#because it's almost like he's been granted merlin's sight and he sees exactly how it will all end

[nancywheeeler]

arthur / guenevere is compelling because it brings that arranged marriage flavor of "do i love you out of duty or of my own free will?" guenevere / lancelot is compelling because giving into their attraction not only betrays a man they both love, but inherently taints the chivalrous and dutiful qualities they love in one another. arthur / lancelot is compelling because nothing fucks harder than "i pledge my life to you." and arthur / guenevere / lancelot is compelling because it wouldn't change the ending.

[wingedhallows]

we'll be family, part 2; sirius black

pairing: sirius black x reader | 2.6k words plot: sirius is finally back and your godson is as well. You're determined to finally be a family, no one will come between, you're determined. prompt: "we'll be family" authors note: I might make this in a short part siries :)

navigation | part one

You’ve hated these neatly built houses as much as you did fifteen years ago, the way every single one of them looked exactly the same made you want to vomit, it bored you to death.

Harry was tucked behind you, even if he was almost taller than you. You lifted your hand and knocked three times before you could hear some shuffling inside.

The door opened without a sound and Lily’s sister came to sight, her face contorted into a confused or rather bewildered expression.

“Who might you be?” She screeched, her voice had given you a headache all those years ago as well. You’ve been here before, with Lily actually. She had invited her sister and her pig of a husband to their wedding. They didn’t want to hear her out, kicking her out after you had shoved your wand into their faces, ready to recite a curse.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me, Petunia.” You gave her a small smirk before you walked straight past her, your hand in Harry’s as you spoke. “Go, get your things.” Harry had left some books and clothes behind, not everything had found its place in his trunk when he ran away. Harry gave you a nod and sprinted up the stairs.

“Get out of my house this instant, Y/N.” She did remember you.

You turned around and a small chuckle escaped you.

“I’m not here because your company is so exquisite, Petunia. I’m simply here because my godson forgot some of his stuff.” Some heavy footsteps sounded from within the house and Vernon came into sight. His eyes were wide, a pint of ice cream in his fat hands. “What’s she doin’ here?” He grumbled, cheeks painted red from even the littlest physical effort.

“Lovely to see you again as well, Vernon.” You waved at him dramatically and leaned back against the wall. “Get out, right now.” You sighed and shoved a cigarette between your lips. With a tap from your finger it lit itself.

“You really wanna talk to me like that?” You took a drag and blew the smoke in his direction. He didn’t answer as his eyes flew up the stairs. Harry has been rummaging through his former room for a few minutes. You had told him to be thorough, you didn’t want to come back here again.

“How’s your sister, oh, I forgot she’s a bit out of reach lately, right?” Vernon clenched his fat jaw and Petunia threw her hand in front of her mouth with a gasp.

“Well, I’m glad he’s gone actually.” Vernon spoke as he licked the spoon clean. You nodded and blew some more smoke. “Me too, you lot are so awfully boring.” Petunia walked past you to stand next to her disgusting husband. “Excuse me?” You laughed, cigarette sizzling away in your hand.

“You should be ashamed actually.” You paused as you walked up to her, your face now awfully close to her own. “To tell him his parents were killed in a car accident.” Your eyes were cold as you blew some smoke in her face, she had to cough as you watched her, mouth in a sour snarl.

”To say his father was an unemployed drunk when he was one of the best Aurors out there.” You paused, eyeing her up and down.

“Merlin was wise to not grant someone like you a spark of magic.” The stud of the cigarette now in your palm as it vanished. “God knows what a disaster that would’ve been.” 

Harry shuffled down the stairs as you turned around with a bright smile on your face. You embraced his face in your hands and placed a quick peck to his forehead. He gave you a small smile and said, “I’ve got everything.” You nodded and grabbed his hand.

“You were never cut out to be parents, not even with your own.”

You brought a hand to the back of Harry’s head and petted him lovingly.

“He was always better off without you, I hope you know that.” Both of them didn’t speak as you gave Harry a tight smile and said, “Ready?” He nodded and without another word you apparated both of you away, back to Grimmauld Place, back to Sirius.

Your hand was in Sirius’ hair as he had his head in your lap, the book in your other hand hovered over his head. He hummed with his eyes closed as Harry darted into the living room. Your head whipped to the young boy and you closed the book to place it down. Sirius stirred and sat up, his hand snaked around your shoulders.

“Did you need something, Harry?” He nodded and sat down on the small stool in front of the both of you.

“I wanted to ask you about something.” You nodded, waiting for him to continue. Sirius hand found your upper arm to squeeze it lovingly, you looked at him and your heart felt so full. You leaned over to place a kiss on his lips.

“Right, I wanted to ask you about this picture.” He placed one of the many fotobooks on the tiny table and placed his finger on a picture.

Sirius and you were intertwined, limbs crossed and slung in a comfortable manner. The picture displayed you on top of a blonde individual, your fist raised and as fast punching down, sure to break the person's nose.

“Is that Lucius Malfoy?” You brought a hand to your mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. You simply nodded. Sirius barked a laugh and took the album from Harry’s hands, admiring the memory.

“Godric, she beat him up good.”

“Why?” Harry asked, a small smile on his lips. You sighed with a smile on your face.

“He talked shit about your mum, so I hit him.” Harry laughed, his chin rested on his hand as he listened to you explain. Sirius put the album down and heaved another laugh.

“Hit him? You knocked the lights out of him, like a fuckin’ bulldozer.” Harry shook his head as he eyed the photograph again. A satisfying warmth spread in his chest as he watched your fist connect with Malfoy's face over and over again.

“Well, Pettigrew didn’t waste a minute to snap a picture.” You complained, a hand in your hair. His minions had seen Peter with the camera and insisted on having Dumbledore check it. Because there was evidence, you were down for three weeks of detention.

“I’ve never been someone to just sit by when shitheads like Malfoy insult my friends.” Harry nodded and took the album back. He hesitated but asked anyway.

“I now know a lot about Sirius but not so much about you.” He paused and closed the album.

“Should I tell you about myself?” You asked with a small smile on your face.

Harry nodded and placed the album on the small table. “Please.” You nodded and slung one leg over the other, Sirius hand in yours.

”It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, Harry.” He shook his head. “I don’t care.” You nodded and watched Sirius light himself a cigarette.

“I was born into a fanatic pureblood family, just like Sirius. My parents were cruel, selfish pricks who didn’t care about anything else but their image. Had me dress up and displayed like a circus animal most of the time. I had a younger sister and a younger brother.

Ebony and Caspian were kids when our parents pressured them to be a part of the cause.” You air-quoted the last bit. Your chest tightened, the pain of losing both of your younger siblings still sat deep, it would until your last breath left your lungs.

“Ebony was naive, fast to find her place in the ranks of Voldemort's army.” You paused as you took the cigarette Sirius held out for you to take. Harry looked at you, eager to hear more.

“Caspian was wiser, he listened to me and became a member of the Order.” The smoke filled your lungs as you tried to push the tears down. “He was a great wizard and a lovely young boy. Sadly he was one of many people Pettigrew ratted out, he had no chance.” Harry leaned back in his chair and muttered a small “I’m sorry.”

You smiled at him before a huff left you. “Nothing to be sorry about, Harry. It’s sad, but that’s how it is.” Sirius thumb massaged your hand and you flashed him a small smile.

“I met Sirius before our first year, at a pureblood ball, actually. We didn’t like each other at first, the anger of our families stood between us. Around second year I got close to the Gryffindors, I hated nothing more than pretentious, arrogant pureblood pricks, so my house wasn’t really a place to make friends.” Harry chuckled and nodded along.

“All through third and fourth year we became great friends, all of us. At the end of fifth year, I had a bad fallout with my parents. I refused to get the dark mark and my father dueled with me. I had worked on my wandless magic since third year and I kind of felt this fight with my parents coming.

Working with McGonagall on wandless magic all those years saved my life, I believe. He didn’t spare me but neither did I. If I weren’t more focused on protecting my little brother, who was only thirteen or so, I would’ve killed him, maybe I should’ve.” You paused and wiped a stray tear. The smoke filled your lungs again and Sirius took a drag as well. His lips swiftly on yours for a quick peck.

“I escaped with my beaten brother in hands to the gates of Hogwarts. With the last bit of strength I sent my owl, Onyx, to alert Dumbledore. He made sure we were safe.” The stud of the cigarette found its way into the old ashtray and you took a breath.

“Ebony was lost to the dark, I knew that much, but Caspain was alright, that was all that mattered to me.”

“Caspian and I stayed with the Potters over the summer the next few years, I’ll alway be thankful to their kindness and generosity.” Harry nodded and rubbed his thumb on his chin with a questioning look on his face.

“So, Caspian died because of Peter Pettigrew’s betrayal.” You nodded, a pang of pain in your chest followed. “Your sister, Ebony, is she-”I sure hope she is, I killed her myself.” 

The tears formed again, as you remembered how your baby sister layed on the dirty ground, clothes torn, lip bloody as she stared you down. “Eby.” You had whispered, your wand in your hand, hair in a tangled mess. Tears coated her cheeks as she choked up.

“I won’t apologize.” She had said, as fleeting light exposed her bleeding form. “I know.” You had whispered back, tears leaving your eyes as well.

She was dying.

Blood seeped from her mouth, her nose. “You do it, no one else.” The terror shook you, your damp clothes seemed to cage in like an iron claw. “Of course.” Your knees had connected with the damp ground as your hand found her cheek, a sob escaped your lips.

“I love you, Eby.” She nodded, her eyes roaming your face. Her lips tore into a smile as she sobbed a quiet “Love you too.” Blood splattered in your direction. “Avada Kedavra.” You had whispered and with a green flash she was dead.

“Excuse me.” You whispered, before you jumped to your feet and made your way out of the room. There were so many things you had buried, tried to forget. It was all in vain, you were damned to remember, to feel those emotions, to relive those events. You’re simply damned.

Your chest heaved with panic, your hands trembled, sweaty. “Love?” You whipped around to face Sirius, his face twisted into an empathic manner, his hands held out for you to take. Harry stood behind him, his eyes on the ground.

“Love, come here.” You took a big breath and embraced the man you loved, his hands wrapped tightly around you. You reached your hand out for Harry to take.

“Harry, love.” You called, his eyes found yours. With hesitant steps he made his way to you, his warm hand grasped yours.

“Don’t feel guilty, it’s just hard, is all.” You embraced him in your hug. There the three of you stood, tightly wrapped in a hug. You ruffled Harry’s hair and gave him a small smile.

“Though it’s in the past, it doesn’t always stay there. I wanted to tell you, so don’t feel bad.” He nodded and placed his hand in yours.

“The more I get to know you, Y/N. There more I see what a great woman you are. I’m glad to have you as my godmother.” You embraced the boy's face in your hands and placed a quick peck on his forehead. You wrapped your hands around Harry.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Oh, how touching. Nice to see the family coming along.” Remus closed the door behind himself. You broke apart and walked over to your dear friend.

“Rem, how good to see you.” You smiled before embracing the man in a hug. “Moony, old friend.” Sirius smiled and hugged him as well.

“Kreacher, go fetch a bottle.” Sirius threw at the mean old house elf. “No need.” Remus swatted his hand.

“I come bearing news.” He rested his hand on the chair next to him. “Quite urgent, it seems.” “Good or bad?” You threw in, eyebrows furrowed. He tilted his head and gave you a small smile.

“However you want to take it, dear Y/N.” He paused and you huffed in amusement.

“There might be a hint on Peter. Albus wants to see you, Y/N.”

The smile left your face in an instant. “And he sent you because?-”He thought you might like my face more than Kingsley’s.” You patted Remus’ shoulder.

“True that.”

“They’re coming with me, both of’em.” You stated. Sirius's eyes found yours.

“But Sirius is still-”I’m not the struggling witch fifteen years ago, Moony. If they want either of them, they’ve got to go through me, so, Peter is as much Harry’s problem as mine or Sirius’ and we all want revenge. I’ll take responsibility, does that make you feel better?”

Remus shook his head with a sigh before holding his hand out for you.

“Once a troublemaker, always a troublemaker, huh?”

You nodded and held your hand for Harry to take, Sirius hand found your arm as well and within a flash the four of you had aparated to the grounds of Hogwarts. 

“The Marauders are back, huh?” You chuckled. Sirius slung his arm around your waist and chuckled. That grin, that beautiful grin of his. You were sure to do anything in your power to see it on him as a free man.

You were going to crush Peter Pettigrew, you were going to avenge your brother, Alice, Frank, Lily and James. You were going to protect your family, Harry.

“You scandalous beautiful Minx.” He chuckled.

“Get a room.” Remus complained.

“I actually know a room around here.” He smiled at Remus who threw him a dirty look, who remembered the many sleepless nights he had to endure during their school time.

“You’re a wanker, Padfoot.” Sirius clasped your hand in his and pushed Harry forward.

“The one and only.” As he followed Remus down the corridor. With Sirius and Harry beside you, you felt complete.

However broken and beaten you three were, you were family now.

[ferretandtheweasel]

Ginny:

What the heck was his problem? No seriously, Ginny Weasley wanted to know. Granted, she was in the wrong class (by mistake, mind you!) and she was just as embarrassed as anyone would have been in her situation but that hardly warranted the scornful look he had on his face upon seeing her. She wasn't exactly thrilled to be in Malfoy's company either, Merlin knew the memory of that day tortured her as much as it annoyed him but she didn't go around acting disdainful towards him. Okay sure, it had been a brief connection, eye to eye, steely grey met her own honey brown, but his look stung her in her chest for some reason, it was a look accusing her of being in the same room as him, as if she wanted that! Leaving potions class, after quickly making apologies before Snape could use her momentary blunder to take points off of Gryffindor, she tried to make sense of her dilemma.

So yeah, why was Malfoy being an utter twat, more than usual, you ask? Well, it all came down to that one fateful day when she was out with her class in the forbidden forest. Dumbledore had announced a compulsory program for year 4 and aboves, they were meant to form groups and with teachers' supervision, would have to spend 5 days learning camping skills. Apparently the ministry of magic thought that students had become too "lazy" and needed more outdoor activities. She didn't even know what Draco was doing there in the first place since his class was supposed to have their camping exercise later but who cares now. All she remembers is that somehow she'd walked right into him sitting near a lake reading a book. And before you ask, she was initially going to ignore him and walk back to the camp, because believe it or not she wasn't particularly interested in talking to him, plus she had wandered off a bit too far in her search for food, and she wanted to go back to her friends when he spotted her and made a rude comment.

Here's the thing you should know about Ginny Weasley, she had that infamous Weasley temper (which she's working on, come on now give a girl a break please), but yeah she can get exceptionally hot headed when she's hungry... and she was very hungry that day hunting for food, so she may have been particularly nasty towards him and may have said something about his upbringing. Listen, he was rude first, she just returned the favour. That kind of started their age old tradition of insulting each other and somehow she and Malfoy ended up in close proximity, somewhere during their shouting match. She doesn't really remember how but it's possible that she may have been the one to shove him first, in her defense, he had insulted her mother's annual Weasley jumpers so she had to do something. That is definitely how both she and him, ended up in the lake and here's the thing, she kinda doesn't recall much of what happened afterwards, because he did look like a snack alright. It's because his white shirt was wet and it was see through, so she had a moment of weakness, may her ancestors forgive her. So yeah, she may have looked at him a certain way, but he was at fault too, he was giving her looks that did things to her heart and elsewhere in her body, his cool silver locks fell over his molten grey eyes and she was sure her heart probably stopped beating at the sight. She can't explain it.

Merlin knew that moment is exactly where her mind was wandering off to, when today she had accidentally, walked into professor Snape's potion lecture when she was meant to be attending charms for year 6 in a different building! No no no, this would not do. Ginny would have to take control of her mind that kept wandering to that day- ugh! There it was again, she was trying NOT to think about it but somehow the memory of Draco's soft lips descending upon hers, his slender hands slowly making their way down her body, her arms pulling him closer and their tongues locking in a passionate embrace.... yeah, that memory won't leave her alone.

It... It felt like he'd done something to her, like that kiss had changed something fundamental in her, she couldn't look in the mirror without thinking of his kiss. She could still imagine it, picture it, taste it even if she closed her eyes long enough... It felt as though he had tattooed that kiss on her lips and it will never go away.

The point is, yeah, she had been affected by that sudden kiss, but she wasn't going around the school being grumpy and passing him dirty looks. She was feeling tortured inside but she was acting indifferent and trying her hardest to forget everything that had transpired between them because unlike a certain irritating man, she didn't want people to suspect anything. She was sure he was disgusted by their kiss, but could he act more mature about everything please? Because she was trying her hardest to ignore him but his constant remarks every time they crossed paths, his eyes which dug holes in her back and his scathing looks were making it very difficult for Ginny Weasley to forget what they'd done in forbidden forest.

Just last evening she was trying her hardest to concentrate on her homework in the library, she had to read each sentence several times to get it through her head, that's how much Malfoy's presence had started to affect her. As she was trying and failing to concentrate, a loud thud from the other table rang throughout the quiet room, making everyone snap their heads in his direction. Malfoy was grumpily packing his books to leave the the library, giving her a murderous look as if everything was her fault somehow he left. She wished things could go back to normal somehow, but what was normal for them, ignoring each other? Or going back at each others throats? It was all very confusing.

Draco:

Merlin! She was doing this on purpose wasn't she, "accidentally" walked into potions, yeah right! How was he supposed to forget the mistake they'd made if she kept showing up everywhere, looking like... that! What was wrong with him? She must have put some kind of spell on him to torment him. Yes, that made sense, because why else on Merlin's earth would he, Draco Malfoy, find her agreeable. It was worse, he found her more than agreeable, those damn red hair, they enchanted him how they flew with the wind as she rode her broom during a match or when they partially covered her face in the dining hall while she would talk to her friends, tempting him to abandon all common sense and run his fingers through them to tuck them behind her ears. Fascinating, how those silky strands danced on her button nose when she was working on her homework in the library until she ended up putting them in a messy bun, which made her look adora— Mental!

She looked mental, she was a weasel afterall. Draco was frustrated, he was tired and most importantly he was angry, how was it that one kiss, one moment of relapse in judgement on his part could change things between him and a nobody like her so much so that here he was, all rewired somehow sitting in potions thinking about her red hair!! Was this how it was going to be from now on, she would just walk into a room and just like that, all logical thoughts in his mind would go out of the window, he would be transported to that singular moment of his life when her honey brown eyes looked up at him right after their kiss, in surprise and... shock. When she had moved her fingers to touch her lips in astonishment, innocent brown eyes looking up to him in confusion, hesitation, wonder? and then they had heard Pansy calling out for him which had made them both snap back into reality. Within moments, they were out of the lake, unspoken agreement that whatever happened, didn't happen.

And now here he was days, weeks later trying his best to be the old Draco, except it seemed like he didn't know what in the name of Salazar he was supposed do in a situation like this? All he knew was that she was suddenly everywhere, in the dining hall, on school premises, in the quidditch training pitch but most importantly, on his mind! That was the worst place she had occupied, it made it impossible for him to function anywhere. She had ruined his peaceful quiet reading spot because he couldn't go there anymore without thinking back to what they did, without imagining 'what if' scenarios, what if Pansy hadn't come to looking for him? What if Ginny wasn't a Weasley, what if he wasn't a Malfoy? Merlin! His ancestors were all probably rolling in their graves right about now.

"Weasley's sure got a nice arse"

Crabbe's loud observation almost made him want to hex the guy but miraculously, at the last minute his self preservation skills kicked in and he was able to keep his cool. He wished Ron Weasley had heard it right now, he would not only shut them up but also provide quality entertainment while doing so. Seriously, if Merlin was about to put him through Crabbe and Goyle's disgusting comments about Ginny Weasley's arse then, he would have no other option but to jump from the astronomy tower maybe, because no way in hell was he going to sit here as Crabbe and Goyle discussed her. Besides, her arse was just okay, like it wasn't all that special or anything. It wasn't big or small, just the normal size... if he was forced to comment on it, he would say it was pert, well-shaped probably because of all the quidditch training she did, it was perfectly round and firm, and frankly speaking, made to fit right in his palms. It wasn't his attraction speaking, no, it was just an objective fact that her arse fits in his hands, he knew that because he'd had the chance to grab it when they had kissed that day. Of their own accord, His hands itched to do touch her again —

"Woah, relax mate, you're gonna break that thing."

Draco looked at where Blaise was pointing and realised he was about to snap the beaker full of potion, he relaxed his hands and exhaled a sigh he didn't know he had been holding. What was that bint doing to him, he was going insane. Zabini didn't press him on what was going on and he was grateful for that. Instead he read more instructions and kept on working on THEIR class project, something they were supposed to do together! Had Draco not been so out of focus lately he would have helped out, but as it happened, a certain foul-mouthed, red-haired, brown-eyed gryffindor was on his mind and everything in life was upside down.

~

When Draco and Ginny fall into a lake in the forbidden forest, it ends up in an unexpected event. One moment they're arguing, honouring their ancestral family rivalry... the next they're locked in a passionate embrace neither saw coming. What happens now? Where do they go from here? How the heck did it even happen? Merlin, help them.

[ingeniouscollectionthing]

If you were alive again… (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Part 1

Request: Any chance I could request something for Tom Riddle x Ghost! Reader? It starts off with Tom manipulating her for info and the Reader just liking being noticed, but then Tom falls for her and tries to find a way to bring them together. Could end in fluff or smut, whichever works best for you!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Hogwarts' astronomy tower was engulfed in the beautiful silver streams of light provided by a rich full moon, which hung high up in the night sky - pitch black, lightened up by countless glimmering stars.

A sole silhouette of a girl, no older than sixteen, could be found sitting on the railing, gazing into the seemingly never ending darkness. A crisp cold wind blew by, but she - or shall one say - You couldn't be bothered. You couldn't feel it - for you were dead.

A mere shadow of what you once have been, a young and talented student who has walked along the many corridors of this very school a long time ago. Once you have been a proud member of house Slytherin, younger sister of the famous Gellert Grindelwald - the very same who transported you into the unloving hell of the living dead for the sake of power, although you always supported him in everything he did.

He was an ungreatful, despicable, pathetic bastard, taking for granted what laid right in front of his eyes. And when he finally rose to power he lost sight of the things dearest to him - fighting his very best partner Dumbledore and killing you in a fit of rage.

Merlin forsake these Deathly Hallows, which brought out the worst in all wizards and witches who tried to conquer them.

Footsteps sounded behind, but you didn't need to turn around to know who visited at this hour.

Tom was his name, a handsome boy dare you say, quite charming and intelligent. He has been visiting you for a few weeks now, engaging you in deep conversations about anything. More than often you talked about your brother, realizing soon that this boy resembled him in more ways than one. Tom himself had ambitions about making magical beings the superior race, killing all those unworthy of using witchcraft. And as you did with your brother, you also shared his oppinion.

"Good evening, Lady Grindelwald", Tom said, now standing by your side, hands behind his back.

"Tom, my dear, what brings you here tonight?" you questioned, turning to look at him.

"I just wanted to see you. How are you feeling today?"

You looked back out into the night sky, smiling slightly, as you quite liked the attention you recieved by him.

"Alright, I believe. I've been reminiscing about the days where I didn't feel as numb as I do today".

A pang of guilt hit Tom in the chest, making him furrow his brows in confusion. He was so close to getting the information about the famous elder wand he so eagerly wanted, as it was lastly known as the wand of your brother. With the stone of resurrection, currently possessed by his very own uncle, whom he wanted to kill within the next few days, along with his grandfather, he'd gain umimaginable power.

He didn't know why he felt that way as he looked at your emotionless expression, you were useless to him in any way. He couldn't define, why he almost felt eager to come visit you every night.

'I'm sure it's because I'm so close to my goal', Tom thought - at least that's what he tried to tell himself. Tom never felt this way. To be fair, he didn't think he could. But still he found himself loving the hours he had with you, he loved your presence.

All he said was,

"I understand how you must feel. I too haven't felt anything remotely close to emotion since the day I have been left at the doorstep of that despicable orphanage". Lies.

For the thirst time ever, Tom showed sympathy. He almost gagged at his behaviour.

"I still can't believe I'm the only one you ever told the story about your life. I can imagine that you must have quite many friends, Mr. Popular", you laughed for the first time in years, a slight twinkle awakened in your eyes.

Tom didn't notice. Lies.

He wondered what colour your eyes were, for colour was nowhere to be found in your ghostly appearance. He wondered if they would shine in a bright blue or in a beautiful earthy brown. Or maybe they were a glimmering gemstone green.

If you were alive again..

Tom dismissed this thought. He didn't care about this, about you. He couldn't, he didn't want to. All he wanted was the missing information.

So he just shrugged his shoulders and replied,

"You're the only one I trust enough to know about this".

You sighed, the smile on your lips vanishing again. You loved being near him, but you knew deep down, that in reality - he wasn't here for you. Lies.

His next question confirmed your suspicions.

"Do you still remeber what we talked about yesterday?", Tom asked, now leaning next to you on the railing.

"The way Dumbledore is following your every move or the elder wand?", you mumbled, knowing where this would go.

"The second one would be correct, Miss Grindelwald. As i recall correctly, you said that your brother took it with him to Nurmengard".

"Tom", you sighed, now floating away from the railing to the opposite side of the tower. "I already told you that it would do you no good to infatuate yourself with this topic. You'd fulfill your dreams without it"

"(Y/N), you know I wouldn't use it, I promised you. I promised to destroy the very thing that is responsible for your death", Tom replied, again haunted by guilt. Lies again.

He has been trying to get this information out of you for quite some time now, but you never said a word. However you started to rethink your desicion, after all you thought you could trust him.. or could you? He was persuasive.

That you liked Tom was an understatement. You fell for him. How could you not? He was perfect in every way, he was powerful and he seemed proud in what he was doing. But would you really want him to become the very same thing your brother became? A power hungry monster? Would you be ready to witness, as another one of your loved ones got stuck in insanity?

You went back and forth in your conversation, him preassuring you and you reluctantly telling him more about what he wanted to know.

Finally you gave in, telling him about everything your brother gathered of knowledge about the deathly hallows. And how the elder wand was in fact in Dumbledore's possession, for it changed it's loyalty to the person, who overpowered the owner.

"So all this time it's been right before my eyes", Tom mumbled, tapping his nose. "Of course Dumbledore would have it". He got annoyed.

You cleared your throat, for you heard exactly what he said and as he turned to look at you, his heart, which he believed to be made from stone, missed a beat.

You were a true haunting beauty. Your face and body posture held a certain grace, drawing him in.

If you were alive again...

What if? Yes, what if you were alive again? Could you be his?

And his next question threw both of you off guard, for it was an action of instinct neither of you expected. It was an action of...could you call it love?

"Do you miss being alive? Do you ever miss being human?", Tom asked silently.

This was out of character for him, he never cared. Or did he now? Caring was a weak term for these unknown emotions inside him. Is this what people call love? Is he loving?

He watched you closely, as your eyes lost every twinkle. He felt bad again. He watched you, as your eyes dropped to the floor, as a small white thread of tears dribbled slowly down your silver cheek. He felt worse now.

Tom took a step near you.

"It would be my hearts deepest desire...to get back what has been taken from me so very early...", you whispered.

You looked at him again, a small sad smile gracing your lips. You shook your head.

"What if? Yes, what if you were alive again?". There was an edge of desperation to his voice now. For the first time ever, Tom Riddle's heart felt something. It beat in his throat. It felt pain, desire, angst and love all at once.

Another question out of instinct, maybe, dare I say it, out of love.

"Could you be mine then?"

And then you vanished.

What if? Yes, what if you were alive again? Could you be his?

[ardentmuse]

Rogue Choices - Prologue (Kingsman x Reader)

Kingsman - Harry Hart x reader, Eggsy Unwin x Reader, Merlin (Hamish) x Reader  (you decide!)

Summary: As a new agent, Arthur gives you your last big assignment before you are approved to run missions on your own, only this time you get to pick your partner. And who says you can’t mix business and pleasure.

Wordcount: 5.8k (and this is just the intro!)

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, talk of violence

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

(Note: I started this a long time ago but had to pause because Twine was doing weird things. It’s meant as a fully interactive piece, but I think we can make it work here on tumblr and AO3 with different chapter links. So I’m putting it out into the world to see if you all like it!)

PROLOGUE

Two strong raps on the door grant you a gentle, “Come in.”

As you turn the handle and enter, the smell of old books and polished wood fills your nostrils. Arthur’s office is a proper executive space. Shelves are lined with old tombs that must have been passed down for generations. The rich, plush Persian rug is worm upon the edges from years of use, but still draws the eye with its vibrant reds and subtle blues. Two large and striking leather wingbacks rest before a sturdy walnut desk, at which sits a patient Arthur, who doesn’t even bother to lift his gaze from the files before him as he hears you enter.

“Agent Kay, please take a seat.”

You do as you are bid, leaning back into the worn leather to take in the countenance of you boss. He seems tired, the grey hair of his eyebrows coming together as he squints at the documents before him. But even with the slight bags under his eyes, he is still the image of a proper gentleman. His collar is expertly pressed and his turtle shell glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose, just as you imagine Churchill’s might have.

After a few moments, he shuffles the papers aside and levels his eyes with yours.

“It seems you received the memo that I needed to see you?”

You laugh, “Your assistant nearly tackled me as I left lunch.”

“Eager kid, that one. He’ll make a good agent someday, too,” he muses, and then with a wry smile adds, “Much like you.”

“I’m already an agent, Arthur.”

“But mayhaps a good one given time,” he says, his eyebrows rising ever so slightly in challenge.

You haven’t been a secret agent long, having earned the title only a few months prior. The selection process to join the Kingsman was grueling to say the least, but you had been Arthur’s hand picked candidate. Only upon your recruitment did you understand just how much Arthur, a second father to you in so many ways, had primed you from your youth for this very role you doesn’t even know existed.

But nothing, not even Arthur, could have prepared you for the stress of being a Kingsman agent out in the field. Taking down the world’s most harrowing criminals, dismantling sex trafficking rings and stopping terrorist attacks takes a toll on the mind and body. Death is constantly right beside you, a single word or a single misstep enough to reveal your identity and get you killed. The work of Kingsman is highly classified, incredibly dangerous, and outside the bounds of traditional justice. You are a ghost, a guardian angel just outside the realm of men, leaving only vague notions of what could have been: a newspaper headline, a five o’clock story on Radio 4, a traffic jam or a flight delay. Ignorance is bliss as they say, but you now know the dark underbelly, the secret of which is the source of bliss for so many.

You sigh and hold your hand against your thigh to stop yourself from fidgeting. The shoulders on your suit, the well-fitted tweed of our Kingsman uniform, seem to tighten as Arthur continues to stare at you, waiting for your protest.

“What are you getting at?”

Arthur laughs as he pivots in his chair and presses on the spine of a book behind his desk. Instantly, the two shelves pull forward and slide to the sides, revealing an entire wall of flat screens and holograms projecting outward. You can’t make out all the details but the lower corner contains a building schematic and the top right shows the animated, scowling face of whom you can only assume is your organization’s latest target.

“Andrej Jankovic. Former Russian operative now based in Cyprus, leading what we’ve learned is the largest money laundering ring in the world. We’ve been tracking him for months, but,” he stops talking to focus on the movement of his fingers, swiping away spreadsheets to pull up live surveillance footage of the target, “As you can see, he covers his tracks very well.”

You watch on the screen as the man sips coffee in a small café. Four different cell phones lay out before him, concealed under the newspaper through which he flips lazily as he takes in the sea just outside the window. He is younger than you expect for such high crimes, with not a wrinkle in sight upon his face. His dark hair is long and flung haphazardly to one side but his facial hair in contrast is shaven with precision, just outlining his harsh jawline. He is striking in that brooding sort of way, long Roman nose and chiseled muscles. You might consider him handsome in a different life where your mind isn’t trained to notice the harshness of his brow or how quickly his eyes narrow with disdain each time someone new enters his vision.

“He is certainly… something,”

“Killed three people just yesterday for using checks,” Arthur throws your way as if that is something to marvel.

You swallow, still not comfortable with just how common death is in your new line of work.

“He’s ruthless and calculating, incredibly thorough and uncommonly intelligent. We’re never going to catch him with paper trails alone. There won’t be any. And simply taking him out leaves the whole rest of the corrupt network up and running. We need names.” Arthur swivels in his chair so he is facing you once again, resting his elbows upon the wood of his desk with a thud. “And I think you can get them.”

“Wait, really? You’re trusting me with this?”

You feel your jaw go slack. Biggest money launderer in the world, and Arthur thinks you can handle it? These past few months have felt like a probationary period, working alongside other agents, cleaning up their messes and assisting in communications and research. Your field time has been limited to sitting in corners of crowded rooms, observing more senior agents doing the hard work.

Arthur raps his fingers against the stack of papers before him.

“I think he’ll take kindly to you. If our intelligence is correct, he’ll be most susceptible to your…”

“Charm?” you insert.

“At least more than that of any other agent,” Arthur confirms. “Now don’t misunderstand me. It is not my intention to send you out alone. You will need a partner. Consider this your last test before I set you loose, Kay.”

Arthur picks up papers before him, writes quickly on a post-it that he places on the top of the stack, and then thrusts his arms forward to you.

“You have until tomorrow night to select a partner and review this research material. The jet leaves Friday.”

He doesn’t have to dismiss you with words. The way he pivots his body back to the screens behind him is signal enough that your questions will only be addressed after you thoroughly review the case.

And so you stand and make your way back into the labyrinth of the Kingsman manor to begin to wrap your mind around your new mission.

Just as the door closes behind you, a voice calls almost directly into your ear.

“Our mighty leading givin’ you a hard time, there, newbie?”

With a shocked puff of breath, you pivot on your heels to see the broad chest and shoulders of Eggsy just inches from your face. He is reclining casually against the doorframe, his arms crossing over his chest matching the cross of his ankles, all casual and cool. The cheeky grin upon his face, showing you those pristinely white teeth, lets you know your startled response is exactly what he was hoping to see.

“You’re never as alone as you think you are, my love,” he purrs with a rub of his palm into your shoulder, stilling the jump of your body at his appearance. “Rule number one of this spy gig.”

His deft hands make calculated movement against your collarbone, each brush bringing just the tip of his fingers against your pulse point, as though trying to discreetly test how much his proximity is impacting you. Your body goes stiff at the sensation, not in fear or discomfort, but in confusion. Eggsy smiles that disarming smile of his. He leans forward, his mouth finding a place beside your ear.

“You know, I think I still have quite a bit to teach you.”

The feel of his breath combined with the gentle graze of his nails against your throat make your breath hitch, goosebumps running down your chest. You hate how clear your responses are to these sorts of flirtations and so you divert your gaze to the place where the tips of his oxfords are pressed against your shoes.

At your lack of response, Eggsy drums his fingers across your shoulder, tickling you. You laugh and pull back slightly, enough to actually take in his features: his jaw, sharp and square and his skin kissed with just a tint of sun, his blue eyes glowing with humor behind his glasses. And with that last realization, you sigh. He is right. You are never as alone as you think, especially at Kingsman, with those silly glasses recording almost every interaction for Merlin or whomever to review at their convenience.

“You know, it seems everyone thinks I still have much to learn.”

Eggsy gives you a quick slap on the back, pulling his body fully from yours.

“That’s what big boss man is on you about?” he says as he begins walking down the hall, leading you out of the offices spaces and back towards the communal agent quarters. “Ill-timed joke, then. My bad, love.”

As you turn the corner into the grand stairway, you notice the chasm between your bodies. Eggsy is two steps in front and his feet light, tossing a look back towards you as he continues his talking, as if he wasn’t just holding his body only inches for your own, running his calloused fingers across the sensitive flesh of your neck and raising your blood pressure, not just giving you dazzling smiles and teasing your earlobes with his hushed breaths. That is Eggsy, flirtation and friendship, on and off, hot and cold, and always just enough honesty in his eyes in those moments to make you question which is the act.

After a long walk through parlors and the kitchens, laughing about your dogs and the antics that came out of the latest team meeting, you find yourself standing in front of the control room with the majority of your tension about your mission lost somewhere in the depths of your brain.

“Now this is where I leave you,” Eggsy says.

You turn with a huff to your friend.

“Why didn’t you tell me Merlin sent you to find me?”

The corner of Eggsy’s mouth turned upward in that too-seductive half-smile he had perfected somewhere between you first meeting him and right now,

“You’re much more fun when you aren’t stressing about work.” His eyes scanned from your body, slow and intentional, until his gaze came to rest on your lips, now just slightly parted from his clearly heated evaluation. He smiled at your response. “Much more fun.”

You shake your head at him, always the tease.

“You really believe I would have had you laughing after Arthur had you down if your mind had also been churning on what Mr. Stoic McSeriousface wanted with you?”

You pout. Eggsy knows of your friendship with Merlin, the tech head for your organization. You know he is just trying to get a stir out of you.

But before you can answer, Eggsy moves forward. You step back and find the door pressing against your back.

“You’re going to be the death of me with that pout, you know.”

After a silent beat between you, the air growing thicker as you stare each other down, Eggsy leans forward, raising his hand the way he sometimes does to brush stray hairs from your face. But instead, his hand moves beyond your shoulder, making contact with the wood of the door. He knocks hard and heavy.

“Enjoy being bored to death, peaches,” he whispers to you before slinking down the hall.

Eggsy turns the corner just as Merlin opens the door to his workspace. You take note of his expression as he looks down the hall. It really is stoic, but when his face sets upon you, it immediately changes into something soft and inviting, encouraging even.

“Kay, glad you’re here.” He opens the door a little wider and then continues, “Come in.”  

“Good afternoon, Merlin,” you say as you move into the tech space, Merlin following closely behind.

You throw yourself down on the vintage Eames lounge chair that sits in the corner of the room, placing your stack of papers on the floor as you allow yourself the joy of reclining deeply into the headrest.

Merlin pats the footrest as he passes by, inviting you to relax. He moves towards his desk, computer, and all the hundreds of gadgets that are organized upon the shelves beside.

“So, what do you have for me?” you ask as you follow through on Merlin’s request to fully recline yourself. “Details on Jankovic?”

“Yes, and no,” he says, not meeting your eyes. He takes a seat and begins typing away.

The rhythmic ping of keys give you a moment to truly observe the man before you. Merlin is a striking, almost imposing, figure in appearance. He is tall and lithe, in complete control of each moment, in a way that conveyed a refined elegance to some and a rigid intent to others. His face is a masculine stone, like a sculpture of a Roman general, piercing in its seriousness. But he brings life to the features that you love: soft hazel eyes, busy dexterous hands, and a smooth Scottish accent that makes even the sweetest words from his mouth sound husky.

After a moment, he continues on, “Jankovic has a well-trained team and multi-layered cyber systems. His security, virtual and physical, is nearly impenetrable. I do believe I have found a few exploitable flaws, almost all of which require work on the ground to hijack. If we don’t go that route, I have managed to mirror the controls for the security system at the hotel he owns in Limassol, so I will be able to be of assistance once you land.”

You stand and move beside his desk. He has months of logs, meticulously organized and color-coded and tabulated, certain sections highlighted in red, denoting times of lower security or routine system upgrades. His work, just like him, is precise and detailed.

You lean down over his shoulder to take in the schematic of the hotel, several floors of suites and an entire rooftop entertaining space. Your mind conjures images of the ocean and soft sand beaches that are visible just below, the salt air and the setting sun filling your slowly numbing senses as you sip on your second cocktail and a stunningly handsome man runs his hands down your spine to the soft of your back.

But the strong scent of cedarwood and bergamot that you know to be Merlin bring you back to the present. Or maybe it aids in the fantasy.  When he reaches over to rest his hand on your back, pushing you forward slightly to watch the tiny dots he is pointing at with his other hand, you know where your mind got those ideas in the first place.

“I’ve discovered some patterns here that I think we can exploit, unless of course you decide making your presence known to the target is a better option.”

His fingers never leave your back as he speaks.

“Stealth or charisma,” you muse, “Just like a video game.”

“If so, your video games are quite limited,” he laughs. His fingers slide across your back as he rolls his chair to the other side of the room. You feel the absence most acutely.

“I’d hope there’d at least be some intelligence or combat in these skill trees of yours.”

His fingers run over the lock in the shelving. You hear a click and then the draw opens to reveal a pristine case containing three weapons you have yet to see, each encased in foam and glass like priceless works of art.

“Perhaps some lock-picking?” he turns and offered you a smile.

“I’ve definitely maxed out my luck, at least,” you say with a tilt to the draw of weapons, each more beautiful than the next.

“And enchantment, if I may be so bold,” his words are to the drawer of weapons and not your face, but your mind fills in his devastating lip bite and the thought has you melting and feeling the shyness creep over you.

The silence hangs between you two as Merlin flicks the lock on each case.

Finally with a deep breath, he says, “My latest prototypes. You’ll need all the protection you can get on this one, Kay, so take your pick.”

“Can’t I take all of them?”

Merlin turns and shots you a look so deadly, you feel the air leave your lungs.

“And risk you losing all my hard work? Never.”

His eyes are piercing yours, wearing you down, but you try your best to hold your ground.

“I’m quite trustworthy, Hamish,” you say with a gentle bit of your lip.

“First names, now? You jest, my dear,” he says with a narrowing of his eyes that let you know he likes the words more than he wants to admit. “Now pick.”

You feel the weight of the weapon in your hand, bouncing it a little to get comfortable.

“This one. I like this one,” you say finally.

Merlin shuts the drawers and turns to you. “And it likes you, too, Kay. Very fitting.”

You can’t help but smile at his praise. Eggsy is wrong, you know. Merlin isn’t so much serious as he is careful about his work.  You enjoy the lightness he shares with you, even if it is intercut with professional talk.

“Thank you, Merlin,” you say as you holster the weapon and grab your papers.

“You’re welcome.” Merlin’s head already back in his computer and typing away.

As you reach for the door, he calls you once more.

“And Kay?”

You turn to offer him your full attention and are struck by how serious he looks, the hard lines of his face all completely turned to you and his chin dipped in a soft reverence that you hope is reserved for you alone. His voice takes on that husky quality as he breathes out the next words.

“I know you’re a little overwhelmed right now, but you are among us for a reason. You’re a capable agent, Kay. Please don’t forget that.”

For a man who often shrugs off sentimentality, he manages to find just the right words to build you up and make you smile. You feel a tiny wave of pleasure course through you, easing a bit of the weight from your shoulders.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. With a curt nod, the sweetness of the moment lost, he returns his eyes to the screens beside him.

You sit in the study, the fire roaring beside you, as you pour through each meticulous document that Arthur gave you. Just skimming these papers alone is going to take you all the way to your flight and then some, and that doesn’t include the time you need to devise a plan, select a partner, and prep for execution. But none of those other things can happen until you wrap your mind fully around your mission. And if that means sitting here well into the morning, transcribing and memorizing and organizing, then that is what you are going to do.

You hear the clink of porcelain upon the table beside you. A mug of tea is now perched among your discarded notes, the steam cloud in the lamplight.

“Thought a pick-me-up might be in order,” Harry, your mentor and fellow agent, says above you as he moves to the other side of the room, carrying his own mug and his own papers, though his take the form of the news, several morning editions stacked together, a few in languages in which you weren’t aware Harry had proficiency.

With the flick of his wrists, Harry opens the top paper, but unlike his usual routine of reading through the headlines and major political scandals, Harry turns towards the back, folds the paper in half, and pulls out a pen from his jacket pocket.

You take a long sip of the tea he provided you, and are pleased to discover it isn’t his usual nighttime blend but a proper English brew, one that will provide you enough caffeine to get your through this work. If Harry is anything, it certainly is thoughtful.

You work in silence for fifteen minutes or so, Harry’s long legs elegantly crossed as he relaxes himself against the couch. He drums the end of the pen upon the tuffs of the Chesterfield. You can’t help but think about how, in the past six months, you had already fallen into a pleasant routine with these men you called your colleagues. Lunch with Eggsy, briefings and shooting practice with Merlin, and long nights, just like tonight, sitting beside Harry and working in companionable silence. With Harry, words are rarely needed. He is a man whose company creates an aura of calm that penetrates even the most intense of moments. The few missions on which you have accompanied him were smooth, efficient endeavors; they left you feeling confident and poised even by comparison to arguably the most poised man you have ever met.

“Attractive, eight letters, third letter is most likely a ‘g’,” Harry asks into the air.

You lift your head from a giant list of innocuously named shell corporations to consider his question.

Engaging? Magnetic?

“Hmmm,” he muses, scribbling upon the paper, “Thank you, darling.”

You only get a few more minutes of silence before he is piping up again.

“Unstable, six letters, last letter ‘y’.”

Wobbly? Flimsy? Shifty?

“Perfect,” Harry whispers over his swift pen strokes. The roar of the fire by now was dying down, the pleasant crackle of embers scenting the room in hickory and smoke. You find yourself fighting the exhaustion that is coming over your body at the sheer comfort of your company and the ambiance the room provides.

Not thirty seconds pass by before Harry is calling your way once more.

“To proceed, four let-“

“Harry, are you trying to distract me from my work or is this crossword collaborative?”

Harry folds the paper shut and places it firm upon his lap. His eyes shift upward slowly, from your feet to your eyes, pausing upon the stack of papers spread out around you on all sides before he finds his way to your face. Harry’s lips curl into a soft smile, one that is made all the more precious by the way the fire’s reflection upon his face. He rubs at the bridge of his nose as he debates his words.

“I wouldn’t call it distracting as much as helping,” he finally decides, picking up the paper as he takes soft steps towards you.

Soft, that is the best word to describe Harry. Gentleness and patience and softness are what you associated with him most. Sure, you have seen his skills, watched him turn into a ruthless hit-man as the situation called for it, powerful and strong and confident. But the instant the bodies laid still before you, Harry’s steps grew light again. As he reached out his hand in serenity, kindly lifting you to your feet, brushing debris from your hair and asking in a whisper if you are safe.

“I’m not so sure how not doing my work is going to help me do my work,” you say as Harry pulls the footstool out beside you to sit. His back is perfectly straight despite the lack of support and you wonder if you body would ever be trained with the same precision as the seasoned agents you so admire.

“You’re thinking too much,” he says. He sits the newspaper down on top of your papers, covering up all your notes and drawing your focus to the absence of notes on his actual page. Nothing exists in the boxes, only in the margins and you notice how peculiar it appears.

“See, darling, this is you right now, taking each individual note and trying to assess it alone. If I went bullet by bullet through this crossword puzzle trying to figure out what it meant by every single word clue or question mark, I would have half the puzzle wrong.”

Harry is leaning over the newspaper now, his head awfully close to your own. The fluff of his brown curls are brushing lightly against your forehead. Despite the tickling, you don’t pull away.

Harry’s voice is low, requiring you to lean in. He wants this proximity. For what purpose, you don’t let you mind assume.

“Some clues like this one,” he says, pointing to 20-across ‘Author Silverstein,’ “Are easy to solve without context.” His hand moves to write the first bit within the puzzle: ‘shel.’

“But others,” he moves his pen to point at 4-down, ‘To proceed,’ and the three words he has written beside it: sail, toil, and till. Somehow his brain did the puzzling work of realizing long ago that the ‘l’ in ‘shel’ was the necessary fourth letter. “ Others require much more context.”

“And even still, some may seem to require context,” he says, pointing to the clue, ‘display of glee,’ which had nothing scribbled beside, “But actually require none at all, just experience and foresight.” And with that note, he moves quickly to the tiny space to which the clue corresponds and without checking anything else, writes ‘jig’ in large, bold, capital letters.

“Now how do you—“ you went to protest, but Harry interrupted you.

“Because it’s always jig. I know it could be ‘hah’ or ‘lol’ but it isn’t. It is always jig. There aren’t many other ways to get ‘j’s into the puzzle. Do a few crosswords and you don’t even have to finish reading the clue. That and emu. And Nave. V’s are tricky buggers, too.”

You sigh, “But I don’t have the experience to see the ‘j’ and the ‘v’ in our spy work yet. I just see the Silversteins and the capitals of France and the 2017 Best Picture winner.”

Harry’s hand reaches out to rub against your knuckles, comforting and supportive, “But, darling, you do. Every puzzle has a theme. Every target has his preferences. Find what is distinctive, what is rare. Trust your gut to see what doesn’t fit, what needs to be there because it can’t exist any other way. “

Harry lifts up the newspaper, revealing your workspace once again. He links his fingers with yours as he allows his free hand to run along the stack of papers before you.

“Scan,” he says, slow and emphatically. He lifts the stack like a book and flicks, one page each second with a satisfying click and swipe.

The first few pages go by with a blur. By the tenth, you are pulling out only a handful of words, though those words seem to make a story anyway: Ancoria, Konstantinos, $9,999, Ltd.

“Stop!” you say upon the sixtieth page or so. Harry’s hand grips yours a little tighter, sending a warm jolt down your spine. You see him smile out of the corner of your eyes at your apparent discovery.

“What do you see?” he asks, his shoulder brushing yours as he leans in. The rough wool of his jacket brushing against your bare arm is a pleasant contrast to the smooth skin of his palm that still pressed firmly into your own.

You use your free hand to point to the third transaction line.

“All the previous shell companies had Greece mythology names. Scylla, Nyx, Calliope. But this one is Roman: Decima. At least I think it is,” you bit your lip a little realizing this may be a stupid thing to call out, “But even if it isn’t, it doesn’t seem right. This also seems to be the only shell company for which we have names of the board of directors.”

Harry takes his pen and circles Decima with three big spins. He underlines each of the names listed on the board below and pulls the paper out of the stack and up to the top.

He draws his hands away from yours to close the pen and collect your stack together once more. He plops the newly assembled stack before you and makes to leave you. But as he stands with one knee against the footrest upon which he had been sitting, he hovers his body over you, his proximity doing little to help with the already intense heat of your skin from the fire. He leans forward and grazes his lips gently upon your forehead. As he pulls away, his hand finds your chin and he meets your gaze.

“That’s my girl,” he says with a smile before turning and walking swiftly out of the room, his newspaper abandoned to your pile.

With a renewed vigor, you dive deep into the papers, determined to see the odd inconsistencies that might provide context for the more common practices. As you continue to sip on your tea, you notice the cup had refilled and rewarmed itself. You never heard Harry enter the room at all.

The following morning, you wake with the sun. Little sleep had happened in the past day but you feel refreshed regardless. The long hours you had put in the night before resulted in quite a bit of relevant information and three distinct methods for tackling Jankovic, each with its merits and its challenges. But you are feeling confident for your meeting with Arthur, at least you were last night. This morning, you need to eat your breakfast and review your notes before providing your supervisor with your planned course of action.

You lift yourself from the plush comfort of your bed, the biggest benefit of spending the night at the manor, and walk towards your desk, which now is a much more organized collection of research: three distinct piles with three hand-written mission plans upon each.

You pull the blanket along with you, cocooning yourself as you sit at the desk and review your plans.

The first is a traditional approach: the honey-pot. In Andrej’s personal history, he has displayed a clear preference for your physical features. And even more, he has had no steady partners, just a series of lovers, all of whom were affiliated with other men simultaneously. In your time at Kingsman, it had already become clear that the type of people you took down got enjoyment out of breaking more than just the law.

Eggsy is the perfect partner for this plan. His flirtatious personality and social skills mean he can easily convince a group of people that you are a couple. With the gala at the hotel on Saturday, all it would take is a little skin and some well-placed winks on your end for Andrej to want to tempt you away from your handsome partner. And while you entertain Andrej’s attentions, Eggsy would be open to sneak into the depths of Andrej’s personal estate and gather what information was needed to take him down. Sure, this plan puts you right in the belly of the beast and therefore in the most direct line of danger, but it also gives you the best chance to adapt to new information and go with the flow.

The second plan is significantly less risky but requires more planning. A covert invasion of his security detail and hijacking of his automated banking systems would provide you all the information you needed to tear down the entire network. With Merlin’s mirror, you could cut down power to the hotel, sneak into the basement offices undetected, and bug and download what you needed. With Merlin, this plan could be flawless, with you using your combat background to take down the guards and his tech skills ensuring a full system overhaul without a trace. You would still need to get into the hotel, and the gala would work as a good cover, but unlike the honeypot, your goal would be to blend in as much as possible. It may not be the most glamourous plan, but it would certainly be the most efficient, and not to mention the most intimate, sneaking through darkened corridors and keeping as close as possible to avoid detection.

And finally the third plan would require approaching Jankovic directly, posing as British investors seeking to hide funds overseas, hoping to utilize Jankovic’s existing network to hide quite a bit of money quickly. And you’d be willing to pay for the services. You need credentials, as Andrej is a skeptical man, but he is also not the type of man who can pass up a quick cash opportunity. You could approach him at the gala, enquire about his services, and find out much from the horse’s mouth, supplementing what he tells you with the information would be able to mirror from his phones once you had him in the room with you. And in this, Harry could truly sign. A master of the art of blending in among the oddest of crowds, Harry could easily pose as the financial head of your organization, partners in crime in the truest sense. You wouldn’t have to steal anything in this plan. Andrej would give it freely, though it would require near perfect coordination between you and Harry.

As you add notes to the margins of your stacks, you look over at the post-it Arthur left on your files yesterday: Regroup noon, tomorrow. If you don’t leave now, you will be late. You throw on yesterday’s suit, scoop up what papers you need and rush to Arthur’s office.

The door is open when you arrive and Arthur is seated upon one of his couches, cutting into a perfectly roasted chicken breast as he beckons you forward.

“Discover anything useful?” he says after a swallow. He lifts his cloth napkin to his lips and waves out the door behind you. Pushing past you, his assistant cruises inside and grabs his plate with a nod before leaving.

Arthur waves a hand to the seat in front of him. You take your sit and go to speak, but before you can say a word, Arthur lifts a finger.

“Before you run me through the details, whom should I request be joining us for this briefing?”

“Um…”

And that’s a wrap for the prologue! Please let me know in the comments which route you’d like to me to work on first. :) 

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa​, @thisisbullshytt​,  @cancerousjojian​, @whovianayesha​, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy​, @luna-xxxxx​, @sleepylunarwolf​, @starryrevelations​, @potter-thinking​, @all-by-myself98​, @bananafosters-and-books​, @cutie-bug​, @igotmadskills​, @hazelandcoconuts​, @yallgotkik​, @amberkay284​, @the-new-galahad, @13ofjuly​, @daft-not-punk​

Kingsman tags: @allonsymexgirl​, @eiensteiner, @thecaptainsgingersnap​, @madamcadaver. @doct0rstrange​, @ratwrites​, @kaeleabres, @nellietara, @ediblemurderer​, @allofthekingsmen

Harry Hart tags: @un-education​, @lexicon04​, @bananzaa​, @consultingdoctorwholock​, @sparrowharkness​, @newconnorwhodis

Merlin tags: @consultingdoctorwholock​, @sparrowharkness​

[dreamlanddoll]

The Isle of Mermaids

Sofia takes Cedric with her on a quest in the Mystic Isles for the first time. The sorcerer is absolutely riveted with excitement, but upon arriving at a certain isle, he receives an unexpected amount of attention he did not prepare for.

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

“So, are you excited, Mr. Cedric?” 

If it wasn’t already hint enough by how Cedric had been endlessly smiling and bouncing on his heels as he and the princess walked out onto the front steps of the castle, there wasn’t much else he could do but tell her. This was the first time Cedric had ever gotten the privilege of going to the Mystic Isles, and as the magic-loving enthusiast he was, Cedric was ecstatic. 

“Oh, Princess I am more than excited. I’m absolutely riveted!” The sorcerer exclaimed, clasping his hands together and beaming at the thought of getting to explore that glorious manor of magic. “I can’t wait to see all those mystical sights!” He twirled. This was the most excitable and dreamy Sofia has ever seen Cedric act before. It was quite an endearing and humorous thing to witness. The only time that came close that she can recall was when she took him and Calista to see Merlin. 

Cedric went on. “The Isle of fairies, the Isle of Sorcerer’s and OH The Cove of Crystals~!” He rambled on about all the places he was dying to visit, hardly being able to contain his joy. 

Sofia giggled. “Well I’m happy you’re so excited, becauuuseeee-” she drawled, hopping down the stairs and landing in front of the carriage to take them there. Which had no flying horse or coachmen in sight, but instead gave off a reassuring glow, signaling that it was very much enchanted.  “we’re gonna do more than just sight see.” 

Cedric halted beside the carriage beside her looked down at his princess, confused by this new information. “Whatever do you mean?”

Sofia smiled sheepishly. “Welllll I do have a small job I need to do. But it’s okay! That’s why I thought it’d be okay for you to come this time since we’ll have lots of time to sight see. I promise.” The princess explained as Cedric opened the door for her. She hopped inside with him following behind. 

“I trust you, princess. But, just one question.”

Sofia blinked. 

“Don’t you usually take your flying pegasus to the isles?” He asked as the carriage took off.

Sofia groaned, shrugging into herself in embarrassment. “Mom wanted me to start taking the enchanted carriage because she thought it’d be safer than me gallivanting around on a flying pesagus without a saddle and helmet like I do with Minimus.” She explained shamefully, resting her head in her arms on the window. Looking quite glum with this new found restriction on something meant to be an adventure. No doubt if Chrysta saw her riding into HQ on this, she’d never let her live it down.

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

The coach came to a steady sore as it tilted down to land at the entrance to the Isles, prompting both Sofia and Cedric to climb out of the side door of the coach. Immediately, Cedric gasped in amazement the second he and Sofia stepped onto the cloudy surface of the land. His eyes lighting up at all the beautiful blue and purple mist and clouds surrounding them, the energy of never ending magic all around them, the frolicking fae and witches and centaurs around every corner and on every isle. It was all so wonderful and breathtaking, there was not a single place his eyes could stay focused on for more than three seconds because of all that was happening before him. 

“Welp, here we are!” Sofia gestured, allowing Cedric a moment to take in the grandness of the place they were in. She stepped up beside him, placing her hands on her hips. “Whadayya think?”

Cedric’s eyes didn’t cease their wondrous gazing and his huge, dorky smile never faltered. The majesty before them was almost too much joy and brilliance for him to handle. “This is.. the most incredible place I’ve ever seen!” He said as his voice got high in pitch with excitement. He looked up to see a circle of pixies flutter gently down to the crown of his head, placing a multi-coloured flower crown of all different beautiful shades of blues, purples, pinks and yellows on his head.

“Oh, um, th-thank you!” He addressed the fae folk, gingerly touching the grown they graced him with and waving them goodbye as they flew off. They all waved to him as well before giggling and diapering into the clouds. 

The second the pixies left, a familiar voice came up behind Sofia, causing her and Cedric to startle and turn around. 

“Hey Sofia!” Chrysta flew in, a friendly smile on her face at seeing her favourite princess. “This your friend you brought with ya?” She nodded at Cedric.

“Uh huh.” Sofia affirmed with a nod, gesturing to proudly present her royal sorcerer and mentor. “Chrysta, meet Cedric the Sensational.” She grinned, stepping aside. 

Cedric stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest and sticking one hand out for her to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Chrysta. Forgive me for our first meeting, it wasn’t exactly formal.”

The protector laughed to brush it off, taking his hand to shake. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Sofia’s very important to the both of us.” She threw the princess a wink. Looking back at Cedric, she noticed a certain adoration on top of his head, rousing amusement in the fairie. “I see the pixies have greeted you already.” 

“Hm?” Cedric puzzled at first, but once he noticed that Chrysta had been eyeing higher up on his head, he remembered the flowered decoration the pixies gifted to him just a minute ago. Feeling embarrassed, a hot blush rushed to the sorcerer’s cheeks as he quickly swiped the crown from off his head, chuckling and folding it into his pocket for safe keeping.

Chrysta still had a smirk on her face along with crossed arms, looking over her shoulder she noticed something quite different about the young protectors choice to transportation here. “Sofia, don’t you usually use Skye to get here?” She asked, turning back to the princess with a quizzical look.

Now it was Sofia’s turn to be embarrassed. “I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well good, because we don’t really have time. We need to get you two to the Isle of Mermaids, stat. As far as we know they’re the only ones with the starfish key we need to open the Chest of Miracles.” Chrysta said, checking her enchantlet. 

“Right. We can get there fast.” Sofia reassured, suddenly hardening her tone to let Chrysta know that she meant business.

“Good.” The fairie replied, then turned to Cedric with a smug grin. “Think you can handle it, Royal Sorcerer?”

Cedric scoffed. “I’m sure I can handle a few fish-tailed ladies that spend their day splashing about in the water.” 

“Great!” Chrysta clapped her hands together and began to usher to two back into the carriage. “Check in with me once you’ve got the key, then you can use your enchantlet to transfer it over to me where I’ll be at HQ. Okay, Sofia?” 

“Okay, it’ll be done in no time.” She said confidently as Chrysta continued to push them. 

“Good, now let’s get a move on you two!” She proclaimed, shoving the princess and the sorcerer into the carriage and slamming the door before either of them could get another word out, and smacking the side of the enchanted vehicle to let it take off.

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

“What exactly is the Chest of Miracles, Sofia?” Cedric inquired to the princess sitting across from him. 

“Well,” Sofia started, bringing up her enchantlet to her chin and pressing down on the middle with her finger. The whip extended to create a circle between the two, showing them an image of a jewel-encrusted golden chest with an enchanted lock that looked like it was made of steal iron. It was decorated with rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, you name it. The sight in a mere picture was almost too much for ones eyes to handle. 

“It’s a magical chest that when you open it, it will grant you one wish and one wish only, so powerful that it can’t be reversed by any magic at all.” Sofia tapped her enchantlet, bringing up another image of a couple of regular looking goons, though clearly native to the Mystic Isles. “There’s been a couple of bad elves after it recently. And before we go looking for them we have to ensure that every single key is safe and locked away where nobody can find them. There’s one key on every isle, but they are incredibly hard to find because they only surface every 10 years.” She took the image down, putting her hand back to her side. 

Cedric rubbed his chin, absorbing all that the Princess had explained to him. “Oh my, seems like quite the event to keep track of.”

Sofia nodded. “It is.” Her eyes shifted to the side and upon looking outside the window, she gasped. “We’re here!” She exclaimed as the coach landed on the sandy and rocky surface of the Isle of Mermaids. Sofia sprung up from her seat and flung the door open, dashing outside to the front of what appeared to be a seaweed door. Covering the entrance to the rocky cove, there was a curtain of multiple thick and long strands of seaweed, decorated with seashells and conch shells and starfish in a prettily detailed pattern. 

“Whoa.” Sofia marveled at the display as Cedric strolled up behind her, who was also taking in the aesthetically pleasing sight.

The princess turned to Cedric, putting up a hand to prevent him from going any further. “I’ll go in first, just to make sure it’s safe.” She walked ahead, ignoring Cedric cry out- “W-wait, Sofia!” -out of fear she might get into some kind of trouble that he’d be deemed responsible for. 

Sofia had slightly peeled the seaweed curtains back and slipped in as to not cause too much disturbance. Her eyes widened at the pretty sight of the cove, the weaving and bending isles of crystal white and purple rock pillars stood proud and tall with bunches of sparkling barnacles gathering at their bases. Beneath Sofia’s boots were purple sands, almost identical to the sand in the Dancing Dessert. 

The cove was packed with mermaids, much to Sofia’s luck and surprise. There were so many. Some chatting, some playing and splashing about, some napping on the sandy shore, and some doing their hair and makeup while they rested on rock peaks. All completely unaware of anything going on around them. Oh boy, it was going to be hard to even get their attention. 

“Um.. e-excuse me?” Sofia quipped, but no avail. 

“Excuse me!” She said a little louder. The mermaids just kept socializing. 

Sofia puffed her cheeks, reckoning she’d have to be louder if she ever wanted this to get anywhere. “EXCUSE ME!” She shouted, which took enough energy from her to turn her normally pink-ish cheeks a brilliant red of frustration.

Silence fell over the gaggle of fish girls, they all turned their heads to the source of their disturbance. Sofia was expecting a backlash of annoyed mermaid folk, but instead was met with a wave of pleasant gasps. 

“A visitor!!!’ They all cheered, swimming up to Sofia like excited newly adopted puppy-dogs. 

Taken aback by the sudden attention, the princess stepped back. “Um.. hi!” Sofia waved, trying her best to just smile cutely and be polite. If she wanted to find that key, she’d have to win her way too it. 

“Hi!” One mermaid with red hair replied gushingly. 

“Aren’t you one of the protectors?” A curly black-haired mermaid with a navy blue tail asked eagerly. 

“Yes, actually.” She replied, attempting to make pleasantries. “I’m Princess Sofia, the Mystic Isle’s first human protector.” She stated proudly, making a heroic stance, which only fueled the mermaids’ excitement.

“A PRINCESS?!” They all gawked, swimming even closer, crowding around the little girl.  

“How many crowns do you own?” One chimed. 

“How much are your dresses?” One chirped. 

Unsure how to respond, Sofia backed up as a swarm of chatter and inquires continued to fire at her at once, overwhelmed by all the sudden questions. “Um...”

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

From the other side of the seaweed, Cedric had been nervously biting his nails. Wondering what was taking Sofia so long. He had been pacing, looking at the floor and giving the curtain the occasional worried glance. 

“Oh... what is that girl doing in there?” He muttered, concern greatly affecting his every emote. 

What if they weren’t any help at all? What if they were just being rude? What if they were actually bad mermaids? WHAT IF THEY TRIED TO DROWN HER???

It only took a few minutes for the worries and doubts to build up inside of the sorcerer before he couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s it!” Cedric stopped, stepping up to the door of green strings and puffing out his chest. “I’m going in there.” He declared, drawing out his wand. 

Throwing back the curtain dramatically, which was very opposite to the approach Sofia had tried to take earlier, he stepped inside the cove and called out, “Sofia! Are you alright? What is going on in here?” 

The giggling of the mermaids stopped, being caught by the attention of the new arrival in their midst. Their gazes completely going past the princess and now landing on the tall sorcerer. They unanimously scanned him up and down as Sofia talked. 

“Mr. Cedric, I’m okay, they're actually really nice! They’re... just-”

“A BOY?!” The mermaids squealed in unison, their tails excitedly flipping up in sync. 

“Wha- AH!” Before Cedric had time to react, he felt himself being pulled by his arm down to right where the shore met the water. Before he knew it, or could really register what was going on, he was suddenly surrounded by a flock of doey-eyed fish tailed maidens as the new specimen of their attention. 

“He’s so cute~!” A blonde one in the back cooed, making a shy blush creep onto Cedric’s pale cheeks. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever been called ‘cute’ completely unprompted. 

“We never get any boys here in the cove.” One sighed, looking up and resting her cheek on her arm that was resting on the sand beside his leg. Tracing patterns in the sand with her finger.

“Guys, look at his hair!” A pretty red head reached forward to feel the tips of Cedric’s silvery bangs, to which he sputtered and stumbled back. 

Cedric shook his head, almost certain he had just gotten whiplash from all the tugging and fawning he had just received. He wasn’t used to being so doted on, let alone by a dozen or so pretty mermaids. “I-I-I do apologize ladies, but the Princess and I are in a bit of a-”

“Are you a sorcerer?” The black-haired mermaid swam forward, intrigued by the wand he had currently in his hands possession. 

“Hm?” Cedric directed his attention to where the mermaid had been gazing dreamily, realizing he had been up in arms with his greatest magical tool this whole time. “Oh, um..” he then looked around at the array of adoring faces awaiting for his response. In all honesty it kind of unsettled and yet.. it also flattered him. He would be lying if he told himself that he wouldn’t perhaps enjoy indulging in this sort of attention, just a little. 

“I-I am.” He stated, though that statement was true, he still seeming a little confused and frazzled. However, that response alone was enough to make the mergirls squeal with excitement. 

“Can you show us some tricks?” The blonde one spoke up.

“Oh, well, um, I-I don’t think we really have the ti-” 

“Where’d you get your wand?” The red head intervened.

“That’s actually a funny story! You see I-”

The loud throat-clearing of the princess alerted Cedric to not continue with his story unless they wanted to be there all day. 

“Mr. Cedric, I don’t think we have time for that.” She pointed to her enchantlet, tapping it as if it were a watch. 

Cedric nodded at Sofia, affirming his dedication to get this over with. However, the attention of a particularly bold mermaid caught Cedric’s eye back. A brunette with a dark purple tail swam up to the shore and leaned forward to Cedric on her elbows. “So, Mr. Cedric, do you swim at all~?” She drawled in a sultry manner as she looked up at him through lidded eyes and a confident curl of her lips. This caused a rupture of giggles and whispering from her mermaid companions. In Cedric, it caused what he was sure was the fieriest blush he’s ever felt in his life rise up in his cheeks, knowing he was definitely beat red by now. Not to mention the spike his blood pressure went through at hearing that comment. 

Sofia sighed, lowering her head in defeat. At this rate, she wasn’t gonna get anywhere in finding that key. Not with these mermaids short attention spans. 

The sound of water swishing by the princess’s feet startled her, casing her to turn her head to the water where a “Pstt, hey, Princess!” had sounded. 

Sofia spotted that curly black haired mermaid, who must’ve slipped from the crowd among noticing her distraught. “Is there something you need, honey?” 

The protector smiled in relief, rushing up to the coast line and kneeling down to meet at eye-level with the mermaid.  

“Yes, do you think you can help me?” She asked.

The mermaid chuckled, waving a hand. “Oh of course I can, sugar! You’ll have to excuse me and the girls this whole time, we’re very...” she and Sofia looked over at the rest of her merfriends, who were still gushing over the very frazzled sorcerer, keeping him knelt at the shoreline as one reached up to tuck a lavender sea flower in his hair over top of his ear. They all squealed and giggled at how cute he looked with it.

“distracted easily.” She shook her head, turning her attention back to the princess. 

Sofia giggled at the wholesome sight. “That’s okay.” She turned back to the mermaid. “I’m just glad you’re here now. Do you think you can help me find this?” She lifted up her enchantlet, tapping it to let the whip form it’s image-creating loop, manifesting the sight of a large, sky blue key with an orange starfish that made of the end of the handle. There was a large red jewel installed in the starfish's center, and tiny diamonds aligned the length of the key. “It’s the starfish key, it’s supposed to help open an enchanted chest that needs to be protected.”

The mermaid brightened with familiarity at the sight of the image, straightening up and flipping her tail. “Well why didn’t you say so? I’ll go get it for you!” In a flash, the mermaid dove off back into the water, causing some droplets to splash into Sofia’s face. 

Sofia coughed, wiping the water off her cheeks as she contemplated how easy that was. Well, she supposed it wasn't all that easy. Getting the mermaids to even focus on one thing for long was a challenge on it’s own, but the princess was at least expecting some kind of fight to be put up since what she was asking for was very important. Though, she supposed since she was recognized as a protector, she did have some authority in this realm.

In a mere minute, the mermaid popped back up out of the water, giving the princess a warm smile. Sofia returned her expression and eagerly leaned in as the mermaid had lifted one hand out if the water to reveal the long awaited starfish key exact to the one in the picture. “Is this what you’re looking for, sweet pea?” She drawled, handing the key to the princess. 

“Yes.” Sofia nodded, looking down at the object in her hands. It was a lot more glow-y than in the picture, a gold aura quickly seeped out from it once it hit the air. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime!” The fish lady chirped. “My name’s Quinta, by the way.” She affirmed, resting a hand on her chest to gesture towards herself. 

“Sofia.” The princess stood up to curtsy, addressing herself in return. Then, with key in hand, she turned to Cedric and waved it in the air. “Mr. Cedric!” She called, cupping one hand to her mouth to overpower the noise of the giggling and inquiries of the other mermaids that were still flocked around him. 

The sorcerer’s attention was quickly caught, he turned his head to the princess and beamed, standing up to signal that he was ready to go. “Oh thank goodness you found it!” He exclaimed, a little relived. 

“Actually, it was Quinta.” Sofia smiled, nodding over the the mermaid beside her. She waved at Cedric, who in return waved back.

Sofia rushed up to the sorcerer, tugging on his robe sleeve. “Come on, we have to get this back to HQ.” 

“Right.” Cedric nodded, about to bid the mermaids a polite goodbye. He was interrupted by the feeling of a hand reach out and grab his, tugging gently on his arm. He looked down to see the pleading eyes of the red haired mermaid, along with her other now sad-faced friends crowding in closer to the shore. 

“Do you have to go?” The redhead whined cutely, sticking out her bottom lip. 

“Uh...” Cedric panicked, looking fearfully at all the pouting lips and pleading gazes, afraid of upsetting them he was unsure how to answer. 

Sofia sighed, knowing there’s no way that Cedric, being the kind of person he was, still a little afraid of disappointing people, stepped in to help him. “I’m sorry, but we really have to go. It’s important for the Mystic Isles.” She stood in between the mermaids and her sorcerer, separating them.

“Awwwwww.” The mermaids cried in unison, their shoulders slumping and their expressions dropping. 

“But don’t worry, we’ll probably be coming back at some point!” Sofia chimed, trying to instill a bit of hopefulness into the group as she began to usher Cedric out of the cove, very similarly to how Chrysta had been doing to them earlier when getting them into the coach.

“Hmm, okay!” One chirped hopefully, reaching up to wave the two goodbye. “Bye Princess! Bye Cedric!” 

“Yeah, bye you two!” Another jumped in.

“Hope to see you guys soon!” The blonde called. 

Sofia and Cedric waved politely as they continued to make their way out, looking over their shoulders and at the mermaids briefly before turning around and pulling back the seaweed curtain. Cedric had offered for Sofia to go first, lifting the ocean veil for her, the princess smiled up at him and just before completely disappearing, turned back over her shoulder to see that Quinta was still there, giving Sofia a grin and waving goodbye as well. Sofia smiled back to silently thank her for all her help, and left with her sorcerer.

“Well, that was...” Cedric commented, not really sure how to continue with that as they both walked to the coach. On one hand, the mermaids were incredibly lovely and friendly, but on the other hand, it was all so sudden and quick that he wondered if it even actually happened.

Sofia giggled. “Interesting.” She finished the statement for him, stopping by the coach as Cedric opened the door for her. “Very interesting.” She hopped inside.

“Yes, I should say so, Princess.” Cedric agreed, still in between a state of contentment and confusion, stepping into the coach behind her. 

The princess let out another chortle, hiding her grin behind her hand as she had noticed something... new about Cedric when she sat across from him. Much to his further confusion. 

“What? What is it now?” He panicked. 

Sofia pointed to the side of her head, just above her ear. “I like your flower.” She teased, making Cedric’s hand fly up to his hair. He ruffled around up there with an embarrassed blush before pulling out the flora from his locks and holding it in front of his face. 

“Oh what is with this place and putting flowers on me?” He grumbled, stuffing that flower into his other pocket. 

Sofia grinned cheekily. “I thought it looked cute.” 

Cedric crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, feigning a grumpy facade that hadn’t fooled the princess in years. She knew he fully intended to keep that flower, and the crown he was gifted. 

As the coach continued to sore through the air, it went off to take them to the next Isle. Their journey here only beginning. 

[themysteriousphoenix]

I’m Glad You’re Here.

Newtina Fandom Week - Day 2 (Trials of Life - Injuries, Wounds, and Help) 

This story will also be posted on AO3 here!

————————————————————————————-

The cracking sound of stone hitting bone was a sound that Tina would not soon forget. As she watched from across the street, a man in dark robes flicked his wand at a distracted Newt and sent a large, red brick flying at him. She saw Newt get hit as if it was happening in slow motion, the stone colliding with the side of his head and his body collapsing to the ground. She screamed his name and began running, dodging curses and jumping over fallen bodies, both friend and foe. She could see from several strides away that blood was already trickling steadily from a wide gash at his temple.

"Theseus!" she yelled behind her as she reached Newt and flung herself to the ground. She yanked his bowtie free and reached inside his collar to feel for a pulse. She willed her heart to slow down so that she could feel his pulse instead of her own. Then...there. There it was. He was alive.

"Oh, Mercy Lewis. Yes. Okay." She looked up in the direction where she had last seen Theseus dueling with a dark-haired Grindelwald follower. He was out of sight now and she was on her own. "Newt, you idiot! Oh, what were you thinking?!” She continued her nervous, exasperated mumbling as she looked around her, “Alright, I'm going to get you out of here." She wrapped her arms around his limp torso, hiking him up to rest against her chest. He had passed out as soon as the brick had made contact with his temple.

Now, where were they to go? St. Mungos, the hospital? Was that its name? She didn't know where it was and she would never be able to reach it by apparition. Newt's flat, then. He had most everything she would need for treatment. If she could get him there, they would be okay. She tightened her arms around his body and pictured his front steps, just at the edge of his anti-apparition wards. Her body was surrounded by pressure and then the bright lights and shouting were gone, replaced by a drizzly rain and near silence. It was unnerving.

Tina carefully set Newt's body down on the step before rushing to the door and tapping her wand on his door lock. Thank Merlin he had authorized her on his lock or she wasn't sure how they would have gotten inside. She pushed open the door and began yelling for help.

"Jacob? Jacob!" She heard no response so she ran in further, yelling down through the open door to the basement. "Bunty? Are you here?" It was dark outside, she must have been gone for the day. Jacob must have had to go into work for the evening. She was alone.

"Blast it all," she whispered to herself as she jogged back to Newt who was still lying on the cold, wet cement of his front landing. She waved her wand at his limp body and whispered "Mobilicorpus," guiding him inside and through the entryway door. She looked carefully behind her to make sure nobody had seen her before shutting and locking the door behind her.

Tina guided Newt to the single bed just inside the door and set him down carefully. His head was still bleeding and she knew he probably would have some head trauma. He needed to be awake, but she knew he would be in terrible shape once she woke him up. She decided to gather what she needed first.

With a wave of her wand, Tina summoned dittany, a basin and cloth, a blood replenishing potion, a bottle of Skele-gro, and a nausea relief potion from the basement menagerie. She collected a large bowl from the kitchen and directed everything over to Newt's dresser where it landed lightly on the surface. Tina whispered “Aguamenti” and filled the basin with water from the tip of her wand. She cast a warming charm over it until it was ready to be used.

Now was the moment. Tina dreaded this because she knew he would be in terrible pain, but she had to keep him awake. She had no other way to monitor him. “I’m so sorry, Newt. This is going to hurt.” She pointed her wand at his forehead and said “Rennervate.” Immediately, Newt arched his back and let out a string of curses as he gripped the duvet beneath him with white-knuckled fists.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you. I know it hurts,” she said above his moans and protests as she pushed down on his shoulders, willing him to calm down. “I need you to stay awake, Newt. Can you do that for me?”

“Oh, Merlin’s bloody beard...what the hell happened?” Newt mumbled as he raised his hand to his head. His fingers came away stained with blood, and as he looked at his hand, he finally registered who was standing above him. “Tina?” She could see him trying to hide the pain from her, his shoulders and facial muscles were tensed and his body was rigid.

“I’m here. I’ve got to get you cleaned up, but I need you to stay with me and talk to me, okay?”

“Okay. Why am I covered in blood?” Newt seemed confused, but he was aware. Tina had to keep him talking as she worked. She grabbed for the basin and cloth and sat down next to him.

“Newt, can you tell me what you remember?” She dipped the cloth into the warm water and began to dab at the gash on the side of his face, wiping the drying blood away before dipping the cloth back into the water. As she neared the injury, Newt winced when she hit the tender flesh where the brick had hit him.

“I was...I was running toward where my brother was fighting, but I saw you across the street,” Newt began before sucking air in through his teeth in a hiss as Tina began to clean the cut on the side of his head. “You were fine and--and Theseus needed help, but then I saw Rosier aim at you.” Tina’s eyes widened, she hadn’t known that she had almost been cursed from afar. “I shot a...stunner at her and got her to go after me instead of you. I--” Newt’s brow wrinkled in pain and confusion, “I don’t...remember much after that. Ahh!” Newt jerked away as Tina dabbed the gash with dittany and it began to smoke as it worked.

“Sorry ...sorry,” Tina said as she held his shoulder down and continued to work, “I know that stings. I should have warned you.”

“I don’t think she’s the one who did this though, right?”

“No,” Tina replied, “this was someone else’s doing. A man, he hit you with a brick.” Newt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as she revealed the source of his injury. She quickly finished with the dittany and tapped his head with her wand. Bandages erupted from the tip and began wrapping themselves around his head to cover the wound. “Alright, I don’t think that will scar too badly. Your hair covers most of it, thankfully,” Tina said as she stood up to banish the basin of blood-tinged water to the kitchen.

“Tina…” Newt spoke softly, reaching up to grasp her wrist lightly.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know how exactly you got me here, and I know it probably wasn’t easy, and just...thank you.”

Tina looked down at Newt on the bed and smiled. She put her free hand on top of his and stroked her fingers over the back of his hand. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re okay. You scared me.”

“So sorry,” Newt said in response, a concerned look crossing his face.

Tina laughed lightly, “It wasn’t your fault! Don’t apologize!” She sat lightly on the edge of the bed, Newt’s hand still resting between her arm and her hand. “Here, let’s see if you can sit up.” As Newt began trying to raise himself up with his free hand, Tina pulled one hand away to rest on his chest. “Whoa there, slowly. You’re going to be dizzy and I don’t need you passing out again. Slow…”

Newt freed his hand and used both to push himself up to a sitting position. “Oh, that does not feel good,” he moaned. Tina thrust a vial in front of him for him to drink.

“Nausea relief. Drink up.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” Newt took the vial and swallowed the contents, his face scrunching up in disgust as it passed his lips.

Tina handed him three more vials of various potions before she was satisfied. “Alright,” she said, “here, let me help you.” Tina grabbed couch cushions and pillows to help prop him up on the bed.

“I just want to sleep now,” Newt said drowsily before Tina interrupted him.

“No sleep. Not with a head injury.”

Newt groaned as he leaned his head back to rest on the pillows, the effort causing him to scrunch his brow in pain. “That is a terrible rule,” he quipped.

Tina laughed lightly before settling herself on the edge of the bed. “Tell me a story?” she asked him, ignoring the mess around them for the moment. “Maybe it will help you stay awake.”

“What story would you like to hear? I’m not sure I will be very effective with storytelling at the moment, my brain is a bit broken.” Newt smiled at her and reached tentatively to grasp her hand again, causing Tina to smile as her cheeks reddened slightly.

“Um, how about how you got the Niffler? As much as I feel like I should thank the pest for gaining me a pen pal, I have never heard how you found him.” Tina began to feel herself relax, finally, as Newt ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

As Newt told the story, recalling the several times he had tried and failed to reintroduce the Niffler to the wild, Tina felt content as she listened to him talk about the creatures he loved so much. They were both safe, they would both be okay. Newt’s hand remained solidly in her own. Today they got lucky and she wouldn’t take it for granted.

As Newt reached a natural pause in his story, Tina lifted his hand to her lips, kissing it lightly. Newt froze, locking eyes with her. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered. Newt looked down at his lap and smiled to himself. He slowly, hesitantly, laced his fingers through hers. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered back, smiling to himself.

[xbarrjallenx]

The Only One

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: A drunk and cheeky Newt asked (Y/N) to give him some love once again. Would the latter grant his request before their reunion night came to an end?

Word count: 2.890

Posted: 12th of December 2018

A/N: And here is the third and the final part of Happier! I don’t know how it turned out, but I did my best to give it a fair ending. Please leave some feedbacks, because I really need to know what you think about it, so please please, I am desperately begging you.

My song inspiration for this part is Ed Sheeran’s “One”. It is one of my favourite songs, so please give it a listen. Thank you very much for the love and support!

- G. x

P.S.: Tumblr is having problems with links in the post, so if you want to read the first and the second part, you can go to my profile and search for Happier and Give Me Love in my Masterlist, under Fantastic Beasts section. Thank you and sorry for the inconvenience!

Tags: @atlas-of-a-human-soul; @i-ship-it-ironically; @dreacantsleep; @writtenbypics; @themagicforceofmischief; @ann-is-amazing-person; @llealia

“Wha-,” Your eyes grew wide in shock as soon as you heard his request, which was also a kind of a confession, and your heart hastily pounded against your chest. “What? Newt, are you okay?” You were startled, because he wasn’t a very straightforward person before, but his older brother and your best friend just widely smiled to encourage you to believe him.

Give me love like never before, because after all this time, I still feel the same for you.

You were completely confused and your brain suddenly seized by hearing his muffled, but still understandable words. Well, that was the most bemusing thing that you have ever heard in your life.

What did he just say? He still felt the same for you? He still loved you? He wanted for you to love him again? Absurd!

“It’s okay, if you do-,” Newt started his indistinctive mumbles once again, but Leta cut him off as she pushed you closer to him, giggling in excitement. You almost knocked him off his feet, but you thankfully gripped on the table in front of you.

“She’s going with you.”

You swore to Merlin that you have never loathed anyone in your life until that very specific moment. How would you talk to him? You didn’t have any shots of firewhisky to build your courage high, what were you going to tell him?

“Good night!” The couple greeted you as soon as you and Newt bid your goodbye. You rolled your eyes at the sight of their cheeky smiles, but then you just shrugged it off. Newt was still a special person for you, after all.

The journey to Newt’s home was rather quiet and awkward. Many things ran through your clouded mind, but Newt didn’t seem to be bothered by any of his thoughts. In fact, he was being carefree as he hummed to a song that you barely recognised.

Give me love like never before, but how would you if he already had Tina? I still feel the same for you, when did he exactly realise it?

You walked beside him, your steps were serene, but his were messy, obviously because of the drunkenness. The space between you was just right, not too far, not that near either, but sometimes your hand would brush against his and you couldn’t deny that a powerful electricity would still gush through your veins. You longed for him, you longed for his touch and you missed him so much, his confession might be true, but then you realised: he was just drunk. You shouldn’t be too delusional!

“You are too quiet tonight, my (Y/N). What are you thinking about?” Newt instantaneously blurted out, grabbing your icy-cold hand to halt you from walking for a little while.

“Huh?” You were shocked for his direct actions too, mostly for him calling you his, but you quickly calmed down as his hand gave you the warmth that you were searching for ever since you got out of Theseus’ house. The cold winter breeze slightly woke him up, but the circulating alcohol in his system still kept him warm.

“What are you thinking about?” He repeated his question and your heart skipped its beat once again as he tightened his grip on your freezing hand. He still had the same effect on you, he still invigorated you.

“Nothing.” You lied through your teeth and, although you hated on doing it, you retracted your hand from his grasp and kept on walking. You heard him groan in annoyance, but he kept on walking in zigzags.

“(Y/N)!” He childishly whined to call your attention. This wasn’t obviously the Newt that you used to know, but well, ta-da, alcohol’s work, but you loved seeing him act in that way. He slightly made you chuckle, but you quickly stopped it, so you wouldn’t give him the wrong idea.

“What did you drink with your brother tonight, Mr. Scamander?” You raised an eyebrow while you waited for him to be beside you again. “Well, apart from the Champagne.”

“Fire-whis-keey!” He honestly answered, exaggeratedly emphasising every syllable of the word. Oh, what a naughty Hufflepuff!

“Firewhisky?” If it weren’t a night full of surprises! His simple answer suddenly explained why you had a very straightforward Newt Scamander in front of you. That alcoholic drink gifted courage. Every sear that your throat would endure was equivalent to a great quantity of courage. “Theseus, ugh!”

“Actually, it was my choice.” He slightly giggled as he looked at your perplexed, but annoyed facial expression. “It bu-burnt my throat a lot. How did you manage drinking that?”

You just rolled your eyes in response, but your gaze softened when you realised that you were slowly feeling comfortable with Newt once again. After all, you were having a normal conversation right now, as if he didn’t say anything bonkers minutes before. “I was broken hearted and I wanted to forget you. What about you? What is your motive?”

“Forget me?” He playfully scoffed as he remembered the last night you saw each other. “I remember otherwise.”

“Oh, shut up, Scamander!” You vexedly slapped his chest as he continuously teased, but you both burst into a noisy laughter soon after, making some chaos in the serene street you were walking on. “So, what is your motive? Are you trying to forget someone too?”

You avoided his gaze as Tina Goldstein came across your mind. Was he doing the same thing you did when you wanted to forget him? Was he ruining himself too to relieve his broken heart? Did Tina even break his heart? If yes, how could she? Newt was the most amazing person that you have ever known in your life.

He stopped you once again from walking, gripping on your arm this time. “No, stop torturing yourself with your useless thoughts! I did it just because I wanted to have an overflowing amount of courage on doing this.”

Newt nonchalantly pulled you close to him, your body tenderly bumping against his. His warm hand was brought on your crimson red cheek and he suddenly leant in to press a gentle kiss on your quivering lips. Saying that you were flabbergasted wasn’t enough, you never expected for this to happen!

Newt was literally out of his mind, but you realised that you were too, when you chose to flutter close your eyes and move your lips together with his. You missed this, you missed him. Your heart was crazily beating, because of the tenderness of his touch. You were kissing him again, after months of not seeing each other, after months of avoiding each other.

The kiss was so romantic and sweet, needy at the right point. He missed you, he needed you and to deepen the kiss even more, he slithered his arms around your waist, while you brought yours around his neck, slowly tugging your icy-cold fingers in his messy dark-auburn locks. His massive lips gave you comfort and warmth, albeit the bitter taste of the alcohol invaded your taste buds. His touch brought you to another world, a world where all the wrong things seemed so right and the right things seemed so wrong.

“Newt!” You called him out in the middle of your little making out session in one of the serene and quiet streets of London. You loved everything about it, you loved locking lips with him once again, but a little thought rapidly brought you back to the reality. “This is wrong.”

“Your lips and your body said otherwise, love.” Newt cheekily smirked as soon as you pushed him away from you, hands sadly leaving his tousled hair. You wanted to stay in his arms the whole night, but it was all wrong.

You were confused as different emotions wrapped your system: worry, because you still longed for his warmth, although it was erratic and inappropriate; sadness, because he wasn’t yours to hold anymore; agony, because your heart still beat for him even after he hurt you; nostalgia, because the taste that his lips allowed awakened most of your wonderful memories with him.

“Oh, the guy who flirts with you at work. Right!” Newt’s smirk speedily faltered as he remembered something that has been mentioned during the dinner earlier. How could he be so stupid sometimes?

You shook your head in response, hoping that he would understand that the guy meant really nothing to you. “I actually meant your girl, Tina.” You softly pronounced her name and warm teardrops briskly rolled down your face.

The thought of her having the man that you once loved broke you, hurt you.

“You don’t have to worry about her.” Newt assured you with a soft purr as he pulled you close to him once again. “Stop crying.”

“Why?” You asked while he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hand and wiped your hot tears with his thumbs just like how he used to.

Give me love like never before, because after all this time, I still feel the same for you.

His words echoed through the walls of your fuzzy mind once again and you just knew that the time of asking him what he really meant earlier came. After all, he didn’t answer your question regarding his new love interest.

“Newt?” You calmly called and he hummed in response to tell you that he was listening. “What do you even mean when you asked me to give you love like never before?”

Newt considered your eyes and squeezed your cheeks sheepishly. “It’s not that hard to understand, (Y/N).”

“I know, but all of this is bonkers for me, Newt!” You truthfully explained, grabbing his coat’s sleeves to take his hands off your reddened face. “I don’t even know if I should believe you or not.”

“Why is it difficult to believe me?” He eagerly asked and you just unleashed a long and heavy sigh before starting to walk once again. “Is it because I am drunk?”

“Yes,” You confidently and honestly answered. “aren’t you?”

“May I ask you a question, (Y/N)?” He asked as he walked towards your direction, still following you in zigzags. He kept on dropping important topics aside and he started getting on your nerves.

“Answering a question with another question isn’t very respectful, Mr. Scamander,” You sarcastically told him, shaking your head as you saw him struggling to walk properly. “but fire away.”

“Did you really mean what you said to me that night? That you would wait for me until she breaks my heart?” He brought the most improper topic up, still having lots of courage in his store. He never had the chance to ask you about it, he started avoiding you and you started avoiding him, right? This was his time.

You suddenly stopped from walking as you remembered what you told him that night and you suddenly felt a pang in your chest. Why did you do this to yourself? “Should I still wait for a very long time?”

“Answering a question with another question isn’t very respectful, (Y/N).” The cheeky Hufflepuff fired back, copying your statement minutes before. Touché, but couldn’t he be serious for just one time?

“Newton Scamander!” You pouted while you severely scolded him. He just laughed at your actions, but stopped on walking to face you.

“What?”

“You are so miffing!” You whined and you earned more tumultuous laughs from him. He could be very annoying, but he acted that way even when he was sober, so you just shook it off.

Well, he was so adorable when he would enjoy himself and it somehow fluttered your heart, breaking the thick walls that you were slowly building around your heart, in case he revealed you something that would hurt you by the end of your inexhaustible walk.

“But yes, I did mean every single word I said that night. Why would you think that I would lie?” You seriously asked him, making him stop from laughing. “Because I was drunk?”

“Exactly my point, love!” He slightly chuckled while he walked back towards your direction to grab your hand and pulled you as you both walked together. “You know, even though I am drunk, I am still aware of what I am doing, (Y/N), because I know what my heart wants.”

“And what does your heart want?” You curiously asked, considering his bluish-green orbs as you walked hand in hand. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, but he still guided you. Was it you or Newt the drunk one?

“Another request for the night!” He blurted out with a wide grin on his face. He changed your topic once again and he was really trying to annoy you.

This limitless walk with Newt seemed like a very long rollercoaster ride. It was a walk full of ups, downs and loops of emotions.

“Again?” You vexedly whined, childishly pouting.

“You asked me what my heart wants, (Y/N)!” He sternly exclaimed to let you know that he was being serious this time.

“Ugh,” You groaned in annoyance, but your expression lit up as you finally saw his house from afar. It would be his last request for the night. It was too much, but you didn’t want to regret anything else for the rest of your life. Seize the night, just like what Theseus said before the dinner has started. “what is it?”

You both halted on walking as soon as you reached his porch and he leant in towards your direction to mumble something in your ear. “P-Please s-stay with me.”

“S-s-stay with you?” You terribly stuttered while curiosity and anxiety filled your senses. You couldn’t believe that he was requesting such thing from you, in fact you thought it was just one of his lame ways to make fun of you, but when you considered his stunning eyes, he seemed very sober and earnest. “Newt?”

“Yes,” He nodded sincerely with a warm toothy smile plastered on his face. “please stay with me forever.”

“Huh?” You harshly bit your lower lip, unanswerable questions popping in your head. “I don’t understand. How about Tina? Where is Tina? Why are you asking me this? What are you, Newt? Insane?”

Newt just shook his head in disbelief, letting go of your hand as he pulled you close to him. He was so touchy, still alcohol’s works, but you loved it when he welcomed your body in a lighthearted embrace.

“You might have noticed that I was happy with Tina that time, but the truth is that I am happier with you, (Y/N).” He truthfully confessed while he lovingly caressed your hair with his fingers. His voice was gloomy, but honest. He was hurt when you walked away from him that night, because that was when he realised that you were his everything. He realised that leaving the only person that he loved the most was the greatest mistake that he has ever done in his life and he wanted that person back. He needed you back. “I only have these eyes for you and I realised how important you are to me.”

You were important to him? That confession overwhelmed you even more. He still wanted you in his life and you were having mixed emotions once again, but this time, you could barely explain to yourself what you were exactly feeling, but happiness was surely dominating.

“Did she break your heart?” You calmly asked, being as stupid as Newt when he pointed out the guy who flirted with you at work during a very serious moment.

“All my senses came to light, (Y/N).” He softly mumbled as he left a sweet kiss on your temple. You shut your eyes as you enjoyed Newt’s presence, smelling his perfume as you buried your head on the crook of his neck. “I still love you, (Y/N).”

He still loved you! He still did and that moment seemed so surreal for you that you were so afraid to let him go, because you thought that might just lose him again. It seemed like a very unrealistic dream, because he took you back to him in just a heart beat. You were back in his arms, you were back in your own home.

“A-are you staying?” His voice nonchalantly broke, confidence and courage slowly deflating when he didn’t hear you answer back. “(Y/N)?”

“I love you too, Newt, and I am absolutely staying with you!” You suddenly hugged him back, snaking your arms around his torso tightly. He wanted you back and, it was useless to not grant his last request, because you wanted him too, you needed him too. “Please don’t ever leave me again, Newt.”

You kept your eyes solidly shut and your grip around his body was even tighter.

“I already made a mistake when I left you once, my little (Y/N). I wouldn’t forgive myself if I made another one.” He honestly muttered, planting a kiss on the top of your head while some choked sobs left his lips. The fear of completely losing you was still fresh in his mind.

“Newt, my love,” You comforted him by rubbing his back with your hands. “I am here now.”

“And I promise I’ll never leave again,” He proudly pledged, both of your hearts beating as one. “because you are the only one, my only one.”

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Pretty Good

@chaoticbong You sent this to me quite a bit ago and I am sorry for the wait! Don’t quite know if this is how you imagined it but I had a lot of fun with it! Longer than I thought it would be. 

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               “Come on!” Scorpius begged, pulling on Albus’ arm. “If we hurry, we might finish before they wake up.”

               “Just because the sun is up, does not mean that I should be as well. It’s way too early for this.” Albus retorted, keeping his eyes closed, hoping his brother would go back to bed.

               Scorpius scoffed harshly. “It’s noon not five in the morning!” Honestly, he didn’t even know how they were related, let alone twins. Albus was so different than him.

               “It’s just that they both worked late last night and it’s only the first day of summer break. I wanted to make breakfast for them!” Scorpius continued, hoping to plead to the softer side of his brother. The one that Albus tried to pretend didn’t exist.

               Albus sighed heavily, throwing his blanket off him in a huff. “I swear it’s a miracle you were placed in Slytherin. I think Hufflepuff was robbed of you.”

               “It’s not nice to generalize.” Argued Scorpius. “You have Gryffindor tendencies, but you don’t hear me saying anything.” He barely withheld a smirk at the outraged expression on his brother’s face.

               “Hold your tongue.” Albus barked, not bothering to change out of his Slytherin pajamas. “Besides, only other Hufflepuffs care about the generalization of Hufflepuffs.”

               “I’ve got to be adopted.” Scorpius mumbled, leaving their bedroom and going down the stairs. “It’s the only explanation.”    

               “Are you speaking about me?”

               Scorpius looked up to smile at Teddy, who was at the bottom of the stairs with a wicked smirk on his face.

               “I’m the only adopted one here.”

               “That remains to be decided.” Scorpius countered. “Albus and I just can’t be real twins.”

               Teddy shook his head fondly as he ruffled the already messy mop of blonde hair. “I was there when you were born. Granted I was only four at the time, but I distinctly remember there being two babies.”

               “Maybe my real twin got switched at birth.” Albus yelled from the inside of the bedroom, causing both Teddy and Scorpius to roll their eyes. “I should start a search party.”

               “Be quiet.” Scorpius whisper yelled. “I don’t want to wake them up!”

               “What are you up to?” Teddy asked, suspicion heavy in his tone. “I don’t want to have to clean up after either of you nor will I lie on the stand if a murder is committed.”

               “What kind of brother are you?” Albus asked in disbelief, coming down the stairs, black hair neatly in place. “I would lie to the Wizengamot for you. It’s called brotherly love.”

               “No.” Retorted Teddy firmly. “It’s called self-preservation. I refuse to be an accomplice to any of your schemes. The last time I covered for you, I was somehow evading the Canadian Minister at the yearly Survival Remembrance ball.”

               “In my defense—.” Albus began, lie already on the tip of his tongue.

               “—We aren’t doing anything bad.” Scorpius interrupted quickly. Not allowing his brother to blame him in what was no doubt a lie to cover his horrible plan to convince the Canadian Minister that the next Dark Lord was actually Mister Longbottom in disguise. That hadn’t ended well for anyone.

               “I just want to make breakfast for father and dad.”

               Teddy backed away with a haste that surprised Scorpius. “No way. Remember the Father’s Day debacle of 2012? I want no part in this.” He turned around and quickly fled.

               “I don’t know what his issue is.” Albus scratched his head. “It was only a small fire.” There was an indignant pause. “And it only happened once.”

               “Twice!” Teddy called from somewhere in the house. “Don’t forget when you tried to make tea for father when he was sick.”  

               “I thought we all decided that that didn’t happen.” Albus argued, folding his arms across his chest. It was an accident. Cooking just didn’t work with him. Somehow disasters happened every time he even bothered.

               “It was water Al.” Scorpius whispered with a shake of his head as he made his way towards the kitchen. “You were boiling water.” His silence heavily suggested that this shouldn’t have happened.

               “I resent your silent accusations.”

               “If they were silent, then you didn’t hear them.” Scorpius pointed out, pulling out the requirements for pancakes. That was simple, right?

               “Twin magic. I heard them all.” Albus countered, sitting on the table and watching his brother combine everything needed.

               “You do realize that’s just a lie we tell people, don’t you? Twin magic has never been established as legitimate.” Scorpius worried about his brother sometimes.

               “I knew it!” Teddy’s faraway voice could be heard, and it had Albus snorting.

               “Are you going to help me or not?” Scorpius asked Albus, turning on the burners.

               “Oh god.” Teddy whispered from his hiding spot behind the couch, hoping that they wouldn’t burn the house down.

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

               Movement had Draco clinging to Harry and letting out a pitiful moan. “No. I don’t want to get up yet.”

               Harry chuckled as he looked down at the blonde sprawled across his chest. “You don’t have to. I was just going to make breakfast.” He checked the time. “Or rather lunch.”

               “Eh.” Draco mumbled dismissing this entirely. “They are old enough to make their own breakfast.”

               “I think you have forgotten who our children are. I don’t trust them to make chocolate milk.”

               Draco snorted, agreeing with his husband’s statement entirely. “Teddy knows how to cook.”

               “Alright.” Harry conceded readily. “But the twins are picky and he doesn’t have the patience to make multiple things.”

               “You are too nice.” This was said as if that was a horrible thing to be. “You appease them too much. Just make one thing and if they don’t like it, they don’t have to eat it. They can starve.”  

               “This is why I am their favorite.” Harry teased just to watch Draco pout.

               “Lies, blasphemy and hearsay.” Draco rested his chin on Harry’s chest and smiled into green eyes. “You are only their favorite when I am punishing them.”

               Before Harry could point out that Draco never punishes them, a skillful hand began wandering over his body.

               “I can think of a better breakfast we can have before we have to be responsible parents.” Draco tried to be coy but his smirk was negating that.

               Responsible wasn’t exactly a descriptor Harry would use when thinking of Draco but he was too distracted by a warm tongue making its way near his neck before an equally warm mouth began sucking a mark.

               Before either of them could really begin anything, a pounding of their door had them both sighing in defeat.

               “Hey!” Teddy rapped harshly, hoping they were decent. “Guys, we have to buy a new house.”

               Harry traded a look with Draco before clearing his throat. “Why would we do that? What’s wrong?” He almost didn’t want to know. He knew without a doubt that it somehow involved Albus and Scorpius.

               “Scorpius wanted to make breakfast for you both but he got Albus to help.”

               There was a dreaded pause before they both jumped out of bed, barely putting on robes in the process as they ran for the door.

               They had just made it to the top of the stairs before an explosion had them all reaching for the banister to steady them.

               “When I asked for siblings, I thought it was implied that they would be normal.” Teddy whispered, not even wanting to go investigate.

               “Well, that was clearly too much to ask for.” Draco replied, wondering why his sons were like this. It had to be karma. Not his but definitely Harry’s karma.

               “I’m going in.” Harry declared suddenly, mentally preparing himself for whatever he was going to find.

               “There’s that Gryffindor bravery coming in handy.” Teddy whispered before high fiving Draco when his dad smirked at him.

               Harry had made it to the bottom before he realized that his husband hadn’t followed him. When he turned around to look expectantly at him, he wasn’t even surprised to see the incredulous expression on the blonde’s face.

               “Draco.”

               It was just horribly unfair that Harry was able to demand, beg and plead in the same tone. “Oh, alright. But I want this to be remembered for later. I am defying all common sense by doing this.”

               Harry rolled his eyes, wondering if he had four children instead of three. “You want it to be remembered that you behaved as any rational parent should? Definitely Order of Merlin: First Class material.”

               “I don’t like the censure in your tone.”

               Teddy grinned as he watched his parents banter back and forth. They had always been like this and he was just happy that they never stopped. Marriage wasn’t as forever as a lot of people hope it to be. Most of his friends’ parents were divorced.

               Draco poked Harry in the back when the man stopped at the closed door hesitantly. His husband was not going to back out. Not now that he had been forced to go along as well.

               When Harry opened the door, he groaned loudly at the sight of what used to be their pristine kitchen. Some kind of lumpy liquid was everywhere, eggs were cracked and stuck to the ceiling, a horrible smell permeated the room, flour covered both of their younger sons, the table was broken in two and the fridge door appeared to be hanging on by sheer will.

               “What the bloody hell happened here?” Draco asked in disbelief. “Is this a breakfast warzone? What the hell did our kitchen ever do to you?” He looked to the fridge and groaned. “The fridge was a casualty. Friendly fire.” That was one of his favorite muggle appliances.

               Despite the situation, Teddy and Harry snickered at Draco’s reaction.

               “In my defense—” Albus began, trying to find a plausible excuse that wouldn’t get him grounded.

               “—I’m sorry.” Scorpius whispered sadly, interrupting his twin. “I just wanted to make something for you guys since you worked late last night.”

               Harry’s anger dissipated at the positively miserable green eyes peering at him. “If you both clean this up, we won’t have to move.”

               Teddy covered his mouth with his hand as his shoulders shook.

               The mess of the room was still horrible to Draco. “The next time you decide you want to cook for us, wait until you have your own home and please make sure I am not there.”

               Draco grinned when he was on the receiving end of Albus’ piercing glare that so resembled his own. The shade of grey was similar but distinguishable. He wrapped his arm around Teddy’s shoulders and pulled on Harry’s arm.

               “If you both hurry up, you can come with us for breakfast. We are eating out.” Harry called over his shoulder.

               “Hey Teddy.” Scorpius called out with a pleading tone.

               “No way!” Teddy argued, flopping down on the couch next to his parents. “I’m not helping! I wasn’t the mastermind behind this disaster.”

               “Remember on Halloween night, at Hogwarts, when we saw you—” Albus was cut off by the sound of Teddy sprinting up and running towards the door.

               “I’ll help you. Because I am a nice brother and I just adore you both so much.”

               Draco arched his brows as their eldest disappeared. “I wonder if I can dupe the twins into telling me what they have over Teddy.”

               That had Harry snorting. “They won’t fall for it.”

               “Yeah, but I can guilt Scorpius into telling me. He’s the kindest one out of all of our kids.”

               “He gets that from me.” Harry pointed out, laying his head on Draco’s shoulder.

               Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s messy hair. “Yes, he does.” Not even bothering to deny it. “But I refuse to take credit for any of Albus.” He felt Harry’s smile into his skin and nuzzled the top of his lover’s head.

               “I think we did pretty good with them.” Harry whispered, lifting his head up and kissing Draco softly.

               The sound of Teddy and Scorpius laughing at something Albus said had Draco smiling softly.

              “Damn right we did.”

[wildegreenlight]

Up to the Task

Ok, so this was supposed to be my third submission to @romioneflufffest but the interwebs ate it. Hope you enjoy my two favorite dorks being fluffy and adorable and clueless (but not really).

Special thanks to @callieskye for her editing skills!

Prompt: Common Room at Midnight

Description: There are some things that Ron just can’t bring to the surface.

Rating: T

Word County: 2229

Ron Weasley should have been fast asleep. It was nearly midnight, and he had experienced more than his share of excitement for one day. His body was exhausted beyond it’s fourteen years, yet his mind would not let him rest. From where he lay in his four poster, Ron could hear the familiar sounds of his dorm mates enjoying a good night’s sleep. Even Harry was snoring lightly having remained motionless since his mumbled nox more than an hour ago.

No one deserved the rest more than Harry, that was for sure. Of course he was tired; he’d all but single-handedly saved’em all during that ruddy task today! He didn’t even care about winning, he’d just wanted to save his friends.

The thought made his heart warm a little with pride for his best friend. He really was a good mate. For a moment he felt a whisper of shame for the way he reacted when Harry’s name had come out of the goblet. He should’ve known that Harry’d never intentionally seek glory. It really wasn’t his style. Even his spot on the Quidditch team had come from his standing up for Neville.  

He guessed he just took it for granted; sure he grumbled and complained about it sometimes, but he really was lucky to have such a great, big family. He couldn’t imagine not having them to count on. He knew, in an abstract way, that Harry didn’t have a proper family, don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad more furious than he was at those Dursleys, but to know that he was the person that Harry would miss most…that was a little overwhelming.

It changed things a little, didn’t it? It was a lot of responsibility. Not that he hadn’t already taken that responsibility on, come to think of it. He didn’t remember making a conscious choice to do so, but he reckoned breaking him out with a flying car in second year had really sealed his fate. Ron knew, without a doubt, that Harry was more than just his friend, he was part of his family. Family meant you looked out for each other, and sure, you might want to hex them into oblivion sometimes, but you always had their back.

As he thought about his family, Ron began to wonder: if the roles had been reversed, who would he have found in that lake? He’d like to think that it would have been Harry, if nothing else, that’d be fair. A little part of his mind felt guilty that it might not be someone in his “real” family. Would he have been as frantic with worry about Ginny as Fleur had been about her little sister? And even though he still felt partially to blame for what had happened to her during her first year, he still wasn’t fully convinced that she’d be the person he missed most.

That really left Harry as the most obvious choice. They were best friends; they spent everyday together. Ron felt a thought crawling toward him, one that he’d been trying to dodge: there was someone else that he spent every day with, someone who was also his best friend. He didn’t like where this was going. Not because he couldn’t accept the fact that he’d want to save her, of course he’d save her. That had been established when he knocked out a troll, and burped slugs, and faced giant spiders, and stood up to a dangerous maniac. It made him uncomfortable because he had to accept the fact that she had been someone else’s to save.

The thought lay in his gut like a plate of Hagrid’s biscuits. It made him want to punch that Bulgarian git in the face; he might know more about bloody Quidditch but he doesn’t know a thing about Hermione! After their big row at the Yule Ball, they had come to a sort of unspoken agreement to give the entire issue a wide berth. Neither of them had spoken of it again, and until today he hadn’t even seen the two of them together. He guessed he should be thankful that he’d been unconscious; he didn’t even want to think about the nightmares he would’ve had if he’d seen that slimy wanker swimming toward her, with or without his stupid shark head! It’d been bad enough that he’d had to see him fawning all over her afterwards. At least he had Fleur’s thankfulness to distract him.

He threw his blankets back in frustration. Ugh! I’m never gonna get to sleep like this! Deciding to take a stab at finding a random chess opponent or a house elf with snacks. Ron slipped a jumper over his pyjamas and headed for the common room.  As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he froze: sitting on the sofa with an open book in her lap was the very person he had been trying very hard not to think about, Hermione.

For a split second he considered turning quickly and bolting up the stairs, but something in the way she was staring at the pages made him pause. It was obvious, at least to him, that she was not reading. When Hermione read she cocked her head slightly, very slightly, to the left and moved her eyes very quickly over the page, if you paid attention you could see them move over each word. Not now. Her head was not tilted in either direction and she stared down into the book with no movement at all. If she wasn’t reading, which obviously she wasn’t, what was she doing? His curiosity outweighed the possible awkwardness, so he stepped closer.

“Looking for a spell to remove the sweet smell of Giant Squid?” she startled at his words, but he was relieved to see her small smile of recognition.

“No,” she pulled a large lock of hair to her nose and inhaled, “but maybe I should, I hate to think of all the disgusting things living in that water.” They both laughed breaking the tension of the moment, and she motioned for him to sit down.

“Sure? Not bothering you am I?”

“Not at all,” she pulled her knees up, trapping the open book between her legs and her chest. “I just couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come read for a bit. How about you?”

“Same…well ‘cept for the reading part.”

He sat down on the sofa, not quite beside her, but not as far as the opposite end. Considering the thoughts that had brought him down here, he should have felt awkward, but for some strange reason he didn’t. It really was a bit baffling to him that when it was just the two of them, they seemed to get along brilliantly.

“Speaking of…whatcha reading?”

“Oh, nothing really, Professor McGonnagal recommended it, so I thought I would enjoy it, but honestly, I just cannot seem to get into it.”

Ron gave himself a mental pat on the back, he knew she hadn’t been reading! “Lemme guess…300 Simple Steps to Becoming Head Girl? No wait… Cats and the Totally Mental Witches Who Love Them?”  

Hermione kicked at him, pushing his knee with her foot which caused the book to slip to the floor.  They both leaned over to grab it at the same time, bumping foreheads in the process. Ron made a dramatic yelp causing her to scold,  “I swear, if you make a crack about how hard my head is, I will throw you back in that lake!”

At his pantomime of innocence, they both broke out in a fresh wave of laughter. This was how it was supposed to be. Easy. No hairy Bulgarian apes causing problems. Just a couple of best friends laughing together in their pyjamas…in the common room…at midnight…all alone. Suddenly he did feel nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“We should probably get to bed,” he prayed that his voice wasn’t as shaky as it sounded in his own head.

Hermione heaved a sigh, “I know, we’ve both had long day,” he nodded in agreement, “but I can’t stop thinking about…about.”

“About what?” Way to go Weasley! This is exactly what you didn’t want to do!!

“The thing you’d miss most,” her voice came out softer than he thought he’d ever heard it, and from the look on her face it was almost like she couldn’t believe she had said it aloud.

Fuck!

“Uh…me?”

“Well…yeah…not just you…me too…I mean…in general…you know?” She looked at him so earnestly that he could not deny her.

“Yeah…I do. Actually why I couldn’t sleep,” he decided to tell the truth, well, at least something that was adjacent to the truth. “I mean…I worry about Harry…I forget sometimes that we’re the closest thing to family he’s got.”

“I know, me too. I thought it was both of us, at first, today, in Dumbledore’s office,” she looked off to the side, toward the fire, and he could see the color rise in her cheeks.

“Me too.”

“Of course, I know that was probably ridiculous.”

“No it wasn’t!” Not as bloody ridiculous as being the thing Krum would miss most when he’s only known you for a few months!  “And anyway, what about Cedric and Cho? I think that got Harry a little…he didn’t think they were that serious.”

“Well her being his choice doesn’t necessarily mean that it is that serious.”

“Sounds pretty serious to me,” he recognized the dangerous path he was on, but he honestly, could not stop himself from taking the next step, “Sounds like Cedric cares about her a whole lot.”

“That may be true,” she looked up then, and he hoped to Merlin she didn’t notice his quick intake of breath at the sight of her expression, “but it doesn’t mean that she feels the same way, does it? I mean…well, she might have someone else that she would miss more.” She was giving him a look he recognized, the one she sometimes used when she tried to help Neville remember where he left something. A look that she had been known to give Ron when she was trying to get him to figure out a revision without her just giving him the answer.

“Never thought about it that way.” Alarms were all but sounding in his head: something horribly wonderful was rising to the surface, something that he was in no way prepared to face.  Ron took the only out he could see, he reached a little blindly for his trusty humor life-preserver  and prayed it would carry him to shore. “That would be a little awkward, yeah? Like…Hey, I know I’m the person you’d miss most and all, but the thing is, I’d really miss someone else more…hope you don’t mind.” 

He was more than relieved to find Hermione snickering at his comment.

“What if it wasn’t even another person,” she gave him a conspiratorial grin, “I mean it did say the thing you’d miss most.”

“That’d be great: you swim down to the bottom of the lake and all you find is a soggy bacon sandwich!”

“That would be yours for sure!”

“Oi! It would not! I’d have you to know that it would be TWO soggy bacon sandwiches!”

“Of course! How could I have been so wrong?”

“Better than yours! Yours’d probably just be a copy of Hogwarts a History.”

She crossed her arms and grumbled dramatically, “It’s like you don’t know me at all!”

“Is that so? Well I know that you think that it’d be Crookshanks, but it wouldn’t.”

“Alright then, if you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me what it would be?”

Ron shook his head, a wide grin plastered over his now very sleepy face. “Nah…what would be the fun in that?”

Fighting back a yawn, Hermione gloated, “as usual, the fun would be in proving you wrong.”

“Yeah…how ‘bout we leave that for another time? I think we both need to get some sleep. No telling what Harry’ll need for us to do tomorrow. Maybe break into the Ministry? Fight a pack of giants…ya know…something easy.”

“Still better than sitting through Divination,” her deadpan sarcasm sounded so much like Ron that they were both shocked, but recovered after a beat.

Ron cleared his throat and offered his best Trelawny impression, “It is time! Time to close your mind’s eye! The time for sleep is at hand!”

Through a fit of restrained giggles, Hermione picked up her discarded book and followed Ron to the staircase.

“G’night.”

“Good night.” Before he had made it to the third step, she called after him, “Ron?”

He turned to look back at her, “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?” He really had no idea what she could be thanking him for.

“For…well, for just understanding,” she turned and dashed up the stairs before he could reply.

But, in that moment, he did understand. There were so many confusing things that he was going through: with school, with his family, with Harry, with Hermione, but he knew that if there was anyone in the world that knew what it was like, what was on his mind, it was her. He also knew, although he couldn’t quite admit it to himself yet, if the task had been his, exactly who would have been waiting for him at the bottom of that lake.

[hogwartsclassof1978]

force of Love

August @jilychallenge

@hogwartsclassof1978 vs. @liiilyevans

PROMPT: they were duelling death eaters and slowly losing until he felt a forcefield go up around him as lily shouted a fierce "nO" and blew the 5 death eaters surrounding him off their feet  - she was angry that they had attacked but my gODRIC she looked so much angrier that she had to save her moRON of a boyfriend from a battle on their anniversary

 2.1k clumps of letters

-

She woke up to the sound of rustling sheets and opening drawers. Peeking an eye open, she found her boyfriend pulling a shirt over his head, struggling to keep his glasses on in the process. She smiled to herself, finding his helplessness endearing, and sat up, stretching her arms and back.

“G’morning,” she mumbled, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

“Good morning, love,” he replied, smiling over his shoulder to her. There was nothing he loved more than Lily in the morning, her vibrant hair falling all over creation and light hitting her eyes in that way.

Lily reached over to their bedside table-- almost falling off the bed in the process-- and turned the clock towards herself. She groaned, falling back onto her pillows .“Bloody hell, James, what are you doing up already?”

He laughed, coming over to sit on the bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “8:30 really isn’t all that early. Besides, it’s a special day today, we have to make use of the daylight while we still have it.”

“Believe me, at this rate we’ll have more daylight than we know what to do with. Besides, how is today special?”

“Well,” he started, a wide smile spreading across his face, “Today marks our two year anniversary.”

“James, dear-” he interrupted her with a snigger which she countered with an eyeroll- “Love, It’s only July, we’ve been dating for only, what, seven months? And here I was thinking you’re good at maths.”

“No, not our two year anniversary of dating, our two year anniversary of you deciding we could, well, should, be friends,” he replied. “I reckon it’s one of the best bloody days of my life. Y’know, only behind when you asked me out, or when you first proper snogged me, or our first time--”

“I get the picture,” Lily interjected, effectively cutting him off. She pushed herself up and tilted her head, pressing her lips softly against his. “And it was a pretty good day for me too.”

The genuine smile that he sported quickly turned to a smirk. “You did become friends with James Potter.”

“You prat.” She said, unable to cover up the laugh behind her words. “Go make yourself useful and make some toast.”

As the tall boy walked out of the room, Lily couldn’t help but admire the view of James in nothing but his pants and shirt. I really do love the tosser, she thought, pulling herself out of bed and making her way down to have breakfast with her boyfriend.

---

After hours of time spent with chats and exploding snap and other activities, Lily decided that she quite liked this friendiversary. Granted, she liked most any time spent with James, but it still felt special. Of course, the day was going far too well for it to end nicely. That just couldn’t happen.

It was around seven that Frank Longbottom’s patronus--a salmon--appeared in their living room. The silvery mass caused the two teens to look up from their game of muggle cards, one that Lily had been trying to teach James for ages. After a moment, sound, the voice of Frank,  was projected from the fish in an incomplete sentence.

“Knew about stakeout, need backup at diagon asap.” As soon as the message was complete, the patronus melted away into thin air, the voice reverberating in the silent cottage. The silence persisted for a few seconds but was broken when both James and Lily spoke at the same time.

“I’m going”

“Don’t even think about going.”

James sighed, “Lily, someone has to go help, and merlin knows I don’t want you getting hurt.”

The redhead glared at him. “First of all,” she started, “I am perfectly capable of protecting myself and I bloody well hope you get that through your head because if you plan on stopping me every time there’s a hint of danger then, then-”

At this point, Lily was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed with anger. Her boyfriend interjected before she worked herself into a stupor. “Lily, you know I know that you’re perfectly capable of defending yourself.”

“Fantastic,” she replied dryly, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, we can move on to my second point.”

“Your second point?”

“Yes, my second point.” She said it as though it was obvious, though James looked increasingly more confused. “You won’t be going.”

His confusion very quickly turned to exasperation. “Lily, I’m going to help out.” His hand jumped to his hair. “We can’t just leave them to fend for themselves!”

“Well, obviously.” She rolled her eyes. “But might I remind you that in your last mission you fucked up your shoulder pretty badly. You’ll be resting here while I go fight the bad guys.”

“Lily-”

“Don’t you Lily me.” She shrugged on a light jacket, shoving her wand in the deep pocket. “We both know you’ll be useless in battle, and you better be here when I get back.” With that, she pecked him on the cheek and ran out the door, the pop that followed ringing in James’ ears.

Alright, he thought, sitting down. Lily can fend for herself. I can stay out of it just this once. I can.

---

As soon as Lily apparated to diagon alley, it was clear to her that they were outnumbered, even with reinforcements popping up. She found herself duelling almost immediately, throwing curses and charms at a young woman with dark, curly hair. It was clear that the opposing death eater wasn’t holding back, but Lily, being the skilled witch she was, held her back, fending off multiple unforgivables. It seemed the muggle-born was about to win when, with a dark look, the other witch disapparated.

“Bloody coward,” muttered Lily. She took off running towards the thick of the battle, hoping to help. Once she got there, time seemed to turn into a blur of spells and shouts, of falling order members and death eaters. Lily seemed to be a different world, unaware of anything except who she was battling, until she noticed one person battling five death eaters at once. Disarming her opponent, she ran over to the young man, throwing curses over her shoulder.

As she neared the face of the order member, she was able to make out a mop of black hair and square glasses. For some reason, she was seeing the face of James Potter, who was supposed to be at their home and not battling death eaters.

Lily stopped in her tracks, panting from running (and from anger). It was obvious the boy was losing, and frankly, she was tempted to just let the tosser perish. Should have stayed home if he wanted to live, the prat. As she was deciding what to do, a green curse was aimed at James’ back.

Time seemed to slow. James hadn’t noticed the curse and Lily was frozen in place. It wasn’t until the laugh of the man who had shot the spell, with pale skin and glowing red eyes, that Lily came to her senses. Wrenching her shoulder up, she yelled a loud “protego” in the direction of her boyfriend.

The force of the spell blew all five death eaters off their feet, throwing them against neighboring walls. James turned around to look for his savior and his eyes widened at the sight of his girlfriend standing a few feet away from him. Her chest was heaving and eyes clouded with anger. He decided she had never looked more terrifying or beautiful in that moment.

“Lils-”

“Do not say a thing,” she hissed, seething with anger. “We are going home.”

“But what about the battle-”

“They have the battle under control.” And she was right. James looked around, finding each death eater matched against two or three order members. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder has Lily pulled him up.

“Ah, Lily, my shoulder--”

“Fuck your shoulder,” She replied, her grip tightening as she apparated them home.

---

By the time James was shutting their front door behind him, Lily was slamming the bedroom door. With a sigh of resignation, James sat himself on the couch, hoping to allow Lily to cool off a bit before talking. Needless to say, he was quite impatient and lasted a whole five minutes before getting up to knock.

As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open revealing a flustered version of his girlfriend. Before he could get a word out, she held up a small hand.

“I am furious at you,” she started, taking deep breaths between words. “So don’t talk to me right now. I know you’re impatient and want to talk this instance but I can’t.”

He grinned at her. “You know me too well.”

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly but was almost instantly forced back into a scowl. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this, James Potter. You can’t just do that, y’know, grin or whatever and top it off with a snog. I’m mad.”

“That sounds like a nice plan to me,” he responded with a smile. Again, her mouth quirked at the corner.

“See, this-” she gestured at his face- “is what I’m talking about!”

“C’mon, Lily, I just wanted to help-”

“That’s exactly the problem,” She exclaimed.

“My problem is that I want to help?”

“The problem is that you can’t let someone else help! I was going, I was helping, but you have this, this fucking hero complex where you cannot bloody fathom sitting back for once.”

“Oh, so now it’s a crime to want to crime to want to help? Well forgive me for having a heart.”

“You’re injured! You can’t even do the dishes without wincing, never mind battling five death eaters at once.”

“But-”

“No, stop. The last thing the order needs is one of their top members being blown to pieces because they wouldn’t let their body heal properly.”

“Better me than two other people! I can’t just sit aside while people die, Lily.”

“James, what about me,” she replied, voice shaking and only just barely above a whisper. “What the bleeding hell would I do if you died? Every extra mission you volunteer to go on, merlin, I’m about two duels away from a nervous breakdown!” Lily wiped furiously at her eyes, willing her tears to go away. Mad was okay, but sad? That was a whole different story

James pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. “M’sorry,” He mumbled into her hair. “I’m just so bloody scared of losing you that I feel like I have to fight more because the last thing we need is a longer war where you’re a constant target.”

Pulling away, Lily looked up at James, a small smile on her face. “We’re a mess, aren’t we,” she said, sighing. “You’re about to get yourself killed so I don’t die and I don’t want to live in a world where you aren’t.” She giggled. “I think we might be going mad from love.”

James looked down at her, an odd sort of look in his eyes. He was silent, just staring, for a few seconds, until he broke it.

“Marry me.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Marry me,” he said, more confident this time.

“James, we’re only eighteen, we can’t get married.”

“Well, why not? I don’t plan on breaking up with you and who knows where we’ll be in ten years. I love you, Merlin, do I love you and it won’t be any different than now, except we can do our taxes together.”

Lily quirked an eyebrow at her boyfriend. “Do wizards even have taxes?”

“No, I just saw something about it on that telly thing you had at your house and decided to read about them. Your entire government is a bit insane, y’know.”

She smiled at him, eyes crinkled at the corner and shining like she had just captured the sun. “Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes. To marrying you, that is. For the sake of the taxes, of course.”

He beamed at her, eyes twinkling and smile threatening to split his cheeks. “You’re marrying me. Lily Evans is marrying James Potter.”

She laughed at him, putting her arms around his neck. “Sirius might throw a fit.”

“Well,” he started, pulling Lily closer by her hips, “Sirius will get over it.”

With that, she pulled his head down to kiss him, to kiss her fiancé, and for the first time in quite a while, she could see a future.  

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

War Drabble Series: Part VII (for tumblr)

It was entirely too soon that his mother's house elf, Tilly, was requesting his presence. He sent her away and began the task of waking up his daughter, who was still fast asleep in the crook of his arm. "Rhea," he gently jostled her, "It's time to wake up."

The tiny girl yawned and stretched her arms above her head, hitting him in the face with one of her hands. "Sorry." she giggled, and he couldn't find it in himself to be upset. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Morning."

He smiled and fluffed her messy hair. "Good Morning." He was surprised she hadn't woken up crying for her mum. Perhaps she was still in shock? Or maybe she still viewed this as a temporary thing?

Either way, he was grateful that he hadn't needed to deal with tears first thing in the morning.

"I'll be right back." He said, getting up. "I'm going to get your things."

She just smiled tiredly. "Ok."

Draco returned with her bag and set it down next to her. "You need to get dressed. So pick out something to wear. We have to go."

She opened the bag and started ruffling through it. "Where are we going?"

"Do you remember the lady that we saw last night?" She nodded. "She is your grandmother and she's asked me to introduce her to you this morning. We are to have breakfast with her."

"Grandmother?"

"Yes, my mother. Did you ever meet your other grandparents?"

"I have a gran and a pop but I haven't seen them in a long time."

There was probably a rather depressing reason behind that. "Well, she is kind of like them."

"Oh." She hummed thoughtfully to herself and pulled out a teal blue sweater with white stripes and began the process of getting dressed.

Draco sighed and went about shedding his own night clothes in his large walk in closet. He quickly put on his normal brand of trousers and grabbed a dark gray button up. He headed back out towards her as he pulled an arm through the sleeve.

"What's that on your tummy?"

Startled by her voice, Draco stopped and looked down at her, then at the silvery scars along his stomach. He traced over them with his fingers. "They're scars I got a long time ago," he told her honestly.

"Uncle Harry has a scar. It still hurts him. Does your hurt too?"

It does when I think of your infuriating uncle, he wanted to say. "No, it doesn't hurt anymore," he said, quickly buttoning up his shirt. "But listen, Rhea. I know you love your uncle, but it's best that you don't talk about him anymore."

"Why?"

He had to tread carefully. He didn't want her to slip and say anything but he also didn't want to scare her. And the last thing he wanted to bloody do was obliviate her. He'd avoid that at all cost.

"Daddy doesn't have very nice friends and they don't like your Uncle Harry. If they knew you liked him they would very mean to you."

"If they are mean then why are they your friends?"

He sighed in defeat. "Well, they're not exactly my friends….more like... co-workers...people I work with."

"Like Uncle Ron and Harry?"

Salazar, grant him patience. "No, it's a little different than that, so when we are in the presence of other," he paused, rephrasing "When there are people besides me and you there, you mustn't talk about your Uncle or Aunts, even in the Mano- er- the house."

"How come?"

"Because it's very important to keep them a secret. They have to be a secret here."

"Why?"

Oh no. More questions. Did they ever end? "Because as I said earlier, people would not be happy about it. They'd be very nasty to you."

"Ok."

That's it? Just ok? "So they're a secret." he reiterated.

"I won't talk about them. Only with you."

"Good girl," he smiled and finished dressing and helping her put on her shoes. Looking at her jeans and sweater, she reminded him so much of her mother, especially the curly mop of hair. He figured he should probably do something about that before going downstairs. His mother was already sure to have a conniption with what she was wearing, so he quickly magicked her hair into a messy bun. It wasn't perfect but it would do. "Let's get some breakfast."

Narcissa Malfoy was already seated at the dining table when he shuttled Rhea into the room, though his father was notably absent. She didn't look at her son when he entered, her eyes were firmly set on the little girl he was helping into the chair nearest to her.

"Oh, Draco." He raised a brow at her soft tone and teary eyes. "She looks just like you. She's beautiful."

"Yes, well I did try to tell you last night. Though, I suppose the lighting is better here."

She frowned at his snippy response but let it go, turning her complete attention to the girl looking around the room in wonderment. He realized that she probably hadn't seen anything as big or fancy as the manor before.

"Rhea," he said, sitting down beside her, "this is my mother, Narcissa, but you can call her-"

"Grand-mère." His mother smiled brightly and reached out her hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Rhea."

She nodded and gently shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"How old are you?" she asked.

She held up four fingers. "I'm four. My next birthday I'll be five."

"And when is that, dear? Do you know?"

"June twenty-three."

That was pretty damn close to his own birthday.

"Oh, that's coming up soon. A couple of months."

"Mummy says I'll be a big girl."

"Indeed you will," the older witch agreed and began making the girl a plate herself, instead of relying on Tilly. "Do you prefer jam or butter?"

"Jam, please!"

Draco watched his mother smother a croissant with blackberry jam. It had been awhile since he'd seen her so attentive.

"Are you going to eat, daddy?"

He moved to grab his own pastry. "Of course."

"There you are," Narcissa motioned for Rhea to take a bite.

Her eyes widened as she chewed. "This is the best ever!" She exclaimed after swallowing. "Almost better than daddy's scones."

His mother just smiled and sipped her tea, watching the little girl eat her croissant and jam. For being so young and living with Potter of all people, she actually had decent table manners and always said please and thank you. He shouldn't be that surprised though. Granger wasn't rude, despite being raised by muggles. Obviously, even they'd had decent social protocol it seemed.

After they'd finished eating he decided that he needed to speak with his mother but was hesitant to do so in front of Rhea. He was equally as hesitant to let her out of his sight though. "Would you like to go outside?" he asked her, knowing he could keep an eye on her from the terrace.

"Yes, please!" She screeched excitedly.

He put on her coat from the night before and then led her out to the back patio overlooking the first garden. She bounded down the stairs and ran right up to a lilac bush, fingers lightly touching the tiny petals. "Flowers are pretty."

"They are," he agreed, coming to a stop behind her.

"Mummy gots me white flowers for my birthday. We made flower crowns with Aunt-" she paused and looked up at him and his mother, eyes widening as she remembered her promise, and started the sentence over. "We made flower crowns. Mummy looked really pretty. More pretty than the flowers."

A vision of Hermione with long bouncy locks and a ring of calla lilies atop her head entered his mind and he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "I'm sure she was."

"You think Mummy is pretty too?"

"Of course," he insisted, "She's the prettiest witch I know."

His mother made an unflattering noise behind him but he ignored it.

"Next time we sees her, you have to tell her that."

The thought of seeing her again made his stomach flutter. Merlin, he'd love to see her again, but the world and fate itself were cruel. "I promise. The next time I see your mum, I'll tell her how pretty she is."

"Good. She would like that."

"I need to talk to your grand-mère now, so why don't you go play in the gardens? Tilly will go with you."

"I can play outside?" He nodded and a happy grin took up half of her face. "I never get to go outside long. It feels nice. And it's bright and lots of colors are here."

Now his mother made a noise of distress at the notion that her granddaughter had most likely spent all of her time inside, what she would assume to be, a brothel.

His heart clenched with the truth. Even the bastards that lived in whorehouses probably had more freedom than what his daughter had had.

"Yes. You can play outside. Just stay where I can see you."

She didn't answer, instead, she took off running, stray hair falling out of her bun behind her. Of all the things to inherit from her mother. No, he was rather fond of her hair, to be honest. Perfection was overrated.

"Little Miss!" Tilly called, chasing after her. "Wait for Tilly!"

He turned back towards the house and walked up the steps, following his mother until she stopped. Wistfully she looked out over the terrace and watched the girl frolic through the flowers, the elf only two steps behind her. "She's wonderful, darling."

"I'm glad you approve-" he began.

"But what in Merlin's name is she wearing?" she asked with distaste.

Leave it to his mother to be concerned about that, not that he hadn't already known. He was surprised it had taken her this long to comment. "Let us not forget where it is she came from."

"Just because I know, doesn't mean I'm still not startled by the lack of attire befitting a girl."

"I give you free reign to dress her however you want, mother."

"There was no question to that, dear." She chuckled quietly. "Sometimes I feel the need to still dress you."

"And what's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Absolutely nothing. It's just rather...drab, isn't it?"

"I don't suppose you've noticed but we are in still in a war. It's not like we are hosting galas and going to Opera's."

"True," she replied, "Though your complexion may look a bit better if you'd wear something other than black."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll make sure to add some green and blue to my wardrobe if it so pleases you."

"It does." She smiled, and he could tell how relaxed she'd become talking about something so simple as clothing. It had probably been a long time since she'd spoken so freely with anyone. It made him feel a bit guilty. Especially because he was about to make things uncomfortable again.

"I couldn't help but notice father was nowhere to be seen." He watched her mouth tighten.

"I wanted to meet her first before I spoke with him. I'm sure you understand how delicate this situation is."

"I do. That is why I will let you handle him. It might come down to a duel if you left it up to me."

"Why must you fight with your father, Draco?" She asked rather curtly.

"I don't know," he lied, "He irritates me on the best of days and is downright loathsome on the worst."

"If this is about the Inner-"

"It's not," he insisted, "At least not on my part. He may be cross that I've outranked him, but I don't let that get to my head. I've never goaded him over the fact."

She sighed, no doubt upset that her husband and only son seemed to always be at odds and there was nothing she could do about it. "In any case, we must approach him cautiously with this news."

He agreed and was quiet for a moment as he watched Rhea hiding from Tilly. The morning sun shone brightly on her blonde hair, making it almost glow as she jumped out from behind a rose bush. The elf actually smiled and chased the girl around the stone bench closest to them. The sound of Rhea's angelic giggles drifted over to him and he lost his senses for a moment. Everything took on a dream like hue as he stood there, transfixed on the happy scene. Looking at her now, he could almost forget that they were in the middle of a war. He could almost forget that he was planning the fall of his lord. He could almost forget the sad cry she let out when she realized she was leaving the only life she'd ever known. He could almost tear tracks that had lined Hermione's face as she walked away from them. He could almost forget that he'd only known this new love in his chest for 12 hours. He wished he could forget. Maybe then it would be easier to believe in the fairy tale that they'd be a family one day.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

His mother broke him out of his thoughts. Obviously, he'd been quiet too long. "Can I speak freely?" She motioned for him to continue. "I'm worried," he admitted. "I told her mother that she'd be safe with me, and part of me believes that. But are any of us truly safe?"

"Draco-"

"I have to protect her," his hand rubbed at the mark on his arm, hidden by his shirt, "I have to protect her from them, from all of this."

"It isn't as daunting of a task as you'd imagine." She replied, patting his arm. "You've lucked out with her countenance. She is the spitting image of you so no one can question her paternity. The only thing we must keep information control over is the maternity. I can fake a birth certificate and I owled your cousin Irene this morning to see what we can do about naming a mother."

He was left speechless. He knew his mother was clever and resourceful, but he hadn't imagined she'd be so quick about this, or that she'd want to help. It still shocked him that she wasn't angry with him. She even looked rather fond of Rhea, which was understandable because she was bloody adorable, but she was a half-blood. It was unthinkable that she'd be so accepting. Perhaps she was more like him, and less inclined to dismiss all those outside their pure-blood circle. "That was fast."

"We have to get ahead of this, darling. You never know who will be sticking their nose in your business. You're an important player in our Lord's game. You don't need me to tell you how dangerous that makes your life."

"No, you certainly don't."

"Your father is our first hurdle, after that, you will need to focus on his group of friends, and yours. Eventually, you will have to introduce her to the Inner Circle."

Fear shot up his spine at the thought, but he knew it was inevitable. "I'm aware."

"You just continue doing what you've always done. You keep your back straight and have confidence in your abilities. The only one with any authority to do anything would be the Dark Lord. As long as we don't make a great fuss about it, he should have no reason to question it further after we present him with proof."

Circe, he hoped she was right. He didn't want his daughter anywhere near the evil wizard.

"I guess we'll just have to take it a step at a time."

"It will be fine, Draco."

"I hope you're right, mother." He clenched his jaw and swallowed down the dread that was quickly consuming him. "I hope you're right."