#not only did i get home late but i got stuck finishing the potion event

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 5.1}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend… and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

There was a major difference in the way Robin approached this summer break in contrast to the last years. The dread that usually overcame her even before she stepped onto the train back to London was still very much present and accompanied by a deep sadness at the prospect of not being able to have coffee with Snape every night, but she didn’t feel quite as desperate about the length of the break. This year, she actually had something to look forward to.

It had come as a surprise on her last evening at school, when she had been talking to Snape about summer plans, that he had handed her a letter that had originally been addressed to him. At first Robin had been understandably confused why he’d given it to her, but after a moment of explanation, things had started to make sense. It was an invitation to a one-day conference in London, taking place two weeks into the holidays. According to him, it was an ‘insignificant’ event with a series of lectures and discussions about anything related to the overall subject of potion making. While the invitation was meant for Snape himself, he had made it rather clear that he had no interest in attending and thus wanted to give Robin the opportunity to listen to some of the lectures if she cared to go in his place. Obviously she’d been absolutely delighted by the possibility, and assured him that she would do her very best to lay low and make a good impression for once. He’d told her where to be on which day, then spoken a brief warning about some people he couldn’t stand but who likely would be attending, and at last they had changed the topic, talking about the book Robin had just finished that day.

On the train ride home the next day however, she had wondered if he really didn’t want to attend or if he merely wanted to give her the chance to go in his place, but seeing as she couldn’t answer that question, she had let it go after a while of pondering. But she did take pride in the fact that he obviously believed she would understand whatever would be talked about at this conference, and even more that he trusted her to not embarrass him in his absence. She would definitely try to learn as much as possible from this event, and be noticed as little as possible in return.

The two weeks until the anticipated day passed by slowly, but with something to look forward to, it wasn’t quite as dreadful as wishing and waiting for the end of the holidays already. Robin did actually end up telling her parents about the conference a few days before it would take place, and they seemed rather delighted about the fact that Robin was indulging in the same kind of academic endeavours they themselves thrived in so much. To be honest, Robin had merely told them because spending the entire day in London meant that she would be home very late if she took the train after the last lecture would be over, and she didn’t want them to worry. They however seemed fairly unbothered by the fact that their daughter would be out and about in the middle of the night, and Robin gave up on trying to get them to take interest in her person as much as they did in her 'career’. Thus they merely talked about proper behavior at an event like this, how to ask questions without being rude or make suggestions without sounding braggy, and Robin did in fact appreciate the advice for once. Who knew… maybe it applied to the wizarding world just as much as to the muggle world.

When the day finally arrived, Robin was nervous and delighted at once. Seeing as she would indeed have to stick to public transportation like the muggle she was pretending to be during the holidays, she opted for a more mundane choice of outfit too. Still, she wanted to make a good impression, and thus she chose to wear dressier clothes for once, which turned out more of a challenge than anticipated, due to an underwhelming amount of options. Eventually she ended up with a black, high waisted tube skirt that ended a little higher than a hand’s width above her knees, and an olive green blouse with long bishop sleeves which she tugged into the skirt. Paired with some dressy flats and her usual leather backpack, Robin deemed it fancy enough. Her mom also gave her approval, calling it 'appropriate enough’ for someone Robin’s age, and thus she was off to London even before it had properly started to dawn.

Finding the place where the conference would take place was actually easier than she had expected, especially if one considered that she had to rely on an ordinary, non-magical street map of London to find the correct building. This rule forbidding underage magic outside of Hogwarts was bullshit, in her eyes, but she also figured that not everyone was being as responsible with their magic as she was… so it maybe did make sense for some people. After finding the right building however, the next obstacle was being allowed in.

“Can I help you?” The first person she tried to simply walk past, once inside the entrance hall, already stepped into her path.

“I have an invitation for the conference.” Robin replied as self-assuredly as she could, portraying nothing but calmness on the outside while yet on the inside she felt rather overwhelmed by the whole thing. Too many people, too many strangers especially, and in addition to that a place she wasn’t familiar with and a situation nobody believed she belonged into. Great…

“May I see it, please?” At least the man was polite, even if a bit too condescending for Robin’s liking. Without protesting though, she grabbed the invitation card out of her backpack and held it under his nose with an indifferent expression.

“I apologise for the inconvenience, Miss. The conference room is on the third floor. Just follow the signs and you should find it with ease.” He said after but a brief glimpse at the paper, and stepped out of Robin’s way while pointing her to the staircase.

It really was beyond easy to find the correct room by following the signs, but before she even could set foot into it, she was held up yet again by a man sitting at a table in front of the room.

“Good morning.” Robin actually addressed him first, with a polite smile, as she came to stand in front of the table. Somehow she had rather hoped that she could just sneak into this like she had done in some lectures at university in the past years… but obviously that wasn’t the case.

“How can I help you, Missy?” The older man raised his eyebrows at her with a small smile, and Robin found herself conflicted by his disrespectful way of addressing her in contrast to his kind face.

“I am here for the conference.” She stated calmly though, and handed the invite to the man in front of her.

His eyebrows rose even higher as he read over the card, before he finally turned back to Robin with a surprised face. “What does a lass like you have to do with Severus Snape? You surely know that this is his invite, don’t you?”

“Of course I am aware of that.” She bit down the snarl and kept her tone polite and neutral like the adult she was trying to be here. “I’m his… friend. He couldn’t attend and therefore sent me in his place.” There was no need to tell him that Snape had called them an old bunch of idiots and hadn’t wanted to come here because it would bore him out of his mind, was there? No, certainly not.

“From what’s said about him, he doesn’t have a lot of friends I believe.” The man mused, but handed the paper back to Robin with a smile nonetheless. “Well, he still seems to have a decent taste in people if he sent you here today, huh? What’s your name? For the list of attendees, and the name tag.”

Robin almost would’ve snorted at the statement… Snape and good with people? Best joke she’d heard in weeks. But at least she wasn’t questioned any more than that. She would’ve hated to elaborate on her 'friendship’ with her professor. One sided as it was, especially…

“Robin Mitchell.” She answered with a small smile, and a moment later accepted the sticky tag he was holding out to her. Without questioning why it only read her last name, she stuck it onto her blouse a little below her collar bone, and then was granted entrance to the room at last.

If she’d had any hope to just not be noticed before, it definitely was gone by now. The room was crowded with wizards of all shapes and sizes, mostly of the older generations, and Robin spotted exactly two females other than herself. Age and gender… first things that drew quite a few eyes to her. But then there also was the small but very obvious fact that she was the only one not wearing robes. Hell, even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have sat in the train for two hours looking like a kid dressed up for Halloween and not panic. Well… she could’ve changed once she got here. Too late for that idea now.

Many eyes followed her indeed as she walked across the room to sit down as far to the back as possible. At least there were many people scattered around the room, chatting and laughing currently; surely they would just forget that Robin was here at some point. Hopefully, if they didn’t ignore her, these people would actually treat her with some professionalism at least, even if she looked like she could be their grandchild. Well, at least she got why Snape had called them a bunch of old idiots now.

After her initial discomfort, the situation improved (fairly little at first) once the actual event began. Robin tried to somewhat keep up with the smalltalk the man next to her was trying to make, but he ended up spending more time staring at her mostly bare legs than listening to what she said in return, so she eventually just gave up on trying to converse in the first place. The lectures however were well worth the trouble, as Robin discovered, and she took plenty of notes about anything that seemed interested or useful to remember. In fact, she did understand most of what was said and even recognized a lot of it from her extensive readings. Events like this generally seemed to function more by knowledge than by experience, and Robin had theoretical knowledge in the plenty. Thus she actually had a pretty good time for the majority of the lectures, as it allowed her to completely ignore the fact that other people were present in the same room.

Only when they took a break at noon, she was approached by some people who probably only wanted to be kind and involve her in the conversation, which however served to make Robin feel rather nervous in the beginning. They asked her about her young age, of course, and she tried to politely convince them that intelligence wasn’t a matter of age, and neither was passion for a subject. At least the lunch break was spent with conversation this way, rather than awkward silence, and Robin actually found herself enjoying the polite and professional conversations they engaged in soon. Throughout the talking she got involved in however, she tried to share as little information about herself and her knowledge about potions as possible, for she feared that she would only embarrass herself anyway if she said something wrong. She was here to listen, not to talk.

That however changed drastically in the afternoon. After one particularly long lecture about medical potions and strategies of use, the following discussion was a furnace of opinions and arguments. Robin merely listened to the many arguments and counterarguments in silence, just as she’d been doing for the past few hours, and kept her own thoughts to herself. That worked rather well for her, right until the man who had held the lecture in the first place, Kenneth Crowe, said something undeniably wrong and everybody in the room seemed to agree with him. Instantly the desire to at least ask about it jumped to the very front of Robin’s mind, but she bit the insides of her cheeks to stay quiet. It wasn’t her place to say anything at all, and definitely not to correct a well renowned professional in the field. But it was such an obvious mistake… such a stupid but important little detail. And leaving it in the wrong might actually result in very much real consequences for people, especially in the medical field. 

Crowe had introduced a new kind of healing potion in his lecture, a revolutionary invention of his that might cure yet untreatable curses… and Robin believed to know that it wouldn’t work. At least not in the way he was suggesting. Bloody hell, she just wanted to tell them, but she was also desperately scared to say something stupid. It wasn’t her place to speak up, it wasn’t her goddamn place to doubt these people!!! But the knowledge that she might be right sufficed to torture her mind more with every second she didn’t at least voice the doubt. At last Robin’s mind won over her churning stomach and racing heart. She raised her hand, was called on almost immediately, and after one deep and shaky breath, she started explaining to a room full of professionals why they were wrong about the subject.

“I… would like to ask a question.” She started, hoping that her criticism wouldn’t come off as such if she phrased it this way. “You, uh… You stated that the petals of the Varilion flower are a key ingredient, and so is the essence of Canticor, yes?”

“Yes. And?” Crowe looked down at Robin from his pedestal with a humored, but undeniably deriding smile. He probably thought that she didn’t even understand a word of what they were currently dealing with… oh, how wrong he was. A bit of the reluctance to possibly insult this man fell off Robin’s mind at the stupid look on his face alone, and she decided to continue more directly.

“I just wanted to be sure I didn’t misunderstand you.” She replied with a polite little smile that was born out of her newly arising wish to wipe his own smile off his stupid face. “Because as far as I’m aware, Varilion –as a plant in the family of nocturnal vinca breeds– would very likely cancel out the effects of the Canticor which are needed here. Without the Canticor however, the entire product would likely be unstable and thus lacking the functionality you have described.”

“That’s ridiculous, I tested the potion myself and it was perfectly stable. You shouldn’t make assumptions like that without prior knowledge of the subject, child. This potion will be perfectly stable.” He almost snapped back, and a few people frowned at his admittedly harsh reply. Robin didn’t let it impress her at all; she was just getting started. Somehow, now that the dam was broken, she really didn’t mind speaking up all that much anymore.

“Well, it is stable if the potion is made in a common testing quantity as opposed to an average production size. If one would try to make a sufficient amount of it in order to be able to give it to a human being with the desired healing result, one would run into severe problems, seeing as the Varilion and the Canticor start canceling each other out at an amount that is way smaller than what would be needed indeed. Thus it is not possible to use this formula to even make enough of the potion for one single person. Which, in return, renders the potion quite useless.” People stared at Robin with all kinds of mixed and shocked expressions as she spoke, some whispering and turning pages, but she used the opportunity of having the word already to lean just a bit further out of what she had thought to be her place. “However, seeing as the core problem is merely the radically dominating nature of the vinca breed in the Varilion, I would suggest replacing it with Plangentine. As another nocturnal flower with almost the same properties, as far as I’m aware, it might make a functional replacement even in larger quantities. But that, of course, is only my humble opinion. Thank you.”

With that she shut her mouth, leaned back in her chair, and observed how about thirty jaws dropped. Geez, it was hard not to smirk. This really shouldn’t be so much fun… What she had done wasn’t exactly considered polite, even if she had phrased it politely. Her parents would be disappointed. Snape however would likely be proud. Robin decided to focus on the latter.

For the long moment that followed, nobody said anything at all, and people merely seemed to think about what Robin had suggested. When the discussion was finally continued however, every single person who contributed something spoke in favor of Robin’s opinion or at least seemed to accept it as correct. Thank goodness… she would’ve hated to feel so smug and then be proven wrong. Thus, seeing as she had done her part in voicing her doubt and wiping the stupid smile off the man’s face, Robin went back to simply listening to what was said, and meanwhile noted down the discussed healing potion in her journal, with her own suggested change. She’d have to ask Snape about it when she went back to school. Maybe they could even test it, for fun.

The rest of the afternoon flew by just as the morning had, but with significantly more glances at Robin. One time she was even directly asked for her opinion on something, which freaked her out quite a bit on the inside at least, but she still was able to give a reply everyone seemed to be accepting as a contribution as valuable as any other person’s. Maybe she had finally gotten herself out of the grandchild box in their minds after all.

After the last lecture was over, fairly late in the evening, the entire group of attendees was asked to come to the podium to pose for a photograph. At first, Robin had respectfully stepped aside to let the real attendees take the stage, but upon multiple people insisting that she had played an important role in this meeting, she had found herself among the group as well. Right in the front. Definitely not as subtle as she’d planned to be today, but seeing as she was a good head shorter than almost everyone else, it did actually make sense to put her up front. Once all pictures were taken, Robin planned to head home, but she was quickly (and more or less against her will) pulled into a discussion about the very same healing potion once more. Now, in a smaller group of far less hostile people, she felt more comfortable with repeating her suggestion and explaining how she had gotten to the realization in the first place. Many people asked for her name, her age, her profession… and some went even further and asked for her opinion on all kinds of topics related to potions and even herbology. Robin did her best to answer with knowledge and educated guesses, but seeing as she was actually taken seriously by the people who bothered to talk to her in the first place, she also didn’t hesitate to say when she didn’t know about something. In those latter cases, she asked the person she was speaking to for suggestions on books or articles on the topic, so that she could one day maybe answer their question on a more profound basis. Finally, some time after eleven at night, she made for the train back to Oxford with a long list of things to read up on, and an even longer one of people she had left an impression with.

… … …

The days after the conference were as dreadful as the summer usually was, and any opportunity to make something out of the free time stayed ridiculously absent. Thus Robin was bored out of her mind even more quickly than usual, therefore spent more time reading than likely was good for her, and generally found herself desperately wishing to be able to return to school already. Every bit the usual summer.

After two weeks of this mind numbing madness however, Robin’s days became a little more bearable with an unexpected turn of events. She was sitting at breakfast, her parents about to leave for the day, when her mom came back into the kitchen to hand Robin a letter, saying it looked like her friends from school had finally thought of her after all. Robin didn’t have the heart nor the time to tell her that she didn’t even have friends, so she just took the letter out of her mom’s hand with a quiet thank you, shrugged at the question who it was from and merely tossed it onto a stack of books in feigned indifference. Then she wished her mom and dad a nice day at work, and continued to sip on her black coffee.

However, the very second the front door fell shut and the house silent in return, Robin had the letter in her hands again and flipped it over to see her name written on the envelope in the familiar spidery cursive she’d missed seeing in the past few weeks. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know if she should be scared or excited about this letter. Both, probably. Without wasting another second, she opened the envelope with a kitchen knife and fiddled a folded piece of parchment out of it. Yup, definitely scared and excited at once. But if she was in trouble, it surely would’ve been an official school letter, right? Not just an average envelope with nothing but her name on it… bloody hell, her heartbeat was louder than the silence around her. With a deep breath, she unfolded the letter at last.

Miss Mitchell.

You might find yourself wondering what led me to write to you in between terms, and you will find the main answer to that in the envelope with this letter.

Robin stopped reading at that point and took another look into the envelope she had carelessly dropped onto the counter. There was another piece of paper in it, folded in half as well, but Robin could already tell by the look of it that it was a newspaper cutout. Once she unfolded it, she found herself both smiling and feeling too warm in the face at once. It was the photograph that had been taken at the conference, with a short article beneath it. It was nothing special, just a little text about how many people had attended and which topics had been discussed, and thus Robin found herself looking at the moving photograph for a longer moment instead. Really, she’d known that she had somewhat stood out from the crowd, but the picture made it undeniably evident. About fifty much older people in thick and flowing robes and with the most serious faces, and Robin right in the middle with her short skirt, victorian style blouse and a small smile. Oh dear… she almost dreaded going back to Snape’s letter. He surely would be complaining about her choice of clothes, but she honestly hadn’t known better. Her attire would’ve been perfectly ordinary in the muggle world. Oh well… at least the photograph was a lovely reminder of the admittedly amazing day she’d had at the conference. Careful not to crease the picture any more than the folds it already had, she put it into her most recent journal and then finally went back to the letter.

Miss Mitchell.

You might find yourself wondering what led me to write to you in between terms, and you will find the answer to that in the envelope together with this letter. The picture was published in the Daily Prophet the day after the conference. This cutout was sent to me a few days later, by an acquaintance who you should have met at the event, Patrick Isaac. I assume you are not keeping up with the news, not with the Prophet at least, which is why I decided to forward the picture to you directly. Perhaps you would like to keep the cutout, you certainly have more use for it than I do.

Furthermore it might interest you to know that Mister Isaac, together with the picture, sent me a fairly long letter to gush over a certain young witch by the name of Robin Mitchell who attended the conference with him and who obviously was rumored to be a friend of mine. I will spare you the details of his disconcertingly detailed elaborations, but overall it appears that you have earned yourself quite a few admirers among the attendees, if the other six letters that I have received in your praise are any indicator of that. It seems that you have surprised me yet again, which indeed does not surprise me at all.

However I still would like to know more about the 'remarkable incident’ involving a certain new potion that was discussed. Multiple people reference it in the context of your astonishing intellect, yet without ever elaborating on the issue. What did you do this time that rendered competent professionals quite so speechless? I expect your timely reply, seeing as you do not have further plans for the summer anyway.

Snape

Robin frowned at the last few lines, then sighed to herself and dropped the letter on the counter to make another cup of coffee first. Well, at least writing a letter would give her something to do. And writing a letter to Snape would give her something enjoyable to do indeed. A smile spread on her lips as she set the kettle on the stove. He could’ve waited until after the holidays to give her the clipping, and even to ask her about the conference, but he had sent a letter instead and that made Robin smile even more. Maybe, in some reality, he actually enjoyed talking to her too. Seriously enjoyed it, that is, not just because she kept on talking to him first. Once the kettle whistled, she added the boiling water to her instant coffee and then balanced the letter, the envelope, her book, her journal AND the coffee mug up the stairs and towards the desk in her room. She had a letter to write after all.

… … …

Robin received the next letter three weeks after she had written to Snape about her experiences at the conference. She’d been careful in her explanations to always leave some things unsaid so she would have something to tell him in person, but she had elaborated on the conversations she’d had with people he might possibly know.

This time his letter was dropped off by an owl on a Sunday evening, which almost gave Robin’s dad a seizure when the poor animal landed on the windowsill next to his armchair. Somehow muggles just couldn’t get used to the post being delivered by owls… People have used pigeons to deliver messages for decades; what was so weird about owls now?!

“Oh look, it has the same illegible handwriting on it as the last one.” Her mom smiled as she picked up the envelope that again just had Robin’s name written on it. “How come your friend didn’t write to you in the last years?”

“We, uh… we’ve only been friends since rather recently.” Robin replied evasively and snatched the envelope out of her mother’s hand. “And his handwriting isn’t illegible! It’s just… kinda squiggly.”

“If you say so, sweetie.” Her mom shrugged, and turned back towards the living room. “You must have a lot of practice deciphering his handwriting if you find it legible.”

“We work together. A lot.” Robin mused and thumbed over the rough corners of the envelope. “On… essays.”

“Well, if I had to grade his essays, he surely wouldn’t come very far.” Her dad replied with a snarky expression while he didn’t even look up from his book. “I’m surprised that you write essays in that school in the first place. Not just bunnies in top hats then, huh?”

“You are who wouldn’t come very far.” Robin whispered to herself with a roll of her eyes as she made for her room with her letter still clasped tightly in hand, not even honoring her father’s remark with a reply. Honestly, her dad wouldn’t understand a single word about anything magical at all, seeing as he made every attempt not to, nor would he ever understand that she wasn’t attending a clown’s college but a serious magical academy. And… oh bloody hell, he would probably hate Snape with a passion. Well, good thing they never had to meet. Hopefully. Unfortunately. Ugh… that crush of hers wasn’t getting any better, rather on the opposite. But she usually could ignore it pretty well these days.

With a sigh she sat down on the carpeted floor, leaning against the post of her bed as she opened the envelope at last. This letter was a lot shorter than the first, but she didn’t mind. The sole fact that he had replied even though he didn’t have to was enough to make her skin crawl in excitement.

Miss Mitchell.

I cannot believe that you told off one of the best renowned potioneers in the country, and obviously were in the right to do so. What I would give to have been a witness of the incident indeed; I have always had a rather strong distaste for that man. You will need to tell me more on the specifics of the circumstances once term starts.

Furthermore I have come to the decision that I would like you to assist me in my practical work and studies from now, seeing as I deem any other mode of teaching you insufficient and thus pointless. Your knowledge is already on an acceptable level, as you have once more proven at the conference, and I believe it is time that your practical capabilities keep up with both my standards for your work and your own. You will assist me in my work, and in return I will do my best to teach you everything I possibly can. Seeing as you have run out of books of mine to read, I believe this addition to our already prevalent nightly meetings to be in your best interest as well. I am looking forward to the new term.

Snape

Seconds ticked by and Robin stared at the letter in her hands with a positive numbness, until at last her lips curled into a smile, then a grin, and at last she felt an overwhelming excitement at the opportunity that had just opened up in front of her. Well, and the fact that he had in all seriousness written 'already prevalent nightly meetings’ without any care in the world. It was amazing how absolutely serious and yet casual he was about it. A pleasant shudder ran up Robin’s spine, all the way into her neck. He couldn’t mind her presence all that much if he suggested her to spend even more time perched into the minimal space of the laboratory with him, could he?

She had been helping out in the lab on a few occasions since their endeavour with the restored page in her third year, but it by far hadn’t been a regular thing nor one that could be described as real practical experience. While she’d been desperately wanting and wishing to do this kind of practical work with Snape again, for a multitude of reasons, she had never actually believed that she might. And now she would. God, she couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over already.

______________________________

Tags:

@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles

General Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream

[2k17cashton]

The Yule Ball (Gryffindor!Calum)

heaViLY requested

pairing: reader&Calum

warnings: a bit of heated action at the very end  ;)

word count: 6,190

Summary: second part to the triwizard tournament imagine I posted with gryffindor!calum a while ago, this time taking place at the Yule Ball. 

i suggest you read the first part before you dive into this one 

It’s been two weeks since you last saw Calum. Two weeks of little to no sleep, constant worrying and loss of points for your house because you just couldn’t focus in class. The only thing that is keeping you somehow sane are the letters you sometimes receive. It would be late at night when an owl would come, scratching at your window and delivering a messily scribbled tissue or a piece of paper ripped out of a textbook. It’s little messages, such as “Please come see me” or “My shoulder still hurts, but not as much as missing you does.” Sometimes they would be longer, if he had enough space to write, but he would mostly keep them short.

They weren’t daily letters, they came once every two or three days, but you still cherished them with all your heart. Although you hadn’t sent one back, simply because you had no idea what to say. What could you possibly say? That you’re worried? That you can’t sleep at night? That you try to keep yourself busy with books on top of books but those only make you more distracted? There are no words to describe what you truly feel. You have no idea what to say to him, sometimes you’re not even sure if you want him to come back from the hospital wing because that would mean explaining the reason you never went to visit him and the answer to that is: you simply couldn’t.

It’s weird, the whole situation, it’s just weird. What do an awkward Ravenclaw book nerd and a popular Gryffindor prefect have in common? Not much, most people would say. But the most important reason is, you don’t want to get too attached. That would mean that if he gets hurt, which he has already and most likely will again, you don’t want to suffer along with him. The pain of hurting yourself is pretty bad, but the one of seeing someone you care about hurting is a million times worse. You just wish you would have kept your distance, you would rather have the rude and cocky remarks back, than the emotional attachment.

It’s the 10th of December, which means everyone is slowly preparing for Christmas break. But this year, a lot of people decided to spend Christmas here at Hogwarts, instead of going home to their families. Why, some might ask? Two words: Yule Ball. This year it takes place on Christmas night for the first time since 1994 and it is every girl’s dream to be invited, which mostly means it’s love potion season. Lately everyone has been making a lot of orders from Diagon Alley to Hogwarts, specifically from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes where the stock on Amortentia this time of year is full. The overbearing smell of chocolate mint has been messing with your head and you just want it to stop.

Although you are not entirely sure you want to spend Christmas at Hogwarts, you promised your friends that you would be a part of the Yule Ball committee and help them. It has been helping you though, the distraction. It’s also fun, all the organizing and the making of decorations. Tonight you have to help with the hanging of posters, every person responsible for one wing of the castle.

Quickly tying your hair in a bun, you scurry down the stairs to have breakfast before class starts. Today is a good day, the sun is out and the weather hasn’t been as brutal lately as it was over a week ago. You arrive earlier than usual, so the Ravenclaw table is mostly empty, besides two or three other people. You take a seat somewhere in the middle of the long bench and pour yourself a glass of pumpkin juice, placing the old book you have been carrying around on the table. Breakfast goes by quickly as you eat your toast and block out the sound of every other student entering the Great Hall. That is until you hear the girl sitting in front of you say something to her friends that catches your attention.

“I heard he’s coming back today.” Her tone is overly excited. “They’ve kept him there for over two weeks now, it’s about time they let him come back to school.” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Who?” You mutter silently almost to yourself, but they don’t acknowledge you.

“I can’t wait for the next task, I bet he’ll win again.” Another one giggles.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for him to ask me to the ball.” The small 14 year old girl flutters her eyelashes.

“He’s so dreamy.” They all agree and sigh in unison and that just makes you even more curious.

“I can’t wait to see him in the second task!”

“Who?” You finally address a bit more loudly and they all look at you.

“Who do you think?” The blonde one rolls her eyes playfully. “Calum Hood! He’s coming back today.”

With wide eyes and a fast beating heart, you nod slowly and excuse yourself from the table, your appetite dying instantly. Walking at a fast pace down the hall, you completely ignore Peeves’ laughter and dash upstairs to the library.

 *

 You have not seen him yet, it’s already noon and you still have not heard a word from him. People talk, the word spread around quickly, you know he’s back, pretty much everyone does by this point. Sybill even came to gush and tell you he asked for you, but you told her you’d look for him later, not wanting to give her other explanations.

Breathing in deeply, you go outside and place your wand inside of your boot, stepping on the Quidditch field. This year you have finally been chosen on the Ravenclaw team and you couldn’t be happier. It took you two years of try-outs, but now you finally got your spot as a Chaser.

Stepping onto the frozen grass, you listen to what Madam Hooch has to say, trying to focus on her words, but they mostly just go through an ear and slip through the other. After she finishes, you get onto your broom and fly high into position. Not even five minutes into the game, you already manage to almost fall off your broom as one of your team mates rushes past you and you tighten your grip onto the broomstick handle.

Trying to actually concentrate on the game, you look at where the Quaffle is, the big ball being passed from hands to hands until you hear Annabelle shout your name and throw it right at you. It takes you a moment to process, but when you do, you make a quick spin and chase after it, going at a quick speed towards the Castle, catching it at the final moment, right before it could hit the window. Sighing happily, you hold the ball tight to your chest and look up to see the whole Defense Against the Dark Arts class looking at you with wide eyes. You mutter a small “oops” and try to back away, until a pair of eyes meet yours.

He looks at you with the biggest hope in his big brown eyes and parts his lips, almost as if he wants to say something, but he knows he can’t. Quickly shaking away the empty feeling in your stomach, you turn around and rush back towards the field where everyone is calling out your name. Throwing the ball towards no direction, you keep your gaze straight down, blocking out everything. Seeing Calum again is something you were totally not prepared for.

*

 When eight o’clock rolls around, you get your big stack of posters and head towards the East Wing of the Castle, with a stapler in hand and some other supplies as well. Filch let you and all the other members of the committee borrow a ladder so you could hang these posters literally everywhere. It’s not like everyone knows about the event taking place anyway.

The night rolls by quickly as you leave yellow colored posters (such an awful color by the way) behind you and you hum along to a song you could not get out of your head since summer break. Muggles have really good music, no one can deny that, and this one in particular you’re just not able to shake out of your head. You can’t wait for Christmas Break so you can go home and listen to it on repeat again.

You’ve decided that the Yule Ball is just not for you. It’s not worth missing out on your mother’s cookies or your dad’s stories about what a pain in the ass his job as a pediatrician is. It’s family moments like this that you don’t want to miss out on. You’ve only missed one Christmas, last year, when you decided that it would be fun to spend it here with your friends. And it was, but it still wasn’t as good as being home.

No one was most likely going to ask you anyway, perhaps just George Mimsey, the 5th year boy that tries so hard to fit in, but is just always left out. Come to think about it, you wouldn’t have said no if he asked, he seems like a nice kid. But now that you made up your mind about going home this Christmas, you’ll just have to ignore anything that might make you change your mind.

Climbing up on the ladder to try and hang a poster up on the wall, you still hum along to the song playing in your mind, completely unaware of the sound of steps approaching from a distance.

“Hello there, doll face.” That instantly makes you drop your stapler and over a dozen of the posters you had in your hand.

Balancing on the wall and thanking God you did not fall from ten feet in the air, you keep your eyes closed and your forehead resting on the wall in front of you, trying to get it together. The sound of his voice sent shivers through your whole body and made you squirm, your skin covering in goose bumps and a lump getting stuck in your throat. Sighing relieved from the fact that you did not just fall to your death, you open your eyes but keep them glued to the white surface of the wall, scanning over the little cracks.

“Hey, Calum.” You say quietly and finally take a look to your right.

He’s sitting there, hands tucked in the pockets of his robe, his hair ruffled and in clear need of a cut. His eyes are tired, but his face still holds a sly smile, the one he never seems to let go of.

“You’re just gonna stay there or what?” He chuckles and walks closer to where you are.

Slowly stepping down, you hold on tight so that your shaky legs don’t betray you and you bend down to pick up all the items you previously dropped. Putting the posters back in order, you get up only to come face to face with him. Taking a quick step back, your shoulder blade hits the metal ladder and makes you gasp, surely feeling the pain.

“Easy there.” He mutters and wraps his fingers around your elbow.

Trying your hardest not to look into his eyes and get lost into the touch he has onto your arm, you clear your throat and are a lot more careful this time with taking backward steps.

“So, Yule Ball, huh?” He nods his head, pointing at the posters on the walls. “Seems like fun.”

“Not really.” You mumble and look down at your shoes.

“Then why are you doing this?” He asks seeming confused but you just shrug your shoulders. He nods quietly. “So, how have you been?”

This question takes you unprepared. How have you been? Distracted is the best word to describe it, but you can’t say that to him. That would be weird. Him knowing that he’s been on your mind 24/7 for the past two weeks, obsessive much? So how have you been?

“Good.” You nod slowly, letting the word linger in the air. “You?”

“Not so good.” The empty hole in your stomach gets even bigger. “I actually just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay.” You swallow thickly and keep yourself busy, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Hey, stop that.” He places his hands on top of your shaky ones and his warm skin on top of yours makes you relax for a moment.

“Sorry.” Your voice is so quiet he almost didn’t even hear it.

“Why…” His voice is hoarse. “Why didn’t you come see me?” He sounds hurt, and you can’t help but feel guilty.

“I-I couldn’t.” You stutter out and try to take your hands out of his, but he just grabs on tighter, not wanting to let go.

“What do you mean you couldn’t?” He frowns and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I don’t know.” Your shoulders raise into a subtle shrug. “I just couldn’t, Calum.” There are no words to describe it.

It’s just this feeling you had, that if you went to see him it would mean supporting this, the fact that he is hurt and he could get hurt again anytime, and you didn’t want to encourage that. This Tournament is a deathtrap and you don’t want Calum to be a part of it, but he is stubborn. Always has been, always will be. If he is set on this, you know he’s gonna do it and there’s no turning back now. Plus, he can’t possibly back out. Once you’re in, you’re in all the way.

“I get it.” He nods probably understanding what your reasons are and looks down at your hands, slowly intertwining your fingers with his. “You told me to look for you when I came back, yet you’ve been avoiding me all day.” He exhales with a small smile playing on his lips, even though he doesn’t look amused in the slightest.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to look for me anymore.” You mutter quietly but your words don’t even make him flinch, he just leans in closer.

“Is that so?” He hums slowly and you swallow dryly, before nodding your head. “That sounds like a lie to me, gorgeous.” You can feel his hot breath on top of your forehead and it makes you shut your eyes for a moment, trying to get over the close proximity between the two of you.

“It’s not.” You deny it, your voice clearly betraying you. “You’re you, and I’m me, and we’re just not meant to be.” Trying to ignore the part in which your words rhymed, you focus on staying serious and getting your point across.

“Is that from a song?” He tilts his head slightly to the right and you sigh, trying your hardest not to roll your eyes. “I swear I’ve heard it before.”

“See? That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You shake your head, a few pieces of hair falling in front of your eyes, but you don’t bother with them. “You do this all the time! And you’re cocky and rude and I’m not like you.” You get more frustrated by the moment but he just seems like he is enjoying.

“I do what all the time?” He chuckles and brushes the hair out of your face, his fingers resting under your chin now and lifting it up so you would look right into his eyes. “What do I do, Y/N?” He whispers, plump lips still curved upwards into a smile.

“You…” You swallow hard, trying not to let him distract you. “You annoy me.” Your voice is small, not compared to how it was just moments ago and you hate yourself for it.

“Well, guess what, butterfly?” Again with the weird pet names. “You annoy me too.” You furrow your eyebrows at that, ready to shoot with a comeback, that is until he cups both your cheeks into his large palms and leans in closer, his lips almost brushing over yours as he speaks. “But you also drive me fucking wild.”

The castle is silent, the halls empty, but the sound of a heartbeat is thumping in your ears. You have no idea if it’s yours, if it’s his, but it’s a heartbeat. And it’s erratic, it’s loud and it’s breaking the thick silence. Your body is frozen, almost as if in shock, not being able to process the situation or move for a minute, but his lips are soft and that is the only thing you can focus on.

It’s not short anymore. His kiss is long and passionate and oh so warm. The heat is slowly traveling through your body as well, making you realize what is happening. He’s kissing you. And it’s wrong, it’s so wrong that it feels good. It makes you forget about it all; all the differences, the weird pet names, the rude remarks, everything. Surrounded by such an ugly reality, this is beautiful. This moment, right here, with him, it seems like the most flawless thing in the world.

After a few seconds of just staying still, frozen in space, you give in, your body melting into his, a small moan leaving your mouth, letting yourself crash into him. One of his hands travels down to your back and pulls you in close by your waist while the other is resting behind your neck, keeping your lips sealed over his. Air seems so distant right now, like it’s something you don’t even feel the need for as you both get lost into each other. He sucks down on your lower lip and it makes you gasp, your eyelashes fluttering on the top of his cheeks as you open your eyes and pull back.

“We shouldn’t-“ You begin to say but he places his thumb on top of your lips and rolls his eyes.

“Just shut up for once, will you?” Looking at him stunned, you nod your head slowly, giving in once and for all, letting your body free into his arms. And so he kisses you again. And again, and again as the night goes on.

 *

 Time passes by quickly, Christmas Eve is approaching and you are already starting to pack your bags to leave for London in a couple of days. A part of you is telling you to stay and enjoy everything you’ve worked on so hard, because organizing a ball is not easy and being a part of it would be nice, but also, there’s not really any reason for you to stay behind. Nobody invited you anyway.

After the past couple of weeks you were secretly hoping that Calum would ask you to be his date to the Yule Ball, but so far nothing came up about the event. He waits for you to sneak out every night and takes you in shadowy parts of the Castle, kisses you in hiding spots and squeezes you against the walls of small cupboards. It’s nice, it’s actually perfect, everything is as long as he is there, and after all of this, you thought he would at least try. But he hasn’t, and you can’t say you’re not feeling a little bit disappointed. But it’s probably for the better anyway.

“Y/N!” Annabelle shouts running up the stairs and barges through the door. “He’s looking for you. Again.” She says, slightly annoyed.

“He is?” You drop the books from your hands and clear your throat, composing yourself. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure you will.” Your friend rolls her eyes, but you don’t let it offend you.

Sure, Calum constantly asking your friends to deliver you messages might be getting annoying for them, but to you it means so much. Every time you hear he asked for you or that he wanted for you to know something, it gives you a tingly feeling inside. Whenever his name is mentioned, or he has anything to do with a conversation, it gives you the same sensation. Almost like an empty feeling in your stomach and a lump in your throat: it’s excitement.

You almost trip running down the stairs, but try to calm yourself down and resume on just walking at a fast pace, not wanting to seem too eager, even though you obviously are. It’s almost nine o’clock, a lot of people are gathered around the fire in the common room, and some already went to get an early night sleep. You pass by unnoticed as you sprint towards the door and out of the Ravenclaw Tower.

Stepping outside, you look around but see no trace of Calum. You walk around, whispering his name, but no answer. Was this a prank your friends pulled on you? Because if so, it’s not funny. Sighing, you walk back towards the door, ready to answer the eagle knocker’s riddle, when someone whispers from behind you.

“What’s up, buttercup?” You let out a scream and jump away, covering your face with your hands.

“God dammit, Calum, how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?” You exclaim annoyed and look at him with a frown.

“As many times as it takes.” He smiles wide and you just want to wipe that grin off his face.

“What do you want?” You sigh and drop the subject, even though it’s one of the things you always argue about.

“What? No “hello, Calum, I am so happy to see you” kiss for me?” He pouts and leans his shoulder against the wall.

“No, you’ve annoyed me.” You roll your eyes and turn around to walk towards the staircase, going to the 4th floor, towards the hiding spot you two always seem to find yourselves in.

“Come on, don’t be like that, honey bunch.” He trails right behind you, trying to catch up.

“Can you stop calling me that? It’s weird.” You mutter and take your wand out to open the door of the small closet space.

“Hey.” His voice is a lot softer this time, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and making you turn around to look at him. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You didn’t want to tell him, it’s really stupid and childish. It’s just that the thought of leaving for Christmas and leaving him behind makes you anxious. What if by the time you come back he doesn’t feel the same about you anymore? What if he invites a prettier girl to the Yule Ball and he takes her to secret places to kiss her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, just as he does with you? What if he doesn’t want to invite you to the ball because he doesn’t want to be seen with you? You’ve kept this “thing” that has been going on between the two of you a secret for the past couple of weeks, because you didn’t want the drama that came along with it from everyone else.

“Nothing.” You say quietly and shuffle from one leg to the other. “I just…” You sigh and turn around, going into the small closet and taking a seat on a cardboard box.

He follows you inside, closing the door behind him and whispering a spell, he leaves his wand on top of a shelf to light up the room. He kneels down in front of you and tilts his head slightly to the side, the thing he always does when he is confused and trying to understand you.

“You just what, peach?” Your lips curve upwards slightly at the new name he addressed you with, this one sounding foreign on his lips.

“I’m, uh, I’m leaving for Christmas.” You finally confess the thing you have been meaning to tell him for weeks now. “I’m going home to spend time with my family.”

His face seems to drop instantly and his eyes lower from your face to where his hands are resting on top of your knees. After a while he shakes his head and frowns.

“I-I, are you sure you want to leave?” His voice trembles. “I mean, I know it’s Christmas and all, but you know, I was hoping that, well…” He clears his throat.

“You want me to stay?” You ask slightly confused as to why he would want that.

“I mean, it would be great, you know, for you to be here. I like it when you’re here.” He laughs nervously. “That sounded weird, you’re here all the time. What I wanted to say was, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for weeks but I just, I couldn’t.” You place your hands on top of his, your fingers running across his knuckles trying to make him relax.

“What is it?” You ask with a slight glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“But no, it doesn’t matter, you’re going home.” He shakes his head and you grip onto his hands tighter.

“It matters to me.” You encourage him to go on, but he just doesn’t seem to get it.

“No, no, it’s okay, you’re going to spend Christmas with your family and that’s great! I bet you’ll have a lot more fun at home rather than here. Honestly, forget I even said anything.” His obliviousness starts to make you slightly annoyed.

“Calum.” Your voice is stern this time. “Just tell me.” You say, adding a quiet “please” at the end.

“Well, I-“ He trails off, sighing in frustration. “I was wondering if you’d want to go…” You frown.

“Could you stop talking like you have a potato in your mouth and actually articulate your words, please?” There is no way you could have possibly understood what he said because he didn’t even open his mouth to finish his sentence. “Calum-“

“Go to the Yule Ball with me.” He blurts out interrupting you.

With parted lips, you look at him stunned. It’s not like you weren’t suspecting this is what he was going to ask you, but now that he’s finally said it, it seems like a completely wild idea. Should you go home to spend Christmas with your family or stay here with your friends and the boy you’ve liked for almost a month now, and go to one of the biggest events Hogwarts has hosted in the past twenty years?

“Please?” He keeps on rambling. “I know you might think it’s crazy, that I’m asking you to give up on family time and stay here with me and it sounds crazy to me as well, but I just couldn’t get myself to ask you sooner. I mean, why would someone like you want to go to the ball with me, am I right?” He chuckles softly. “But, I really need someone to go with. I mean, this thing is hosted for the Triwizard Tournament anyway, so since I am one of the champions I need a date, and I don’t want to take anyone but you, because-“

“I’ll go.” You stop him and place a finger on top of his lips. “I’ll go with you, just…” You laugh slightly. “Shut up already.” His lips spread into a smile and he places a kiss on the fingertip you hold on top of his mouth.

“Thank you.” He whispers and you just nod, taking a mental note to not forget to send your parents a letter tomorrow.

Christmas at Hogwarts doesn’t sound so bad anymore.

 *

 The day of the Ball had finally come. All day everyone has been on edge, but no one was as stressed out as you and your friends. You have been constantly on your feet for the past eight hours, working and walking all across the castle, in order to make everything look perfect. You’ve probably traveled across every single hall at least three times by now, searching for whatever stuff you might need to bring to the Great Hall.

By six o’clock in the afternoon everything was almost done, the ball starting at eight. Placing your clipboard on a table you sigh and plop down into a chair, feeling in desperate need of a shower. If Hogwarts ever hosts an event this big again, you’ll make sure to stay out of it next time. But the thought of seeing all of this, all of your hard work displayed tonight keeps you going.

“Y/N!” You hear Sybill shout and you inhale deeply before looking at her.

“Yes, Sybill?” You accentuate your words, not knowing what more you could possibly do.

“We’re done, come on, let’s go get ready.” She smiles and claps her hands shortly, before sprinting away with Annabelle.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” You mutter and close your eyes for a few short seconds, before getting up with a huff and mentally preparing yourself for the five floors you have to climb up to the Ravenclaw Tower. “I sure hope this ball is worth it.”

 *

With one last glance in the mirror and a swipe of shiny gloss on your lips, you quickly slip your feet into the pretty white heels and shout at your friends that you are going to be late while the lingering smell of perfume in the air makes your nose itch.

Ushering them both out the door, you hold hands and pray that you don’t slip down the big set of stairs all the way to the Great Hall. The sound of music can be heard louder and louder as you approach your destination, the taste of cherry lip gloss lingering on your tongue from biting on your lips so much out of anxiousness. You’ve never wanted a night to be more perfect than this one and if even one small thing goes wrong you might just lose your shit.

Sybill is the first one to spot her date, Arsenius Trimble, a fellow Ravenclaw that she seems to be very smitten with. She very excitedly says she will be seeing you later, and then quickly sprints towards her partner. Anabelle still holds onto your hand as she scans the hall with big eyes.

“Martin said he’ll be waiting for me by the entrance.” She turns to you. “Do you mind if…” She trails off, probably feeling bad for leaving you behind.

“Don’t worry, Anna. Just go, have fun.” You smile and squeeze her fingers before she ushers away, blowing you a kiss on her way.

Sighing, you realize you are now all on your own at the bottom of the stairs of the Entrance Hall. You have no idea where Calum might be, but you tell yourself that waiting for a bit won’t hurt, you’ll eventually find each other. And right as his name pops up in your mind, you also spot him in the small crowd gathered in front of the oak doors leading to the ball.

He seems to have had his eyes on you for quite a while now, almost as if waiting for you to find him. He starts to make his way towards you and you take a few steps in his direction as well, hands tugging nervously at the material of your baby blue dress. He cleaned up good; his usually unruly dark curls now brushed out and styled nicely. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him wear a button up, and you have to say, it looks incredibly good on him. He looks gorgeous.

“You are…” He trails off, his hand reaching for you and you place your palm in his. “Absolutely ravishing.” His voice is low, fingers intertwining with yours, pulling you closer to his body.

“You looks quite handsome yourself.” You giggle slightly, placing your other hand on his shoulder, leaning back so you could look into his eyes.

He shakes his head for a moment, smiling and then leans his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip. His fingers skim up touching wherever they can feel skin. From your wrist, up your arm and on your shoulder, running a skillful digit down the side of your neck, probably feeling the erratic beating of your heart through your pulse. His fingertips gently graze over your jaw and the tops of your cheeks, before he leans back with a sigh and kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment.

“Come on, angel eyes.” He says, taking a step back and tugging at your hand.

It takes you a second to compose yourself, the intimate moment you shared just moments before shaking you up a bit. Falling in step with him, his arm links with yours, his eyes not once leaving the side of your face as you enter the Great Hall, the colorful disco lights illuminating the whole room. You couldn’t stop the big smile from taking over your face, the final result of your hard work making your heart flutter with excitement.

The sound of the live band slowly faded out as Professor McGonagall’s voice stops any conversation that might be going and everyone’s attention focuses on her. As she welcomes all the students and thanks everyone that took part in this year’s organizing team for the event taking place tonight, she instructs for the Triwizard champions to take their place along with their dates for the dance. You can see from the side of your eye Calum’s face slightly dropping, his lips rubbing together, something he does whenever he feels uneasy. Running your thumb over the back of his hand, you guide him towards the center of the room, where all the other pairs stood.

“Alright.” He mutters to himself, placing his arms behind your waist, hands shaking by your side. “I sure hope I don’t mess this up.”

“Stop worrying.” You quickly run a hand over his forehead, taming some of his curls back into place. “You’ll do great. Just don’t step on my feet. My shoes are white.” He chuckles lightly, his arms securing around your waist again, minus all the shaking this time and he makes sure to keep his eyes locked onto your face as soon as the music begins.

Of course, as much as he tried his best not to, somehow his shoes ended up stepping over yours nevertheless. He kept on apologizing, laughing at your annoyed expression every time, the act clearly easing his nerves. His lip gets tugged between his teeth as he carefully spins you around, making sure to take notice this time of the distance between your feet. You smile in content at him and slowly run your fingers over his shoulder in a comforting way.

“Everyone’s looking at us.” You whisper to him and he chuckles.

“No, everyone’s looking at you.” He whispers back and tugs you a bit closer towards his body by your waist.

“Why, is there something wrong?” Your eyes widen slightly. “Do I have something on my face?” He shakes his head, eyes scanning over your face for a few seconds before he whispers again.

“You’re the most gorgeous girl in the room.” His voice is soft, the hot breath of his words exhaling onto your forehead. “Everyone’s bound to stare.”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment, the music ending and stopping your feet into place. All the students clap and cheer, professor McGonagall inviting the rest of them to join you on the dance floor. Your hand is still clutched into Calum’s, sweaty fingers not letting go as his arm stays wrapped securely around your waist.

“But nobody gets to touch.” The tone of his voice is now raspy, fingers pushing slightly into your waist, the material of your dress twisting under his touch. “They all know that you’re mine.” His lips grace the lobe of your ear and then press a lingering kiss to the back of it.

Calum breaks off your embrace, leaving you flustered and shaken up, hand tugging you towards his body again, spinning you around as he begins to do some of his silly dance moves to the beat of the now modern music. You laugh and join him, dancing the night away as his hands just can’t seem to leave your body the whole time. And there is no way you’re going to complain about that.

 *

 The door is loudly shut behind you, your heels falling down on the floor with a clatter. The small place is illuminated by the end of your wand, the blue light engulfing the small place. Heavy panting is the only sound to be heard over the bass of the music still thumping downstairs. Your hair lost the perfect shape of its curls, now wrapped between Calum’s fingers as he tugged you as close as possible to him. Teeth biting at the visible skin of your neck, his tie coming undone and his jacket falling onto the floor. It’s a mess of tangled limbs, needy tugs of fingers and filthy words whispered into your ear. The material of your dress is dragged up your hips and your legs wrap around his waist, thighs attempting to squeeze together in excitement at the words leaving his mouth.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

A/N: eeEEk it’s finally here sorry for the long wait

other writings

request here

[spiralatlas]

GCAP (Game Connect Asia Pacific) 2017 Day 1

I’m in Melbourne for GCAP and PAX Australia, and GCAP started today.

Sadly things were cut short by me BREAKING MY WHEELCHAIR in a DOOMED QUEST FOR A SMOOTHIE. I got a replacement, but it was a hassle and I needed to go rest afterwards. But what I saw of GCAP was good!

Below: descriptions of talks by Steve Gaynor and Karla Zimonya (creators of Gone Home and Tacoma) and by David Gaider (narrative designer on Dragon Age), plus misc other conference things.

There were three introductions, all about How Great The Melbourne Games Scene Is and how Everyone Is Friends And Awesome.

Keynote: Steve Gaynor and Karla Zimonya from Fullbright Games: The names didn't mean much to me but then I realised THEY'RE THE PEOPLE WHO MADE GONE HOME AND TACOMA :D

The theme of GCAP this year is The Ripple Effect, and the theme of this talk was how people connect and affect each other.

Steve and Karla met as part of the team for Bioshock 2. Karla was a researcher, and Steve a level designer, and when they were in those roles they didn't interact. But they both finished their assigned tasks and asked around for other things that needed doing, which led them both to the massive task of writing all the little bits of extra dialogue around things like what enemies say when they attack, flavour text on objects, optional little stories told through random audio diaries etc. They made a great team (Steve as writer and Karla as editor) and got really into it. I think you can totally see how this grew into their later approach to games.

The company 2KMoran being willing to let them develop like this was part of them being a good company, with many ex-employees who have gone on to make interesting games.

Steve then got to design his own DLC, and went I MUST BRING IN KARLA. And after they did that, and Bioshock 2 was done, they created Fullbright and started working on Gone Home.

At some point Steve encountered some cool Bioshock fanart and became mutuals with the artist on twitter. Since she was a lesbian, he asked her if she'd be up for discussing things to help with the game. She brought along her wife for an extra point of view. The wife turned out to be a 3D artist, and both of them ended up hired to work on the game.

David Gaider: Creating a World and Making it Stick

So this was like 50% general advice and 50% morality tale about the Hubris Of The Writer Who Thinks His Worldbuilding Stands Alone.

Basically he created all the basic Thedas worldbuilding by himself, then told the rest of the team, and worked with his writers, and never checked in to make sure the game worked as a whole until it was Far Too Late.

He was trying to create a relatively grounded, dark, realistic story...and the art team was making orcs and bikini armour. He had lore about the mages being too oppressed to learn offensive spells or do anything flashy in public, while the gameplay team was implementing fireballs, and specialisations like Reaver which were not connected to the worldbuilding at all. And by the time these incompatibilities became apparent everyone was committed and refused to budge. So the final game is a hodge podge of inconsistent parts that all make sense individually but don't fit together.

Now my general notes:

He scrawled out the original Thedas map on paper the same way he would for a D&D game (his original draft looked very Middle Earth-ish in style), expecting someone who knew geography would go through and fix the rivers at some point. They did not.

One lesson he learned is that you can't just throw pages of worldbuilding at people and expect them to both read and be engaged with it. You have to have a "razor", a short description of the core of the game, and make sure everyone understands what it is. Anything that doesn't fit the razor gets cut. For example, DA2 had themes of The Price of Freedom, Family, and All Things Change. And you have to sell them on why your worldbuilding elements are interesting, and what makes them cool. Once the art team understood what darkspawn were they got invested and redesigned them to not just be orcs.

Remember to feel: Don't just come up with the history of your city: what is it like to visit, is it loud and friendly and sunny or oppressively silent?

Pick your battles: choose the parts of your worldbuilding you really value and emphasise those, be willing to let the others go, especially if it’s to follow changes that make the game more fun. The game being fun is the final aim, your worldbuilding is just a tool to get there.

He got confused by his cursor a lot :)

One good thing about the DAO worldbuilding is that he didn't know where it would be set at first, so worked out all the history for everywhere, and that added lots of depth.

Names are the devil, totally subjective so everyone argues about them and hates any new suggestion. Many names for DAO were bandied about, like "Chronicle". He has a rule to never put Shadow, Dark or Blood in a list of possible names or the publishers will go THAT ONE.

His two rules: 1) People aren't allowed to complain about a name unless they have a better suggestion. 2) Wait six months. Chances are people will be used to it and not mind any more.

When the Grey Wardens were first suggested they were supposed to be pretty minor, based off the rangers in Tolkein. So they got named the White Rangers, but that was too similar, so White Wardens, but that wasn't morally grey enough, so: Grey Wardens! Which was fine until they turned out to be important, people suggested "cooler" names like Blood Knight Brotherhood/Lords of War/Disciples of Pain (not sure if he was joking) but he waited six months and took a vote and lo, the old name stuck.

Track your changes.

Have an elevator pitch (not the same as the razor) If you can't come up with one your concept needs work.

Question your biases. He was originally inspired by Middle Earth and D&D, and his own ideas of Medieval Europe...all of which are way too white. Some of this could be fixed in later games, but the world he created closed off a lot of possibilities (he didn't say any examples but I guess he meant, like, Africa and Asia equivalents)

When he took inspiration from Jews and Romani for the elves he thought he was being very clever, and only later realised that this created all sorts of unfortunate implications, since now anything that happens to elves seems like a statement about those cultures.

He was happily surprised to be able to include bi characters in DAO.

The writers were all pretty happy with how they'd handled gender in DAI, then the Voice Over person was like "why are the vast majority of our lines for men?" and they realised they'd all made most of their background characters men for no reason.

At the start it's hard to walk the line between a long, boring, exposition heavy intro, and players getting confused by lack of explanation. (It felt like he wished players would just be smarter lol) He said "If DAO had started at Ostagar then the PC's backstory would have felt irrelevant" which made me think "So like DAI?".

Players have to know why to care about an event before it happens, or the emotional reaction will fall flat.

When you introduce the first member of a group, they should be fairly typical so the player gets a feel for the default. For example, Sten is a pretty typical Qunari. Only after that can you introduce outliers like The Iron Bull.

Every main character the player interacts with (for a RPG, the party members) should represent a different interesting facet of the worldbuilding.

They didn't think DAO would get sequels, and thus had those wildly differing epilogues. He isn't sure he'd change letting the player died, since it was a cool moment. But it was certainly inconvenient to deal with later.

They had a rough idea of how the history of Thedas would continue after DAO "but no plan survives contact with the enemy, in this case I guess that's EA" loll

Having player decisions affect so much has been a bit of a nightmare.

Card tricks in the dark: if you do something clever and the player doesn't notice, it doesn't matter.

If the enemies drink potions and it's not obvious they're doing it, it just looks like the AI is cheating. If a choice affects the plot but this fact isn't made clear, players will just think that's how the plot always goes. Need to heavily lampshade that this is the consequence of that choice. And keeping track of all the possibilities gets ridiculous with characters like Alistair, who can be any one of dead/king/a drunk etc.

The players who DO pay attention to these changes tend to want way more reactivity than is practical. So nobody is impressed. And most new players found the save game editors confusing and off putting. He thinks perhaps it would be better to have a smaller number of major choices.

He's not going to judge other writers but the HUGE changes at the end of the Mass Effect trilogy mean they can now no longer set anything in that galaxy again.

Question time!

Something about the process leading to Krem being written. He talked about the bad stuff previously, and them realising they'd screwed up. A trans fan on the forums said "Could we have a trans character who isn't a sex worker or the butt of a joke?". They got jumped on, but the team read it and went "Oh."

Gaider wrote Maevaris in the comics, talked to a trans woman friend about it. One of the other writers was working on Kress...*audience shouts KREM* and he seemed a bit boring so he got made trans, since it added some interest and fitted in well with the worldbuilding about the Qun etc.It would have been better with a trans voice actor but they couldn’t find one.

What program is best for explaining stuff to the art team etc early on: Biowre had a sort of Grey Box level for playing through choices, but something like twine is good, just to test pacing. (not sure this actually answers the question asked)

Are there any genres you would like to work on but haven't: Yes :D :D But he can't tell us about it yet :D :D

He got sick of high fantasy after ten years. Would look longingly at Mass Effect sometimes just for a change but then they would implode and he'd think"Actually I'm fine".

Off the top of his head: Victorian London, finding husbands for your girlfriends while fighting zombies and also it's a Western?

Misc other things: I didn't make it to any more talks because Wheelchair, but met some cool people, and played some of the student games on display. My favourite was a time travel murder mystery called Lacuna where you have to connect clues. Apparently I was way better at it than most people :D I also actually enjoyed one of the puzzle platformers (I forget the name but it's about a little grumpy blue hexagon), which is a pretty big achievement.

GCAP has a "food intolerances station" with special food options and knowledgeable staff which was pretty great. Morning tea was just various gluten free biscuits, but for lunch there was poached chicken and salmon and various plain chopped vegetables, as well as dressed salads and gluten free bread and dessert. I could eat about 1/3 of it which is pretty good odds, I ended up happier than my partner who doesn’t have as many intolerances but just didn't like any of the food options.

[homeawayfromhogwarts394-blog]

On the twenty-first day of christmas, fanfiction gave to me... Starrnobella! Read her work on Fanfiction.net, find her on tumblr @starrnobella, and read her interview below! 

Getting to Know You

HAFH: Tell us how you fell in love with Harry Potter

S: I fell in love with Harry Potter after reading the books. I love reading stories that are outside of the norm. Give me magic, witches, wizards, werewolves, vampires, and the like any day over a sappy romance novel. (Which I’m still a sucker for anyways lol)

HAFH: Who is your favorite Character? Which is your favorite book? Why?

S: My favorite character is Hermione. She is a brainiac who is devoted to perfection or as close to it as she can get, just like me.

My favorite book is Half-Blood Prince because potions is my favorite class at Hogwarts and the focus on that class is very much present in that book.

HAFH: What is your favorite book (outside of HP)?

S: Tricks by Ellen Hopkins

HAFH: What are your favorite holiday traditions?

S: Waking up early, drinking coffee and opening the presents in our stockings by the light of the Christmas Tree

HAFH: Do you like the holidays?

S: I do enjoy them!

HAFH: Share one of your strengths and one of your weaknesses. Doesn’t have to be writing related!

S: Strength: My odd ability to remember some of the weirdest little things

S: Weakness: I strive too hard for perfection to the point of becoming overly stressed out.

HAFH: What other hobbies do you have?

S: Photography, Singing, and Reading

HAFH: Do you write anything outside of Harry Potter fanfiction?

S: I write for the Once Upon A Time fandom! :)

HAFH: What are you doing when you're not obsessing about Harry Potter or fanfiction?

S: Obsessing about Once Upon A Time

General Fanfiction

HAFH: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

S: Start with a prompt/idea/song - set a little of the scene - flashback to explain a relationship or finish setting the scene - conflict usually caused by the flashback -another flashback - resolution

Basically I use flashback to really get the reader in the mindset of the scene/character

HAFH: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

S: I’d love to see a prequel to Getting Personal by Oracle Obscured because I’d like to see more about how Hermione got to the point she was before the story began. I’m all for finding out all the little details lol.

HAFH: If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose? Any actors you would hope play your characters?

S: Either Nothing More than Who I Am (AU - Hermione and Draco are in school with Tom Riddle and Slughorn teaches Potions) or Say Something (Once Upon A Time/Harry Potter Crossover). Both of them have so much potential. My Hermione will always be Emma Watson, my Draco is Tom Felton, and my Neal Cassidy|Baelfire will always be Micheal Raymond.

HAFH: If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

S: Only One? It’s a toss up between Captain Swan and Dramione. I love them both and I can see similarities between them.

HAFH: Do you have a muse? What is it?! If not, where do you get your ideas?

S: Music, prompts (both my own and xxDustNight88’s pop up prompts), and random life events or things that happen in the show/movie

HAFH: Do you read fanfiction? Do you read similar or different things than you write?

S: Yes I read, not as much as I’d like, but I do read. Some of it is similar to my work, some not. I tend to read the work of authors that I’m friends with.

HAFH: Share three of your favorite fic writers and what you like about them.

S: xxDustNight88 - She can make you feel exactly how the character is feeling in a scene just through the words she writes. It’s amazing.

S: Dramione84 - Her stories catch your attention and make you want so much more and have you pining for the next update.

S: Oracle Obscured - I just love their writing style and seeing an update email makes me excited!

HAFH: Share three of your favorite fanfictions and what you like about them.

S: Teardrops and Teacups by xxDustNight88 - You can feel exactly how Hermione feels and the story makes your heart ache for her.

S: Teaching Miss Granger by Oracle Obscured - HOT and makes me dream of detentions with Snape

S: Sex Ed by MrBenzedrine - I love a good teacher/teacher fic and this Dramione relationship is perfect!

HAFH: Does what you read affect what or how you write? If yes, how so?

S: Absolutely. It shows me a new light to write characters in. I never would have written Snape as a person who cares about another’s mental well-being had I not read Getting Personal by Oracle Obscured.

HAFH: How long have you been reading and writing fanfiction?

S: Since July of this year.

Published Works

HAFH: Have you ever deleted one of your published fics? Why?

S: Yes, but it went back up shortly after. Apparently I had doubles of some of my edits all through a fic.

HAFH: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

S: “Dirty dishes sat on the edge of the sink in the kitchen. Piles of books, clothes, and papers were scattered over the drawing room. Late into the afternoon, the heavy curtains were still pulled shut. The dusty, old look to the inside of the house would lead one to believe the house itself was suffering from a grim depression. There was a bleakness wrapped around the whole house as a shawl wrapped around a person’s shoulders on a rough wintery morning.

The once pretty wallpaper was shredded and faded. There were wilted flowers in the expensive crystal vases on the counters. The house had lost its beauty that once reigned supreme when it was home to some of the greatest minds ever known. There was a mutual understanding between its history and those who inhabited the house. That understanding was that no matter the problem, the weather, or what is considered to be mainstream at the time this house would bring the troubled mind solitude.

Hermione Granger had been living in this house for some time now.”

I love this piece because it sets the scene quite nicely. You really get the feeling of how run down the house was.

HAFH: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

S:  ““How long?” were the only words she spoke while staring intently at the paper when he walked up to the table where she was seated and spied the note.

“How long what?” he asked trying to play it off.

“Have you been fucking  Astoria?” she sobbed looking up at him as the tears started to fall once again. His heart dropped.

“How did you find out?” he mumbled, afraid to look her in the eyes as he started fidgeting with his fingers.

“This,” she spat as she pointed to the note on the table. He picked it up and read it.

It was a note from Astoria. He had never seen it before. He couldn’t figure out how it had gotten to their flat. The note was from the first night they had slept together, telling him how happy she was that he had finally chosen her, even if he was still going home to the “Princess” every time he left her flat. She hoped that he would chose her in the end.

“It fell out of your trouser pockets when I gathered laundry earlier,” she told him spying the confusion on his face.

As the tears continued, she yelled again, “How long have you been fucking her behind my back?”

“I’m going out,” he answered and walked back out the door that he had walked in moments before. Once he closed the door he leaned back and sunk to the ground. His heart broken into a million pieces. He heard the loud crash of something being thrown at the door in his wake, and the tears started to fall from his own eyes. He needed to make this right. “

This from a fic coming soon, or already published by the time this goes up. You can really feel the heartbreak in Hermione’s voice when she confronts him. (I know this is a little more of a prose, rather than dialogue, but I love this too much. )

HAFH: Which fic has been the hardest to write?

S: When Books Meet the Sea (Once Upon A Time/Harry Potter Crossover) because it really hits close to home

HAFH: Which fic has been the easiest to write?

S: Lost Letters of Love because it is a collection of letters, so there is no set plot to build.

HAFH: What is your favorite story you have every written?

S: Earn Your Hot Cocoa, it’s part of starrnobella’s Christmas Countdown

Writing Process

HAFH: What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

S: If you get stuck, set it aside and come back. Bashing your head against a wall is pointless, and will cause harm. The story will get there eventually, it’s okay if it takes a while.

HAFH: What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

S: That after awhile you should force yourself to leave your comfort zone, no matter if you want to or not. I will always stick to what I’m comfortable with. I may try something different, but I am not likely to share it for all to see.

HAFH: Describe your perfect writing conditions.

S: If music isn’t blasting, then a movie or tv show is playing on my tv. I have a cup of coffee or tea by my side and am curled up under my Chemistry No Sew blanket with my Vanilla Frosting Yankee Candle lit.

HAFH: Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

S: You know, I probably should, but I don’t lol. Typically if I’m working on my WIPs I have the previous chapters nearby.

HAFH: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

S: A mix of both. My letters are written start to finish, but most of my other fics are written in the order the muse strikes and then I will go through and reorganize it.

HAFH: Describe the process a chapter goes through before being posted.*

S: Sits open on my screen a while - start writing slowly - muse hits - finishes writing rather quickly - prints off for edits by hand - digital edits made - posted!

HAFH: How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

S: Anywhere from 5 ideas to 25 haha. Most of them are based on prompts I’ve read in the different groups I’m a member of. One of them is an actual story for Lost Letters of Love that goes along with the letters.

HAFH: Would you ever kill off a canon character?

S: If the muse led me to it, then yes I would.

HAFH: Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

S: Nothing I write is canon compliant. Some of it may run parallel to a pieces of it, but are still divergent from what is actually there. I love J. K. Rowling’s work, but my ships don’t all exist in her world, so they need a home.

HAFH: Is there a character, book, scene, etc from canon (above all others) that inspires you?*

S: Hermione. She is such a complex character that can be written from so many different angles that every story is unique and special in it’s own light.

HAFH: Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to? Or one you never would want to write?

S: I’d like to try my hand in a few tropes. Fake dating being one of them, but the muse just hasn’t struck.

HAFH: Is writing your passion or a fun hobby?

S: A passion, hands down no questions asked.

Revision

HAFH: If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

S: Lost Letters of Love - I’d actually give it a plot and make it more than just the letters.

HAFH: How do you feel about collaborations?

S: I love them. I have worked with Dramione84 on a few stories. Also k-lynne317 and I are a planning something fun as well.

HAFH: What do you look for in a beta?

S: Someone I trust and I can use as a sounding board when I have an idea. My fics are my babies, so I don’t want to just have any random person do the first read for me. I honestly think I have the best team of betas/alpha readers a person can get.

HAFH: Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

S: I do. I check for grammar and spelling. I also make a great sounding board for ideas when the author gets stuck and we can find a way to pull all the ideas together. I am currently working with Rowena Hill on Leather and Lace.

Works in Progress

HAFH: Talk about your current wips.

S: Forever and Always (OUAT) is what I wanted to see happen in season 6. So far it’s been completely divergent from what’s going on.

Lost Letters of Love is Future Dramione and it is the letters that they send back and forth when they are separated for work, with newspaper articles written by Theo just for an added bonus.

starrnobella’s Christmas Countdown is my 25 days of Christmas. Every day a new story with a new pairing and a new prompt.

I also have two running drabble collections: Interstellar Novella is for Harry Potter and Written in the Stars is for Once Upon a Time.

HAFH: Do you accept prompts?

S: Absolutely! I take them on tumblr, ffn, ao3, and my fanpage on facebook!

HAFH: Which is your favorite site to post fic?

S: Tumblr! I think I can reach more people on there, but I’m still relatively new, so who knows what the future holds!

HAFH: How do you feel about smut?

S: I enjoy it. Still struggling to write it, but that’s because I won’t get out of my own head.

HAFH: How do you deal with trigger warnings in your work?*

S: I try to put them in the author’s note if I know they are there. I have been known to miss them occasionally, but not all the time.

Feedback

HAFH: What kind of feedback do you prefer?

S: I prefer praise, especially if you are going to post it for all to see in the reviews. I also like getting questions from readers that have read the fic. Some I answer in the next chapter and some remain unanswered for a while.

HAFH: Is there anything that you particularly like or don’t like to see in a review?

S: I love hearing things that the reader likes, especially when they are from different points in the fic. I don’t like concrit in reviews. Send the concrit in a pm to the author so that it is not out for the whole world to see when they go to review the fic.

HAFH: Talk about a review that made your day.

S: This came to Lost Letters of Love the other day: “I've stumbled upon this fic last night and I couldn't stop reading it. I particularly love the concept of Draco and Hermione writing love letters to each others. I must say, it's a very unique style and looking forward to every letter they write.” I’m not used to people stumbling upon my work, so this made me really happy.

HAFH: Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

S: I don’t get many. Usually I ignore them, but if it’s one that really bothers me like they reviewed without reading, then I will message them and kinda ask for an explanation, just because I’m curious.

Thanks again to Starrnobella for taking the time to answer all of our questions! Make sure to check out her stories and find her on tumblr! 

[will-we-be-infinite]

Harry Potter + A series of unfortunate events + Riverdale

The Rosier family's home gets burned down. Their oldest daughter, Isabella (called Bella) was not at the house during the time of the fire. She and her youngest sister Sunny are the only ones that are left, and they get adopted by Count Olaf, a distant relative who turns out to be very twisted and only after their enormous fortune passed down from their parents. He gets Isabella admitted to the Sisters Of Quiet Mercy, an institution for troubled youth. After a while Lemony Snicket helps her escape, and assigns her to Hogwarts so that he can keep an eye on her and make sure she's safe. Her sister sunny gets taken from Olaf and is cared for by the Malfoys, close family friends of the Rosiers.

"I am so sorry to inform you, miss Rosier. Your parents passed away in the fire that burned down your home. There's nothing left" accountant Poe said while sitting across from me in his office. I looked at him, my eyes glassy and puffing up. When I didn't say anything he continued "you and your sister will be put into custody of your closest living relative, Count Olaf" he said. "I've never heard of him" I said, looking over at Poe who got rather awkward in his chair "well. He's on his way now to pick you up" he said. Then sunny and I left his office. We sat in the hall and sunny played with the bow on my shirt, she was happy, completely unaware of the situation. I didn't know what to tell her, so I just held her close to me and tried not to cry. When a strange looking man approached us I looked up. "Hmm" He said "I am Count Olaf, you can bow" he said and I slowly got up to my feet, not bowing to him. "Well. Come" He then said hastily and we left the courthouse. Sunny and I got into the backseat of his car and he got in the front. "So happy to have you, Isabella, and...baby" he said, starting the car and driving away. "Her name is sunny" I said, narrowing my eyes faintly. "Poor child" he said. After we had been driving for about an hour I looked out the window "where are we going?" I asked, he didn't answer me. I narrowed my eyes, pulling Sunny closer to me. When we reached a large old building he pulled over, and got out "out with you" he said, opening the door for me. I stepped outside and looked around. He then walked ahead of me up the stairs and I followed. When we walked inside I looked around. This place looked very much like hospitals, and the women here were dressed in white nurse uniforms. "Hello" one of them said, she was old, and she had a board. "Hello" Olaf said, grinning his dirty teeth at her "I am admitting my niece, Isabella Rosier" he said and my eyes widened "What?". "She can get aggressive" he added and the woman wrote something down. "No!" I said and clutched sunny. Two men dressed in white came over, one took sunny and the other one grabbed me. Sunny got passed to Olaf and he grunted, holding her. "You're not doing this! You can't take her! No!" I screamed out while I tried to fight them. They held me and I looked at Olaf grin at me before he turned around and walked away with crying sunny. Then things went blurry and I felt a sting in my arm. It was a needle injecting me with sedatives.

That's how things were here, all blurry. I was dressed in white socks, a blue dress and a dark red cardigan, like everyone else. Everything was always blurry here. If you didn't do what they told you, they beat you up, that was your punishment, and if you did good, you got drugs, that was your reward. After being here for god knows how long, I finally got out. Only I didn't realize until I woke up in someone else's bed. I looked over at Lemony Snicket. I knew him, since I was a child. He was a good friend of my parents. When I saw him I started crying uncontrollably, I couldn't stop. I was out of that awful place, my parents were dead, my baby sister stuck with some lunatic. He moved over quickly, and held me. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. I kept crying while I held him too. "I am so sorry for everything you've endured Isabella" he whispered, patting my head in a comforting way. "But you're safe now" he said. I eventually fell asleep, the drugs had me all messed up and my

Body was adjusting without them.

The next morning I got myself washed up and I put on clean clothes that had been left for me in the room. Lemony was gone. When someone knocked on the door I was startled, and I moved over to open it. "Welcome, Miss Rosier. I am headmaster of this establishment, Hogawarts wizarding school" an old man with a long beard said with a faint smile. I looked up at him "pleasure" I said. "Now I know you were at another school, the academy of unseen arts. But I think you will blossom here" he said with a smile "please come meet me in my office when you're ready" He then turned away "it's the one with the gold eagle" he said before leaving.

Later in the day I went to his office, and he told me about his agreement with Snicket. That they'd let me enroll here and stay here, and after I'd graduate I would be able to legally adopt my sister, Sunny. Who was currently being cared for by the Malfoys. Snicket arranged it. I signed the contract and thanked him, before heading off to my first class, potions. Lunch was just over, so the halls were flooded with students. "You have to wear a uniform" Cho said to me, while she passed me. I eventually found the potions classroom and walked inside. I noticed I was late. "Miss Rosier, kind of you to join us" Snicket said and some of the students snickered. I looked over at him "I'm sorry, I couldn't find the classroom" I said. "It's alright" he smiled while writing his name on the board. "I just finished telling everyone I'm their new professor over the semester, I'm covering for Mr. Snape" He said and I nodded shortly, finding an empty table and going over there