head. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. The Harpies were the second oldest team in the league, and since they recruited Ginny they had been on a tear taking down the Cannons and the Magpies in the final games of the European cup three years running. You thought Carli’s strategy would fit nicely in their ranks. 

“I’m pretty sure there were Wasps recruiters and Magpies guys here too,” Savannah said to Lindsey. You noticed her eyes glanced towards Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder as she smiled widely. Lindsey dramatically rolled her eyes. 

“Which team is yours?” You asked softly, leaning your head on Lindsey's shoulder as you trudged towards the locker room, ignoring Savannah. 

“The cannons of course,” Lindsey said confidently. Savannah seemed to be hiding a smirk, and waved goodbye at you as she headed into the locker room. 

“They’re pretty alright, but Ronaldo is a little too cocky for me. Sinclare and Potter together are a lethal combo for the Harpies and with Angerer in goal they’re like unstoppable,” You hummed thoughtfully. You also liked that the Harpies were an all female team. 

“Ugh, you sound like Emily,” Lindsey said, rolling her eyes. “She and Sam are giant Magpies supporters.” 

“I mean the Magpies have a 75% score rate while the Cannons are only at a 60. And Messi catches the snitch within the first hour 80% of the time, while Ronaldo’s catches take about 85 minutes on average,” you rattled off. So maybe you were a little too into statistics. At least your dad never had to worry about your math skills. 

“No way, they’re super into team stats too! Maybe you can help me convince Emily and Sam that the Cannons are the best team!”

“But Emily and Sam, whoever they are, are right. The stats don’t lie,” You said with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Oh, Emily is my friend in Slytherin and Sam‘s in Hufflepuff. I’ll introduce you later.” Lindsey said waving a hand in the air. “Anyway, the Magpies may have Messi, but the Cannons have heart! And isn’t that what really matters to make a good team great?”

You paused, pulling Lindsey to a stop beside you. “I know they don’t teach math here, but Statistics beat heart any day.” 

Lindsey laughed and shoved you playfully to the side. “You haven’t even met them and already you’re ganging up on me.” 

“I’m just stating facts. The hat almost put me in Ravenclaw cause I just love random factoids so much,” you smirked, tucking yourself back under her outstretched arm (it was just so warm and it made you feel… safe). 

“Well, I’m glad you’re in Gryffindor. It's way better to have you as a teammate than competition Space captain. Now let’s go- if we hurry we can probably get to the library to work on that potions essay before curfew.” 

[romioneficfest]

Tutor Girl

Title: Tutor Girl Prompt/Day: Day 10 - Movie/TV/Book Fusion Tumblr name:  Rating: T Brief summary: Inspired by One Tree Hill Season 1 Episode 3 - Are You True? Any possible triggering/warning tags: None

Ignoring the vicious pounding in her head, Hermione tapped her wand against the giant pile of musty books, giving them the command to sort themselves into their rightful place. She massaged her temple as she waited for them to finish. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to the end of her shift at the library when she could curl up next to the fire in the Ravenclaw common room with her book before bed.

With her tidying completed, she returned to Madam Pince’s desk to collect her things. Knowing the librarian hated any sort of noise, Hermione gave her a curt nod to say goodbye then threw her far-too-heavy bag over her shoulder before finally leaving.

Although the corridors were already dark, she didn’t have to worry about being caught out after-hours, thanks to her Prefect badge. If she came across Filch as she made her way to the Ravenclaw tower, Hermione could just say she was on rounds. He wouldn’t know any different anyway.

She lit her wand then turned the corner, making her way towards the great staircase. Distracted by the thought of reaching her destination, Hermione didn’t notice the shadow stepping out from behind the suit of armour until it was standing directly in front of her.

“Hey!”

Hermione jumped a mile, placing her hand over her pounding heart as she struggled to maintain her composure. She lifted her wand, ignoring the tremble of the light as she surveyed her assailant; a tall, redheaded Gryffindor.

Growling in frustration, she dropped her wand to her side again and righted her bag before carrying on her way, trying her best to ignore Ron Weasley as he fell into step with her, easily matching her furious pace with his gangly legs.

“Can I help you?” snapped Hermione.

She had no time for the wizard ever since he’d started making her best friend’s life a living hell for wanting to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year. Harry had it hard enough as it is, without the added grief from Ron Weasley.

“Well, I hope so. You’re the lucky witch who gets to be my tutor.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t think so, Ron.”

He carried on walking alongside her, frowning at the piece of parchment in his hand. “But you’re Hermione Granger, right?”

She stopped in her tracks, grumbling in frustration as she snatched the paper out of his hands, lifting her wand so that she could read the writing on it better. “I’m sorry. I’m best friends with Harry Potter.”

“Oh, well. My commiserations then,” Ron quipped in return.

Hermione’s eyes rolled so hard, she thought she might have gotten a glimpse of the back of her head. She waved the note at him. “I’ll take this and speak to Professor McGonagall in the morning and see if I can get you assigned to someone else.”

Folding the parchment up neatly, she stowed it in the front pocket of her bag and continued making her way to the staircase, trying to put as much distance in between her and Ron as possible.

“No, no, wait.” He hurried to catch up with her, grabbing her arm to stop her from running away. Goosebumps covered her flesh as his fingers made contact with her skin, although she did her best to ignore the sensation. “There is nobody else. I’d be fine with that if there was—”

“...if there were,” she interjected, unable to stop herself from correcting him. A blush creeped up her neck as soon as she realised what she’d done.

“See, you’re helping me already!” Ron gave her a lop-sided grin. It lit up his ocean blue eyes, even in the darkness of the corridor.

“Look, I can’t help you, and on top of that, I won’t help you. Got it?” Pulling her arm out of his grip, she pushed past him, deliberately hitting him with her shoulder. She bit her lip as pain radiated from the point of contact. Ron was fitter than he looked, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing her aggression hurt her more than it did him.

“Don’t you worry about me, Hermione Granger,” he called after her. “I reckon I’m going to be just terrific. I mean, that’s what getting a T in Potions means, right?”

A rush of guilt washed over her as she hurried away. Although she wasn’t a Hufflepuff, the desire to help was strong, even for an awful wizard like Ron Weasley. But she couldn’t allow herself to get caught up with him, not with everything else going on.

⁂

After a restless night, Hermione sat eating her breakfast alone at the Ravenclaw table. Ron’s words bounced around her head every time she closed her eyes. As a member of the tutor group, it was her job to help students who needed it, and she hated letting someone down. Still, someone like Ernie might still be able to do an okay job with the Gryffindor Keeper, as long as they didn’t clash heads.

To add to Hermione’s anguish, Harry had owled and asked to meet her late last night. The Quidditch team had poured water into his kit bag, drowning all his books and his dry clothes and he was finally at his wits end with them. He wanted to quit, and it took a long time for Hermione to talk him off the ledge.

It was so unfair. He’d done nothing wrong, apart from wanting to join the team all of a sudden. They were short of a seeker anyway, and Harry was good. She just wished there was something she could do to help him.

A flurry of activity at the Gryffindor table caught her eye. The Quidditch team sans Harry were saying goodbye to each other, leaving Ron Weasley, their ringleader, alone to finish his breakfast. The idea hit her like a bludger, and she was up on her feet before she even had the chance to say Blibbering Humdinger.

Slamming the piece of parchment from last night down on the table, Hermione slid into the seat opposite Ron. Her sudden appearance caused him to choke on his toast. Although the thought of him passing away in front of her was very appealing, she wasn’t one for murdering her classmates, however annoying they might be.

Lifting her wand with a sigh, she cast the charm to clear his airway. “Anapneo.”

Ron thumped his chest then took a huge swig of pumpkin juice. When he finally recovered, he flashed her that huge lop-sided grin again. “Thanks for that. What are you doing here anyway, Tutor Girl? This isn’t the Ravenclaw table.”

“Look, I know you’re struggling in Potions, and you might end up getting kicked off the team if you can’t get your grades up. Snape is super strict, I get it. And if you’re genuine about wanting to learn, then I can help you.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “That’s great! I—”

“I have two conditions,” she interrupted. “One: Harry does not find out about this, ever. Okay?” She waited for his nod before continuing, “And number two, you leave him alone. No more pranks or hazing. Just let him play on the team.”

Ron’s eyes burned into her with an intensity Hermione had never experienced before. It was like he could see into her soul. She resisted every instinct that told her to run away, and fast. Instead, she slid her hands under her legs, and gripped hold of the wooden bench she was sitting on.

Finally, he spoke again. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Breathing out a long sigh of relief, Hermione relaxed. “Okay, good. Tomorrow morning, seven on the bench outside greenhouse three.” She pushed herself off the bench and smoothed out the wrinkles in her starched grey skirt.

“Wait, why can’t we go to the library to study? Rumour has it you live there when you’re not in class.”

“Oh ha ha. It’s greenhouse three or nothing. Take it or leave it.”

“Alright then.” Ron shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Seemingly done with the conversation, he continued with his breakfast.

No longer hungry, Hermione hurried back to the Ravenclaw table before anyone else saw them. She abandoned her half-eaten meal, scooped up her things then made her way out of the Great Hall, giving one final backwards glance at Ron, who was smiling to himself as he ate, looking very pleased with himself.

A flutter of excitement filled her belly as she passed into the antechamber and made her way to her first class of the morning. Maybe taking a chance on Ron Weasley might not be so bad after all.

[vivithefolle]

Vivs, I came across this from a "Ron's a jealous slacker" fan, please use your expertness to contradict this stupid statement. Y do ron stans refuse to accept that he just wanted attention without actually doing any hardwork! Didn't he just desire being a headboy & a quidditch captain? He would have achieved it if he would stop being a self piting, lazy person & actually study or practice to achieve his dreams! he doesn't deserve any sympathy we live in actual world where hardwork matters only.

The funniest thing about this is that they’re actually talking about Harry.

Harry actually never did put in effort to achieve things. Except this once when he mastered the Patronus at 13, we’ll give him that. But Quidditch? Oh he just hops on a broom and woah suddenly he’s flying so well he’s in the Quidditch team and gets a great broom and is totally the bestest and a total fucking Mary Sue! Fighting against Voldemort? Well thank god for Loveus Ex Machina that always saves your ass without ever making you lift a finger ever! And how he defeated Voldemort too? With a spell he learned in second year and he only won that fight because ~surprise~ Voldemort’s wand wasn’t okay with killing Harry for bullshit plot reasons. Amazing. Wonderful. Inspiring. Our hero, everyone, never actually worked for anything a day in his life, ever.

Meanwhile Ron? Actually worked hard to get on the Quidditch team, which was something he dreamed of. Actually moved his ass to learn to fight and didn’t have the luxury of ~lurrrrve~ to excuse him out of fights.  Ron actually did MORE than Harry ever did, but of course, protagonist-centred favouritism paired with mindless Harmonian propaganda won’t let you realize that because it’s just so much easier to imagine yourself as ~the special one :))~.

...

Ron is lazy you say.

Did he really believe he was better than Ron? No, said the small voice defiantly. Was that true? Harry wondered, anxiously probing his own feelings. I’m better at Quidditch, said the voice. But I’m not better at anything else. That was definitely true, Harry thought; he was no better than Ron in lessons. But what about outside lessons? What about those adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had had together since they had started at Hogwarts, often risking much worse than expulsion? Well, Ron and Hermione were with me most of the time, said the voice in Harry’s head. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 9

Harry must be lazy too then.

Ah, but Harry’s word isn’t enough, since, after all, he does say himself that Hermione is like his sister, yet there’s a bunch of irreducible folks who insist on disregarding their hero’s agency whenever it is convenient for them. Therefore let’s go grab quotes that will settle the matter once and for all:

Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks. - Prisoner of Azkaban, chapter 15

Doing his own work AND working on something that won’t give him extra credit once Hermione finally swallowed her pride and apologized (for the first and last time in the books). But yeah totally lazy blah blah blah.

“But what have you got your broom for, you haven’t been flying, have you?” Harry asked. “I — well — well, okay, I’ll tell you, but don’t laugh, all right?” Ron said defensively, turning redder with every second. “I-I thought I’d try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I’ve got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh.” &#145;“I’m not laughing,” said Harry. Ron blinked. “It’s a brilliant idea! It’d be really cool if you got on the team! I’ve never seen you play Keeper, are you good?” “I’m not bad,” said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at Harry’s reaction. “Charlie, Fred, and George always made me Keep for them when they were training during the holidays.” “So you’ve been practicing tonight?” “Every evening since Tuesday... just on my own, though, I’ve been trying to bewitch Quaffles to fly at me, but it hasn’t been easy and I don’t know how much use it’ll be.” Ron looked nervous and anxious. “Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven’t stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect.” - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 13

……………. Well damn. Remember how hard Harry had to train to get the Seeker position?

Oh that’s right, I forgot: HE DIDN’T! Because Chosen One Boy-Who-Lived poor orphan protagonist blah blah.

Ron though? Ron WORKED to get his position. Ron practiced, Ron worked out a way to practice alone by enchanting stuff to fly to him. When did Harry do that? Ah yes, he didn’t, because he had Oliver coaching him so he never had to figure out how to train by himself.

Meanwhile Ron was reading two years of Charms notes with his fingers in his ears, his lips moving soundlessly; Seamus was lying flat on his back on the floor, reciting the definition of a Substantive Charm, while Dean checked it against The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5; and Parvati and Lavender, who were practicing basic loco-motion charms, were making their pencil cases race each other around the edge of the table. Dinner was a subdued affair that night. Harry and Ron did not talk much, but ate with gusto, having studied hard all day. Hermione, on the other hand, kept putting down her knife and fork and diving under the table for her bag, from which she would seize a book to check some fact or figure. Ron was just telling her that she ought to eat a decent meal or she would not sleep that night, when her fork slid from her limp fingers and landed with a loud tinkle on her plate. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 31

Another one for “EW FOOD HOW DARE THESE TEENAGERS EAT, DISGUSTING”, and also oh, surprise, Ron actually worked. Incredible. Can you believe. Isn’t he supposed to be lazy. Woah. I totally and utterly did not expect this at all.

Of course I must bring up something else -

“How many hours d’you think you’re doing a day?” he demanded of Harry and Ron as they queued outside Herbology, a manic gleam in his eyes. “I dunno,” said Ron. “A few...” “More or less than eight?” “Less, I s’pose,” said Ron, looking slightly alarmed. “I’m doing eight,” said Ernie, puffing out his chest. “Eight or nine. &#145;I’m getting an hour in before breakfast every day. Eight’s my average. I can do ten on a good weekend day. I did nine and a half on Monday. Not so good on Tuesday — only seven and a quarter. Then on Wednesday —” - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 31

Okay first off - Ron estimates his study time to be “a few [hours]”. That’s more than I ever did for my own exams and wouldn’t you know it, I passed them.

Second off: THIS CONVERSATION IS CLEARLY MEANT TO BE HUMOROUS AND YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE THE SAME REACTION AS RON.

As in “holy shit this guy is insane”.

To top it off, here’s also Harry’s reaction in case some people still care about their hero’s agency:

Harry was deeply thankful that Professor Sprout ushered them into greenhouse three at that point, forcing Ernie to abandon his recital.

Harry isn’t impressed. Harry isn’t awed. Harry isn’t filled with sudden godly inspiration to “ditch Ron and join a study group and become the smartestest in the school!!!”

No, Harry doesn’t care for studying and spending hours bending over a book. Harry would like to pass his exams and then never think about them again.

But the only thing Harry felt he was really good at was Quidditch. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if he was lousy at them, at least he’d have someone friendly to help him. - Chamber of Secrets

Harry wouldn’t have expected Ron to help him had Ron never helped him before. So we can extrapolate that not only does Ron does his homework, but he will also take time and effort to help Harry out if need be.

But of course Harry doesn’t need or care for Ron totally absolutely of course yes. (Another one for the “Harry picks Ron over Hermione” guys!!! Canon is on our side, sorry not sorry!)

...

Also, let it be said:

we live in actual world where hardwork matters only

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah.

Look at Kim Kardashian, at Donald Trump, at basically any billionaire. Did they really do any hard work, or did they build their whole career out of exploitation, cheap scandals and their parents’ already-existing fortune?

In our world, Harry would be rich because Mummy and Daddy left him a trust fund, Hermione would have Mummy and Daddy’s money to help her get by until she can find some dead-end job she hates because the job market is shit, and poor Ron would be stuck in poverty because he was poor to begin with and getting out of poverty is much, much harder than getting rich.

[imagine-that]

Quidditch lesson

Warnings: so much fluff your teeth will rot

Pairing: Oliver Wood x reader

AN: hi, I’m in love with Oliver Wood and proud of it, that bby is absolutely a keeper on and off the quidditch pitch

You run excitedly into the Gryffindor common room, racing over to your boyfriend and pecking him on the cheek.

“Hey.” You greet, sitting down in the chair next to him.

“Hi.” He says, not looking up from the papers in front of you. It takes you a second but you notice the other teens crowded around him, looking down at the same papers in concentration.

“What’re you lot up to?” You ask, playing with his hair with one hand.

“Wood is working on a new Quidditch play.” One of the twins says enthusiastically. The others nod eagerly, turning their attention back to the papers.

“Oh... well, are you coming on the Hogsmeade trip later this week?” You ask, looking at your boyfriend with your head tilted to reach the level of his.

“I might. It depends how this play works out.” He murmurs, his quill flying across the paper in concentration.

“Okkkk... then maybe you’ll sit with me at dinner tonight?” You ask hopefully, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug from the back.

“I have a lot of homework to catch up on, I was planning on just eating small and coming back here early to work.” He says with a frown, finally looking up at you in an apologetic way you dread seeing.

“I can help!” You offer, desperately trying to find a time in the both of your busy schedules for each other.

“Y/n darling, I would love to spend some time with you. But you and I both know I’d get nothing done as long as you’re near.” He points out, making you smile a little against your will.

“That’s true.” You pout. “Okay. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” You swear, sitting back down and reaching over to touch his hand supportively.

To some, it was a wonder the two of you were still together with the lack of quality time you had together. To the both of you, you were inseparable at heart, even if it wasn’t physically. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the absence of his presence when he was busy.

He smiles up at you gratefully, scooting closer to you and giving you a kiss on the lips, holding you in his arms for a long and sweet moment, ignoring the hollering of the quidditch team around him.

“Yeah yeah, alright.” You call with a laugh, waiting for them to settle down. “Now back to work, all of you.” You order jokingly, standing back up and pecking Oliver on the forehead before walking off to think of the best way to spend time with him.

——————————————————

“Y/n, are you sure about this?” Oliver asks warily as he lugged the trunk of quidditch balls onto the field.

“Yes Wood I’m quite sure.” You respond, hands on your hips.

He sighs with a small smile, pulling open the lid to reveal the equipment.

“Ok so remind me again which ball is which?” You ask hopefully. He laughs slightly, having explained it to you many times while watching matches but not overly upset about going over the game again.

“This here is the quaffle. It’s the one the chasers use to make the goals into those hoops.” He explains as he pulls out the scarlet leather ball and points at the three hoops off in the distance.

You roll your eyes, laughing a little. “I know that much already.” You giggle and he looks up at you with a grin.

“Well you did ask me to explain which is which.” He argues and you nod in agreement.

“The bludgers are the nastier ones, you might need the bat.” He continues, offering you the stick. You take it, quickly smacking one of the balls off into the air when it comes at you.

“Hm... seems you would make an excellent beater.” He says and you beam at the compliment.

“Thank you, I’m glad to have the approval of the expert.” You tease with a grin, giggling as he playfully scoffs.

“Then you have the snitch.” He continues, pulling out the shimmering golden ball.

“That one is mean. It’s pretty but evil. I know that as well.” You note, admiring the shiny trinket.

He chuckles, sticking it back in the box.

“That is very true.” He admits. “The beaters, as you know, keep the bludgers away from the seeker, the chasers and the keeper, me.” He explains even more, getting heavily into explaining the game he loved so much to you.

“I mean, of course you’d be the keeper. In the game and in love.” You tease, with a smile, reaching up to him and planting a kiss on his cheek again.

“Aww thanks love.” He says, a grin of his own plastered to his face as he goes to put the other balls back into the chest alongside the snitch.

“Woah, woah, woah. I thought you were going to teach me how to play!” You exclaim, raising an eyebrow.

“Y/n, quidditch can be a pretty dangerous game-.” He starts with a sigh but not before you can interrupt.

“I’m well aware. But you play it all the time and you’re obviously perfectly fine. I want to learn so I can spend more time with you.” You argue, crossing your arms over your chest.

You understood why he would be anxious or worried about you, the game was risky. But you wanted to be around your boyfriend more. You didn’t want to have to wait for quidditch to be over to even get a second of his time.

“Alright let me fetch the brooms.” He groans in surrender. You clap your hands together in victory, watching as he accios them to you.

“I didn’t realize you could do that with a broom!” You exclaim happily, running over to grab one of them from him.

As you get a grip on it, his tightens.

“You know how to get it to fly, correct?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Yes Oliver, I took flying in first year, same as you.” You groan, tugging on it again.

He finally lets go, letting you go over the routine to get it mounted while he runs over to release the balls again, afterwards getting on his own broom with ease.

“Ok, you can do this y/n. I believe in you.” He says reassuringly, tossing the bat over to you. You catch it in one hand easily.

He looks at you curiously before flying upwards a little bit.

“Sure you haven’t played before?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

You shrug a little, a smirk on your face. “I may have played a few times with my family over the summer.” You explain, flying around in a circle around him to show your flying skills.

Soon, a ball comes flying at you and just as your instincts tell you to dodge, you instead smack it across the middle with the bat, a loud whacking sound in the air.

“Damn!” Oliver calls out, looking at you admiringly, making you blush.

“You act as though I’ve won the quidditch World Cup.” You call back with a laugh.

Next he grabs the quaffle, tossing it over to you. You catch it hastily, having only a bit of trouble with your coordination. You fly over to where Oliver is, flying up and down and around him, trying to throw him off before you finally toss it into the hoop with some difficulty due to the bat already under your arm.

Oliver cheers embarrassingly loud, making you laugh and blush all at once though you already know he was being sweet and taking it easy on you for your benefit.

Once again a bludgers comes at you only this time it makes you lose your grip on the broom. You almost fall but Oliver is right nearby, quickly getting you back on.

“I told you it’d be dangerous. Are you alright?” He asks, his mouth set in another frown of worry.

“I’m fine. A little shaken but fine. Let’s continue shall we?” You say, taking the quaffle from him just as you lean in to give him a kiss, flying off to the hoops and throwing it into one of them.

“I’d say that’s a bit like cheating.” He teases with another smile.

“All’s fair in love and war.” You argue happily.

He chuckles, flying off to grab the ball before it’s too far to reach, it being a two person quidditch match.

Soon enough, the rest of the Gryffindor team finds the two of you playing around on your brooms, moreso chasing each other than actually playing and they very eagerly grab their own broomsticks, joining in the fun.

Though they weren’t exactly invited, you weren’t bothered at all, already loving everyone on the team as though you yourself were a part of it and not Oliver.

By the end of the game, you’ve not only been hit about three times by the bludgers, nearly screamed a few times when the chasers come by with the quaffle and watched in awe of Harry chasing the snitch around the pitch but the team is also practically begging you to join them.

“Honestly y/n, you’re the second best beater we’ve seen in years. After me of course.” Fred jokes as all of you dismount your brooms on the ground.

“We can arrange for someone to leave the team! I know! Fred’ll do it!” George exclaims.

Fred scoffs at this, looking at his brother as if he’s psychotic. “You mean you’ll do it George, good job taking one for the team!” He replies with a smug grin.

The two walk away bickering over which of their spots should go to you, ignoring the spew of your protests following them off the field.

“Blimey y/n, maybe you should be quidditch Captain for Gryffindor!” Oliver says in amazement as you walk over to him and the chest, the quaffle tucked under your arm.

“Nope, I do believe they have the best captain they could get right here.” You say with a grin.

He blushes a little but doesn’t try to hide it from you. “Not sure I’m the best exactly but thanks.” He smiles a little, pulling the ball out of your arms and wrapping his arms around you for a hug.

You hug back tightly, you head buried in his chest.

“Maybe we should think about getting you on the team?” He suggests hopefully but you shake your head.

“Oliver, I’m not gonna mess up your entire team by taking one of their spots, though I do appreciate the compliment. I’ll try out next year, alright?” You promise, looking up at his face.

“Alright. But you better believe I’ll be helping you train for that. I won’t be going easy on you because you’re my girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other you know.” He warns with a teasing grin.

You laugh a bit, grabbing the ball from him and putting it back in its place in the box.

“I think I can handle my own darling, thank you very much.” You challenge with a smirk.

“Oh believe me, I know you can.” He agrees, a loving smile on his face.

You smile proudly at his compliment.

“But if you already knew how to play, why’d I have to explain it all to you?” He asks curiously.

You breath a laugh. “Because it was the only way I could get you away from the team. There’s nothing you’re more passionate about than quidditch so I figured it was a safe bet.” You shrug.

“I have been leaving you for the team a lot lately haven’t I?” He asks, a guilt ridden frown taking over his face.

You take his face in your hands gently, making him look at you.

“In no way am I mad Oliver. I want you to know that. I just wanted to ensure some time with you.” You assure him.

“And was the time today what you wanted?” He asks, looking in your face for any sign of a lie.

“Today was everything I could’ve wanted. We should play together more often.” You promise with a soft smile.

He nods eagerly in agreement, one of his grins overtaking the frown.

The two of you walk hand in hand back off the quidditch pitch, one of the other members of the team having decided to take the balls back himself.

“You are wrong about one thing though.” He says as you reach the entrance back into the school.

“Oh? And what is that?” You question amusedly.

“I’m never going to be more passionate about anything, even quidditch, than I am about you and me.” He promises, leaning in and pressing a soft, sweet kiss onto your lips.

“You better not be.” You warn with a smile, telling him you’re only joking.

You walk back to the common room, snuggling up on one of the sofas together, both tired out from your amazing day.

[captainkurosolaire]

Overpowering Intelligence

Unable to even draw up to celebrate. Captain and Shiro struggled but collapsed. Judas finally canted his visage noticeably wheezing before rotating to his leader and giving a thumbs up. Mission successful. Then he suddenly convulsed and a puncturing gladius came burrowing through his sternum. Eyes gravely looked with a blurriness. Kuro’s sudden reaction unbelievably twisted in horror. Judas fell face first and planted into the pavement. Shiro followed suit with disbelief. Ebony encased in knightly armor was his mourned Ser.Arcticus now turned into a half-skull necromanctically summoned knight of beckoning. Glowing red-consumptive eyes were his only brim sockets. Both the Miqo'te erupted, each of their most cherished were desecrated at the same-time! Each of them weakly drained still in unity charged with sheer heed. Captain lobbing forth a punch as Shiro enchanted it with a wave of his tattered white-glove hand to a diamond ice. The Gladius defended against the onslaught as Captain engagingly blew up with staggeringly kick’s and combining fist. The unkindly rival’s emotion’s were in temporary alliance again. Shiro kept augmenting Captain’s change in formed attacks. But also educationally was scanning the room with his lingering eye drifting back and forth. Silv’a that monster had to be alive, somewhere, even if a piece. Even delivering hit’s Captain’s blows carried no meaning to this ebony armor only but absorbed dents. And that gladius kept increasing against the relenting speed in terrific amp. Parrying each other back and taking traces of chunks of flesh of the brutish Seeker. His ink of black was being recoated into sanguine. Each new slice makes his movement’s slower but his impact found increases from being berserk. Aether flashing between a marine blue into a haphazard tease of crimson. Captain was about to receive a fatal directive slash before Shiro reached in and grabbed his own comrade by the back of the collar and sent him hurling back. Then he took the frontal stage. The Seeker served as support kicking the Mol’usa rapier from earlier back into the rightful hands and the Noble began his fencing and duelist style. If any trained with the standing and fighting style of Arcticus it was him. The Seeker bent to a knee feeling the effects of him losing his stamina. Before exhaling his panting and screaming it out in detest. He used his long-leg heritage to animalistically leap against the wall and parkour off it to get behind the Necromantic Knight. Attacking from different directions and angles, making him struggle between the pair. Swishing rotating blade came hurling into the fan at the Seeker as the Keeper struck at the exploitative weak of the ankle. The Seeker dastardly dodged before awaiting it’s next spin and meeting it prematurely and buried his palm through the entire blade and punctured himself. His second hand overlapped and caught the point it’d meet resistance. Shiro punctured through the opportunity and unleashed a freezing bone cooling ice from the link of his tipped blade. Then they both felt a shooting heat pierce them each in their legs setting them off balance from finishing the job with a few more randomly at extremities. “Surprise boys, I’m back.” A baritone with newly appointed horn’s came frightening above. Each of them forced onto their backs they barred him transcendentally lifted above them high within the air. Demonically recuperative. “Aw you look so shook to see me again.” Crossing his arms with uncontrollable laughter with despair he was empowered. There was nothing as thrilling as seeing someone helpless and vulnerable. Their trifling resistance all went to vain. His puppeted Knight was decommissioned by the freeze but was thawing out by Silv’a’s palm providing a flash of warmth. “You’re unworthy for me now. I’ve ascended to the pinnacle.” His entire body was feeling nearly at the frontal of being demi-blessed. His diabolical and grimace look proved. It was preordained whether or not it was this band or any incoming herald’s of light. When he slaughtered the staff. He took one far into the upper-quarters into a private room and desecrated an Elezen identically to his characteristics and aspect. Then ritualistically called a contingency plan. If for whatever reason his body was obliterated. He’d have a fail-safe. A complete transference of mastered necromancy awaited. So when Judas destructively annihilated him at the last-ilm he foresaw one final foresight that he’d receive. Giving him enough breath to softly exhale his soul’s transfer over. The bomb’s cloud helped him conceal his aetherical drift weaving over like dust particles from creased window seals slowly traveling airborne before arriving at the conducted point. Simultaneously that plan also warranted him to always have a surprise ambush and attack of his own. He picked the most credible fighter among the lot to also receive it’s awakening at the same crucial point of his fall. It was all ingeniously splayed. The commotion allowed him to slip back and start leeching and eating like a gluttonous fiend on more tormented soul’s escaping the maw. Reaching even newer grandeur.

“You all have no fates.”

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