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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years ago

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Comet Donati [Chapter 1: History]

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+) and drugs, alcohol, smoking, astronomy, mental health struggles, Missouri.

Selected Chapter Quote: “You’re gonna love Aemond. He’s so fucked up. He’s like Disney World for therapists.”

Word count: 4.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

* * * I’m going to tag like a bazillion people since this is the first chapter of a new fic, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to. I hope you are all doing well, wherever you are in the world. 🥰😘 * * *

@borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @teenagecriminalmastermind @quartzs-posts @tclegane @poohxlove @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @chainsawsangel @itsabby15 @padfooteyes @arcielee @travelingmypassion @what-is-originality @burningcoffeetimetravel @randomdragonfires @aemcndtargaryen @jvpit3rs @sarcastic-halfling-princess @flowerpotmage @ladylannisterxo @thelittleswanao3 @libroparaiso @tinykryptonitewerewolf @girlwith-thepearlearring @minttea07 @trifoliumviridi @deltamoon666 @mariahossain @darkenchantress @doingfondue @atherverybest @namelesslosers @skythighs @moonlightfoxx @partypoison00 @bellameshipper @coffedraven @greenowlfactif @catalina-howard @babyblue711 @marvelescvpe @heimtathurs @ammo23

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! 💜

“You are a professional,” you tell your reflection threateningly, like it owes you money. Your hair is painstakingly tidy, your makeup neat, subdued, businesslike. You are wearing a black blazer, a white blouse, and Cookie Monster pajama pants. You are in your one-bedroom apartment in Kansas City, Missouri: grey, thunderous, humid as hell, June raindrops on the windows. “You have a master’s degree and hundreds of clinical hours and you are not afraid of clients. Not at all! Not even a little bit!”

You check your phone. 2:55 p.m.

“Oh God,” you whine to the checkered tiles of the bathroom floor, to the floral wallpaper. You clutch the cold porcelain of the sink: rose-pink, 1950s, diners and Thunderbirds, housewives and Valium. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I can’t do this. Oh my God.”

But there is no escape! You hurry, sweating profusely, to your laptop. You start the Zoom meeting and wait for your client to arrive, chewing your thumbnail until it bleeds, a scarlet semicircle of dull warm pain, a crescent moon like spilled merlot. You glance at your notepad again. David Mills, 25, married, anxiety upon relocating to a new city and beginning employment there.

Wait.

You confirm with a quick Google search in a new tab. David Mills was the protagonist in Se7en.

You sit back in your swivel chair, eyes narrowed with suspicion. The blue-white luminance of the screen glows on your face like moonlight. Your client is either a coincidence or a liar.

So what? People lie. People lie about therapy especially. So he wants some anonymity. Big deal.

“Strange,” you murmur to yourself.

You have no further opportunity to mull it over. A gratingly cheerful ding announces your client’s arrival in the Zoom meeting waiting room. No avatar, name still listed as David Mills.

“Okay. Okay. It’s fine. Here we go.”

You shake the tremors out of your hands and admit him. He pops onto the screen like a bloom of ironweed, like fireworks on the Fourth of July. It’s nighttime wherever he is. The background is dark and indistinct, shadowy; lamplight cascades across his face, topaz and fool’s gold. You are startled to realize that you already know him. And his name is definitely not David Mills.

“…Aegon?!”

He grins, sly and cocky but never cruel. “Hey.”

“Aegon Targaryen??!!”

“That’s me!” he concurs brightly. “What’s up, Stargirl?”

And instantly, you are transported back to almost exactly one year ago: a rooftop bar downtown, neon signs coiled in shades of violet and rhodonite and sapphire, night wind, constellations, ice clinking in misty glasses, locks of his hair skating between your fingers, the sting of his teeth on your throat, the Weeknd. “Hey,” you say softly. And then again, with more enthusiasm: “Hey! I saw you on Good Morning America last week!”

“Yeah? Was I good?”

“Jace was good. You were slightly offkey.”

“Aw shit. I usually am.”

“That’s okay. You’re the hot loser, right? That’s your character?”

“That’s me, baby. That’s why it works so well.”

It’s impossible: time has passed, thousands of miles have opened up between you, and yet it’s like he’s right here in the room, he never arrived, he never left, he’s always been here for life to grow up around like the framework of a house, a trellis, a skeleton. “How did you find me?”

“I couldn’t remember your name, but I figured you must have finished school by now. So I Googled therapists in Kansas City. Do you know how many there are?”

“500,” you guess.

“712,” Aegon says. “At least, that’s how many I scrolled through before I found your photo.”

“Wow.” You’re smiling; you can’t take your eyes off him. A lot of girls have that problem. That’s why he’s worth $100 million. “Couldn’t remember my name, huh? I guess I didn’t make much of an impression.”

He chuckles, a little bashfully, sweeping his blond hair off his face. “No. No, you definitely made an impression.”

So did he. In the downstairs bathroom of the bar, tucked beneath a staircase, stark white florescent lights and red walls, lip biting and ripped seams on your dress. He’d finished in approximately thirty seconds—which, oddly, felt more like a compliment than anything else—and then promptly snapped off the condom, dropped to his knees, and went down on you until you came not once but twice, a rarity for you. But that wasn’t the best part. Afterwards you’d gone back up to the roof together, sat in a quiet corner booth until the bar closed, talked about anything and everything with your bodies folded unconsciously into each other, origami, blended watercolors, whispers and murmurs, your palm on his thigh, his fingertips ghosting the underside of your wrist.

“So,” Aegon says through the laptop screen. “Are you, like, kind of unemployed currently?”

“No,” you reply, palpably defensive. Embarrassing! “I’m clearly working right now. You literally made a virtual appointment with me. I’m just…getting my practice off the ground.”

“Yeah but you seem lowkey unemployed.”

“You are so fucking rude.” But you’re laughing.

“I’m just saying, you had a lot of appointment times available. A lot.”

“I’m recruiting clients!” you exclaim. “I’m not like you. I can’t simulate sex with microphone stands to sell tickets.”

“That was one time!”

You smirk at him, eyebrows raised.

“That was…four times. That I recall.”

“I’m a professional. A serious, grown-up, certified professional.”

“You’re a glorified hobo, admit it.”

“You’re a dollar store Harry Styles.”

“Fuck,” he sighs, clutching his chest. “Okay you win.”

“Why did you do this? Why did you track me down in order to make some fraudulent therapy appointment?”

Now Aegon is something you’ve never seen from him before. He’s nervous. “I, uh…I need your help.”

“Really?”

“Well, not me specifically,” he amends. “We need your help. Comet does.”

Comet. What he means—what screaming fans all over the world mean when they drop this name in Reddit threads or Twitter hashtags or Tumblr gifsets—is the boy band Comet Donati. Three albums, five members: Aegon, Jace, Luke, Cregan, Daeron. The lineup has changed recently. Everyone knows why. “Help with what?”

“I mean…I’m sure you heard about what happened.”

“Yeah,” you say, somber now. Six months ago a piece of rigging collapsed during soundcheck at the Nippon Budokan in Tokyo. It hit Aemond, costing him six inches of flesh on the left side of his face, his sight in one eye, and his position as the undisputed, archetypal fearless leader of Comet. The celebrity gossip sites had reported that he was taking time off to recover, and then that his younger brother Daeron would be filling in for him at a few shows, and then suddenly Daeron was the fifth member of the band, and everyone was so charmed by his distinctly buoyant, sunshine-and-rainbows quality that Aemond faded from the discourse almost entirely, a ghost, a phantom, an antiquated word like telegraph or courtship or laudanum.

“So things are different now,” Aegon continues. “Things are…not always easy. And I think it might be a good idea to have you around.”

“Look, I’m not…like…” How can you put this? It’s something you have difficulty admitting out loud. “I’m not a real therapist, you know? You’re right, Aegon. I’m basically unemployed. I’m fresh out of my master’s program, I don’t have anywhere near the kind of experience that someone would need to adequately help Comet. So, maybe I could recommend some people to you, but other than that I don’t think I can—”

“It has to be you,” Aegon says.

You shake your head, gazing through the screen at him, through the space and the time. “Why?”

“When Comet performed in Kansas City…when we met at the bar that night…” He is hushed, meditative. “I don’t really remember what we talked about. But I remember exactly how you made me feel.” He smiles, the sort of smile you didn’t know he had in him: soft, pure, nostalgic, without edges. “I think Aemond could use some of that.”

The walls fall down around you, this apartment, this city, this life. “Where are you right now?”

“Capri.”

“Where?”

“Capri,” he says again, amused. “But we’ll be in Rome tomorrow. You can meet us there.”

“In Rome,” you repeat, like it’s Mars or one of Jupiter’s moons.

“Catch the next flight out. The band can reimburse you. We’ll get you a contract of some sort. Nothing too long-term, so you won’t be locked in or anything. A few months. Then we can reassess.”

“Okay, but…I don’t feel comfortable serving as an official therapist to you or anyone else in Comet, Aegon. The circumstances are less than orthodox. And not just because of the…um…bar bathroom situation.”

“Fine, whatever.” He’s high on the victory; the details don’t matter so much.

“Okay,” you say. And then again, giggling wildly at the ludicrousness of it all: “Okay! I guess I’ll see you in Rome tomorrow!”

“Cool. Let me give you my WhatsApp.” You exchange information, and then he grins at you, crafty and radiant through the screen. “You’re gonna love Aemond. He’s so fucked up. He’s like Disney World for therapists.”

“We’ll see,” you reply distractedly, already opening Expedia in a new tab.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Midwest, the East Coast, the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, Southern Europe, green to blue and then green again as the plane descends into the Leonardo da Vinci Airport of Rome. You roll your single carry-on bag through the corridors, peering out the windows at cloudless cerulean skies and towering stone pines. Aegon meets you at the bottom of an escalator. He’s wearing cargo shorts, a neon green tank top, and matching Crocs. He’s slightly chubbier than you remember, just as beautiful, just as chaotically charismatic, the sun made flesh. He’s standing with a man you don’t recognize.

“Benvenuta, bella!” Aegon proclaims, nearly tackling you with a hug before taking your bag. He smells like beer, sunscreen, Axe body spray, summer air that unfurls warm and golden in the lungs.

“Oh, thank God,” the other man—possibly Italian, definitely gorgeous—exhales with great relief. “Aegon said he needed to meet someone at the airport and I was 90% sure that you would be a drug dealer. But you do not look like a drug dealer. You’re not a…are you a…?”

“No, I’m definitely not a drug dealer.”

“Okay. Great. Hello.” He extends a hand, tan and muscley. “I’m Criston, I’m the tour manager. It is my job to keep everyone alive and uninjured.”

“Four out of five isn’t bad,” Aegon says. And then, when Criston is clearly distressed by it: “Uh, anyway, there’s an Escalade waiting outside.”

The SUV is massive and black with tinted windows. As you follow Aegon into the backseat, several paparazzi appear on the sidewalk and begin snapping photos, calling out to you and expelling rapid-fire white flashes like lightning. Aegon ignores them. You’ve been travelling all day, and the sun is setting now in Rome. The sky is the color of embers, autumn leaves, Saturn. Criston climbs into the passenger seat and gives instructions to the driver. The Escalade wheels out of Arrivals, paparazzi sprinting down the sidewalk after it to take a few final pictures.

“So,” Aegon says, smiling. He pops open the mini fridge and hands you an ice-cold can of San Pellegrino. “Do you have a boyfriend back in Kansas? Or, maybe, boyfriends?”

“Missouri,” you correct him automatically. “And no. None worth mentioning.” A guy you’ve had lunch with twice, a guy you made out with at an Olive Garden, a guy you hooked up with back at UChicago who you’re still texting, guys who flit in and out of your mind like birds through the sky, impermanent, inconsequential.

“You still on the pill?”

“Yes.” You’re not offended. Aegon is teasing, and so are you. It occurs to you that talking to Aegon is a bit like talking to yourself; there are no awkward lulls, and he rarely says anything that shocks you. “But that’s not why I came to Rome.”

“That’s fine. That’s not why I invited you.”

As the Escalade zooms by iconic landmarks—the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, the Piazza del Popolo—you ask Aegon about them. He has no idea; he makes things up instead.

“That’s the duck waterpark,” he says as you pass a fountain that’s over 1,000 years old. Then he points to a naked statue of an extremely buff Mercury. “That’s me before I started eating carbs again.” His only snippet of accurate trivia comes as you drive by the twilight-lit Colosseum. “Holy shit, that’s where Taylor Swift made out with Tom Hiddleston!”

“Surely more important things have happened there at some point in the past two millennia.”

“I doubt it,” Aegon replies, frowning out the Escalade window, taciturn. “I wish I got to make out with Taylor Swift in the Colosseum.”

Comet Donati is staying at the Anantara Palazzo Naiadi Rome Hotel, which closely resembles a palace. When the Escalade stops at the front doors, you drag your luggage out onto the cobblestones.

“No no no,” Criston says, grabbing the rolling suitcase from you. He gives it to a white-gloved butler along with a room number and then escorts you and Aegon to the top floor. It’s not until the three of you are in the elevator that you realize you are still wearing your highly unsophisticated travel-day attire: yoga pants, flip flops, a tie-dye hoodie with Louis Tomlinson’s face on it that you purchased from Etsy last winter. Aegon catches you scrutinizing your reflection in the mirrors that line the inside of the elevator.

“Traitor,” he says with a grin, massaging your shoulders. His eyes lock with yours in the mirror. His touch is—just as it was a year ago at that bar in Kansas City when you were home from school on break and he was a transient visitor, fleeting like a rainstorm—familiar somehow, pleasant and comforting but not profound, welcome without being necessary.

“Don’t hate him ‘cause you ain’t him. When was the last time you wrote a #1 hit single?”

“Never,” Aegon readily admits. “Although I got into the Top 5 in Norway once.” No, everyone knows that Aemond was Comet’s Louis Tomlinson: their best songwriter, their relatively unproblematic and grounded team captain, their protector, their compass. And now he has no official place in the band at all.

When the elevator doors open, Criston leads you and Aegon down the hallway to a bustling suite. Inside there are white leather couches and gold-colored lounge chairs, a bar, a staircase that leads up to the loft bedroom, people wandering in and out of air that is hazy with whispers and cigarette smoke. There are men in suits, women in short tight dresses, leather and velvet and sequins. You are woefully underdressed. Fortunately, so is Aegon. He is greeted with a dizzying array of cheers, waves, and toasts. Someone shoves an emerald green bottle of Peroni into his grasp. Kesha’s Your Love Is My Drug is vibrating through the speakers mounted on the wall: “What you’ve got, boy, is hard to find, I think about it all the time…”

“Hey, hey, listen up!” Aegon shouts, stepping on top of an ottoman, and the chatter lowers in volume like a radio being turned down.

You scan the smokey room until you’ve located all five current Comet Donati members: Aegon the disaster playboy, Luke the sensitive and kindhearted one, Daeron the energetic ray of sunshine, Jace the heir apparent in the power vacuum created by Aemond’s departure, Cregan the brooding, mysterious, sexy Northern Englishman. You know them, and yet you don’t. You know the characters they play, their reputations, their public personas…but that doesn’t mean you know them. Aegon is the only man you spoke to at the rooftop bar that night in Kansas City a year ago. So far, the mythical version of him seems quite consistent with reality.

Cregan is slumped at one end of the couch by the window and knocking back shots of what appears to be straight vodka. In the night sky beyond the glass, you can see stars and the illuminated Rome skyline: modern skyscrapers, ancient rubble. At the other end of the couch is Aemond. He’s smoking, drinking something iced and bloody pink, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, all in black like he’s trying to disappear. His left eye, the blind one, is an ethereal cloudy blue that reminds you of renderings you’ve seen of Neptune, Uranus, exoplanets, the Earth from space. He glances up at you and holds your gaze for just a few seconds too long. Then he looks away, bewildered, taking a drag off his cigarette.

Aegon introduces you to the room as you stand beside the ottoman, awkward and ashamed in your Louis Tomlinson hoodie. “She’s a friend,” Aegon says. “And she’s also a therapist.”

“Good, you need one!” Jace shouts through cupped hands, and there are tipsy titters and guffaws.

“Not for me,” Aegon snaps. “For you deranged bitches.”

As Aegon descends from the ottoman—klutzily, stumbling, clutching onto Criston like a baby lemur to its mother—Luke approaches to present himself. He has a mess of dark curly hair that falls over his face and large, honest eyes. There’s a black spiral notebook and a white gel pen in his left hand. He offers you his right. “Hi! I’m Luke Velaryon.”

“Yeah, I know. I spend a lot of time on Comet’s Spotify page.”

He groans. “I look so bad in that header photo.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s the nose. I have a pug nose. The label has been trying to convince me to get it fixed for years.” He turns to a girl who is practically hiding behind him: arrestingly beautiful in a fragile sort of way, gentle like a doe. “Maybe you can help Rhaena talk to people.”

“I have social anxiety,” she explains apologetically. Her voice is very quiet yet lyrical. There are weights tied to her confession, years of shame and despair. Luke throws an arm across her shoulders and hugs her to him, touching his forehead briefly to hers.

“That’s okay.” You give Rhaena a reassuring smile. “It’s super common, and there are a lot of strategies you can try that might make it more manageable.”

“It wasn’t a big deal at first, you know?” Rhaena says. It comes out in a rush like water through a cracked dam. Luke looks astonished but pleased. You have been known to have this effect upon people, a compulsive sort of disclosure that drains, empties, unburdens. Aegon is watching from several feet away, beaming between swigs of Peroni. “Luke and I met before he got famous and we could just hang out around the neighborhood. Ice cream, public parks, Pret a Manger, riding the Tube together. But now…now he’s always meeting new people and there are all these events I’m supposed to go to with him, and I can’t sleep properly for days leading up to each one, and half the time I end up hiding in the bathroom or being too nauseous to eat anything, and…”

Jace is at the bar and slurping a vesper: shoulder-length curls, flashy blazer with nothing underneath it, a contemplative appraisal of you. There’s a stunning girl sitting beside him that he’s not listening to.

As you are explaining the potential benefits of exposure therapy to Rhaena and Luke, Daeron bursts through the crowd to greet you. He’s their Niall Horan: warm, uncomplicated, disarmingly friendly, beachy blond hair, a golden retriever on two legs. He hugs you—spiritedly, like Aegon did—and then compliments your flip flops.

“So you’re our new therapist?” Daeron says eagerly, like this is something he knows they’ve needed.

“Well, I’m a therapist, but I’m not really your therapist. Because I can’t hang out with you guys all the time and also be your therapist. It’s unethical. But Aegon thought I might have some good ideas, I guess. In a strictly unofficial capacity.”

“Okay! Cool! And you and Aegon are…friends?”

“Um…yeah. Sort of.”

“Remember that show in Kansas City last summer?” Aegon tells Daeron. He’s supernaturally gifted at making everything sound blissfully casual, like there couldn’t possibly be more to the story. “I met her at the bar we went to afterwards.”

“Totally,” Daeron says. “Great city. Awesome barbeque.”

Criston asks him: “So, uh, how’s your mom doing?”

Daeron is puzzled. “Fine…?”

“Criston, please stop asking about my mom,” Aegon says. “It’s getting weird. It’s been weird. It was weird four years ago and it’s weird now. She has a husband.”

“Yeah, but is that…you know…is that still going well?”

“Yes, Criston.”

“Fantastic,” Criston mutters, pouring himself a Scotch. He uses the glass to gesture to you. “So what the hell am I supposed to bill her as? Aegon’s friend?”

“She’s a…” Aegon considers this, waving his Peroni around in the air. “Human resources mental health consultant.”

“She’s a what?”

“She helps resolve both intra and interpersonal conflict.”

“That sounds imaginary.”

“Well then you figure something out!” Aegon says, exasperated. “Isn’t this what you get paid for? To make problems go away? To keep us happy? To stop us from killing each other? You figure it out.” He saunters off to grace the drunken masses with his presence. Criston sighs and goes to stand by the wall with a herd of stone-faced businessmen in suits, record label guys, guys who only know how to see the world in terms of contract clauses and account balances.

Rhaena goes to stand by Jace’s companion, who—as you conjure up vague recollections of celebrity gossip sites—is named something like Bella or Bailey. Daeron is commandeered by a gaggle of adoring Italian women. Luke is showing Aemond something in his notebook: black pages, sparkly white ink. Aemond is nodding and giving critique, not that saccharine, generic, brainless kind of praise but authentic encouragement: try to think of a more specific word here, move that line up to the first verse, I love the use of this metaphor. Aemond’s voice dredges up memories you didn’t know you had of him on talk shows, in YouTube compilations, in songs you’ve been streaming on Spotify for years. Smoke drifts from his lips. Ice jangles in his organ-pink cocktail. And again, he looks up at you, inhaling poison as Luke makes his opal-ink edits.

“What’s that drink called?” you ask the bartender, and he squints across the room to where Aemond is seated on the snow-colored leather couch to discern it.

“A Bramble,” he says. “It’s named after blackberry bushes.”

“Can I get one?”

“Sure.”

You procure your drink and when Luke leaves the couch, you whizz past him like a meteor as you walk towards it.

“Hey,” Cregan flings impassively, not knowing why you’re here, not caring either.

“Hey,” you return.

And then you sit down next to Aemond, deliberately on his blind side. He glances over at you, his brow crinkling with confusion. Because—surely, undoubtedly—no one ever speaks about his injury, but it’s veined through everything they do, it’s a perpetual undercurrent that steers his life and yet cannot be voiced without breaching those vigilantly constructed levees of propriety. It’s the elephant in every room. It’s a ghost rattling doorknobs and tapping on windows. And sometimes the only way to free yourself of something is to throw the cage door wide open and set it loose.

“I accidentally wore your competitor’s merch,” you say. “I didn’t want you to have a good view.”

Aemond laughs, and the strangest thing happens: everyone in the room turns to look. On their faces are expressions of shock, bafflement, relief, wonder. Aemond shifts so he’s facing you, one elbow propped on the back of the couch. He sips the Bramble in his right hand, puffs on the cigarette in his left. And there it is, what people like to call a spark, but it’s something deeper than that: organic chemistry, neurotransmitter plumes, wells of marrow that sing to each other from beneath the darkness.

You nod to his cigarette, Benson & Hedges according to the shimmery gold pack that lays open on the glass coffee table. “You think that makes you cool?”

“I know it does,” he says. His gaze flicks down to your Louis Tomlinson hoodie…or what’s under it, perhaps. “Wouldn’t work on you though. Too far gone.”

You hold out your hand. After a few seconds, Aemond passes you his cigarette. You—very stoically, very nonchalantly—take a single drag and then erupt into a coughing fit, eyes watering, lungs gasping, surrendering the cigarette emphatically. Humiliating! Irredeemable!

“Told you,” Aemond notes. But he’s rubbing your back with a hand that is large and strong and yet careful. You smile at him. Aemond smiles too.

Criston pulls one of the suit guys aside and says: “Get her on the payroll.”

#aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #hotd fanfic #hotd

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tul1p3 · 6 months ago

Text

I'm not her

Summary: Your sister went missing about a year ago but it seems anywhere you go, her name follows.

Theo Nott x Reader

warning: fluff, ooc people, implications of sex, mentions of loss of a parent/sibling, google translate, very fast burn/ lack of real plotline, very rushed ending

Wc 6.8k

a/n: My first piece of work, hope you like it ;)

Prologue (3 years ago)

Aaliya was late - really late.

“She was meant to be here about-” Theodore began, however Tom Riddle cut him off abruptly.

“An hour ago,” Tom quickly cut in, his eyes burning a hole in the wall. The seven of them sat there wondering about Aaliya’s whereabouts. She wasn’t ever late and if she was she’d let them know.

Another hour went by before the boys finally left Matteo’s dorm room to search for her, with the conclusion that something terrible had happened to her . What if we don’t find her? The thought ran through every single one of their minds; although none of them dared express it.

The boys had been searching for an hour; they thought of all the places she could be but to their frustration she hadn’t been found - yet.

Dumbledore’s office was composed mainly of hardwoods: oak, mahogany, balsa, the list went on. Theodore leaned against one of the many shelves in the office, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes etched with fear. The boys all stared at Dumbledore hoping he had a solution as to what to do.

“So -” Dumbledore tactfully began.

“Yes, we believe she’s missing,” Regulus impatiently muttered as if saying it louder would make it any more real. Dumbledore looked worriedly between the seven boys. In all of his years teaching, a student had never gone missing with no traces.

“I’ll send out a search party to look for her.” Dumbledore spoke in a composed manner despite the angst he felt within him.

“A search party?” Anger was beginning to overcome Tom at Dumbledore’s pathetic attempt to search for Aliyah. “We’ve already searched everywhere that's going to be of -”

“Thank you, Dumbledore,” Enzo looked threateningly at Tom. They couldn’t afford to get angry at Dumbledore when he was really their only chance of hope. Enzo guided Tom out the door as Theo, Reggie, Matteo, Blaise and Draco followed swiftly behind. Once successfully out the door, Tom broke from Enzo’s grasp. Looking betrayed, he began to speak:

“Why wouldn’t you let me finish? Don’t you understand? We are not gonna find her like this,” he spoke irritatedly.

“Because getting angry at Dumbledore is totally going to bring her back,” Enzo replied sarcastically, accompanied by an eye roll.

She was never found. Never confirmed dead. Never confirmed alive. Just missing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zara

After a long day at Hogwarts, I placed my books in my locker. Charms had gone well, and astronomy and herbology helped gain me a few new friends. Just as I was about to close my locker, in my peripheral vision I noticed a group of boys eyeing me warily - one of whom I recognised as Draco Malfoy. Fear began to consume me as all their eyes remained fixed on me for what felt like an eternity. As the group got closer, I froze in my spot waiting for the worst to happen.

“You look oddly familiar,” one of them stated cautiously as he examined me.

I laughed nervously, unsure of what he wanted me to say.

“You remind us of a student who used to attend here.” Another one chimed in, he was tall and lanky, his brown hair falling perfectly on his face. Thankful that they weren’t attempting to bully me or something, I engaged in the conversation.

“What was her name?” I asked curiously not expecting to know who they were talking about. I mean there could be thousands of people that share a resemblance to me.

“Aaliya Bellrow,” Draco answered immediately. Colour drained from my face, as recognition washed over me. For a brief moment, I shut my eyes. I prayed it wasn’t obvious that I’d been affected by the name. Abruptly, I turned on my heels before walking away ignoring the confused looks I was leaving behind. When I rounded the corner - out of anyone’s sight - I broke into a quick run, desperate to get away.

My sister. My sister. My sister. Ever since that unfortunate night, it’s like she followed me everywhere. At home, it was painfully explicit the gap she’d left. My parents were silent, hardly ever asked about me - and if they did it was often something to do with her. Aaliya took that class as well, right? I was constantly reminded of my uncanny resemblance to her and annoyance flared inside me every single time; however, this time it just hurt. The boys had meant no harm - just like everyone else. But just because they hadn’t meant to cause upset doesn’t mean they didn’t.

The door of the stall was cool against my bare back. Chatter sounded lowly on the other side of the small cubicle I had locked myself in. Gradually, my breathing returned back to normal and my chest heaved at a calmer rate. Inevitably, I stood up on my two feet, straightening out my blouse and skirt. I opened up the stall, the door swinging back as it revealed two girls whom I recognised. Pansy and Astoria.

“Are you okay?” Pansy questioned quietly, eyeing me dubiously.

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine,” using all my effort to do so, I attempted to give a reassuring smile but it seemed my response had fallen on deaf ears as well as my smile on blind eyes. Astoria reached aggressively for my hand before pulling me away, and out the bathroom. Determinedly, she dragged me across a series of hallways before we finally arrived at a stop. The sign above read:

SLYTHERIN’S COMMON ROOM

As we entered, people turned to look at us before returning to whatever it is they were doing before. Although, one group in particular did not. Once again, their eyes fixated me; they were probably wondering why I’d fled so suddenly. Astoria and Pansy walked ahead towards them with me trailing a small distance behind the two. Smiles adorned their faces as we approached. Astoria subsequently introduced me to them like I hadn’t seen them just under half an hour ago - but obviously she hadn’t known that and I still didn’t know their names to be honest. Interrupting Astoria’s quick debrief before she’d been able to say my name, Tom sharply turned to me and asked:

“Why’d you flee so quickly?”

I eyed him, contemplating whether I should reveal the reason I’d had to leave. Upon quick thinking, I replied:

“I had a panic attack and needed air.” They all seemed sympathetic and ready to let it go, however Tom seemed adamant on getting the full truth out of me.

“What was it that triggered it?”

My jaw slacked slightly, astounded at his direct and blunt tone.

“I’m not obligated to tell you,” I gave back, equally as harsh.

The others smirked as if it wasn’t a regular occurrence that someone would answer back to him.

“But…since you’re so desperate to know,” their ears perked up in anticipation, “Aaliya is - was - my sister, hence the uncanny resemblance.”

Immediately, their smirks dropped and their eyes filled with confusion. Astoria and Pansy who had previously seemed engaged in their own conservation also turned to look at me. Everyone looked at me in a way that willed me to elaborate:

“Umm Aaliya was my older sister; she was amazing. She was kind. She was everything I hope to be one day. Presumably you already know what happened. But yeah I miss her and I wish everyday she were still here,” I ended with a nervous chuckle, the change in atmosphere made me uncomfortable.

“You speak like she’s dead,” Tom eyed me irately, as if I didn’t have the right to do so. This evidently affected the rest of the group too as their eyes seemed to agree with him.

“Because she is.” I replied confoundedly. Collectively, they all began to shake their heads and Enzo said something that had me thinking maybe they didn’t know the whole truth.

“You don’t know that, Aurors never confirmed her dead so until they do so- she’s just missing,” he released a sigh at the end like he’d been holding his breath while he’d spoken. Now it was my turn to sigh and as I did a small tear slid down my cheeks as I was forced to tell the group what they clearly didn’t know.

“The Aurors did confirm her death though that’s the thing; she was found three months later, we had the funeral a month after and well… yeah,” I trailed off not knowing what to say to them.

“I don’t know who didn’t tell you but I’m sorry because she is most definitely…dead, I saw her with my own eyes.”

“You’re lying.” Tom stood up abruptly before leaving the room. I looked around at the others who seemed to be in a state of shock; sadness filled me as I realised while their friend had been taken literally a year ago, I’d just taken her from them the second time - and for good. Unexpectedly, everyone stood up, leaving the common room - everyone except Theodore Nott.

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The section of the common room I was in fell silent. I looked solemnly at Theodore, the look on his face was unreadable. Feeling bad, I went to sit beside him leaving a little gap between us. Gradually, I turned to look at him, his eyes pinched shut and I almost regret saying anything about Aaliya. Eventually, he opened his eyes and turned to look at me. He was silent for a while before lowly saying,

“What’s your name?” A hint of an accent came through as he spoke.

“Zara,” I mumbled, the name almost foreign on my lips considering I didn’t get time to say it during the earlier introductions. Silence fell once again as I waited for him to say something - anything. But he didn’t.

“I’m guessing you guys were all very close to her?” I continued to stare at him, noticing his sharp jawline and greenish eyes. He chuckled faintly beside me - so weak I almost didn’t hear it. Slowly, he began to nod his head.

“Yeah,” he trailed off before starting up again, “she is - was - an amazing person, always put everyone before herself and never failed to make any of us laugh.” Though he looked as if he wanted to continue, he trailed off again. For the first time, he turned to look at me. His eyes burned daggers into the side of my face.

“Tell me about you,” he said nonchalantly. Confused, I turned to look at him - since Aaliya had died no one had taken much interest in me; how I was coping, if I missed her, even a mere are you okay proved to be difficult. Presumably my shock was visible because subsequently Theodore nudged me with his knee, reminding me I needed to answer.

“Um, I don’t really know what you want me to say,” I chuckled nervously under his unwavering gaze. He didn’t push after that so we fell into a comfortable silence.

Unanticipatedly, he stood and began walking away; he reached into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes before turning to me to ask:

“You coming or what?”

The autumn breeze of the early evening was refreshing against my cheek. With Theodore beside me on the astronomy tower, the air smelled like a mixture of nicotine and peppermint. None of us were talking, so silence penetrated the evening sky. I liked the calm, the serene view, and the chill atmosphere. It’d been ages since I’d felt like this: free, without the weight of expectations to carry. After a few prolonged moments of silence, I finally caved and broke it,

“Can I call you Theo, or better yet Teddy?” I raised an eyebrow as I finished my question knowing that I was damn well pushing my luck with the last part - considering I’d only met the guy about an hour ago. Briefly, he paused what he was doing and turned to look at me oddly. I tilted my head to the side slightly in an attempt to subtly encourage him to answer my question and explain the look on his face.

“My mother used to call me Teddy; no one knows that so I don’t know...hearing someone even ask is just strange.” Hesitantly, he resumed his smoking, not taking his eyes off of me. I nodded, debating silently in my head whether to ask my next question.

“You say ‘used to’, does she not anymore?” Finally, he removed his eyes from my face and pinched them shut tightly like he did earlier.

“She’s dead.” After the direct response, he let out a puff of smoke before he dropped the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it to force the flame to die. Following this, I looked forward; I remained mute as I knew all too well that sometimes words needn’t be exchanged after such admissions. As the minutes went by the quietness seemed to stick even more, we stood there occasionally glancing at one another but mostly just deep in thought.

After approximately an hour, Theo backed away from the edge of the tower and began walking away. Consequently, my eyes followed as he walked away and out of the blue I heard,

“The answer’s yes.”

Clearly, he must have sensed my confusion as he turned back around, smirked and reminded me of the question I asked earlier.

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I found myself back in the common room again. Everyone had dispersed and it remained just me. At the front, the fire crackled unstably; it radiated a nice warmth towards me. From the slightly ajar door, I could hear the sound of footsteps and hushed voices fast approaching. As expected, Astoria and Pansy walked in with the boys who followed close behind. They gathered around the sofa I was sitting on and all got comfy. Teddy came to sit beside me, his arm slung lazily behind me to rest on the sofa edge. Glancing carefully around, it seemed as though nobody was still affected by the shocking news from earlier however I knew better - it was just a facade.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Astoria suggested thoughtfully. Nods came from around the room and I too found myself agreeing. Astoria turned around in her seat to look directly at me.

“Truth or Dare?” She questioned. I contemplated my options carefully before settling on Truth.

“Who are you the most attracted to in this circle?” My heart rate picked up a little bit at the question, knowing immediately who I was going to choose. Sharply, his green eyes cut to me - watching me intently. His mouth turned up in a smirk like he knew it was going to be him. Inwardly, my eyes rolled at his cockiness but nonetheless I said his name,

“Teddy.” At that, I got a few perplexed looks before everyone figured out I meant Theo. Astoria and Pansy gushed over the fact I had given him such a cute nickname while Teddy himself continued to stare at me but his smirk had dropped completely. Worried, I gave him a brief smile to which he unexpectedly returned with his own smile - lasting only mere seconds though. It was now my turn to pick on someone ; I turned sharply towards Tom.

“Truth or Dare?” I asked smugly hoping he would pick dare so I could suggest something embarrassing. Unfortunately for me, he didn’t.

“Truth,” Tom raised his eyebrows as he looked at me, clearly knowing I’d wanted him to say dare.

“You still think I’m lying?” I hadn’t hoped to bring up Aaliya again but I couldn’t help but fixate on Tom’s words from earlier. You’re lying.

Warily, I eyed Tom and to my surprise he uttered the words that sent a wave of relief through my body.

“No.” Tom didn’t waste a second before he swivelled round to face Mattheo. As anticipated, as the game went on arguments were caused and in some cases previous disagreements solved. Within the hour, I had been dared to leave an anonymous love note for some random Hufflepuff, dared to steal Enzo’s file from Dumbledore's office, and asked what the biggest lie I had told had been. Much to my dismay, it was now Tom’s turn to ask truth or dare and something in my gut told me he was going to choose me. As expected, Tom turns to face me and asks:

“Truth or dare?”

Neither option appealed to me however I didn’t feel like putting my life in the hands of Tom so I concluded Truth was the safer option.

“Truth,” I stated, hoping that Tom was merciful with his question.

“Did Aaliya talk about us a lot?” Although his eyes were almost impossible to read, I knew he was holding back and I needed him to ask what he truly wanted to know.

“Ask your real question.” For a brief second he seemed astounded that I’d said that, but he quickly recovered and rephrased his question.

“Did Aaliya talk about me?” There it was. At this, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as memories of our numerous late night talks where we’d laugh and it’d be us against the world forced their way into my head.

“Um…I don’t know honestly,” He appeared skeptical so I elaborated, “I vaguely recall her talking about some “guy” she had liked, but she never mentioned him again - said he was cold and would give her mixed signals so that was that. She never gave a name so I don’t know if it was about you but if the shoe fits.” I shrugged my shoulders and gave an accusatory look to him.

Something dark seemed to take over Tom’s expression and like he did earlier he stood up promptly and left the room.

“Does he make a habit of that, or is it just me?” I asked the question to no one in particular, and based on everyone’s silence something told me it was the latter.

Our game ended with his sudden departure and everyone said their goodnights and left for their rooms - me included. However, Teddy lingered with me and made no move to go to his own room. Undeterred, I carried on walking to my dorm room with Teddy trailing closely behind. After a few minutes, I stopped outside a large rustic wooden door; Teddy too halted. Confused, I glanced up at him wondering if he was going to explain what he was doing. Despite his indifferent and unemotional face, the words he uttered next didn’t mirror his expression.

“I liked the nickname,” he admitted nonchalantly, “reminded me of my mum…it was comforting.” Touched by what he’d said, I nodded and smiled at him.

“Goodnight.” I whispered before slipping silently into my dorm room and shutting the door gently.

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Light shone through my blinds as the sun rose and the unbearable brightness seemed to effectively wake me up. I lay on my bed doing nothing as I prepared myself for my second day here. Shortly after, I headed to the shared girls’ bathroom and got ready for breakfast. On my way to the canteen, I sighted Astoria and Pansy who were giggling excitedly amongst themselves; feeling lonely, I decided to approach them. Astoria noticed me first, pulling me into a hug and asking how I slept. Pansy followed suit - except she left out the question part. Assuming she was doing so before, Pansy carried on making jokes about the teachers in our school while Astoria and I laughed uncontrollably. Finally, we reached the canteen where we could see the boys were already sitting down at a table in the far corner. When we reached the table, Teddy subtly moved over an inch allowing me a place to sit down. Softened by the gesture, I took his invite and sat beside him. A few at a time, we got up to collect our breakfasts before returning back to the table to eat. The time was 8:00 and the bell didn't ring until 8:30 so that gave us 30 minutes to eat and discuss whatever amongst ourselves.

My first lesson was potions which I’d managed to get lost to on the way there twice. However, thankfully a prefect had guided me to the classroom, preventing a third time.

After potions, I had a double period of herbology, which I learnt I shared with Enzo Berkshire when I walked into the classroom and found him sitting in the back. He waved me over to sit on the empty seat beside him. A loud blaring bell rang soon after I took my seat signaling the beginning of class. Professor Pomona waltzed in and began assigning everyone partners for a project; since I was sitting beside Enzo he was assigned as my partner. The project was to fuse two existing plants and do a 5000 word write up about it. While the task may have seemed simple - I mean how difficult could it be to fuse two plants - writing 5000 words would be long and tiring.

Professor Pomona Sprout gave us the whole time of both periods to work on our projects; occasionally she’d give us breaks. By the end of the two hours, Enzo and I had successfully managed to fuse the Moonwart and Rue plant.

“We should work on the second part soon,” Enzo suggested as we exited the classroom; I nodded in agreement. Enzo sharply turned to me, and gave me a huge grin before offering a high five.

“We make a pretty good team.” He announces as I returned the high five giving him my own smile as well. When I turned back around I saw Teddy leaning against a pillar eyeing us coldly. Enzo and I approached where he was standing,

“Hi Teddy,” I said gently, aware from his facial expression that he was mad and not wanting to do anything to worsen it. Seemingly, the nickname had an effect on him as his jaw seemed to relax and his eyes evidently softened. Enzo said something as well but I was too occupied with reading Teddy to notice. A moment later he returned mine and Enzo’s greetings before he finally straightened. Collectively, we all headed to the canteen to meet up with the rest of the group for lunch.

Enthusiastically, Astoria dragged me down to sit beside her as I joined the lunch table. She began to rant about a girl in her class that had annoyed her endlessly last period. Periodically, she’d quiet down but then she would start up again as she remembered something else. Across the table, I made eye contact with Mattheo and Enzo who seemed to notice my disinterest in Astoria’s words. They both laughed amongst themselves when I yawned; this thankfully went unnoticed by Astoria. However at the sound of their prolonged/ laughter, I smiled attempting to resist laughing too however that didn’t work. Even Tom who sat at the head of the table had the faintest smile on his face. Confusedly, Astoria looked around, likely wondering why we'd broken into fits of laughter. I just slightly shook my head as if to say ‘don’t worry’ and surprisingly Astoria just resumed what she was doing.

It was the last period of the school day and today everyone had a revision session - I’d decided to go to the library to get some peace, even if it had only been for a few minutes. Enzo had spotted me, joined me and now we were working on the second part of our herbology assignment. Profesor Pomona had given us a list of questions we had to answer in our write up so Enzo and I equally divided up the questions. I was nearly done with my questions when I saw Teddy and Mattheo making their way over to us. Mattheo had a dubious smirk on his face as they reached where we were. Accordingly, I scooched over, allowing room for either Mattheo or Teddy to sit down - Mattheo got their first. Teddy’s jaw tightened at his friend’s move but he went to sit beside Enzo anyway. Theo was the first to break the silence.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked - almost uninterestedly.

“We were working on our herbology project before you guys came,” Enzo replied accusingly. Mattheo at least had the decency to look apologetic, however Teddy clearly did not.

“It’s fine, you came at the right time. I was almost done anyway.” I directed my words mainly at Mattheo. With that, I slammed my laptop shut before packing up my bag and standing up.

“Umm…I’ll leave you guys to it, I think I’m gonna go find Astoria and Pansy.”

As I left the table, my eyes lingered on Teddy before I finally exited the library.

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It was silent at the astronomy tower with just me there, the sky was getting darker and I could see various students down below heading to their dorm rooms as school ended.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice said from behind me.

Terrified by the sudden words, I jumped back clutching my chest. Hesitantly, I turned around to see who the mysterious person was. Theodore Nott. At the realization that he was avidly staring me down, I became self conscious.

“Why not?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t know, Aaliya hated this place so I guess–” Teddy abruptly cut himself off realising how it sounded. “And It’s just that you said you were going to find Astoria and Pansy so I thought I’d be the only one here.”

I don’t know if the last part was genuine or if it was to save face.

“Oh - I’ll go if you want to be alone.” The Aaliya part hurt a bit - the assumption that we’d liked or disliked the same things as if we were the same person. I started retreating back to the staircase, however Theo’s hand grabbed my wrist instantly pulling me towards him.

“Stay.”

With that single word his hand released my wrist although he remained where he was standing. My breathing became heavy as I was hyperaware to our close proximity. Teddy studied me, lips tipped up in a smirk. Ensuingly, I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, nervous due to his unwavering gaze. His head tipped up slightly, eyes shutting as if he were in hurt. “Are you okay?” I asked, genuine concern etched into my voice.

“I can’t…I can’t think straight when you bite your lip like that.” Teddy spoke, pain evidently laced into his voice.

“Oh.” My voice came out light and airy. Gaining back some confidence, I gently lifted my hand up to bring Teddy to look back at me. He finally looked down again to me while I subconsciously stroked his cheek. Then in the space of a few seconds, Teddy’s lips were on mine.

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Teddy traced delicate circles across my stomach as he spooned me from behind. After our kiss on the Astronomy Tower we’d talked for a while before coming back to my dorm to cuddle. It was peaceful considering we were laying in complete silence. Then a few seconds later, Teddy broke it.

“My mother would have liked you.” Although he had not said much, the six words touched me in a way that no could ever understand the gravity of. It was warming to know that, and unfortunate that I’d never have the opportunity of seeing her.

“You’re Italian, right?” I really hoped he was, otherwise I’d seem like a fool. Although, I was pretty damn sure he was as that would explain the accent.

“Good ears cara mia,” Teddy replied, confirming that he was indeed Italian.

“What does ‘Cara mia’ mean?” Instead of answering my question Teddy just laughed and switched off the lights. Knowing that I wasn’t going to get a reply, I closed my eyes and went to sleep feeling the light touch of Theo’s hand.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hurriedly, I entered the canteen with Theo behind me. We’d accidentally overslept and breakfast was due to finish in 20 minutes. Enzo and Mattheo were the first to see us as we walked towards the table.

“Well well well.” Mattheo announced, a smirk evident on his face. The rest of the group turned to look at us - their empty breakfast plates laid out in front of them.

“Morning.” I rushed out hastily and took my seat - Teddy beside me. Everyone looked at us interested; conveying a thousand questions with their eyes.

“Where were you two?” Pansy questioned first.

“Sleeping.” Teddy replied before popping a piece of toast in his mouth.

Pansy raised an eyebrow suggesting she didn’t believe us. “It’s true, we just overslept.” I stated, defending Teddy.

“Where’d you sleep then Teddy cause you sure weren’t in your dorm?” Astoria asked.

“Zara’s dorm.” Teddy answered smoothly.

“Where were you guys yesterday evening then?” The next question came from Enzo. Unaffected, Teddy continued to eat however I paused very visibly.

“We were at the Astronomy to–” my words were cut off harshly by Tom.

“Aaliya hated that place.” This seemed to finally make Teddy halt, realising he’d basically said the same thing earlier. Tom saying it probably made him hear just how ignorant it sounded assuming we would hate the same thing.

“Well luckily I’m not Aaliya then.” I mumbled annoyedly, irritated that I’d been told the same thing twice.

“Lucky for you, unfortunate for us because I guarantee that everyone at this table would much rather have Aaliya sat where you are and not you.” The words were spoken low but firmly and each one seemed to achieve exactly what they intended to do so.

I looked upwards attempting to fight back the tears but Tom knew what to say to hurt me so it proved to be no use. The rest of the group were staring at me, clearly shocked by what Tom had said. Instantly, I jumped up from my seat and began to walk out the hall ignoring the calls for me. I could hear someone’s footsteps behind me so I turned around to see Teddy had followed me.

“Just don’t…please.” And with that I turned back around and hurriedly exited the canteen alone.

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The quidditch grounds were eerily quiet. After I’d left the hall, I had decided to skip first period and come here as I knew it’d be quiet. A lone tear lingered on my cheeks as my mind continuously replayed Tom’s cruel words: ‘everyone at this table would much rather have Aaliya’. No one at the table had disputed this - they hadn’t needed to, considering I’d only met them a few days ago.

I’d found sanctuary on a bench near the top of the stands. In the distance, trees and plants blew back and forth calmly; meanwhile birds flew enthusiastically across the sky leaving the echoes of their chirps and tweets. Without warning, I felt a light tap on my shoulders as someone took a seat beside me. I turned gradually to face the person only to meet eyes with Hermione Granger. Quickly, I wiped the tears still present on my face before giving her a half-hearted smile.

“You’re Zara, right? I believe we share potions together.” Her words were gentle as she spoke then she proceeded to place a comforting hand on mine.

“Yeah and herbology - which we actually have right now,” I added on, before continuing “Why aren’t you in class right now? I know that sounds hypocritical but you don’t really seem like the type to skip.”

She didn’t seem to take any offense to this as she just laughed and explained,

“Don’t worry, you’re right. We were assigned the task of finding a rare plant on school grounds and, well, I spotted you up here alone so I thought I’d come up.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s very kind of you. What plant is it you're looking for?”

“Aglaoph–” Hermione began, however she didn’t get to finish.

“Aglaophotis. I know where we can get that.” With that, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her up and out her seat before leading her away from the stands. I broke into a run across the quidditch fields with Hermione sprinting behind me. After what felt like an eternity, we reached a part of the forest that I’d not seen anyone visit yet.

“It’s somewhere around here.” I stated, before pacing around in an attempt to find it; Hermione did the same. Then suddenly, she yelled out;

“Found it!”

And just like we did coming here, we both began bolting. Breaking into fits of giggles on the way, Hermione kept relentlessly thanking me, talking about how she owed me one. As we entered the classroom, our hopes were crushed as everyone seemed to already be back here. Professor Pomona paused what she was saying and looked towards us expectantly before commenting,

“No one else was successful in finding the Aglaophotis girls, are you the same?”

A grin graced both mine and Hermione’s face as we both proudly held up the plant while Hermione mouthed another ‘thank you’ at me.

“Well done, that’s ten points for Slytherin and ten points for Gryffindor!” Professor Pomona declared while the rest of class collectively cheered and clapped.

In the back of the classroom, I sighted Enzo looking regretfully at me, reminding me of the events from this morning. He looked towards the empty seat beside him, as if inviting me to sit on it. However, Hermione also had a spare seat beside her and so I took that one. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it appreciatively as I sat down. There was about 20 minutes left of herbology and everyone had gone up to present their projects from last lesson - Enzo and I were last. I avoided any attempt at eye contact with Enzo through our presentation and focused solely on getting it done; We scored an 18/20 on our project. Finally, the bell rang signifying the end of the lesson. Enzo tried to follow after me as I left class however I just ignored his attempts.

On my way to potions, I saw Theo at his locker and he coincidentally turned around at the right time to see me walking past. Instantly, he slammed his locker shut and followed after me. I picked up my pace not wanting him to catch up to me. Although, the universe didn’t seem to want the same thing as I felt Theo wrap his hand around my wrist pulling me into the janitor’s closet.

My body pressed against his, as the janitor’s closet seemed to be very cramped and small.

“Let go of me Theo.” I whispered while I attempted to pull my hand out of his unwavering grip.

“Don’t call me Theo…please.” If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say he was begging but Theodore Nott doesn’t beg.

“Look, I’m sorry about what Tom said this morning, è uno sciocco.” he continued, his eyes conveying the sincerity of his words. I turned my face away from Theo not wanting to look at him right now.

“It’s true though, no? I mean no one said anything because you and I both know he’s right.” I rushed the words out not wanting to cry again.

“No, it’s not tesoro. You left in such a hurry you didn’t see but trust me, I definitely put Tom in his place, okay?”

Teddy brings his palm to touch my cheek and brings me to look at him. Reluctantly, I oblige rotating my face to look at him directly. Teddy’s arms then engulfed me in a hug and I nuzzled my head into his neck seeking comfort before rising up on my tiptoes to kiss him to which he immediately responded.

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After mine and Teddy’s encounter in the closet, he kindly walked me to my next lesson which was a double period of potions. For lunch, I’d eaten it with Hermione and her friends: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley in the library so I didn’t have to face Tom, or the rest of the others for that matter. The rest of the day went by quickly.

The slytherin common room was quiet apart from the few hushed voices around the place. I was sitting on the couch studying for my first potions exam since joining Hogwarts this semester. Then to my right, I saw the slytherin common room door swing open; in waltzed Astoria and Pansy who appeared to be gossiping about something. They evidently paused as they spotted me sitting on the couch. Astoria was the first to break the awkward silence that had surrounded us three.

“Hi, I’m sorry about what Tom said earlier - he was way out of line - and we’re sorry for not speaking up.” Astoria looked nervous as she approached where I was and sat next to me. Pansy, who sat on the arm of the couch, then chimed in agreeing,

“Yeah, I mean Tom is…well Tom but he was wrong for what he said. Even though we only met you a few days ago, we really like you and love having you as a friend.”

I finally put down the book I was pretending to read while they talked to me, and rotated to look at them.

“Thank you, that actually means a lot.” I replied genuinely. They both nodded in sync and started up their gossip again after catching me up.

During Astoria’s passionate rant, Tom Riddle - the one and only - stormed up to where I’m sitting before staring me down long and hard. Scanning his face closely, I realised he has a purple bruise around his eye that seemed somewhat fresh. Taking away my attention from his face, he then muttered the one thing I’d never expect to hear from his mouth: an apology.

“I’m sorry.” He grunted out quietly like it was hurting him. Before I had time to reply he’s already turned back around and exited the common room. In the corner of the room, I see Enzo, Mattheo and Teddy laughing at what just occurred. My eyes narrowed at the sight, meanwhile I suddenly recalled Teddy’s words from earlier ‘I definitely put Tom in his place, okay?’ Anger bubbled inside of me as I registered that the bruise must have been Teddy’s doing, no doubt.

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“What the hell is wrong with you Theo?!” I exclaimed.

When I had understood what he’d done, I had dragged Theo away from Mattheo and Enzo and back to his dorm room immediately to scold him.

“Ugh, please stop calling me Theo.”

“Is that really what you’re choosing to fixate on? How about you explain to me why the HELL Tom has an f-ing bruise near his eye.” I was pacing around the room briskly in an attempt to work out my irritation; this did not appear to work.

“I already told you earlier that I’d dealt with him. He doesn’t get to go around saying rude things, especially like that, to you.” Teddy quietly admitted. I took a deep breath before gently saying,

“And you don’t get to go around hurting other people just because they were mean to me.”

Teddy’s face clearly expressed he strongly disagreed however he made no move to voice it. Tired of arguing with him already, I crawled into his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. I leaned forwards to kiss Teddy and I felt his body relax under mine. His fingers toyed with the hem of my skirt and my fingers found their way into his curly locs.

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It was the middle of the night; I, however, couldn’t sleep. Although Teddy seemed to have no trouble sleeping peacefully. On the floor, my uniform lay scattered as I now sported one of Theo’s t-shirts instead. The view from his window was beautiful: the moon was bright in the sky which was a deep blue. In the distance, I saw an owl approaching swiftly. A message for Theo. I was about to wake Teddy up, however the owl seemed to halt specifically in front of me. Consequently, a white scroll was then dropped by the owl right into my hand before it left.

Dear Zara,

I didn’t think there’d be a day where I’d be able to write this to you but it seems a miracle has been performed. Your father and I received a call from a lab that there had been a mistake with some data processing a while back. The young girl we buried is not Aaliya. DNA samples got mixed up and, well, Aaliya has been found. We’ll send transport for you, first thing in the morning. I love you darling and we’re gonna be a complete family again.

Love Mother xoxoxo

Tears streamed down my face as I read the final sentence ‘we’re gonna be a complete family again.’ In my peripheral vision, I saw Teddy making his way towards me.

“Are you okay, Cara mia? What are you doing up?” Theo questions as he rubbed his eyes trying to fully wake himself up. Lost for words, I carefully handed him the letter to which he opened and silently read. Instantaneously, Teddy turned to me and buried me in a hug. To the wildlife outside, we seemed like just two innocent silhouettes sharing a warming embrace. However, Teddy and I knew that life would soon change. It’d be complex, but it’d be better.

#theodore nott #slytherin #gryffindor #theo nott x reader

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 2 months ago

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New SpaceTime out Wednesday

SpaceTime 20250402 Series 28 Episode 40

Largest organic molecules found on Mars

Scientists analyzing pulverized rock using NASA’s Mars Curiosity rover have discovered the largest organic compounds ever seen on Red Planet -- and could be the remnants of fatty acids.

Parker Solar Probe survives its close encounter with the Sun

NASA’s Parker Solar Probe has just survived another close encounter with the Sun swooping to within 6.1 million kilometres of the solar surface.

Earliest days of Earth’s formation may have been very different from what we thought

Scientists have found that planet Earth’s lower mantle may have been formed under very different dynamics than what had originally been hypothesised, with evidence of low pressure rather than high pressure crystallisation.

The Science Report

Study warns that the amount of dissolved oxygen in the world's lakes has declined profoundly since 2003.

The golden key to being healthy in old age.

Scientists have developed a way of purifying urban wastewater

Alex on Tech: something better than lithium-ion batteries

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States. The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science. SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research. The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network. Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor. Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth. That compares to the ABC’s overall radio listenership of just 5.6 per cent. The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually. However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage. Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently. StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016. Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #astrophysics #esa #spacetimewithstuartgary #starstuff #spacetime #hubble telescope #hubble

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charliewinter60 · 8 months ago

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Charlie and Elle's identity arc - Heartstopper Season 3

Both characters have conversations with people who "don't mean any harm or ill intent", but say things that are very ignorant or offensive towards Charlie and Elle. Elle has that fucking interviewer going on about the "trans debate" (And like Elle said, trans people aren't a debate, they are human beings), reducing her whole person to just being "the trans girl", completely ignoring the fact they were gonna talk about Elle's art and rise to fame: and Charlie has a conversation with his uncle at Christmas, and while Charlie has had a shit ton of things going on in his life (His new boyfriend, him playing the drums, Uni being soon, his french trip, etc.), the only thing his uncle asked him was him going to the psych ward and nothing else (And then the cousins chiming in and the unnecessary comments early that day about his weight from his grandparents.)

First of all, this does amazing commentary and presents how people who don't even have bad intentions, can still cause harm to others even if they don't mean it. Not meaning to do something doesn't mean you didn't do anything. That fucking interviewer may have just wanted to be an Ally and try to defend trans people, and Charlie's family may have just wanted to get to know Charlie and genuinely ask how he is doing, but there's a time, place and language for that.

And if you don't know some things about certain topics, there's this cool thing called Google, because the other (ex. Charlie and Elle) don't have to numb their pains so you (ex. Charlie's family, that fucking interviewer.) can understand a topic. Only if they are okay with it, they are not mandated to be your encyclopedia's in topics you don't understand just because they do.

If you really love or care about someone, you would do the effort to be respectful. Isaac literally told Charlie he didn't want to give a vocab lessons about aromanticism to all his friends and when Charlie asked what aromanticism was, Isaac told him to google it and he did. It's a very tiny scene, but Charlie researching what aromanticism is shows how much he loves and cares for his friend. Isaac showed his boundaries and Charlie respected them. Charlie's family should've asked if it was okay for him to talk about it. (Especially since they keep asking if there were straight jackets and all that? Like? They are all shits and giggles about that, but wouldn't Charlie be traumatized if he did have an experience as they describe it? Why would he talk about it like it's the gossip of the week? Fucking hell.) And well, that fucking interviewer is just evil. Why would this 16 year old be pleased to talk about her sole existence making bigots pissed, wishing she didn't exist? Huuuh? Manipulative fuck.

Charlie is not just "a boy with anoxeria and OCD.". He is a very smart boy who loves astronomy, Greek literature, plays the drums and Mario Kart, loves scary movies and dislikes Marvel movies, and more.

Elle is not just "a trans girl." She is a very creative girl who loves to paint and draw, as it lets her express feelings she can't really put into words; a girl who can make her own clothes, a girl who wants to see the world and see what's out there, a girl who deep down is a very silly and goofy but still stylish and loves to party and more.

And yes, Elle is trans and Charlie does have anorexia and OCD, but you don't just simply ignore those facts, but you also don't reduce them to that. People are so much more than the one thing they are "known" for. if we loved and care for those people, we will do our research and respect their boundaries. 🍂

#heartstopper #heartstopper season 3 #nick and charlie #charlie spring #nick nelson #elle argent

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liketolaugh-writes · 11 months ago

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I’ve been binging DP fanfiction for like a month and I’m starting to get astronomy news in my Google algorithm bc of how often DP fics mention NASA

#danny phantom

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saurabhshukladigitalcreator · 1 year ago

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#@saurabhshukladigital #technology #climate change #planet #global warming #india news today #google news #astronomy #hubble telescope #spritual #notes to self #Amrit vichar

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emberfrostlovesloki · 2 years ago

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Eclipsed [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@without-ado) Center (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (Google)

Prompt: A one-shot about how the reader saved Aaron from a date gone wrong and when Aaron, Jack, and the reader go to see the solar eclipse together.

Pairing: Aaron x fem presenting reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: Hurt/comfort/fluff (at the end)

Word Count: 6.6K

Content warnings: Mentions of a break-up and cheating (reader), mention of alcohol and drinking, there is an inebriated person (they are safe), unwanted touch (on the chest [Hotch]), mention of extremist ideologies, mention of bombings, death by bomb (unsub and victim), religious intolerance (religion not specified), veterans issues, slight body image issues (Hotch), slight depression (Hotch and reader), mention of drugs, therapists. Post - Hailey’s passing. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Hi loves. It’s time for another meet-cute one-shot. This story is based on the fact that I got to see the solar eclipse two weekends ago. It’s also inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins and her awesome Meet Cute Writing Challenge. The prompt I went off of was: Characters are both stood up at the same date spot. I also want to thank Rome @criminalskies who I bounced this idea off of. Their comments helped build up this narrative. Also, this fic takes place a few years after Hailey’s death. Those who know about astronomy will know that those in Virginia would not actually see the full eclipse, but please just suspend your belief in reality for the sake of the story. I hope you all like this story, and if you do, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all have a great Tuesday - Levi

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/f/a/d = your favorite alcoholic drink

l/n = your last name

e/c = your eye color - aka green eyes, brown eyes, hazel eyes, etc,

y/n was nursing an old-fashioned and bruised ego. It had been half an hour, and “Jake” hadn’t shown up for their date at the bar. She had done all the things that those trying to get back into dating recommended: Pick good realistic pictures, be honest about expectations in the bios, and actually get out there on dates. Because generally, relationships were rarely made solely online. One had to actually go out and meet the guy or girl that had piqued the person’s interest. y/n had gone as far as Facetiming Jake to make sure he wasn’t a catfish. Something about his pictures looked a little too good to be true. But he had been real, and y/n was honestly surprised that he had shown an interest in her.

y/n had agreed to meet him at his favorite bar downtown. She half agreed to see if Jake was pulling her leg. y/n had not been very successful in her dating life. There had been a few flubbed relationships in college and then she had thought she had met the love of her life. It had started out as long distance, but she and her partner had met in person and sparks flew. They had committed and a year later they were engaged. She really thought she was going to have it all. ‘You stupid idiot,’ y/n’s inner monologue chided. y/n took another sip of her drink. She had moved to D.C. for them. It was at that point that she realized that her supposed faithful lover had been cheating on her for five months. And there she was in a new city, looking for a new job, and in some of the worst emotional pain of her life. It had taken her a full year to recover from the hurt and betrayal. y/n now looked at love with a bitterness that she never thought would happen to her. She never thought she was going to grow up to be a cat lady, and as relaxing and unbothered as that life sounded like, part of her still longed for a soft and gentle love. For someone to lean on.

As y/n finished her drink, her gaze fell back to the bar. She cringed at what she saw. It had been happening for the last half hour and it was like watching a trainwreck. She wanted to avert her eyes, but she couldn’t look away. It had started when the very handsome man had stepped into the bar. He was tall and gave off a commanding aura. y/n had rolled her eyes at her brain's choice of words. At this point, she checked the door every time someone came in to see if it was Jake. He was already ten minutes late. But it wasn’t Jake, it was this tall, fit man in a suit and tie that she thought might be Dolce and Gabbana. ‘Out of your tax bracket,’ she thought. y/n tore her eyes away from the man and pulled out her phone to text her date. When it became apparent to her that he wasn’t coming, she got a drink for herself. She’d driven twenty minutes to get here after all, so she was going to enjoy it solo. As she turned back to her spot, she saw the man again. He was seated at a table like hers. He also seemed to be waiting for something. As she passed him, he turned his wrist to look at his watch again. y/n clocked the Rolex, and she was starting to feel a bit jealous of whoever was supposed to be joining this stranger. She huffed at herself. As y/n sat and took a sip of her y/f/a/d she thought, ‘You really need to work on your negative self-talk.’ It took a few more minutes before the attractive man’s face seemed to fall into a morose expression. y/n hadn’t seen the man smile yet, but his face was more somber now than it had been before. He was also looking at the door from time to time, and y/n genuinely wondered if he had also been stood up. She couldn’t help but think, ‘Well whoever stood this guy up is a real dummy.’

A few minutes later, the man got up and moved to a seat at the bar instead. The place was crowded. She assumed he did this to make room for a group that had just entered the establishment. This meant the man was kind and had a taste in fashion. Double whammy. The trainwreck part of the night started when a woman, who was clearly a few drinks in, started hitting on the man. The inebriated woman had ordered a drink and made a comment about “How such a hot guy was at a bar alone?” The man had politely answered but showed no interest in a continued conversation. The woman did not pick up on these cues. The man declined when the woman asked to buy him a drink and to have him join her at her table upstairs. Finally, the woman went away, and the man looked relieved. But if anything, apart from the fact that the woman had probably had one too many, was the fact that she was relentless. She had come back and tried to convince the man two more times to join her or go home with her, or any assortment of awkward pick-up lines and lewd suggestions she could think of. Given what he was enduring, the man was handling the situation with incredible grace and decorum.

y/n actually felt a small bit of pity for the drunk woman. She didn’t have her full faculties and if she had that much to drink, she might be throwing herself at the man just the same. And now the woman was back for a third time. And this time she was getting handsy. It was at this that y/n felt discomfort. The man was firmer now, but the woman’s hands continued to feel over his shoulders and chest. The man looked around uncomfortably, and y/n thought, ‘Would someone stop this, please!” y/n clearly realized that if someone was going to stop what was happening at the bar, then it was going to have to be her. A wild and outlandish idea hit her, and she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She stood and approached the pair. y/n cleared her throat and stood next to the man, separating him from the woman. She placed her hand on his shoulder. As he looked at her, she stated, loudly enough for the other woman to hear, “Hey, honey. Sorry, it took me so long to get here. The traffic was terrible getting into the city.”

Aaron was suffering. The latest case had been rough. The unsub was a veteran who had fallen on hard times and had started using drugs to cope with the trauma he had endured during the first invasion of Iraq. Along with the drugs, he had started to form delusions and fallen into some extremist conspiracy theories. The man had started bombing churches, and at the last minute, the team was able to save a religious building from imploding. And Aaron was relieved by this, but he had made a bad call. He fully assumed that the unsub would give up and get the treatment he desperately needed if the man’s former commanding officer gave the unsub orders to stand down. The man did seem to give up, but at the last second, the unsub approached his old superior. He pulled out a trigger and set off a pipe bomb that he had hidden in his cargo pants; killing himself and his former officer instantly.

The team was lucky that the area was cleared by the bomb squad because the blast was so strong that it shook the ground and knocked out the glass windows two buildings away. And now Aaron had to live with his choice to send an active duty and decorated military officer into that situation. He had gambled and lost. After that, there had been piles and piles of paperwork, and a reprimand from Strauss about his ability to do his job well and lead the team. There was also a piece in the news highlighting the team's failure. Hotch had made sure that any heat the team took from the public was aimed at him. They hadn’t been the ones to make the call. He had. And yes, the paperwork, reprimand, and public disapproval were annoying, but it was never going to be enough to make up for the loss of life. After this, Aaron actually felt like he understood how Gideon had felt those many years ago in Boston.

Hotch had completely forgotten that he had agreed to meet a woman he was talking to on a dating app three days after he had returned home from the case. She had texted him in the morning asking if they were still on. He felt like it was too late to cancel on the woman, so he agreed even if he really wasn’t feeling it. He planned to fake it on the date, gently let the woman down, and then delete everything off his phone when he got home. He wasn’t in a place to be in a relationship right now. Aaron was glad when his date didn’t show up. Once what felt like an appropriate time had passed for him to sit at the table for two, he got up and moved to the bar. He did like this bar, which is why he had suggested it in the first place. Hotch would never be a man to drown his sorrows, but tonight, after everything that had happened, he allowed himself to have a drink alone. Then a different kind of discomfort from being stood up appeared, as a woman approached him. Aaron did everything he could to let her down and get her to leave him alone with his thoughts. The logical side of Hotch’s brain told him to get up and leave, but some maladapted piece of him told him that this was some sort of cosmic justice for his mistakes. He was uncomfortable when the woman started touching him, and at this point, with no other solution in sight apart from fleeing the scene, he got ready to close out.

When another woman approached him and stood between himself and the person who had essentially been groping his chest. He felt even more apprehensive. But when the new stranger said, “Hey, honey. Sorry it took me so long to get here. The traffic was terrible getting into the city,” he blinked a few times in confusion. It took him a beat to realize what the new person was offering; a lifeline. Hotch immediately played along and said, “Now worries, darling. I’m just happy you got here safe. I know it can be a long commute.” The woman gave him a reassuring smile, and he continued, “How about we find a place that’s a little more private?” The woman nodded, and Aaron got up from his seat. The other woman who was still standing close by looked crestfallen, as the two of them moved across the room to the table y/n had been sitting at before. Aaron, having the opportunity to really make this look real of the woman still standing at the bar, ghosted his arm behind his savior's waist. He didn’t actually make physical contact with her body. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or for her to think that he was some creep taking advantage of her kindness, but he faked it well enough, and the woman at the bar made a hasty retreat upstairs.

At the table, they both sat down for a second, and Aaron sincerely said, “Thank you. I was really at a loss back there.” The woman gave him a small smile and replied, “I’m happy to help. I can’t believe that actually worked. It felt like being in the scene of a romcom.” For the first time that evening, Aaron smiled. It was small, but it was still an actual smile. He extended his hand and said, “Aaron, Hotchner.” The woman took it and replied, “y/n, l/n.” There was a moment of silence and then the woman said, “Aaron huh. I kind of pegged you as a Thomas.” Again there was another silence and Aaron looked at the table and asked, “I’m sorry, am I in someone’s seat? Are you waiting for somebody?” y/n seemed to deflate at this and said, “No. The man who was supposed to be meeting me made it pretty clear that he wasn’t going to show up forty minutes ago when he was allegedly arriving.” Hotch let out a breath and said, “Well, you’re not alone in that.”

Hearing this response confirmed that Aaron had been stood up like she assumed. y/n replied, “Sometimes I really can’t stand the idea of dating anymore.” Aaron heard the sarcastic bite of the statement, but underneath there was a real note of sorrow. He took a moment to look over y/n carefully. For someone that had their date ditch them, y/n seemed nonplussed, comfortable even. She was leaning against the back of her chair with one hand slung over the back. She had an air of disinterest like nothing could bother her. Somehow Aaron didn’t believe the persona she was exuding. He looked over her face. It was too dark in the bar for him to see if her e/c's were dilated or not. Whenever Hotch made a close observation of those he got close to, especially women.

They had some kind of attraction tell. He couldn’t figure out why exactly. What they saw in him apart from his height which he knew some people were attracted to. Other than that, he was rapidly approaching middle age, his crows-feet stated that clearly to the world. And though he tried to stay active between cases, taking care of Jack meant less physical activity, and that showed on his body. He didn’t hate himself or anything, just that he thought he could be improved. Aaron snapped to the present when y/n said, “I’m going to grab another drink? Do you want something?” Hotch thought for a second. In y/n’s offering to get him a drink was an invitation for him to stay a bit longer. He didn’t want to intrude, but talking to y/n meant he couldn’t hold a pity party for himself. He also wanted to see if y/n really was as nonchalant as she let on. He cleared his throat and said, “Yes. A gin and tonic, please.” y/n nodded and moved back to the bar.

As she went to get a second round of drinks, she could still feel how Aaron’s warm eyes had been looking at her -- deeply, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. She hadn’t fully expected him to accept her offer for a drink, but she had asked because she wanted to spend a few more minutes with him. Because she didn’t expect to spend a lot of time with anyone like this again in a long while, so why not go out with a bang? Also, there was the fact that he was very attractive. The closer he got to her, the better he looked. As she waited for her order, she casually looked back at Aaron, and he seemed to have drifted to a distant place. She frowned. Like this, he looked sad. She wondered what was bothering him so much. Before her breakup, people had told her that she wore her heart on her sleeve, and she was a fool for doing so. After the cheating incident, she had buried that part of her deep inside. But sometimes it came out. When she was sad or needed comfort, or she saw someone hurting. The bartender called for y/n, and she took the glasses in her hand. y/n moved back to the table and she set down their drinks. She was about to sit down, but a noise from behind her caught her attention.

Aaron sat straighter when y/n came back. He said, “Thank you,” and he watched as y/n pulled out of her chair. He watched as the woman who had been hitting on him seemed to be getting ready to leave. She was on unsteady feet and had her keys out. She kept jiggling said keys as she moved toward the door. Hotch frowned and thought that he should do something. Before he could, y/n quietly said, “Excuse me.” y/n turned and moved a few feet across the floor to the woman. Aaron was close enough to the pair to hear y/n say, “Hey ma’am. Miss.” The woman attempting to leave turned and moved toward y/n. y/n put a steadying hand on the woman’s arm and said, “Hey again, you’re not going to try and drive home right?” The woman slurred but affirmed that was her plan. y/n nodded her head no, and replied, “No. I don’t think you should drive. Let me get you an Uber or a cab?” The woman replied, “‘Is only a few blocks down. I’m okay.” y/n replied encouragingly, “Great, if it’s close, then an Uber can get you there in no time and it won’t be expensive. I don’t want you driving. It’s not safe for you.” y/n pulled out her phone and after a second, asked the woman for her address. It took the woman a moment, but she finally thought of it and punched it in on y/n’s phone. y/n double-checked with the woman that this really was her address before punching the request ride button.

The Uber was only two minutes away, and one of the bar's employees offered to walk the woman out once he had the license plate written down. When this was done, Aaron watched as she moved back to the table. When she sat down again, she said, “Sorry about that.” As she took a sip of her drink. He said, “Don’t be. That was very kind of you.” For the first time that night, those words seemed to get to the woman. She flushed slightly and let out the smallest of exhales. And maybe, just maybe he had been right about her not being as aloof as she let on. y/n replied, “Honestly if you left me in this bar for another two hours I might be acting like her.” She paused and tacked on, “I have acted like her, many, many years ago.” Aaron and the y/n spoke for the remainder of their drinks. They talked about easy topics like bands and the weather. Aaron shifted the conversation away from work. He was having an enjoyable time, and he didn’t want to have to think about his job right now. There would be plenty of time for that when he got home. As the two parted ways, neither expected to see the other ever again.

It wasn’t until next month that their paths crossed again like figure skaters on a frozen lake. Aaron was feeling much better. Less despondent. The team had really bolstered around him. They weren’t clingy, because they knew he hated that, but they had been understanding, compassionate even. Hotch was gearing up for another Monday in the office. He was just taking off his two guns and placing them along with his keys and sunglasses in a plastic container. His briefcase and duffle also went into a tray that would go through security. The security guard motioned for Aaron to move through the metal detector which he did. And as he did every day he was in the office, he lifted his arms slightly as the guard patted him down the chest and legs. This was an obvious security need for the job, but he didn’t always like it. He didn’t get a lot of physical contact, and this didn’t exactly cut it for comfort. But it was always quick, and he would grab his things and pretend that it didn’t bother him.

Aaron looked up when he heard Daryl Jones's deep baritone voice coming his way. Agent Jones was the Unit Chief for the Drug and Firearm unit like he was the Chief of the BAU. The two teams intersected on cases every now and then. Aaron was never not surprised by Jones’s deep voice. It was the deepest voice he had ever heard. There was another voice too. Much lighter in pitch and tone. Hotch looked up and was surprised to see the woman who had helped him during the uncomfortable encounter at the bar. He wracked his brains for her name, and after a moment it came to him; y/n. The security guard let him go, and Aaron quickly took his things and moved toward y/n and Jones. As he drew nearer, y/n looked over to him and the surprise on her face must have looked like he had moments earlier. She looked over his badge. Rather awkwardly, y/n extended her hand and said, “Hello again, Aaron.” Hotch took her hand and replied, “Good morning, y/n. Is everything alright?”

Jones looked between the two and asked, “Agent Hotchner, do you know Ms. l/n?” Aaron could sense that y/nwas slightly embarrassed, and he answered quickly, “We’ve met once before.” Jones nodded and y/n looked up to Aaron and answered his question saying, “I think everything will be alright. Thanks to Agent Jones.” Daryl replied, “Well, I’ll do what I can, and if you see anything else suspicious or troubling please come and see me again, alright?” y/n nodded and said, “I will, thanks.” Jones nodded and gave the woman a reassuring pat on the shoulder. As she moved forward, y/n turned back to Aaron and said, “It was good to see you again Aaron.” With that, she moved through security and out the doors of the bureau.

Hotch watched, as she left, and he turned back to Jones and asked, “What was that all about?” Jones moved with Aaron back toward the elevators and said, “You know about the Menendez cocaine ring we’ve been trying to crack?” Hotch nodded yes, but wasn’t sure how this factored into the discussion of y/n. All the Unit Chiefs met weekly and updated the others on what was happening, and if there was any need for the teams currently working on a case to cross-coordinate. Jones’s team had been after a drug cartel for months, but every time they got close, the leads seemed to disappear. Jones had started to believe that there must be someone on the inside who was either FBI or police. As it turned out, Daryl might be right as he said, “Well Ms. l/n was trying to file a report about some drug activity. Janet, my liaison had asked her why she didn’t go to the police, and l/n stated that she had seen an officer she knows works for the city going into the house allegedly selling drugs.

She was scared that if she reported it to LEOs, there might be repercussions.” Aaron processed the information. y/n was right to avoid the cops if she expected them to be involved. There had been many cases where those supposed to be protecting and serving, overstepped those boundaries. Jones continued his story and said, “When Janet heard the part about the potential police involvement, she brought me in on the conversation. I asked Ms. l/n a lot of questions. She was very patient. And by the end of that conversation, I’m pretty sure we have a good lead for Menendez.” Hotch let out a breath.

For a second a flash of fear for y/n moved through him. Having her, or anyone living near illegal activity was dangerous. Doubly so now that she had made a report about it. Aaron pushed that thought aside. As unfortunate as it was, he didn’t have the time to be worried about everybody. If he did there would be no time to get any work done. It was good that the Menendez case was getting some new life, and Aaron said, “It’s good you have a new lead. I understand that the case has been ongoing for a while.” Jones sighed and said, “Tell me about it.” There was a moment of silence as the men got on the elevator and pushed their floor buttons.

Daryl looked over to Aaron and asked, “How do you know y/n exactly;?” Hotch flushed briefly and said, “We just ran into each other last month. I don’t know her personally.” Hotch was glad that Jones was not a profiler, because if he was, his colleague might see how his body was softly saying, ‘But you want to know her personally.’ Aaron sighed and exited the elevator on floor six. He moved past the bullpen and up to his office. As he sat, he couldn’t deny that y/n was beautiful. She had been dressed up at the bar. She had been expecting a date after all. But today she was dressed more casually and it looked good on her. Aaron let out a breath and settled into his chair. It was going to be a day full of paperwork, and with head a bit aflutter, he didn’t mind the mindless work for once.

The next time they met would be the one that started their relationship. Aaron was sitting in the waiting room to be called back by his therapist. Strauss had required him to attend seven therapy sessions after the bombing incident. She didn’t want a repeat of Gideon. Aaron had gone and talked about what had happened. Talked about his feelings. It was awkward, but he knew why he needed to go. When the required sessions were over, he decided to continue with a different therapist. Someone who might better address his personal needs and complicated past. That was how he met Dr. Chekov. At the consultation, Aaron felt good, and the therapist agreed to take Aaron on as his client.

Now they met monthly on Tuesday evenings after he was finished with work. Aaron was grateful to have a safe space to air his emotions and thoughts about the past and present. He thought it was doing things to better his mental health. He had slowly stopped beating himself up about his body. He was now working through the grief that was losing Hailey. It was some of the most painful work he had done, but it was necessary. He knew that he couldn’t carry that hurt forever. At least not how it was now. Aaron checked his watch. Dr. Chekov must be running over with another client. Hotch’s eyes raised to the door as the bell went off. His eyes widened when y/n walked through the open door. He thought, ‘You have to be kidding me.’ The office space housed multiple therapists, so it wasn’t surprising that someone else would be waiting in the waiting room, but it was surprising that y/n would end up in the same building as him, again.

y/n checked in for her appointment with her therapist. She had to reschedule her appointment due to a work emergency. Her therapist, Dr. Glen, had been very accommodating and had slipped her in at a later time that week. She turned once she had handed the form to the receptionist to find a seat while she waited. The office was pretty empty, but her eyes caught onto Aaron’s, and she let out a small breath of surprise. She could see that he was just as surprised as her, and y/n smiled and moved to sit next to him. She pointed to the chair adjacent to his and asked, “This seat taken?” It was a rhetorical question. Hotch chuckled at her inquiry. The office was virtually empty. He replied, “I think it is.”

y/n sat next to him, and as she put her purse on the ground their shoulders touched. Feeling the warmth of her body, even for a moment, made him flush. When y/n righted, she looked at him and said, “It’s nice to see you again, Aaron. What a surprise it would be here. How have you been doing?” y/n thought back to the first time they had met and how he had looked so deeply saddened. As she looked him over, she thought he looked better. More relaxed. It made her glad. Aaron replied, “I’m doing better, I think. I’m trying.” Hotch could see that she was really looking at him. That she cared about what he was saying. After a beat, he asked, “How are you, y/n. How are things in your neighborhood? I might have asked Agent Jones about what was going on when I saw you at the bureau.”

y/n flushed when she heard that Aaron had checked in on her. She cleared her throat softly and said, “I’ve been alright. I’m kind of going through something, thus the therapy, but otherwise, I’m well. And it’s the same with the neighborhood. There are still people coming and going at all hours of the night. I just avoid any interaction with them as Agent Jones suggested.” Aaron nodded and said, “Good. If you ever feel unsafe please just leave. Come to the bureau again and Agent Jones can help you figure something out.” Hotch thought about how she was going through something, and he wanted to ask what it was. But he didn’t want to pry or bring up bad memories for y/n. y/n similarly wanted to ask Aaron about working in the FBI, but she didn’t know how much he could talk about his work given its sensitive nature. So they sat there in silence until y/n finally asked, “Aaron, would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” She sounded rather embarrassed as she asked. She smiled again, brightly as he said, “I’d like that, y/n.”

They had gone to coffee, and neither of them approached it like a date, but by the end of the two hours of just talking, it was clear to both of them that there was a connection between them. Then they had gone rock climbing at y/n favorite gym, and she had complained about how unfair it was that Aaron could get routes in so few moves due to his height. She also didn’t really believe that he hadn’t done a significant amount of bouldering before that night. When he teasingly said that he really didn’t practice beforehand, she could only assume that he was very athletic, and a man of many talents. Then they had gone to dinner. And y/n met Jack when they watched a kid's movie together. And the love bloomed between them. Aaron hadn’t told the team about them yet, but he was going to ask if y/n would like to join him at Rossi’s next party. It would be an easy way for her to meet the other important people in his life. But for now, they were cruising down the highway to get to a park a half hour out of town.

Aaron hoped it wouldn’t be too crowded. When y/n had said she was excited to see the eclipse, Aaron had suggested they go together with Jack and make a day of it. y/n had readily agreed. Aaron was keeping his eyes on the road and playing some soft jazz at a low level. y/n was half-turned in her seat talking to Jack about school and soccer. When they arrived at the small park, y/n and Aaron were relieved to see that there weren't many cars in the lot. y/n helped unbuckle Jack while Aaron carried the cooler from the back of the car. Aaron had brought some sodas for them to drink while they waited for the solar event. y/n had also packed them some sandwiches and chips to snack on for lunch.

The group found a clear spot on the grass. There were a few other families and a couple or two scattered around the field. Jack was restless and asked, “What’re we waiting for Daddy?” Aaron looked over to his son and said, “Well, in around an hour something is going to happen to the sun. It will get kind of dark. We even have some special glasses so we can look at it while it happens.” Jack seemed to understand a little and said, “What happens to the sun? Is it fast?” Aaron looked over to y/n. She knew more about this than him.

y/n beamed at Jack and moved to sit in front of him. She explained, “Well, you know the sun and moon right?” Jack nodded eagerly. y/n continued, stating, “Well there are some special times when the moon actually gets in front of the sun. It looks like a ring in the sky. It’s kind of like magic.” Jack’s eyes grew wide and he asked, “Why is it a ring?” y/n tried to think about how to best answer. After she found the words, she said, “The sun is a lot bigger than the moon, so when the moon is in front of the sun, you can still see some of it. Isn’t that cool?”

Aaron watched on with a smile at y/n’s enthusiasm and Jack’s attention. As much as his son seemed to want to see the eclipse, he was a six-year-old, and he got restless quickly. Aaron had brought a soccer ball in case this happened. The two played around the field while y/n watched on. She watched while she was lying on her stomach, head propped up in her hands. A gentle smile was on her face. She loved looking at Aaron like this. He was so good with Jack. After he had told her about Hailey’s death, she understood why he was so protective of his son. Why the love was compounded in him. The man had lost someone so painfully. When y/n thought about the hurt that he had endured, she still ached for him, even though he was happy and smiling now. She could never replace what Hailey had been to him, and they were too early in their relationship to think about marriage, but she was glad she could bring Aarons some comfort and joy.

As it got closer to the eclipse, y/n gave everyone their special glasses. They all looked up to the burning star in the sky that was slowly beginning to be covered by the moon. It wasn’t until about another fifteen minutes that the moon was almost entirely eclipsing the sun. And then it happened. The moon centered in front of the sun, and the star made a perfect bright ring in the sky. Aaron looked at the phenomenon for a moment longer before he turned his face to Jack and y/n. He slipped off his glasses and saw the awe on Jack’s face. His gaze then fell on y/n and he felt such a warmth looking at her that the sun being blocked out didn’t even make the world feel cold or darkened. Because when he looked at y/n it was like he was looking at his own personal star, and they were gravitationally pulled to each other. Aaron thought about how the moon had slotted perfectly in front of the sun, forming that ring in the sky. How he felt like his life was coming full circle. The last three years had held such change. There was the pain of losing Hailey and caring for Jack, and he didn’t know how he could go on. And then, like a shooting star y/n had crossed his sky, and he thought that he would never see her again. But he had, and now he had found happiness again. A lasting happiness that no cloud or moon could hide.

After the eclipse, they all had their lunches and then piled back into the car and drove home. Jack quickly fell asleep in the back seat, and y/n moved her hand to his thigh, resting it on the soft flesh. Back at his apartment, y/n moved Jack to his room and tucked him in while Aaron emptied the water and ice from the ice chest in the small front yard of his apartment. When he stepped back inside, he found y/n seated on the couch, and he moved to her. He sat near the edge of the couch and opened his arms for her.

y/n nestled into his arms and chest, and he snaked his arms around her back. One of his hands rested on her lower back and the other was softly stroking the area between her shoulder blades. y/n relaxed against him and hummed contentedly. Aaron quietly asked, “Is Jack still asleep?” He could feel her nod her head yes against his chest, and she replied, “Yes. He’s out like a light. I think this was a pretty exciting day for him.” Hotch moved his hands to her hips, and he set his head back a little to rest on the side of the couch. At this angle, he could see some of Jack's door and the hallway that led to his room. The feeling of y/n resting on him was never going to get old to him. It brought him such comfort. After a short silence, he asked, “Did you enjoy today? I know you were looking forward to it.” _y/n_ replied, “I really did. I love spending time with Jack, and you of course.” As she spoke, her hands made their way to his chest and then slowly down his stomach.

Aaron closed his eyes at the warmth that seeped through him. She continued talking, saying, “I think it’s so amazing that we live on this speck of dust in an infinite universe, and we get to get to see it working. I think that’s pretty special.” Hotch hummed his agreement. He loved it when she spoke like this. Honest and slightly rambling, but fully from the heart. When she had told him about the person who had left her bitter and emotionally broken, he could understand and empathize. But when she spoke like this, he knew that she was coming back to herself. That she was comfortable sharing her heart with him. y/n slipped her hand under his polo and he sucked in a breath. Her fingers gently moved over his abdomen. y/n used her middle finger to swirl the trail of hair that started at his belly button and grew lower down his navel.

Her touch wasn’t sexual, though it could be if they wanted it. But of course, they would never do that with Jack so close. The contact was just to let Aaron know that she was here. _y/n_ found her voice and said, “It was also beautiful. It’s unique. There’s nothing else like it in the universe, and I love it very, very much.” Hotch could sense that she was looking at him, and when he opened his eyes he felt his breath leave his body. She was watching over him with such care and affection, and he knew she wasn’t speaking about the eclipse anymore. As he shifted up to kiss her with a passion. He said, “I love you y/n. More than anything in the world.” They bridged the gap between them, and as their mouths met, it was like the sun kissing the moon, impossibly unlikely, but beautiful and rare as an eclipse.

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