Bewitched By A Deadman's Heart

Bewitched by a Deadman's Heart

I had an anon request Pirate AU Gabe and then I took a month to write it im so sorry anon i hope youre still here

Read it here on the AO3 Gabriel Reyes/Reader | Pirate AU Rating: Mature/Explicit | No Warnings Word count: ~2600

You never took your eyes off the captain as he stalked back and forth through the hold. Sweeping black and crimson coat, broad hat. He had worn a white bone mask when he entered; now you could see his face. 

He wasn’t human. Not fully. Monstrous, a beast made more of smoke than bone. You had seen men like him before, cursed by Neptune. They were all the same, unrepentant bastards. You knew exactly what he wanted.

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interpretations [c!sapnap x reader, hogwarts au]

Hi! Here we are again and with somewhat of a continuation for my Hogwarts AU. Remember that Slytherin housemate from Mercy that I left unnamed? This is about her now and her little “interest” in a certain bandana wearing fiend.

Of course, we’re still going to use stuff like [Name] and [Surname] so don’t get it confused with the other story; it’s not about the reader from Mercy, but she will be mentioned differently.

Also another note: this takes place a little bit before Mercy. There is going to be a bit of an overlap and time jumps with these stories depending on who's getting what storyline. So far I have a good idea for two more and will be going through that.

Divider done by @firefly-graphics.

Here's my masterlist

TW // Mentions of blood

PAIRING: C!Gryffindor!Sapnap x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

PREMISE: A nightmare connected the most unlikely people, but was it worth it?

WORD COUNT: 14K+

Everything felt cold. Why was that? She had no idea why… Wait. She did know why. She was dying…

Wake up!

Wake up!

Wake up!

[Name] jolted upwards, gasping for air as if she had just resurfaced from water. Her breath was still short and heaving, sweat rolling down the back of her neck as she tried to remember her nightmare, though it was useless. All she remembered was one thing: it was cold, practically freezing. She also remembered that she was dying. And the voice.

“I really hope that isn’t me.” She whispered to herself, regretting saying it immediately. “I really hope that isn’t anyone, actually…”

Looking around, she spotted her dormmates bodies breathing underneath a pile of blankets. It was still dark out, [Name] making out the moonlight shining through the water of the Black Lake against her window. She hadn’t an idea what time it was--most likely between one to three in the morning--and she wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to go back to sleep. Though, she wasn’t exactly too keen on re-living on dying.

Letting out a quiet groan, [Name] settled herself back to bed, looking up at the dark stoned ceiling, feeling helpless once again. All she wished for was sleep, but she never seemed to be having any ever since she had started having those hellish dreams. They started in her third year as nightmares she couldn’t remember and it stayed that way for a while up until now, where she was starting to not only feel things but to hear them as well.

The voice was familiar, but where did she recognize it from? [Name] groaned again, her head pounding as she tried her best to dig from the back of her head as she tried her best to recall her memory. Someone else shifted from the other side of the room, [Name] spotting her housemate sitting up and staring at her with concern.

“Nightmares again?” She heard her ask faintly.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I was about to fall asleep.” [Name] lied smoothly, eyes staring numbly at the wall.

A yawn could be heard as her housemate quietly said, “You honestly need to go to Madam Pomfrey for a deep sleep potion. It’s amazing that you still manage to stay awake during lessons.”

“Fake it till you make it.” [Name] joked, a smile creeping on her face.

“Of course you can still joke when it sounded like you just swam out of Black Lake.”

A giggle washed over the room, only for a moment though since they heard Minx groan a harsh “shut up” from her pillow. Not wanting to bother their other dormmates, both girls allowed the room to be silenced once more. [Name] turned her body so it faced the murky window. Faintly she could see fish swim by and an occasional tentacle--the giant squid?--watching the way the water illuminated the room.

She thought of the voice again. What was it saying to her again? “Wake up.” [Name] whispered quietly to herself. Well, here she was--awake. But for what reason? No dream or nightmare could ever be this strong, [Name] thought to herself. There has to be a reason for these recurring dreams; she just needed to find it. And her first issue wasn’t easy, but it definitely was simple: find the voice.

“You dressed early.” Her housemate said at the same time Minx said, “You look like shit.”

[Name] glared at her from her spot on her bed. She hadn’t slept ever since she woke up, only moving and ruining her bed whenever she tossed and turned. She didn’t need a mirror to know there were dark bags under her eyes. She was pretty sure she felt them sinking into her face when she made herself take a cold shower to wake up this morning. Still, she threw a sarcastic smile at the tall Slytherin. “Thanks, Minx. I really needed to hear that at 8AM.”

She rubbed her eyes, trying to rub exhaustion out of them as they made their way to the common room. Like always, there was commotion everywhere--first years running out, panicked that they might miss breakfast, with a few of their fellow fifth years cursing at them to slow down. Faintly, she can feel her housemate shove her way between her and Minx. [Name] questioned it until she heard the familiar wheezing laughter of their resident prankster.

“You can’t always hide from him, y’know.” [Name] advised as she tried to pull away when they made it out the door, only to be pulled back by her dormmate, grip tight.

“I can and I will. I see Dream more than enough times than I’d like to admit.” Their dormmate said.

“At least be happy you didn’t have to go on a date with him or one of his little friends like some people I know.” [Name] said coyly, eyes shooting at Minx, who only scowled in response.

“George asked me to place enough money on him during that charity event last summer so none of their little psycho ‘fans’ from Hogwarts would try to take him on a date and drop a love potion in his drink.” Minx explained, very much annoyed. “Worst date ever.”

“Yeah I’d find it horrible too if I spat on the cutest boy at Hogwarts.” [Name] jeered out, giving her friend a good natured smile when the finger was thrown her way. “I don’t even understand--”

“I panicked!”

“That hardly explains why you did that. I nearly fell off my bed laughing when I read your letter. Poor George.” [Name] said. She continued her jibe at Minx’s failed pity date with the Ravenclaw up until they made it to the Great Hall, where it was bustling with a mix of excited younger students and exhausted older ones.

Once settled into their spots, [Name] was greeted with a letter dropped on top of her plate. Her eyes looked up to meet one of the sixth years at her house, Punz, standing beside her, obviously being the one to drop the letter on her table. Raising an eyebrow, [Name] chose not to touch the letter, opting to sip her pumpkin juice instead.

"Just take the letter." Punz urged, poking at her back.

"I don't trust you." [Name] responded honestly, setting the letter aside to place a boiled egg in its place. She had every right to. Her last excursion with Punz resulted in her receiving three weeks of detention with Professor Binns, the tragically dead and even more tragically boring History of Magic professor.

Still, the older Slytherin was persistent, placing the letter on top of the boiled eggs. "Punz! My eggs!"

"Look, there's a friend of mine looking for a certain… Item." Punz said, voice going down in a whisper. [Name] rolled her eyes, knowing where this is going, but urging him to continue by waving her fork to continue. "It's the spine of a shrake. Hard to find unless you know somebody."

"Let me guess, I'm that somebody?" [Name] asked, not really looking for an answer.

Punz nodded. "Yeah. You're the only one who has access to a shrake--"

"No." [Name] interrupted. "I can't get it."

"Bullshit," Punz said, annoyed. "Your brother is a Potioneer. He's got access to every potion ingredient possible--"

"And I would gladly send him a letter requesting for ingredients not provided by Hogwarts--for a certain sum, of course. Just not a shrake." [Name] said, eyes darkening as she started to think about the terrifying sea creature. "They're impossible to catch and not to mention every potion that involves a shrake spine always results in bones breaking or death. Just who is your little friend and what are they up to, Punz?"

"Maybe if you look at the envelope, you'll see." Punz said mysteriously, walking farther up the table, stopping to give Dream an overly complicated handshake before walking further to sit with the other sixth years.

"Since when have they been friends?" Minx asked, eyes trained on their housemates. Their dormmate shook her head, probably silently dreading the possible trouble coming down on them now that Hogwarts's biggest troublemaker just networked with an infamous dark items seller. It wasn't any better that they were in Slytherin.

[Name] rolled her eyes once more, picking up the envelope. She tucked into her robes, deciding to read it later. With everything she's dealing with, having to be a middleman for the middleman were the least of her troubles. All she wanted was to eat breakfast.

The next day had been a Friday, a day where [Name] chose to hustle all her work in that day to avoid too much work during the weekend. She spent the majority of her evening at the library, eyes trained on her outline for an essay for her Potions class, making adjustments and adding comments in the margins for her to look back and reference to.

Her eyes were so trained on the essay, she had failed to notice the two bodies settling themselves in front of her. [Name] nearly jumped out of her seat when she met Karl Jacobs’s kind gaze from across the table. “Salazar’s soul!” [Name] yelled out, earning a harsh shush and irritated glance from Madam Pince. Faintly, she could feel something slick and cold splash on her hand. [Name] sighed as she picked up her ink pot, which had been knocked down when she almost jumped from her seat.

She could only offer an embarrassed smile at Madam Pince before turning to glare at Karl and Sapnap, who flinched at her disgusted gaze. “Whatever it is you want, Karl, it better be a damn good reason.”

The brunette grinned sheepishly. “My bad. I’ll get you a new one, I promise--” Silently, [Name] picked up her parchment, wet and stained with black ink to the point of no return. “--and I’ll replace that too. Scout’s honor.”

[Name] sighed, shaking her head as she pulled a handkerchief out to clean the ink from her fingers as best she can. “Karl. What do you need?” [Name] urged again.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Karl elbow Sapnap, who had yet to speak up. The dark haired Gryffindor elbowed him back, as if communicating for Karl to say something instead of him. A whisper fight ensued, though it was nothing [Name] could decipher besides the quiet “You do it/No, you do it!”.

“If you two won’t stop this little…” [Name] waved a hand their way, trying to find the right words. “Lovers quarrel, I’m going back to my dorm.” To yell at Dream, [Name] thought to herself. There was no way he didn’t send those two to talk to me.

“No,” Sapnap said, holding a hand out to grab the hand holding the strap of her bag, speaking up for the first time. “We were just going to ask you about the shrake spine.”

“That was you?” [Name] asked, earning a nod from the Gryffindor, who quickly let go of her hand. “I already told Punz I wouldn’t get it.”

“Why not, though?” Sapnap pressed further.

“Do you know how much danger it is to get shrake spines?” [Name] asked. From the two boys’ confused looks, she would have guessed no. “Well, let’s just say the purpose of a shrake’s existence is to create as much damage and trouble as possible.”

“Look, we’ll pay you a lot.” Sapnap countered.

[Name] raised an eyebrow. Just how much money does Sapnap have to say that so easily?

“This is a kind of serious type of favor. I promise there’s no pranks involved with this.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Usually, [Name] would use jokes as a means of refusal, showing there was no animosity between her and whoever was requesting ingredients that she was not able to bring up. They usually gave up after a one or two tries, tired from [Name]’s constant “no’s” and jokes. From the looks of things, [Name] could see it was doing the opposite for Sapnap.

She rarely ever spoke to Sapnap, mainly because they were in opposing Houses. While she never really understood how House rivalries can last so long, [Name] had subconsciously not spoken to most of the Gryffindors, mainly due to either them beginning the silent avoidance or she had just found a few of the red and gold wearing students annoying.

Sapnap had been the latter. She was more than sure a small part of her first year self held onto it, but she would never forget the time Sapnap jinxed one of the salad bowls at the Slytherin table to explode. [Name] and Dream had been in the line of fire. Dream, who had known Sapnap for quite some time, was angry at him, choosing to throw a punch and tear a portion of Sapnap’s uniform in retaliation.

She was more than sure that fight had solidified a strong friendship between them--something she would never understand--because by the time they served their detention, Dream and Sapnap weren’t seen without the other afterwards. Whatever bond they had before grew stronger after their little toss of juvenile testosterone. Hell, Sapnap even wore the torn piece of his uniform around his head.

[Name] had chosen the opposite, avoiding Sapnap at all costs. He had apologized to her soon afterwards and she forgave him--sort of. They hadn’t spoken so much as a few nods of acknowledgement and having to sit next to one another in joint classes. She was more than sure he still felt guilty in some way, even after all these years. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have sent Punz to ask for the shrake spine or have Karl try to talk first. It looked like it was about to change, though, with how frustrated he looked.

“I’m not only refusing because its hard to obtain, Sapnap.” [Name] explained, softening when she noticed him looking as if he were about to explode. “Shrake spines are dangerous once crushed. Just the powder itself can create issues. If it gets into your mouth, nose, or eyes then you can have internal bone breakage. I should know; I lost count of how many times my brother got sent to St. Mungo’s for it.”

“We didn’t know…” Karl said apologetically.

“Why would you? I don’t exactly tell people my life story.” [Name] replied. She turned to Sapnap, who looked a little less irritated after her explanation. “Not to mention, I’ve got other things to worry about. I’d rather not add being the cause of internal bone breakage for you and your feral friends.”

“I wasn’t going to involve them.” Sapnap promised, though [Name] could spot the lie right behind his eyes. Anything anyone did with him and his friends, they were most likely going to be involved in some way.

Shaking her head, [Name] finally decided to ask, “What is it you’re doing anyways? What does something as dangerous as a shrake spine need to be included in whatever it is you’re brewing?”

Karl and Sapnap paused, turning to look at each other in hesitance. “Punz gave you an envelope.” Was the only thing Karl said after they stopped looking up from each other. [Name]’s eyes widened, suddenly remembering the letter her housemate gave her. She shuffled through her pockets and bag until she finally found it. She looked up at Sapnap curiously, who only urged her to open the note.

She was tempted to ask him if this was another prank, but something told her to trust him. Slowly, she broke the seal open, pulling out the letter and opening it. Her eyes furrowed as she read the contents in the letter. It was just a list.

1 shrake spine, crushed

1 Pogrebin tooth, crushed

3 Abraxan hair--

“Wait.” [Name] said as she went further along the page. “I recognize this potion.”

From above the page, she could see Sapnap shuffle uncomfortably the moment she mentioned her familiarity with what was listed. [Name] let out a huffed laugh, shocked as she realized what Sapnap was trying to make. There was no way he was trying to make a potion like that…

“Is it just the Gryffindor in you or are you just straight up crazy?” [Name] asked once she finished analyzing the potion.

“If you’re going to make fun of me, just go ahead and do it already.” The Gryffindor snapped. Karl looked at him in panic, slapping his arm, as if urging him to sit back down. Sapnap only pulled away, glaring daggers at [Name], who only watched him as she tried to process what she was trying to piece together.

“You might as well practice Legilimency, Sapnap.” [Name] said, not phased by his explosive behavior. Carefully, she set down the paper. “You’ll hurt yourself trying to make a mind breaking potion. Whoever’s brain you’re trying to pick at--stop it. You’d have to follow this potion down to the very last detail. Put the wrong amount of shrake powder and you’ll have your rib piercing your heart.”

“Look, we’re desperate okay? He’s been getting these weird flashes of--” Karl started, only to be stopped by Sapnap, who covered his mouth.

Shaking his head, Sapnap grabbed his bag and walked away, obviously upset. [Name]’s stomach dropped, the thought of him putting himself in danger not sitting well with her. Her eyes shifted to Karl, who was still watching Sapnap with the same amount of concern she had. Once Sapnap disappeared, Karl turned back to the Slytherin, giving her an apologetic smile.

“I’d tell you what’s happening, but it’s not my place to say.” He started. “I can tell you this; the thing that’s been affecting him has been eating him up from the inside out. He barely gets sleep nowadays since he thinks about it all the time now. He hasn’t been acting the same since.”

As curious as she was about what exactly is bothering Sapnap, [Name] knew not to press further. She certainly hated it whenever Minx tried to push her to explain her nightmares. She also understood what he’s been through to some degree in regards to barely getting any sleep. Her eyes widened for a moment when realization hit her. The mind breaking potion was strong, stronger than any potion she’s ever read on. And highly dangerous--her brother refused to make it because of how dangerous gathering the potions were. However, a few good things came out of it besides trying to pick through someone’s mind--it also brought clarity up the night you take it.

[Name] looked back down at the ingredients list again. “It’s hard enough trying to get a Pogrebin.” She told Karl.

Karl nodded. “We can help you--get the other potions, I mean. I know you’re hesitant about it, [Name], so I don’t want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I don’t like it, but…” [Name] paused for a moment, looking back at the door where Sapnap left from. A feeling of guilt washed over her for upsetting him. But how else was she going to get the message across? By holding his hand and telling him he could possibly die from just trying to make a potion?

“But…?” Karl urged.

“It’ll take months to get shrake spine, much less convince my brother to send me it.” [Name] continued, writing down a name on a corner of her ruined parchment. “During that, you and Sapnap need to help me gather the rest of the ingredients. In particular the Pogrebin. I have a friend who can help, though. She’s in your House so you might know her.”

Handing him the paper, Karl examined the name before his eyes lit up in recognition. He nodded excitedly at her, confirming he knew who the sixth year Hufflepuff was. They talked a little longer afterwards, going through any contingency plans and preparations for the potion gathering. Not to mention they had to keep it quiet; from the looks of it [Name] was sure only Karl, Dream, and possibly Punz knew about Sapnap’s little dilemma. No doubt it would take several months if they were keeping this agreement just between the four of them.

“Can I ask you why you suddenly changed your mind?” Karl asked suddenly. [Name] searched him for a moment, hesitating to lie to him. Karl, while he was one of the key members of Hogwarts’s notorious troublemakers, was one of the nicer of the boys, next to George.

He was the kindest to the victims of the pranks, coming up to anyone who was not involved but still received the brunt of their jokes and apologizing for bringing them in. Not wanting to take advantage of his friendliness, [Name] decided to say hold back on whatever lie her brain was trying to make. “I have some use for the mind breaking potion.” [Name] admitted vaguely. “Since you or Sapnap won’t tell me what the potion is for, I’ll hold back as well.”

Karl laughed. “Fine. I’ll go tell Sapnap.”

“You go do that.” [Name] said as she cleaned up her spot and shuffled her items in her bag. Karl looked as if he was ready to leave, stopping when [Name] called his name quickly. “Can you tell Sapnap I said sorry?”

“For what?” Karl asked.

“Being an ass.” [Name] said honestly. “I was kind of harsh on him even though I knew he was going to act like that.”

Karl nodded in understanding. “Will do.” He said as he shuffled his bag. He gave one last goodbye wave to [Name], closing the door behind him. She could faintly hear him call out Dream’s name loudly and quick footsteps. Clearly, their tall leader was passing by the hall.

What have I gotten myself into? [Name] asked herself in her head.

She was dying again.

Wake up!

It was cold, like always. But where was she? [Name] turned her head, only for her vision to be blocked by her hair. Was she… Floating?

Wake up!

Was she in space? Is she going to drop back on earth? Where is she?

Wake up!

Wake up!

Dammit, Sapnap, wake up!

[Name] gasped, chest heaving again as she woke up from her nightmare. Looking around, she realized it was just her in the room. “Why…?” [Name] asked herself before she remembered being invited to a Duelling Club meeting by Puffy. [Name] refused, noting she wanted to wake up early on Saturday so she can go on the first wave of carriage rides to Hogsmeade.

“I think this is a little too early.” [Name] told herself. The meeting didn’t end until midnight and judging from the chattering downstairs it wasn’t even eleven. Curling into herself, [Name] let herself think of her dream again.

Sapnap’s name was mentioned by the voice this time. But why? It hadn’t been mentioned at all until now. Was it because she involved herself with him and her mind subconsciously included him? If it had, then why had it not been Karl, who she spoke to longer, instead of Sapnap?

Sighing, [Name] grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on, the cloak she haphazardly threw on the edge of her bedpost when she came to her dorm room last night. She didn’t bother to spare anyone a glance as she zeroed in on the doorway. It felt too crowded in the common room despite there being only a few students scattered around the room. A sigh of relief escaped her once she felt the frigid air of the basement.

“I have to get out of here…” [Name] whispered to herself. But where to? She wondered to herself. This wasn’t her first time leaving the common room after hours. In exchange for her requests for ingredients, her brother enlisted her help to get materials only found in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. [Name] hadn’t known how many times she scratched herself trying to fit through open pockets in the deteriorating walls to hide away from Filch or the Prefects.

Remembering there was a hallway that leads straight to the astronomy tower almost always empty, [Name] chose that route, making sure to cast a warming charm around her before she went. Usually, she gave herself time to admire the hallway. It was barely used since it was close to Greenhouse 5, which always gave off a putrid smell year-round. Everyone was so focused on the smell, they never realized just how pretty the hallway was.

It could have been from a spell gone wrong, but the ceiling of the hallway was covered in growing vines, pink flowers littering here and there. It reminded [Name] of some sort of nature made solar system. She’d spend hours watching the “sky and stars”, admiring at how the moonlight illuminated the flowers before and after she set out to find the Hogwarts exclusive materials. Right now, however, [Name]’s mind could only focus on one thing: the putrid smell. She wished she could have focused on the overgrown vines, but if she did that would have meant she’d go into deep thoughts.

She’d rather not go into deep thoughts.

That would lead her straight back to her nightmare, wondering why Sapnap was involved in it this time.

Quickening her steps, [Name] spared no time to deal with the putrid scents. Once the door was closed, she let out the breath she held quietly, turning a corner where the astronomy tower was. Just as she was about to head for the tower, she heard a familiar set of voices from the other hallway.

“--idiot. Absolute idiot. I can’t believe you froze up just because I opened the door on you two.” Sapnap said quietly. “You totally had her attention, man.”

“Shut the hell up.” [Name] heard Dream said harshly. “We wouldn’t know anymore because someone decided to make things awkward and point out the fact we were still holding hands!”

A laugh erupted from Sapnap this time. [Name] moved her head around a corner, spotting the two friends standing around in the dark hallways, wands lit, but aimed at the ground. She fought back a giggle as she noticed the Gryffindor’s panda themed pajama pants.

“Aw, don’t get all sad about it, Dream. From the looks of it we’ll be seeing her more with whatever deal you struck with her. Maybe once you guys get to be friends, you can set me up with her--”

“Watch it Sapnap.” Dream interrupted, voice cutting a little harshly this time. “Besides, you’ll have to get past her friend first.”

A groan erupted from Sapnap’s lips. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. Just the conversation at the library made me want nervous. You weren’t kidding when you said she says it like it is. Kinda scary.”

Are they talking about… Me? [Name] thought to herself. That means they were talking about--

“I told you so.” Dream said lightheartedly. “Don’t get it wrong, though. She’s really nice. Let’s me copy her notes whenever we were serving detention.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” Sapnap snapped. “[Name] nearly tore me to shreds when I was trying to convince her on getting the shrake spine. I don’t think I’d want to have another conversation with her.”

[Name] had no issues with people’s criticism with her. Afterall, everyone was human; there was no once set way of thinking and perception will always be different from person to person. As someone who was considered to be “the perfect example of a Slytherin”, she had her fair share of good and bad comments that she usually didn’t care for.

At least, she thought she did. An odd tugging feeling occurred on her chest as she processed Sapnap’s words. She didn’t blame him--after all she was a little short with him at the library. Maybe Karl didn’t tell him that she said sorry? [Name] didn’t care at this point now. She turned her back back to the wall, huffing in annoyance as she felt a sting in the back of her eyes. There was no way she was going to let this get to her.

“Don’t say that,” Dream defended, sounding as if it was his duty to preserve his housemate’s name. “She’s been going through a lot, apparently. I’m surprised she has enough energy to even focus on writing notes, let alone make them as neat as she does with them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sapnap asked, a tone of inquiry evident.

“Well Minx says she’s been--wait, who is that?” Dream asked as he looked past Sapnap’s shoulder. Right at the corner [Name] was peeking from.

Sapnap, seeming more frightened than curious like his friend, jumped as he spun his body around in alarm, eyes wide. They pointed their wands toward her, illuminating her face. They all stood in front of one another, mouths agape. There was a bit of silence around them, awkwardly looking at one another as they slowly realized [Name] must have heard a good portion of their conversation.

“[Name]--” Dream started, prepared to remedy the situation.

“I was just passing by.” [Name] interrupted, standing up straighter as she stared the two boys down. I’m not letting them notice anything. “I heard some people talking; should have expected it to be you guys.”

Her eyes flicked to Sapnap, who seemed to have his mouth sealed the entire time, face unreadable through the harsh lighting pointed her way. He stood stiffly, though, as if he were a child caught in the act of doing something he was told not to do. His eyes were trained on her face, which was squinting from the light emitting from their wands.

He wanted to say something. [Name] wasn’t going to let him. She turned to Dream, lips turned up in a grateful smile. Gratitude waved over her at the way he came to her defence just minutes earlier. Dream, while he was a little mean and childish at times, understood people the best from his little friend group, second to Karl. Unlike most of their housemates, he took time knowing people before passing judgement--hence why his friend group was so diverse in regards of the houses. It was something she was grateful for since her constant nightmares made her irritable when she wasn’t in a teasing mood.

“If you don’t mind, I kind of want to get to the astronomy tower without getting caught by Filch or the Prefects. So can you just turn them down or point them to the opposite direction?” [Name] asked, motioning at their wands. She watched as Sapnap switched to his opposite hand, watching as the light caught a portion of his face. A slight twinge of amusement bloomed as she realized his face was bright red, probably embarrassed from getting caught by the very person he was criticizing..

“Sorry.” Was all Sapnap could say, though [Name] felt like it was more than just for shooting the light her way. Dream turned to look at him, eyes narrowed to a knowing glare.

“Yeah. We didn’t mean to aim it at you that way. Kinda spooked us.” Dream said, grinning nonchalantly as he tried to change the topic. “I thought you were in your dorm.”

“I was but I…” [Name] trailed off, not wanting to admit her nightmares yet. “The astronomy tower has a good view of the sky. I wanted to see the stars tonight since all I see is murky water.”

Not necessarily a lie, but not entirely the truth. The astronomy tower did have a good view of the sky. No doubt the stars were something to behold, just like every other night. Her reason coming there however… Something she didn’t want to share, especially after what she just heard. Not wanting to hear anything else, [Name] bid the two schemers goodbye before making her way to the spiraling staircase, excited to finally see the stars and, more importantly, not talk for several hours.

“Karl told me we should be meeting them around here. Apparently, there was a Pogrebin sighting around here.”

[Name] nodded at the older Hufflpuff. Just like Karl promised, he found [Name]’s friend without much issue and asked for her assistance--in secret, of course. She was the daughter of a renowned Magizoologist, meaning she wasone of the few students who was experienced enough to deal with Class XXX Beasts such as Pogrebins. Additionally, she was one of the few people [Name] brought around when collecting potion ingredients from the forest and was more than happy to help a friend out.

Both of them glazed their eyes over the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. It was dark out--not an unusual time for them to be out gathering materials; the best and rarest came out at night. An unusual discomfort rose in [Name]’s chest as she continued to stare out into the forest, shocking her a little bit.

She enjoyed the quiet a lot more than she did noise lately and she hoped the Forbidden Forest would be somewhat helpful, even if her she had more company than expected. However, at the moment, she felt as though she’d rather collapse and give up on the search for the Pogrebin.

“It’s close,” the Hufflepuff commented offhandedly. “You feel like you want to collapse, right?” At [Name]’s nod, the older girl continued. “They want you like that. By the time you fall on your knees, they attack and try to eat you.”

“How come you don’t look like you’re affected by it?” [Name] asked.

The Hufflepuff shrugged in response. “I think I’m used to it. Not to mention, I haven’t exactly been having nightmares constantly these past few years.”

“What’s that have to do with Pogrebins trying to eat you?” Another voice chimed in. Both girls looked up, watching as three figures ambled toward them. Sapnap, Karl, and Punz looked more than energetic as they crossed the field. Just like [Name] advised during dinner, they bundled up in clothes and wore boots instead of their signature sneakers. She raised an eyebrow, however, when she noticed them decked out in their Quidditch gear.

“Having nightmares means your mind is more…” Her friend met [Name]’s eyes, trying to find proper words as she explained, “Vulnerable. Pogrebins depend on that vulnerability so the despair can consume you faster.”

“Sounds like something of major concern.” Punz commented, looking between the two girls before looking back at his companions. “Should some of us not be here then?”

“Just make sure you tell me if you’re feeling like you want to fall over. Out here, we can’t hide emotions or else it will quite literally be the death of us.” The Hufflepuff sixth year said as she gripped her wand. “Make sure you know the Stunning Spell by heart; we’ll need that to subdue it. If not, I hope all of you can pack a lot into a kick.”

“We’ll lose the night time if we keep talking,” [Name] said as she turned and walked toward the forest. The feeling of hopelessness had started to get to her, but at her friend’s words she knew better than to succumb to it. “Let’s go.”

“Aye aye, boss.” Karl said, patting Sapnap’s back to urge him forward. “Or should I say girlboss.”

“I swear on Rowena’s grave, Karl…” [Name] started the same time she heard Sapnap let out an amused “Dude.” She stopped her sentence, her eyes flicking back on Sapnap who quieted around the same time she did, meeting her gaze. It wasn’t even a second later did [Name] turn her attention ahead of her, ignoring the way the Pogrebin inducing pity party subsided to let the butterflies in her stomach flutter for a moment.

Of course, it didn’t go unnoticed. It never will if you have someone as analyzing as Punz or as observant of her friend. It only took a second for the sixth years to notice something had happened between them. There wasn’t much conversation besides Karl and Sapnap making jokes only they understood and maybe Punz and asking her friend some questions to pass the time.

They all stopped after a few minutes until they went farther in the woods, where the dirt path forked into two different paths. [Name] shook her head as she spotted her housemate grab Karl by the shoulderpads wordlessly and urged him to move forward. Her Hufflepuff friend, as if reading Punz’s mind, smiled “innocently” [Name]’s way.

“We’ll be close by. You and Sapnap should look on the other end. Remember what I said about the Stuning Spell. Call me if you need anything.” She reminded quickly as she raced toward the blonde and brunette. So much for Hufflepuff hospitality.

[Name] watched in horror as she realized she was alone with Sapnap. They stood in front of one another wordlessly, Sapnap staring straight at her while she scratched her neck as a means to ease her discomfort. Not speaking a word, [Name] just offered a tight smile as she walked forward. She could hear Sapnap give a sigh, not saying anything either as he kept a distance while walking behind her.

She was more than glad he was chose to be quiet. Ever since her encounter with him after hours, her nightmares had only started to include him more and more. She wasn’t sure why it was that way, but she can hear the voice still urging him to wake up.

Wake up to what, though? [Name] thought to herself. Not to mention, whose voice was that?

After a few nights of trying to remember, [Name] was sure it was a woman’s, however it was so distorted she couldn’t sort out whose it was. Maybe once she takes the mind breaking potion, she’ll--

“Watch out!” Sapnap’s voice called out. She felt a pair of arms encase around her, pulling her away from a deteriorating cliff. Just below were a set of dead trees that looked painful if fallen into. Gasping, [Name] turned her body into Sapnap’s, allowing him to hold her tighter in response as he backed themselves away onto safer ground.

Shocked, [Name] still watched the cliff as some of it crumbled away. She felt Sapnap let out a relieved sigh against her, resting his head against a tree behind them as the final waves of adrenaline fell away from them. They let the rest of it go away as they stood with one another, arms still around one another as they watched the edge again.

“Shit…” [Name] said. “I almost died.”

“You almost died.” Sapnap repeated, just as shocked as her. He pulled himself away from her, realizing he was holding her a little longer than he should have. [Name] coughed, an attempt to hide her embarrassment, before turning her attention back to the dark forest. “Karl told me you know the Forbidden Forest like the back of your hand.”

“I do.” [Name] replied, taking offense to Sapnap’s implications. “I was just…”

She bit her lip, willing herself to keep quiet again. How could she tell someone who doesn’t even like her very presence about her nightmares if she can’t even tell her best friends about it? Sighing, she shook her head, waving a hand as if to say it was nothing. Attempting to brush past him, she was stopped when she felt Sapnap’s hand grip her wrist.

It wasn’t like the one at the library, where it was a little too hard and almost quick. This one was gentle and his fingers ghosted just above the veins. Looking up, she met Sapnap’s dark blue ones, which seemed hardened, but not in the way [Name] perceived it to be mad. It was more understanding.

“Is it those nightmares?” Sapnap asked, causing [Name]’s mouth to drop open as she stared at him.

“Who told you--” [Name] started.

“No one. It’s on your face. You have bags under your eyes because you can’t sleep. Your skin looks like it hasn’t seen the sun in days. Not to mention you started acting less and less… Well, you.” Sapnap rambled off, the last point making [Name] huff out a laugh.

“Like you know anything about me.” [Name] accused.

“I don’t.” Sapnap admitted, sounding almost sad as he said the words. “I do know how you usually are with everyone--snappy, kind of a jerk--”

“Hey--”

“--But you haven’t been like that these past few weeks. You’re too exhausted to even let out an answer when Dream takes a dig at you.” Sapnap finished. “Right now, you almost got yourself killed because you didn’t notice something that was so obvious.” [Name]’s jaw tightened as she let her shoulders relax in defeat, knowing the Gryffindor was right.

“You don’t have to tell me everything about whatever’s been keeping you up at night, but it would help to talk about it.” Sapnap said as he led her away from the cliff. “It certainly did with me when I startd having nightmares. Plus we shouldn’t hide much or else we could die, according to your friend.”

“You too?” [Name] asked, curious.

Sapnap nodded, eyes glossing over as he thought over it. “It started happening a year ago. It felt like I was dying. Like I was--”

“Drowning.” [Name] finished for him, realization hitting her as she processed what he said. Sapnap tuned to her, eyes wide as he nodded in confirmation. “Someone’s telling you to--”

“Wake up.” Sapnap said. “How--”

“I’ve had the same nightmare. Dying like I was drowning.” [Name] admitted. “It started two years ago for me. I always thought it was more than nightmares, though. Clearly it is if you’re experiencing the same thing I am…”

[Name] felt herself space out once more, head abuzzed as she tried to think of every possible way as to how it was possible for two people to experience similar dreams. There is no way… Unless--

A scream interrupted [Name]’s pacing. She was quick to jump toward Sapnap, gripping his gear clad arm, fear crawling up her spine. “That’s Karl.” Sapnap remedied, though he said it quieter, as if he was just woke up from a dream or something. Looking at him, [Name] realized he was staring intently at the hands gripping around his arm.

A sigh escaped [Name]’s lips, hands relinquishing their hold on him. She walked ahead, clearly flustered by her own uncharacteristic action. “The Pogrebin must be close by or something.”

Karl’s scream ripping through the forest caused the both of them to pause. It sounded uncharacteristically like his usual high pitched screams--this one had actual fear in it. Drawing his wand, Sapnap speeded past her as he yelled, “I think it’s closer than you think!”

[Name] had no time to argue as she pulled her own wand out, following the sound of the younger Hufflepuff’s voice. They traversed through the trees, Sapnap allowing [Name] to lead the way. Once they realized Karl’s voice was getting closer, [Name] was quick to cast a spell at the foliage, moving apart and causing a shorter path that lead to them seeing Karl run away from a boulder looking creature.

“Pogrebin!” The older Hufflepuff girl informed as she held Punz up in her arms. “It tried attacking Punz and Karl cast a Stunning Spell but it ran off and hit Punz instead!!”

Karl’s horrified screams echoed around the field. [Name] didn’t take a second to hand Sapnap a few big rocks. Understanding her motive, both of them lobbed rocks at the Pogrebin until it stopped to look at them. [Name]’s nose wrinkled as she watched it bare it’s sharp teeth at them before running their way.

“What now?” Sapnap asked, standing behind her as he gripped her shoulders.

“Chicken…” [Name] muttered under her breath as she looked around her. Spotting a long green material, she pointed her wand at it. “Accio vine!”

She wasted no time shoving the other end of the vine into Sapnap’s hands, pushing him as she backed away. The vine tightened, tripping the Pogrebin over as it came closer and closer . “That worked?!” [Name] asked out loud.

“You didn’t think it would?!” Karl asked, shocked that she had not believed in her own plan.

It was Sapnap’s turn to override their shock as he pointed his wand at the still collapsed Pogrebin. “Stupefy!” He commanded, a light casting out from the tip of his hand and directly toward the creature. Not a second did it try to get up did it completely collapse once more, immobilized.

Everyone stood still in the middle of the forest, breathing heavily and staring at one another before Sapnap decided to move, his eyes trained on Punz, who was still on the ground with [Name]’s friend holding him. [Name] gasped as she realized the Hufflepuff had a harsh looking bite mark digging into her arm. It was deep, blood staining the sleeve so much, no one believe it was white previously.

“I was trying to help.” Her friend explained upon noticing [Name]’s trained eyes on her torn arm. “It almost bit Punz’s head off.”

“And it bit you instead!” Punz countered gruffly, finally shaking off the effects of the Stunning Spell. He pushed himself off of her, switching positions as he held onto her, examining her bloodied arm. [Name] watched with narrowed eyes when Punz uncharacteristically ran a hand through her friend’s hair, whispering something only they could hear. That’s a new discovery…

“Can I get some help?” Sapnap called out. [Name] turned her head, watching the Gryffindor try to lift the stunned Pogrebin over. Quickly, she shuffled tugged Karl by the arm and brought themselves over to Sapnap, deciding to give their older friends some privacy.

With the two boys pointing their wand at the creature, [Name] quickly lifted it’s mouth, easing a tooth out with a wordless spell. “Ugh, gross.” She groaned out as she put the bloodied material on a napkin.

“Shouldn’t you be used to this?” Sapnap teased, trying to ease the tension.

“Doesn’t mean I like it. I’d rather watch Romeo and Juliet over there.” [Name] said, motioning her head toward Punz and the Hufflepuff. Both boys turned, watching with great interest as the two spoke silent whispers to one another, hands clasped over each other. Their eyes widened as they watched Punz knock his head against the Hufflepuff girl’s forehead.

Sapnap and Karl’s mouths hung open at the unexpected couple’s subtle romantic display. Sapnap closed it before opening it again, ready to say something. “Don’t,” [Name] interrupted quietly, eyes hardening as she met Sapnap’s. “Let them be concerned for each other. I have a feeling they don’t really get these kinds of moments.”

“A near death experience?” Sapnap asked.

[Name] smacked his shoulder. “You know what I mean. Just leave them alone so stop staring at them. Especially you Karl.”

“She--He--” Karl stuttered. His mouth opened and closed like a fish as he continued to look onward at them. “Dating? She never even mentioned anyone.”

“That’s kind of the whole point of secretly dating, genius.” Sapnap countered. “Now come on; do as she says so we can finish this night already. What even happened anyways?”

“I was feeling left out,” Karl admitted, casting a spell with Sapnap to lift the Pogrebin and settle it farther into the forest. “Punz said he wanted you guys to have some alone time or something. Then those two kept whispering about whatever--though, I’m kind of glad I didn’t bother trying to listen. Didn’t help my little sadness, y’know.”

“I’m sorry, Karl.” [Name] apologized, a sadness waving over her. Since their meeting at the library, her and Karl had spoken enough times to consider one another friends. She was more than sure he had a bit of an idea about her nightmares.

He made sure to constantly pester her about what she needed the mind breaking potion for whenever they met; while she never admitted to it being nightmares, [Name] relinquished some information, some of it still pretty vague. Regardless, he was still someone she considered a friend so completely ignoring him because she was so focused on the idea of being alone with Sapnap made her feel guilty.

Shaking his head, Karl only said, “I shouldn’t have give into that feeling. No one would’ve been attacked if I didn’t let it feed off my emotions.”

“Doesn’t mean we should invalidate them, man.” Sapnap said seriously, clapping a hand over Karl’s shoulder once they put enough distance between themselves and the Pogrebin. “You should’ve been there anyways; apparently she’s been having the same dreams as I am.”

“How is that possible?” Karl inquired, a little shocked at the revelation.

“No clue.” [Name] answered this time as they walked back to their other friends. Once entering the clearing, she spotted her Hufflepuff friend, arms still bloody, but wrapped in gauze--no doubt it being from her bag since [Name] knew no one else would think once about possible injuries. She stood a little off ways from Punz, whose eyes were practically glued to the back of her head. A frown settled on the older girl’s face. Clearly, the conversation turned sour during their time away.

“For now, let’s just get back before the spell wears off that Pogrebin. I don’t think it’ll wake up all giddy missing a tooth.” [Name] said. Both boys nodded, understanding her half assed reasoning before walking up to their friends.

A quiet gasp escaped [Name]’s as she jolted herself awake from her spot at the farthest corner of the library. The nightmare. Again. Like always, it ended with someone calling out Sapnap’s name. [Name] rubbed her eyes, trying to remember farther from the drowning incident. Once she gets the potion made, she was sure she would be able to go farther back in her memories.

“Nightmare again?” A voice chimed in.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t happen.” [Name] said to Karl, leaning back on her seat once she woke up. It had been almost two months since the Pogrebin incident and not much had changed, save for managing to get the rest of the potion materials. The older Hufflepuff girl had to be taken to the St. Mungo’s for treatment since the bite was so deep. [Name] had apologized almost a million times since her return, which was usually met with her light hearted laughter.

“Next time, we can try and see if I can turn my limbs into iron for a few moments.” [Name] recalled her saying. It had really amazed her at how dismissive she had been the whole duration of their conversation. Though, [Name] was more than sure it was because Punz had been there before her.

Since the accident, [Name] made sure to keep her (and sometimes even Punz) away from trying to get involved in her, Sapnap, and Karl’s efforts in making the potion. Occasionally, one of their other friends would be there, helping Karl research the meaning of the nightmares while [Name] and Sapnap tried to figure out how to get the rest of the ingredients.

“Same thing?” Sapnap asked from across from her, breaking her from her thoughts. She didn’t need to provide an answer, just a look that seemed to have said What else? “You should take the deep sleep potion Dream gave you.”

“And not try to figure out what we’ve been seeing?” [Name] countered back. Unlike [Name], Sapnap did his best to have dreamless sleep. His dreams had begun only months ago so he wasn’t quite used to it the way [Name] was, which shocked him when she had told him it had been almost two years since her own started.

Sapnap pointed at his face as he said, “Well, some of us don’t look like we just got punched in the face because of a good night’s sleep.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You look worse than Filch after he’s had a good night’s sleep,” Sapnap said matter-of-factly. “Have you seen yourself lately? You’re so sleep deprived because you keep waking up in the middle of the night and never going back to sleep.”

[Name] glared at Sapnap, though she didn’t bother denying it. In fact, she had seen herself this morning. The bags under her eyes were sunken and dark, a clear indication from lacking in any sleep. Her hair looked like it had been swept by wind coming from every direction. Her skin felt papery and dry from lack of hydration.

Of course she knew what she was doing wasn’t good for her--there were nights before she went to sleep wondering if she should stop herself and take the potion Dream gave her. However, she knew would never stop thinking about the dream--in particular, the mysterious voice--if she tried to ignore it.

“You might be alright with ignoring it, but I’d rather address it head on,” [Name] snapped. “Not that you would know; since you don’t like having conversations with me.”

She turned her head back down to the letter she was writing before she had fallen asleep, ignoring the heaviness of Sapnap’s stare on her at the slight dig. Clearly, he seemed to have remembered that night as much as she did from the way he tensed up.

Karl, seeming to have sensed the tension between the two, immediately changed the subject. “How is the letter to your brother going?”

“Fine.” [Name] said offhandedly. “He said he can get us the shrake spine, but it will take a few more months. I’m just sending a correspondence to say thank you.”

“Does he know about your nightmares?” Karl asked further.

“Yeah, but not by much. No doubt he knows what I’m up to since shrake spines aren’t used too often for things.”

“He must be concerned for you then.”

[Name] let out a laugh, smirking at Karl as she said, “Not necessarily. He’s more in for half of the money Sapnap paid me to get the shrake spine. I don’t blame him, though. 50 Galleons is a lot.”

“Just so you know, that was two year’s worth of Galleons. I felt like a portion of my life went away.” Sapnap butted in.

Karl let out a quiet laugh at her joke, [Name] joining him soon after. They continued their conversation, Sapnap commenting every now and then, though [Name] did notice a significant drop in his attitude since her implication of having knowledge of his hurtful comment all those months ago. They carried on with their work, bringing up small things every now and then as Karl and Sapnap did the research as [Name] wrote the correspondence letter.

Almost an hour went by when all three of them looked up when they heard footsteps coming by. “Eyyy--” Quackity started, but was abruptly stopped when they were interrupted by a George hushing him, motioning that they were in a library.

“Quackity, George! What’s up?” Sapnap said, visibly relaxing at the sight of his friends.

“We came to tell you we found something. About your little night terrors being connected.” George said, motioning at some scrolls underneath his arm. Quackity waved a book that was held tightly in his hands, handing it to [Name]. George handed Sapnap the scrolls, who took no time unrolling the scroll on their long table.

[Name] could only catch a few words such as “connection” and “visions” before her eyes furrowed in confusion at the mess of writing. Shaking her head, she looked back at the book Quackity handed over to her. The middle of the book had piece of scrap paper wedged between it, the writing not legible just yet since it was hidden within the book. Opening the book, she caught the note as she read the passage in front of her carefully.

Typically, it is rare even in the Wizarding World for two people to share visions. There have been instances as of recent, however it was out of special circumstances and the connection was made out of pure accident since one of the individuals was intended to be dead. In extremely special cases, when two individuals share the same visions, it is typically because there is a possibility they had a strong bond in a previous or multiple--

“A mind connection? ‘Usually connected due to circumstances regarding past lives’?” Sapnap interrupted, looking up from his spot as he pointed at a portion of the scroll. “Is that even possible?”

“Clearly it is.” George said, looking between [Name] and Sapnap. “If you two are having identical visions and there’s multiple accounts, then it’s definitely something close to that. The scroll was sent to Eret from one of the archives at the Ministry of Magic and the book was from a few years ago. I think Dream’s girlfriend looked through it as well. She even wrote a note.”

At the mention of her dormmate, [Name] looked down at the scrap of paper in her hands, looking down at her neat handwriting as she read the words “SOUL LINK/SOULMATES?” in heavy black ink. A frown settled on her face as she read the words over and over. Her and Sapnap? Soulmates? She would have believed time traveling to be real sooner than making that assumption.

Flipping through a few more pages in the book, she noticed a few sentences were highlighted, detailing the indications of soul links.

Strong emotions when affecting the other.

The night when I was trying to go to the Astronomy Tower.

Explosive or synched reactions.

When we were helping get rid of that Pogrebin.

Comfort in one another.

When we found out about each other having the same dreams...

Sapnap motioned for the book, [Name] handing it to him without any question, watching as a heavy blush settled on his face as he processed the words. Running a hand over his unshaven face, he avoided [Name]’s eyes as he handed the book back. Typically, she would have laughed at him, but there was no way she would right now because she was just as flustered as him; she just took it in a calmer way.

George, clearly understanding the damage he caused, smiled as he said, “I think you two need to talk. Go for a walk. We’ll clean up for you two.”

[Name] opened her mouth, ready to counter, but was immediately shut down by Karl who pulled her out of her seat before tugging Sapnap out of his. Both did their best to protest as they were tugged out of the library, but was silenced by not only Karl, but by Madam Pince. [Name] only managed to get her Hufflepuff friend’s name out of her lips by the time they were out of the library.

“Karl--”

“Talk.” Karl said simply, looking between the two. A sneaky smile fell on his lips when he added, “Now that we know what the weird tension is between you two, I’d suggest behaving.”

“Dude.” Sapnap said defensively, but was cut off shortly at the shutting of a door. Both stared at the library door, mouths agape in shock as they heard his all too familiar giggling from behind it.

“I can’t believe them…” [Name] trailed off, annoyance waving off her. She didn’t even manage to get her canvas bag before being pushed out...

Sapnap could only nod in agreement. “Dream’s girlfriend probably told dumbed the theory down for George and Quackity before they came here and wanted us to find out ourselves. There’s no way those two would’ve been able to figure it out without help.”

[Name] fought back a smile at the Gryffindor’s implication of his friends’ obliviousness to detail. “Like you haven’t done that before? Last I remembered, we wouldn’t have been in this situation if someone didn’t ask me to help him out.”

“I have valid reasons. I actually admit to being stupid while those two don’t.” Sapnap replied back haughtily, though [Name] can see a faint smile at her reminder. “Anyways, I think we need to have a much needed talk.”

“About the soulmate thing.” [Name] stated.

“About the soulmate thing.” Sapnap confirmed with a nod. “And… I kinda need to apologize for that night when we were out past curfew.”

“You mean the time where you said I wasn’t easy to talk to and you never wanted to do it again?” [Name] reminded coyly, making Sapnap burn red but still glare weakly.

“Like I said, I can admit when I’m being stupid. That was me being stupid and not bothering to get to know you more,” Sapnap said candidly. “I really am sorry about that night, though. You were going through as much as I was and I never considered your feelings and--and--”

[Name] sighed, shaking her head as she watched him struggle to say the next words. She put a hand on his shoulder to halt his stuttering, a smile on her face as she attempted to subdue his ranting. “We can just ignore it happened, alright Sapnap? I said some awful things as well; we should probably just ignore it and try to find a way to make that mind breaking potion.”

“But we can’t.” Sapnap opposed as he took hold of [Name]’s hand on his shoulder, removing there but not bothering to stop holding it. He either didn’t notice the growing blush on his face or chose to ignore it as he stared at their conjoined hands. “We really can’t. Especially after this whole soulmate thing being revealed.”

“You can’t possibly think it’s real, could you?” [Name] asked meekly, this time being the shy one at the mention of their soul link. “There could be other possible explanations.”

Sapnap brought his head up, eyes questioning her as he leaned forward. “We’re literally trying to find a way to look into identical dreams we’ve been having, which could possibly--and most likely is--a memory from our past lives because of a soul link. There’s no other way there’s other possible explanation.”

[Name] swallowed her nervousness down as she stared into Sapnap’s eyes, searching for a sign of falter. Was he only saying this out of duty or was it because he really did like the idea of them being soulmates? She was going to admit it to herself, but she couldn’t help but be happy it was Sapnap of all people to be connected to.

Why exactly? She had no idea why. Maybe it was a subconscious thing--their past lives being attached to one another and all--but a part of her had found him a lot more interesting, their little quarrels subsided, than she’d like to admit ever since the night at the Forbidden Forest all those months ago. She wouldn’t jump on the word love but crushing was definitely an option…

She would never admit it, though, especially to Sapnap of all people. Instead, she said, “You kind of were stupid for saying that.”

“Look, in my defense, you were being pretty standoffish.” Sapnap defended, shoulders relaxing as his jubilant persona started to come out more. A grin settled on his face as he leaned in closer. [Name] made sure to lean back, rolling her eyes as she realized he was starting to come back. “Come on, admit it.”

“I never said I’d never deny it, even though I think it’s pretty valid to not want my bones to, y’know, break. You can break yours all you want, but I myself would rather avoid pain and suffering as much as possible if I can allow it.” [Name] informed matter-of-factly.

“Spoken like a true Slytherin.” Sapnap laughed out, squeezing her hand as it intensified. “So what do you say? Truce? I know you’re kind of on the cusp of all this ‘soulmate’ thing, but we’re going to be connected to each other whether you like it or not and I’d rather have us get along instead of arguing all the time--”

“Truce.” [Name] finalized, hushing his ramblings at the utterance of the word. This time, it was her turn to squeeze his hand.

“Truce.” Sapnap repeated, smiling.

Pulling her coat tighter, [Name] glared at her housemates as she shivered in the stands with them. “Remind me why I said yes to coming to a Quidditch game with you.”

“Because you love me?” Her housemate asked. “And your boyfriend asked you to.”

“Sapnap isn’t my boyfriend!” [Name] snapped, blush evident on her face. Sure, ever since they caled a truce, they began to be around each other more, though there was very minimal changes. Instead of explosive arguing whenever they had a disagreement, they usually chose to talk to one another about it so their conversations were significantly less anger fueled and any awkwardness between them was completely gone. “We’re just--”

“Soulmates.” Minx finished from beside her, looping an arm around her. “Yeah we get it.”

“Soulmates don’t need to date just because they’re connected, y’know.” [Name] informed, nudging her other friend. “You should know that; you’re the one that told me about it.”

Her dormmate rolled her eyes at the lame excuse. “Yeah I remember. I also remember Sapnap lending you his scarf and asking you to cheer for him when he’s up against our house.”

[Name] tugged her coat over her neck, trying to hide the red and gold scarf Sapnap had given her before heading off to his team. He had asked her to cheer for him jokingly in passing as he left, but [Name] was sure he was being a little bit serious. Regardless of the joke, she was more than happy to follow through with it, though she would never admit that to her friend or Minx.

“You’re just upset because Dream is upset,” [Name] said. Dream had come to visit his girlfriend right before the game started. He was observant as ever when he spotted the scarf sticking out from the rest of her green attire. Needless to say, she had a bit of a telling off from her housemate that went somewhere along the lines of cozying up to the enemy. As if he wasn’t going to address the fact that Sapnap was his longest friend. “I swear you two are more in sync than Sapnap and I--and we have a valid reason for that, need I remind you.”

“That’s what happens when you’re in a relationship.” The Slytherin girl countered, smile on her face as she prepared her next words. “You and Sapnap have it easy; you have it pre-built in your systems.”

“We’re not--”

“AND GRYFFINDOR IS THE WINNER!” HBomb’s voice echoed across the field, garnering a cheer from the opposite end of the field. From across the field [Name] watched in amusement as Gryffindor and it’s supporters went wild, becoming even more hectic when the Gryffindor Quidditch team lined up in front of them.

A smile crossed her face as she spotted Sapnap’s white bandana flying throug his dark hair as he circled around his housemates, fist pumping. It widened even more when he turned to high five Quackity, giving his fellow Beater, before spotting her. He waved a hand her way before motioning it around her neck. Clearly he was asking about the scarf.

Ruffling a hand inside her coat, she pulled it out, motioning it for him to see that it was still around her neck. He seemed to have enjoyed the action, turning back to cheer even louder to the crowd in front of him. A laugh left [Name]’s lips as he flew a few laps around the field.

“Ooh.” Minx teased, nudging [Name]. “That’s not very friend like.”

[Name] could only roll her eyes as she watched everyone make their way down from the stands. Tugging on Minx’s arms, she urged her friends to get down, wanting to get away from the wind.

“Wait! [Name]!” A voice halted her. Turning her head, she watched as Sapnap flew toward the Slytherin stands, arm waving to get her attention. [Name] barely even heard Minx’s jibes as she let her go, pushing her away quickly and running off. [Name] gripped her arms to her sides tighter as she made her way over to him, blocking the bright reflection of the clouds to look up at Sapnap.

His dark hair was pushed back by his bandana, letting the chilly air blow on his face to help himself cool down from the long game. He had shaved a few days ago, but a beard was beginning to grow around his jaw once more, adding more into his rugged look. A wolfish grin made its way to his face once they were within speaking range. [Name] did her best to fight off the churning in her stomach as she came closer.

“Congratulations on the win.” [Name] complemented, smiling back at him. She reached for his scarf, assuming he had called her over to take it back.

A hand settled a top of her’s halting her from removing it around her neck. “Keep it.” Sapnap said as he came down on the stands. “I like it on you. Plus, I think you’re my lucky charm when you wear that; my team scored so many goals.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” [Name] said, feeling blood rushing to her cheeks as she ignored his first statement. “Dream will be pretty upset.”

“Well, he can be a big pissbaby all he wants; his girlfriend is there to make sure he doesn’t cry.” Sapnap said dismissively, laughing when he caught [Name] let out a muffled laugh underneath his scarf. Leaning against his broom, he let his eyes settled on her, lingering mainly on his scarf around her. [Name] looked away, flustered at his blatant actions. “Listen, there’s a party at Gryffindor Tower to celebrate the win. I know you’re kind of with the opposing team--”

“I beg to differ.” [Name] interrupted as she lifted his scarf, waving it in front of his face. Sapnap’s grin widened, though it turned a little shyer than the last one.

“--and everyone is technically invited, but I wanted to ask if you… Wanted to come with me? It doesn’t start until seven and you honestly don’t need to go if you don’t want--”

“I’ll go.” [Name] interrupted.

“You will?” Sapnap asked, excited. At her nod, Sapnap let out a loud Yes!, the words echoing around the empty field. Giggling, [Name] turned, ready to let him celebrate his successful effort. She hadn’t seen Sapnap snap his attention back to her, jogging up behind her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

Mouth agape, [Name] ghosted her fingers over her flushed cheek, watching as Sapnap ran off, yelling out “I’ll pick you up at 6:50!” as he jumped back on his broom and disappeared.

[Name] fiddled with her skirt as she laughed at Dream's scowling face in the common room. "Oh, stop your little pouting session, you big baby." [Name] chastised as she elbowed her friend. "Plus, you never acted like this whenever Slytherin loses since all your friends are on their own Quidditch teams."

"I don't have an issue with losing," Dream stated, frowning as he watched [Name] huff out a laugh. "I have an issue with one of my own housemates colluding with the enemies."

"He wasn't an enemy before the game. He's your best friend." Dream's girlfriend corrected, glaring at his childish behavior.

"He asked her out on a date!" Dream emphasized.

"Not a date." [Name] corrected the blonde.

"Oh so I guess that little kiss he planted on your cheek was just between friends, huh?" Dream asked, laughing when [Name] gaped at him in shock. How does he manage to know everything that happens with him and his friends so much? "Oh come on, it doesn't take rocket science to see that dopey look on his face afterwards. He only gets that way with girls he likes."

[Name] shook her head at Dream, choosing to ignore the fact that she so happened to be a girl he possibly likes. "He invited you, too."

"Yeah, but I didn't get a kiss on the cheek."

"Because he knows better." Dream's girlfriend joked, planting a kiss on his cheek to calm him down. She turned to [Name] with a smile. "I think it's great you and Sapnap get along, dating or not. I don't know why it never never occurred to me that there was a reason why you two were like that."

"Why would you say that?" [Name] inquired, curious.

Dream spoke up this time. "For starters, you're both a pain in the ass when you want to make a point. Always arguing even if you can be wrong."

"Not possible. I'm always right."

"There's also whatever that is you just displayed."

"Confidence." Dream's girlfriend offered, settling her fingers to pinch his cheeks as punishment. "You both just display it differently. Sapnap through physicality and you through your knowledge."

"Not to mention it's like both of you have some empath connection. It's like you both can feel each other's emotions and feed off it at the same time even way before. Y'know how many times he practically kicked himself for like two years after the salad bowl incident? He couldn't even explain it; he just felt bad." Dream said.

Did he really think about it for that long? [Name] asked herself. She barely even remembered that day, only recalling nearly crying her eyes out in embarrassment as she allowed the Head Girl to help her remove the salad dressing out of her hair in the Prefect bathroom. Something in her chest swelled, though. Possibly at the thought of how strong a bond could be. Possibly at the thought that Sapnap was capable of mulling over an incident as small as that. [Name] wondered if he still thinks about the time she caught him saying those negative admissions about her.

"[Name], Sapnap's here." Minx called out from the door. A look of disgust waved over her as she frowned at the doorway. "Hurry before his Gryffindor stench reeks this whole common room."

"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Sapnap's voice boomed from behind the door. Letting out a laugh, she bid her housemates goodbye (and flipped Dream off when she heard him mutter "Don't stray from the path." under his breath), opening the door and smiling at Sapnap. The party was casual, obvious through Sapnap's choice of clothing being a white shirt over a black long sleeve. He wore black cargo pants and some expensive looking shoes. He still had his bandana on as well.

[Name] practically felt overdressed in her skirt and blouse. But I always wear this as casual. She argued to herself, slightly straightening her back in confidence. It shot up even more when she realized Sapnap had not spoken a word yet, still staring at her as his mouth hung ajar. "You okay..? I think you'll catch a fly if you don't shut your mouth" [Nams] teased.

Hiding his blunder with a cough, Sapnap nodded. "Right. Um. Yeah. You look great. I just forgot you had style."

Way to ruin it. "I'd say you have it, too, but I'm not one to lie." [Name] responded, laughing loudly when Sapnap sputtered out insults. Shoving his shoulder forward, she urged the Gryffindor to lead the way. They talked the whole way to the Gryffindor common room, most of it being banter and loads of teasing.

"Okay we're here." Sapnap said, opening the door. [Name] backed out of the way as they realized that once the door had opened, a plate of something came flying at them. Quickly, she walked behind Sapnap as a means to try and block herself from being a target again. Puffy wasn't kidding when she said Gryffindors partied like crazy. Sapnap didn't even seem phased, only bobbing and weaving naturally whenever someone's hand almost hit him. "Guys, I told you to watch over the party while I picked her up."

"Sorry, I was kind of busy keeping Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum from causing twice the damage than now." George admitted as he jammed a thumb behind him. [Name] held a look of amusement as she met Quackity's eyes. He couldn't so much as say hi, though, since he seemed to have had a Silencing Charm casted on him as he screamed something, but no sound coming out.

Karl was sat beside him, his hands bound by rope. He managed to raise both hands, though, as he waved excitedly at [Name]. "Glad to see you here. We weren't sure you'd come since it was your team that lost."

"If Dream can push his ego aside to come with his tail between his legs, then I can do it." [Name] said with a smile. "Besides, I'm not really big on Quidditch. I only came because I was forced to."

"Well aren't you glad you came? You wouldn't have been asked out on a date." George said smugly, eyeing Sapnap through his signature shades.

"It's not a date." Sapnap and [Name] argued together.

"Wow, you're even in sync." Quackity piped up once George said a counter spell for his Silencing Charm. "That's so cute."

"Stop it." Sapnap said, putting his hands on [Name]'s shoulders and maneuvering her away from them. "I only brought her here so she can say hi to Karl, which she did, so now we're going over there and you're staying over here. Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"No promis--OW! Okay!" George snapped, rubbing his leg as he glared at Karl, who looked back innocently, as if all five of them hadn't seen him punch the Ravenclaw with his still bound hands. He gave an obvious sly thumbs up toward Sapnap, however, and [Name] only rolled her eyes when she met his grinning gaze.

Once the two reached the other side of the room, Sapnap handed her a drink, letting silence between them continue as they took a break from the chaos surrounding them. "Sorry about them. They like to embarrass me." Sapnap said after a moment.

"That's what friends do. We haven't been friends for long and we both do our best to humiliate each other in public all the time." [Name] reminded with a laugh.

Sapnap laughed with her. "I guess you're right. I kinda thought it's because of this whole soulmate thing, but we probably would have been good friends even if the bond didn't exist and we talked more those past years."

"We really would've." [Name] said, smiling as she thought back on her conversation with Dream. Of course it was Sapnap who managed to confirm Dream's observations while claiming they could have been friends even without their souls being linked.

“Thinking about something?” Sapnap asked. A smile was thrown her way when their eyes met.

[Name] offered a nod as she put her drink up to her lips. “The shrake spine--it’s on it’s way over in a few days. We should be able to look back at our memories soon..” She decided to say, not wanting to admit her fondness.

Immediately, Sapnap’s eyes glimmered in excitement. “Really? Now we can finally see what those dreams are all about.”

“Yeah...” [Name] said, though she wasn’t entirely sure what to feel. Was she really ready to look into the night terrors that have been haunting her for so many years?

Sapnap seemed to have understood her sudden solemness, though, nudging her side as he spoke. “Hey, no going back now. We can finally see what’s been getting at us. And more importantly…” He lifted his hand hesitantly, letting it hover close to [Name]’s face. Dragging a thumb under [Name]’s eye, Sapnap let himself get lost in his thought before continuing to speak “You can finally get some sleep.”

[Name] did her best to fight off a blush as she looked down. “That is a pretty promising outcome, not gonna lie. A 6+ hour sleep with no interruption sounded like something unattainable a year ago. It’s a good thing we found each other then.” She teased him, bumping her shoulder against his.

“Is there some kind of hidden context behind that?” Sapnap asked her, making [Name] look up at him, confused.

“Meaning?” [Name] asked, knowing what he was implying. She denied their friends’ dating claims despite being obvious with each other’s feelings toward one another. [Name] only kept claiming there was only a friendship between them despite crossing a few lines with one another (Sapnap’s kiss on her cheek being a prime example) because neither of them seemed want to bring up the elephant in the room until now.

And [Name] wasn’t going to waste a chance with this.

“Well, I mean, we’re already soulmates right?” Sapnap started, watching as [Name] nodded. “And we like each other--”

“Do we now?” [Name] questioned, laughing when Sapnap shoved her shoulder and turned to leave. She called out his name, reaching for his arm as she continued her giggling, urging him to come back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help it. I know where you’re going, though.”

“So you’ll say yes if I ask you out?” Sapnap asked, fully turning his attention to [Name].

[Name] hummed out, thinking for a minute as she tapped her finger’s against his bicep in thought. “Yes. After I get some sleep and won’t look like this mess.”

[Name] motioned around her face, still riddled with exhaust. Sapnap nodded, seeming to like the arrangement. “I would’ve taken you out, with that needed sleep or not; you look good regardless.”

All she was the deep green water as she spun herself this way and that. The man in her arms was dragging her down, but there was no way she would leave him in the water. This was supposed to be a normal day out with her husband. He promised to take her to somewhere special. But the boat turned over somehow.

Now here she was trying to drag her husband out the water because his head managed to hit the heavy oar he had in his hands when they tipped over. Once she reached to shore, she dragged looked around before finding land. “James, hang in there!” She yelled over at him through the raging water.

Worry grew over her when he didn’t answer. She swam faster, cursing herself for not securing her wand closer to her body. It was somewhere in the water now; she’ll have to revive him the Muggle way. Once they reached land, she didn’t hesitate to crawl up to him and start doing chest compressions, pressing her lips against his after a certain amount of harsh pumps.

“C’mon, wake up! Wake up, James, wake up!” She urged, as if hoping her shouts would help revive him. She continued this for what felt like hour, pushing her palms against his chest, occasionally tapping his face as she yelled out James’s name, before he coughed, water leaving his mouth.

“Adeline--Addie.” James gasped out the minute he managed to get himself together. He continued to cough, letting out a huff when Addie let out a scream of relief, settling herself on his chest. “Addie. Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” Addie snapped, tears streaming down her face. James’s cold thumbs ran across her cheeks, urging the tears away. “You idiot. You didn’t have to grab the oar when we were falling already! What good would that do.”

James let out a laugh, running a tired hand over her hair as he said, “I was making sure it wouldn’t hit you. Of course you’d still focus on calling me an idiot when I was practically dying.”

“You’re an idiot!” Addie sobbed.

James nodded. “I know. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy you as many chocolate frogs for the rest of your life. I know how much you like them.”

Addie laughed, letting it continue until it faded…

[Name] gasped herself awake, groaning when she felt a hand run over her hair. “You know that makes me want to sleep again, Sapnap.”

“If it means you get to stay on me, so be it.” Sapnap countered, running his hand over her hair again. “Dream about our past lives again?”

[Name] nodded, settling herself back on his chest as she looked at the mountains they could see plainly from their spot under the tree they were laying on. It had been two years since they re-lived those memories, when they managed to make the potion. [Name] didn’t remember much that day since it had taken most of her and Sapnap’s energy since going through your past memories was uncommon--one could say it was even more rare than finding your soulmate.

She remembered their past names, though. James and Adeline. When she looked them up, it was found that they were wealthy land owners who had no children. Unlike [Name] and Sapanap, they were not aware of the depth of their relationship, though they subconsciously brought themselves together. [Name] almost busted a lung when she found that Sapnap’s past life was the Slytherin and her’s was the Gryffindor.

Sapnap was more shocked with the concept, nearly having a breakdown as he realized their personalities were quite similar to their current selves so why had he gotten into Slytherin his past life? He made sure [Name] never told a soul, knowing full well that Dream would use this against him.

“You seem to like that dream.” Sapnap quipped, tangling his fingers through [Name]’s hair. “Thought you’d hate it since it made you lose all that sleep.”

“It did, but I just like re-living the fact that you were still the biggest idiot in our past relationship. I can’t believe you reached for an oar of all things and you managed to let that hit your head--AHHH!” [Name] was cut off when she felt Sapnap attack her sides, laughing hysterically at his silencing method and hitting his arms at the same time.

Of course, it was to no avail--afterall, he was already signed to be a part of a Quidditch team, meaning he had to stay at his top shape. Sapnap only rolled over, essentially trapping [Name] beneath him. “Shut up.” He said as he pressed his lips against her’s.

Humming, [Name] grabbed his face, keeping him in place before forcing him away. They looked at each other, admiring each other’s features for a moment. Running her thumbs under Sapnap’s eyes, [Name] pressed her lips under both of them before whispering, “Remind me to charm a life jacket on you twice once we get on Sam’s boat.”

“Y’know what--” Sapnap started, grabbing [Name]’s sides and shaking her gently. They continued their play fighting, Sapnap and [Name] occasionally exchanging a kiss until they heard [Name]’s brother call for them.

“As happy as I am to see you all happy, I don’t really wanna see you tackling and then making out with my sister so much.” Sam admonished.

Sapnap pulled away regardless, pulling [Name] up and hugging her close to his side. He hadn’t been phased the least bit by his dig, quite used to his friends already egging on him for being so affectionate with [Name]. “Hey, man I’m just doing this to appease her so when I vomit on her on the boat she won’t feel so annoyed with me.”

Sam howled out in laughter, dodging [Name]’s punches. He clapped hands with Sapnap, nodding in approval. “Good move. I should try that next time.”

“What do you mean by that?” [Name] asked almost immediately, raising an eyebrow at her older brother. Sam, realizing his revelation, only looked away. “Sam, do you have a partner?”

“Not saying anything.” The green haired man said, turning and walking away.

[Name] broke off from Sapnap, sprinting toward the tall man, who ran away upon hearing her hurrying footsteps. “Sam! Stop running and tell me!”

“No way! Go make out with Sapnap!”

It was Sapnap’s turn to respond, running after [Name] as he repeatedly yelled, “Listen to the man, [Name]!”

Over the moon

Summary: Steven takes you out, Marc continues to be in denial about his feelings.

This is the squeal to Moon Struck in which Steven asks you out, and Marc falls in love.

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader

Word Count: ~8.3k

Warnings: mostly fluff, pining, angst mostly from Marc because he's just like that

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please, please, please let me know what you think!

“You look bloody gorgeous!” Steven exclaims when he opens the flat’s door to find you in a dress on the other side. “Divine really, love.” 

He reaches out for your hand and tugs you across the threshold as you giggle and accept the compliment. “Thank you, Steven,” you say and his heart soars. 

He’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name. 

You grip his hand a bit tighter for balance and bend down to tug off one heel at a time. Steven can only stare at you, at the curve of your hips, the neckline of your dress that shows off more cleavage than you would usually. 

You simply glow, your skin radiant in the warm light of the apartment. 

“She looks beautiful,” Marc says, so softly that Steven almost misses it. 

When you straighten and let go of Steven’s hand to smooth the fabric of your dress, Steven takes the opportunity to glance at the fishtank. He finds Marc’s reflection staring at you with a softness that he reserves only for you. 

It's a softness that he tries to hide from Steven, even though Steven is the one constantly telling Marc to get a grip and do something about his feelings for you already. 

He probably doesn’t want Steven to repeat the message but he does it anyways because Marc was starting to become bloody unbearable with the way he pined for you. 

“Marc says you look beautiful, love,” Steven says. 

Marc makes an irritated noise at Steven’s meddling and goes quiet. 

Fine with him, Marc could brood in silence at his passing along the compliment if he well pleased. 

You glance up and look a tiny bit flustered. “Oh, well, thank you both, very much. You don’t think I’m overdressed for this? I wish you would have told me which restaurant so that I could have-,” 

Steven shakes his head, “You’ll see soon enough that you're dressed exactly right.” 

You smile and step closer to him, Steven’s breath hitching in his lungs at your proximity like he hasn’t been dating you for months now, like you don’t shower him with affection all the time, kiss him all the time, take every opportunity to tuck yourself against him. 

He dips his head close to yours, the smell of your perfume intoxicating to him, sweet like summer rain. You reach up to smooth your fingers carefully over the collar of his shirt, pressing it back into place, adjusting his jacket on his shoulders before popping the top button of his shirt open. 

Your fingers touch the necklace always looped around his throat and his breath catches when he feels the warm press of your fingers against his collarbone. 

“You look quite smart yourself, baby,” you murmur, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. 

And Steven really loves that, loves how you call him baby. 

You step closer to him and tilt your chin up, eyes sparkling in the low light. He admires the way your lashes flutter, the careful way you applied your makeup. The line of your body is pressed against his and Steven has to fight down the urge to spit out a fact he’d just remembered about the exact shade of blue you were wearing. 

He wants to admire you for just a moment longer, enjoying the press of your hand to the back of his neck, the stutter in your breath when you nudge your nose against his cheek gently. 

“She wants you to kiss her,” Marc says quietly, making Steven glance up and over, but Marc isn’t looking at him and he isn’t looking at you either. He’s pointedly staring away, jaw clenched. 

When Steven looks back to you, you’re frowning, eyes turned toward the fishtank now too. “Marc isn’t happy I’m here, is he?”

“Er-,” 

Truthfully, Steven doesn’t know what to say about Marc anymore. 

He’d thought that after you spent the night together the day you were attacked in the alleyway, that things would get easier. 

Steven remembers it after all, the glow of emotions that swelled inside them both, the way Marc had stayed with you and monitored you well beyond what was necessary, how he’d watched the show you suggested, played cards with you through the night until he was absolutely satisfied that you did not have a concussion, how he’d massaged your sore legs, insisted on a heat pack to ease the pain. 

And since that night, he’s refused to front again when you were around. 

“He’s chuffed,” he settles on. “Just being a bit broody as usual.” 

“Because of me.” 

“No,” Steven rushes to reassure you. “No, he’s just -,” 

“She’s your girl, Steven,” Marc cuts in suddenly, voice harsh. “Not mine. I’m indifferent to whether or not she’s here.” 

Steven freezes at the words, watching you tilt your head to the side in askance. When he doesn’t say anything, feelings a bit fuzzed inside his veins, you smile and reach up to run your hands through his hair, adjusting a stray curl against his forehead before you say, “It’s okay. He doesn’t have to be.” And you seem like you really mean that. “I think I upset him when I ask after him so I’ll stop. I won’t bother him anymore.” 

“You aren’t a bother-,” 

“I am though. I get it, I’ve been unbearably annoying for a long time now. You’re always happy to see me and that’s all that matters,” you laugh and check the time on your ever present wristwatch, really seeming okay. But Steven is glad you don’t ask what Marc said, because despite what you say, he knows it would hurt your feelings. And Steven does not lie to you. “Didn’t you say the reservation is at 8? We should get going or we’ll be late.” 

Steven glances at the fishtank again, at the way Marc is staring at you, regret and hope lodged in his eyes. 

“It’s better this way,” Marc says when you go to the kitchen for a glass of water before you head out. “Trust me.” 

“Marc, you idiot,” is all Steven has the patience to mutter back. 

~

Steven sways you gently from side to side, his arms warm around your waist. 

You had arrived a bit late to dinner, but that was only because Steven got distracted with telling you of a myth he’d rediscovered recently in a text he’d found in a secondhand bookshop. 

The myth therefore had taken more precedent than actually making it to the restaurant on time. “Oh dear, we’re quite a while away yet,” Steven had said as your reservation time neared. 

You did not mind, had worn comfortable heels just in case you ended up wandering about rather than finding your way to the restaurant. 

Thankfully, they had still been holding your table, even as a flustered Steven apologized to you over and over. 

“Tell me to shut my trap and pay attention, yeah? That’s what I keep you around for after all. To keep my mind on track.” 

“Oh, is that all?” 

You liked the pretty dark flush that crept up his neck, stained his cheeks.

“Definitely not all, no.” Steven is romantic in a way that makes your heart flutter, a painful little dance in your chest, and that moment was no different. “You are so many things to me, love. Bit brilliant of you, innit, to take up my whole world like that?” 

You could really only kiss him in response. Words would never properly express the things he made you feel completely inadvertently.

After you finally ate, Steven had nervously asked you if you’d like to dance. A few older couples had already made their way to the lowly lit dance floor. 

It was incredibly romantic, the gold glow of the lamps, the sweetly quiet music. 

“Was a bit nervous about tonight actually,” he murmurs to you and you pull back from where your cheek is pressed against his shoulder to look into those dark eyes. He’s smiling at you softly, eyes round, brows sloped gently up. 

“Oh,” you say, sliding your hands down his chest and then up to link behind his neck, thumbs rubbing circles against the edge of his jaw. “And why is that? We’ve been on lots of dates.” 

This was your first proper dinner date though. 

Your first date ever had been to a falafel place, Steven nervously chatting your ear off about every little thing that crossed his mind. Afterwards, you had gone to a bookstore. 

You aren’t sure that you’d said more than 10 words at dinner. But when he brought you to the bookstore, he’d listened intently to every little thing you said as though anything that passed your lips was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. 

Every date after that had consisted of cozy nights in, rewatching old shows, puzzling through ancient Egyptian texts together though you had close to no idea what you were looking at, cooking together, letting Steven teach you French, playing cards and board games. 

“Well,” Steven says now, turning you in a lazy circle, one arm firm around your waist. “Someone here is a professional dancer aren’t they? You. And I’ve got two left feet most days.”

“This isn’t the kind of dancing I do you know.” 

“I certainly hope not,” he murmurs. “Twirling in a circle. How silly.” 

“I do occasionally twirl in a circle,” you tease. 

“Bit more complicated than this though, innit?” 

You press your thumb to the center of his chin and angle his head down. Steven follows your touch easily, his mouth a soft line, warm hands dropping just a bit lower on your hips. “Most days,” you murmur, tipping your head up, hoping he would kiss you. 

Steven’s head tilts away from you suddenly, just like it had earlier at the apartment when you thought he would kiss you. He looks vaguely irritated. You follow his gaze to his reflection in the glassware, and try not to feel the sting of hurt. 

You have a suspicion Marc is purposefully disrupting each kiss you try to pull from Steven. 

It hurts more than you would like to admit. 

You’d thought that after the night you were attacked he would have been just a tiny bit more endeared to you. 

While you don’t expect him to care about you as Steven does, you hoped he would at least stop hating you so much. Marc had even made a point to tell you that he did not hate you, had cared for you so carefully that you decided to believe him. 

He’d been so kind that night, so careful of you, and sweet, that you’d thought surely he’d at least come to accept you as a part of Steven’s life. 

But apparently not. 

Apparently, you were not good enough. 

Not for Marc, and not for Steven either. 

And some days, you can’t help but agree. 

Lately, everything was going wrong. The dance company you worked at was demanding and you felt recently like you couldn’t keep up. The load kept getting heavier and you weren’t sure how you would keep bearing it. 

It was why you’d been so glad for this night, for Steven to dote on you as he always has without any prompting. You think Steven really does adore you, sees the world when he looks at you. 

You glance away from him, because if his alter and you agreed on anything it was that Steven was much too good for you. 

You tug yourself away from Steven, giving him a shaky smile. “I’m rather tired, Steven-,” 

“Oh! Of course, you’re in those awful shoes - not that the shoes are awful they’re quite nice looking, make your legs look bloody fantastic -,” he stutters to a stop, swallowing hard when an unexpected laugh bursts free from you. “There I go again, just saying the first thing that pops into my mind -,” 

You take his hand and tug him back to your table. “You think I have nice legs, so?” 

“Y-yes, I quite do.” 

It makes your heart lighten just a little bit, Steven tugging your chair closer to his so that he can keep a grip on your hand. “I just wanted to say, maybe your feet are hurting a bit and we don’t want none of that. Not with your performances coming up.”

You nod, an ache beginning in the center of your chest as you watch Steven try to flag down a waiter for another glass of wine for you. “Hey,” you say gently, when the waiter leaves your table and his eyes drift back to the slow moving couples on the dance floor, “You know I love you, right?”

“And I love you, love,” he chirps immediately, smiling even as pink creeps up his neck. “Very much I do. How could I not? Brilliant as you are.” 

You pat his hand, your heart sinking as his eyes flicker back to his reflection in the glassware and wonder what Marc could be saying.  

~

“When she tilts her chin up like that, she wants you to kiss her,” Marc says, jamming his finger against the on button of the coffee pot with more force than necessary. 

Maybe Steven didn’t see the way your face fell, but he did. He saw the way your chin jutted up, the way your eyes went round and wide, mouth parting gently. 

God how badly he wanted to be the one holding you. 

He would have edged a finger beneath your jaw, kissed you so softly he could surely feel the stutter of your breath against his mouth. 

He would have pressed a kiss to your chin and down your jaw to your ear. He would have-

You were not his. 

And Marc does not deserve your attention, not that you would ever give it. 

“Marc I don’t need you to tell me when to kiss her,” Steven says, flopping back onto the bed in the mirror that Marc can just see from the corner of his eye. “I knew she wanted me to and you distracted me. You always are, recently. If you want to kiss her so badly-,” 

“I don’t want to kiss her,” Marc snaps. “You-,” 

“Give it a rest, Marc. Maybe you can fool yourself but you can’t fool me,” Steven says acidly. “You should kiss her! If you didn’t push her away, you probably already would have.”

Marc stares at the coffee pot, angling himself so that no reflection stares back at him.

God, did he want to. 

He wishes he would have the night you were hurt, the night he failed you by not being there when you left the theater. 

But he hadn’t, because he really did not deserve you, not after failing you, not after letting you believe he hated you. 

“She’s yours, not mine.” 

“Yes,” Steven agrees, “But as I’ve been saying for months she could be ours. She cares about you Marc, and I remember that night, I remember the way she looked at you, the way you looked at her.” 

Marc stares at the coffee percolating into the pot. “And you’d really be okay with that? Sharing?” It's like poison on his tongue, reducing the feelings shared to something so base. “Doesn’t matter now anyways.”

“Why don’t you let her make her own decisions, yeah? She’s got a brilliant head on her shoulders.” Steven goes quiet for a moment and then says, “Marc, you can let people care about you. She already does. But she thinks you hate her.”

Marc grits his teeth, sloshing the coffee into a cup, tired of having the same conversation day in and day out. “I told her that I don’t.” 

“Actions speak louder than words. How do you think she feels knowing that you still don’t want to see her? Bloody awful. Doesn’t matter that you had a nice night together because you’re ignoring her again.”

“My actions do speak - I do everything I can to protect her. That should be enough. I almost failed that night. It would have been my fault. She got hurt because of me.” 

Steven gives a long sigh. “She doesn’t want to be protected, Marc. And she doesn’t blame you for that night. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. And she wants you to spend time with her! She’d never demand it because she’s afraid she’d be forcing something but it’s what she wants. To know you. She doesn’t want you stalk after her from atop buildings, she wants you to meet her at the door and walk her home.”

Marc collapses in a chair, cup of coffee in hand, and sighs. Before he can respond, Steven continues, “And don’t tell me this is to protect the system. We’re happier with her. You’re happier with her.”

~

You balance along the edge of the pavement, your voice drifting up to him. 

Marc walks just as slowly as you do along the rooftops above you, keeping pace with you as you make your slow way home from the theater. 

You’d exchanged your ruined duffle bag for a backpack, which Marc both likes more and less. The duffle bag was easier to clothesline you with, but the backpack made for something easier to grip toward the back of your neck.

But it doesn’t matter, because he won’t ever let you walk home unaccompanied again. He would never let something like that night ever happen to you again. 

He thinks about that night every time he makes this trek with you, how he was almost too late, the fierce way you’d clawed and kicked, completely untrained but somewhat effective nonetheless. 

But he doesn’t like to think about what would have happened had he arrived a few minutes later, how it would have broken Steven into nothing, how it would have left Marc vulnerable and raw, how you might have been taken from them, from the world, way before your time. 

And how it would have been all his fault. 

Everything that night was his fault, no matter what you and Steven said. 

That knife had been so close to your skin, had left a little divot of scar near the top of your cheek. 

It was one thing to deal with a broken heart because the relationship didn’t work out, and another thing entirely to have everything ripped forcibly away from them, from him and Steven. 

He doesn’t like to think about Khonshu in your ear whispering advice that may have gotten you killed. Khonshu had his own whims and you’d have had no way of knowing his true intentions when he gave you advice. 

It worries him constantly that you had listened to that fucking pigeon. 

Any sane person wouldn’t have.

But you did. 

Below on the street, you’ve gone strangely silent, feet tracing the path back to your flat, heels dragging just a bit. You always slowed to an aching crawl near the end of the walk. 

It makes his nerves light up pleasantly, like maybe you don’t want to leave him, just as he doesn’t want to leave you. 

And Marc dreads leaving you behind each night, the short walk was never long enough to satisfy his craving for time with you. 

You reach the front steps of your apartment building and hesitate, one foot on the bottom step. You stand there staring at the steps for so long, Marc begins to worry there’s something there he can’t see from the roof’s angle, some lurking danger that he’s missing. 

But then you suddenly sit down, slumping down onto the steps like you can’t find the energy to make the small climb, like you can’t find the energy to even keep standing. You shrug your backpack off and shove it away from you. 

Marc frowns, watching you brace your elbows against your knees, fingers fidgeting with your key ring in one hand, while your other goes up to cover your eyes. 

Your keychain is shaped like a crescent moon. 

Steven had given it to you on your second date. 

Marc remembers the way you’d smiled and immediately dug out your keys to hook it on. 

He remembers the way you hadn’t been able to stop laughing when Steven said, “It’s really more from Gus, as a thank you for the Spinx to spruce up the old tank.”

The memory abruptly dissipates when he hears you sniffle. You hang your head between your knees and cover your mouth, shaky breaths inhaled through your nose in a way that lets him know you’re desperately trying not to cry. 

Marc hesitates there on the roof, watching your shoulders shake before you get a handle on your emotions and take a shuddering breath. 

“Do you want me to take the body?” Steven suddenly asks, his voice concerned and gentle. “One of us needs to go to her, Marc.”

Marc watches you a moment longer, the tremble in your hands, the crescent moon quivering in your grasp and knows that Steven is right. 

And Marc decides that it should be him that goes to you. 

This was his domain, these nights with you were his. 

And if someone had hurt you without his realizing it, he would need to know, after all. It was his job to protect you, and he wouldn’t make the mistake of letting those who hurt you live again. 

He steps to the lip of the building and drops to the ground, stalking over to your place on the steps as he lets the gauze of the mask slip back from his face. 

Your head jerks up with a gasp, before you recognize him and settle. 

“Oh, Marc,” you whisper, swiping your fingers beneath your eyes. “I thought you would already be gone.” 

Marc carefully sits next to you on the steps, fluttering the cape out to wrap around your shoulders. “You didn’t go inside,” he says simply. “You aren’t home yet.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric, tugging it close. “I’m perfectly safe.” 

“But something’s wrong.” 

Your bottom lip trembles, and you eye him for a moment before scooting closer, leaning your head against his shoulder. 

Marc tries not to stiffen, tries to keep himself loose and soft so that you don’t pull away. Steven is curiously silent, watching closely from one of the ever present London puddles. Marc knows he’s simultaneously bursting with happiness that Marc has approached you himself and worried over whatever had made you cry. 

“So, you only approach me when I’m in acute distress I see,” you joke, tugging the cape closer around your shoulders. “Maybe I’ll start crying on my front steps more often.” 

Marc swallows down the shame that bubbles up, that you thought you needed to cry to get his attention. “I would rather you not do that.” 

For a moment, you just sit in silence, your nose turned into his bicep as you take long breaths. Marc silently holds out a hand, which you take, the keychain you still hold pressing into his hand. 

“You should sell these to hospitals as shock blankets,” you say, tugging at the cape. “It’s very comforting. How is it always so warm? And dry? That’s quite the feat for London.” 

Marc is sure Khonshu would absolutely love the suggestion that the ancient ceremonial armor be used as a blanket. But he looks over at you, and you look back with wide, wet eyes and he agrees, he should sell them, he should do everything you say. He wants to hand the fucking thing over to you right then. 

He swallows, forcing himself to look away from your eyes, and at your twinned fingers instead, gently sliding his thumb along the back of your hand. “What happened?” He asks again.

You look away and shrug. “Nothing in particular. I…I just don’t think I’m good enough to stay at that dance company. The last few weeks have been really hard. It’s just been one mistake after another recently in rehearsals. And I’m tired of being tired.” You pause and swallow, letting go of his hand to trace the crescent moon keychain with a finger. “After the upcoming performances, I may quit the dance company. And - and maybe move home again.” 

“Oh, love,” Steven murmurs. “Why didn’t you say anything? Marc, tell her she’s a bloody brilliant dancer. She’s so wildly talented.” 

Marc ignores Steven for the moment, wondering if maybe he should give the body to his alter. Steven would be better equipped to comfort you, but he thinks leaving in that moment would change something between you, and that you would never trust him again. He takes a breath to respond when you continue, “I just know I’m not good enough, for anything. It was a mistake to come here. It was a mistake to think I could do this.” 

Maybe he should tell you that you were good enough for that company, that he’s seen you dance so many times and you were beyond talented, but that’s not what he says. Instead Marc says, “So quit. You don’t have to leave London.”

You snort, “If only it were that easy. I need a job and money. I don’t have any skills -,” 

“So stay with Steven,” Marc says, “With us.” 

You turn to him, blinking in surprise as your lips part, and Marc hastily adds, “Steven says that you’re a bloody brilliant dancer by the way.” He poorly imitates Steven’s accent which gets a giggle from you. “Maybe you don’t need to quit,” Marc says, the practical side of him kicking in. 

This was a solvable problem, with this he could help you. 

“Maybe you just need a change of pace,” Marc says, holding out a hand to you. You take his hand immediately, which makes a prickle of warmth dart down his spine. He stands and tugs you up from the steps gingerly. “Moving in a different way than you normally do might make whatever you’re struggling with come easier to you.” 

He moves behind you, curls his arms around yours to circle your wrists with his fingers, adjusting your stance with a gentle tap to the inside of your foot with his own. “Loosen up, soften the knees.”  

Marc releases your hands and circles you, knocking your elbow up just a bit, assessing your stance. 

“Did you just make that up, Spector? Moving a different way? And are you just using this as an excuse to teach me to fight?” 

Marc rolls his eyes, of course Steven had told you about his determination that you should know some basics of self-defense.

“I’m teaching you self-defense. Hopefully you’ll never have to fight anyone.” 

“Because you’ll always be there,” you joke. 

Marc swallows and nods, “I’ll always be there.” 

You blink, the seriousness in his voice seeming to surprise you. “Oh.” You watch him, and Marc has to look away, doesn’t want to parse out the way you tilt your head, the tug at the corner of your mouth. “Okay. I don’t see how it can hurt in any case.”

It would distract you from your worries for a bit at the very least.

He clears his throat and lets the ceremonial armor fall away from his skin, “Okay, first thing you need to know is…”

~ 

You have a few basic self defense moves memorized when Marc calls it quits for the night. 

Under the streetlamp his skin glistens with the mist of rain peppering down gently.

You do feel a bit better, like you could face the stage again tomorrow, and try not to stare too intently at Marc who picks up your bag and gestures toward the building’s front door. 

He follows you upstairs and gently deposits your bag by the front door when you twist the lock out of place. “Offer stands by the way,” he says. “I know Steven wouldn’t mind having you at home.” 

You meet Marc’s eyes, the heavy set of his brows intense as he assesses you, careful of you in a way that makes you want to drown in him. “And what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“We - we would have to live together too.” 

Marc reaches up and cups your cheek, and your breath stalls in your lungs. His thumb slides over the arch of your cheek, over the scar that was permanently etched there. “We would,” he murmurs before dropping his hand. 

Your cheek feels cool where his touch disappeared and you can only nod. 

“Okay.” You take a breath, “I’ll think about it.” 

“You’re gonna stick it out aren’t you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s my girl.”

Before his words can sink in, Marc is gone and you’re left alone with a stupid smile on your face. 

~

You don’t know it, but after Marc leaves he goes to the top of your building with Steven chattering excitedly in his ear, and calls out for Khonshu. 

Marc has decided you’re his, after nearly a year of denial and beating back the feelings he felt he should not be privy to. 

But now that he knew, he was all in.

He feels the intensity bubbling inside him, the wild heat that surrounded his bones. The armor is back in place, his lip twitching as he stops before Khonshu when he appears and stares up at him. 

“I need a favor.” 

The god of the night sky looks down his beak at Marc who lifts his chin and stares back. 

“And what do you need, Marc Spector?”

Marc squares his shoulders and asks for a cape for you. It would keep you warm, you could sleep with it, and if it just so happened to be bulletproof that was even better. 

“That little bug is not worthy of -,” Khonshu booms out. 

Marc grits his jaw, Steven cautioning him, “Marc she’s fine without-,”

“Take part of ours then,” Marc says without hesitation. “Give her an extension of ours.” 

Khonshu stares at him, dark cavernous eye sockets assessing him, and Marc knows he’s outing himself, that he’s openly declaring you a vulnerability, a weak spot. 

But he doesn’t care, can only think about the way you buried your nose against the fabric, commented on its continual warmth, like the heat of the desert was stored inside it. 

Marc can see Khonshu calculating all the ways it can be used as a manipulation tactic, and knows that he’ll give it up, that he’ll weave you something. 

“Very well.” Khonshu looks away, fingers tightening on the staff in his hand. “Know that your own will be weakened, worm.” 

And with that, he’s gone, soft while fabric settling in the place he disappeared. 

Marc picks it up, assessing the blanket sized object in his hands. When he shakes it out, it transforms into a jacket. 

“Oh, sometimes that bird is bloody brilliant,” Steven says. “She’s not going to be happy that it weakens our suits.” 

“She doesn’t have to know.” 

Steven actually considers that, chin tilting down in the window he’s reflected in across the street. “That’s a pretty poor way to begin a relationship though, innit?” 

“Relationship?” Marc grumbles, shaking the jacket back into a blanket before he folds it up. 

“Yes, I seem to recall your girl being quite taken with you.” 

Marc can’t quite hide the pride that surges through his veins. 

~

There’s a box with a note at the foot of your bed the next morning. 

The note doesn’t bear a message, but carries signatures from both Marc and Steven. Marc’s name is a quick scrawl, Steven’s a carefully loopy lettering. There’s a little heart next to both names that you know Steven has added without Marc’s permission. 

You smile, wondering at Marc’s name, at the way he’d called you his girl, at the unexpected but soft touch of his hand against your cheek. 

Maybe, finally, he was coming around to the idea of you. 

Maybe he was finally beginning to like you and not just tolerate you for Steven’s benefit. 

You flick open the box and feel your heart shutter to a stop in your chest, fingers curling into the warm fabric sitting innocently inside. 

It’s clearly the same material as the suits Steven and Marc wore, soft and warm, gauzy like Marc’s but somehow smooth like Steven’s. 

You wonder what they must have traded to get Khonshu to give up something like that. 

You shake it out of the box, briefly seeing that it was vaguely blanket shaped before it changed in your hands, becoming what looked to be an oversized trench coat. “Oh, what have the pair of you done?” You murmur, standing to slip the coat on over your shoulders. 

It fits you perfectly, hanging on your frame exactly the way it should as if it had been hand tailored to you. 

When you take it off and shake it again, the blanket returns. 

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, the smile that pulls at your mouth until you can no longer fight it. 

~

“Maybe if we move this stack beside the bed, we’ll have more room near the windows.”

Marc huffs, annoyed, and sits down a stack of books at your elbow. “Maybe if you and Steven weren’t such nerds and hoarders, we wouldn’t have this problem.” 

“Hey! None of this is mine.” 

“You encourage him,” Marc bites out. 

You giggle but Steven says, “Oy, leave her alone! I don’t want her to stop buying me books, mate.” 

Marc rolls his eyes but moves the books where you indicated he should. “What’s Steven saying?” You ask and Marc repeats the message. 

You turn to the mirror and say, “I’ll never stop, don’t worry darling.” 

In the mirror, Steven flushes, eyes rounded with love as he looks at you fondly. 

Marc sometimes thinks you really can see Steven standing in the mirror, the conviction with which you address him surprising in its intensity. 

Steven is dopey eyed, watching you tick your fingers along a stack of books, noting titles. You were attempting some kind of organization of the books, although probably in vain. “Isn’t she amazin’?” Steven asks, hands held gently in front of his chest, eyes following your every movement.

“Something like that,” Marc mutters under his breath, turning to watch you knock a pen against the stack of books. His heart feels too big for his chest when he looks at you these days, like it might burst at the slightest pressure. 

If he thought being around you before was a kind of agony, being around you now that he’s admitted to himself that he wants you, is excruciating. Being around you as himself has taken some adjusting to. 

He has the urge, all the time, to hold your hand, loop an arm around your waist, kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. 

“Go on and ask her, Marc,” Steven says, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt as he looks at you too, skimming through one of the French books Steven had left out for you before Marc fronted that afternoon. “About the performances? You’ve been meaning too for so long now, just go on and do it, yeah?” 

Marc swallows and opens his mouth when you look up at him. “Did you see the note I left you yesterday? I left it with Gus and Friend.” 

He had. 

It’s in his pocket now and will join the collection of all the other notes you’d ever left him. 

The one you left yesterday had said, 

I bought all the ingredients for latkes. Will you help me make them? 

Of course, you signed your name with a little heart. 

And Marc feels stuck, struck stupid by the feelings that chase each other up his throat. 

He wishes he were better at this, better at just telling you exactly what he felt. 

But he’d really never been good at that. He’s never been good at talking about important things. 

“Yeah,” he answers you, “I saw it.” 

Marc transfers another stack of precariously stacked books to the other side of the room, trying to avoid looking directly at you, at the slope of your shoulders, the way your brow is slightly furrowed, your lips twisted down into a pout. 

All he dreams about is kissing the corner of that pout -

“You don’t want to?” You sound dejected, turning in the chair to watch him. 

“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of a conversation, Marc,” Steven reprimands him. 

Marc grits his teeth and you frown, your eyes washing over the clenched curve of his jaw before you turn away to gather up your books. “I think I’ll go now,” you murmur. “Would you let Steven know to call me later?” 

He’s frozen, surrounded by books that aren’t his. Surrounded by feelings he doesn’t know how to articulate.

“Wait,” he says, crossing the room to where you stand by the desk. You glance up at him when he nears, your brows pinched tight, fingers dug into the fabric of the jacket he’d gifted you. The jacket that would hopefully keep you just a bit safer, make you feel a bit warmer. “Yeah, I’ll help you make them.” 

You tilt your head and don’t seem to mind how close he is. “Really?” 

“Sure.” 

Your fingers twist together nervously. “I know they’re holiday food of sorts but I wanted to try them and Steven said you probably wouldn’t mind if I asked -,” You seem to make yourself forcibly stop speaking. “Anyways, sorry-,” 

“Nothing to apologize for. We can do it tonight, if you have time.” 

“Nice one, Marc,” Steven says as you nod and release your anxious fingers from the jacket, your forehead relaxing. “Now ask her about the performances.” 

But Marc doesn’t know how to bring it up as you flip your book open again and point out an interesting passage to him. 

~

You invited Marc and Steven to your last performance, a note stuck to the fishtank for whoever happened to see it first. 

You have no doubt that Steven will come. 

While you’re grateful that Marc has accepted you into his life, accepted you as a part of Steven’s life, you still get the sense that he kept something back from you. You imagine it as a judgment, a flaw that he’d sensed in you and was only waiting for Steven to cotton on to. 

The jacket they’d gifted you only proves it a little bit, that you needed the extra layer of protection, that you were a liability to them in so many ways. 

Marc cooked with you now, watched any movie you thought he should see, let you read to him out loud. He’d quietly adjusted the recipe you had found for latkes to be more like the one he grew up with, continued his determination to teach you self-defense although you were generally abysmal at it. 

But you catch the way he looks at you sometimes, his stare so intense, his brow a low line, never smiling at you - and you can only imagine he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, what exactly Steven saw in you. 

There was no way he would be the one to show. 

You’d decided to stay at the dance company for the time being, though this was the last performance you would be in for a while. 

It meant something to you, that you’d stuck it out and made it through.

You were proud of yourself.  

It meant even more that everything that day went exactly to plan with not a hiccup in sight. It was one of your best performances and you felt elated that Steven had gotten to see it. 

So your heart sinks right through the floor when you finish changing and saying goodbye to your co-workers and friends, when you finish wrapping your sore ankles and packing your bag, that you walk out of the dressing rooms and find no one waiting for you. 

You search. 

You think maybe you just don’t see him at first. 

But no one is there. 

You tuck your beloved trench coat tighter around you, the dry warmth of it comforting you despite yourself. 

The only problem with the coat was that it always smelled like Marc, like lavender and jasmine, smoky incense burned low. You hate to admit that it helps you fall asleep, that you're always curled inside it. 

Your heart clenches, your mouth dry as everyone around you receives hugs and congratulations from friends and family, bouquets of flowers and gifts, and you stand alone. 

Something Moon Knight related must have happened. Though you didn’t expect Marc, Steven wouldn’t have missed something so important to you without a very good reason. 

You check your phone but there are no messages and no missed calls. 

Loneliness threatens to overwhelm you and all you want to do is go home and cry. 

Again. 

It feels like that was all you’ve done since moving to London. 

And so you put on a brave face and take the back exit, slowly descending the stairs that you always take alone. You swipe tears from your eyes, taking a shaking breath that chokes your lungs. 

You look up before crossing the street, glancing back and forth when you see him. 

Steven, smiling at you from across the pavement. 

You know it's Steven standing there, holding a large bunch of flowers, waiting for you, his eyes fastened on you. 

Marc had a way of never looking at you directly, that you learned quickly, was not easy for him to do. He was prickly and guarded where Steven was open and easy to laugh. Marc was serious and hard, always frowning at you. 

It’s how you came to know the immediate difference between the two of them, Steven smiled at you, Marc did not. 

You cross the street, his name on the tip of your tongue when he says, “Hey, baby.”

Your steps falter and stop, the smile on his face blinking away in a second. 

You’re still an arms length away - eyeing each other uncertainly. 

“Marc?” You ask carefully. 

He swallows, you watch the movement of his throat in the glow of the streetlights that are starting to pop on as the sun sets in the distance. It's not raining for once and everything is cast in a melted orange glow. 

“Yeah, sorry. It was crowded in there. Steven’s mad I didn’t text you so you’d know where to find-,” 

“You came? You…I mean you watched?” 

Marc's jaw goes tight, his eyes impossible to read. “I…yeah. You said either of us. You’ve asked me about it-,” 

“I never thought you would come.” 

Marc’s face flickers blank, like you sucker punched him. “Oh,” he says and if you didn’t know better you would think he sounded hurt. 

“I never thought you would come because you seem so…indifferent to me. I know you put up with a lot from me for Steven. I’m just surprised you would come instead of him.” 

Marc stares at you, his eyes wide with a surprise you’ve never seen before. “You think I’m indifferent to you?” 

You wince, not sure you’re ready to hear whatever it is Marc really thinks of you. He lets the bunch of flowers fall point down as he stalks closer to you, curiously gentle fingers circling your wrist as he pushes you against the side of the building. 

Marc is lit by the glow of the sun, eyes lightened into an amber burn, furious in his intensity. 

He drops your wrist to tuck his arm around your waist, his forehead dipping to rest against yours. 

“I am anything but indifferent to you. You, you consume every fucking thought I have. I tried not to be for so long but I’m - I -,” he stops and swallows.

You stare at him, noticing for the first time how long his lashes are, how his eyes are round but his brows are still in that tight line, the circles that perpetually lined his eyes. 

His lips part and his breath ghosts over your lips and you know what he wants to say. 

Steven chattered at you all the time, but Marc didn’t ever speak more than he needed to. 

But you think about the way he had stayed in your apartment for the duration of the night you’d been mugged, massaging the sore muscles in your legs, asking you questions to assess your memory, to make sure that no confusion was setting in, that you weren’t concussed. 

You think about the way it had been obvious after an hour that you were fine, that you were only really bruised at your temple, but without a concussion. And yet Marc had insisted on staying anyway, occasionally making you sit up so he could peer into your eyes, make sure your pupils weren’t dilated or different in size.  

And when you had gently taken his hand away from your face and laced your fingers with his, he had looked startled, glanced at your fingers before meeting your eyes. But your reassurance of, “He really didn’t hit me that hard,” had only made Marc’s jaw clench and his fingers tighten against yours. 

You think of how he’d come to make sure you were alright the night you cried on your front stoop, the way he watched you every single night you had to walk home alone, about the way he’d gotten you a version of the cape because you mentioned how you liked it, how it made you feel safe. And traded gods only knew what with Khonshu for it. 

You think about the quiet way he ate the food you made him even back before the attack, how he kept all the notes you left, how he quietly corrected your stance even when his voice was harsh with reprimand. How he corrected your recipe for latkes so they would turn out better and let you read out loud passages from books that you knew he found infinitely boring. 

Those were not the actions of someone who was indifferent. 

Those were the actions of someone who  - 

“Oh, Marc,” you murmur. 

He swallows and nods, like your words have confirmed something for him, like you're mourning him already, like you were about to tell him a terrible truth. 

And so you panic when he starts to pull away, and instead press your mouth very carefully to his, and feel the shaken inhale against your nose. You reach up and press a hand to the side of his neck, ghosting your fingers along his cheek, feeling the tug of the beginning of stubble on his skin. 

You curl your fingers into his hair and hope like hell you didn’t just ruin everything. 

And then Marc drops the flowers, presses you hard into the wall and kisses you back, his mouth insistent against yours, devouring, so different to the gentle way Steven kissed you. Both his arms circle your waist, fingers digging into your back, into his curve of your spine, curling up to the back of your neck to hold you in place. 

He only pulls away when you start to go dizzy, when the press of him against you, his mouth against yours, is painful. Like he would swallow you, consume you, if he could. 

He bumps his forehead against yours, breath coming in sharp gasps. “I am not indifferent. I’ve been trying to be. With you it's impossible.” 

“How long-,” 

“Always. The whole time. Since Steven saw you standing in the museum that first time. I just…I need us to be okay. It’s what I do. It’s what we do - Steven and I - we protect each other.” 

You nod, Marc’s body so warm against yours, his arms hard and strong beneath your touch, the press of muscle against your fingers. 

A curl of dark hair has fallen in front of eyes like the warmth of suns, like the turn of the earth. You reach up and push it back. “I understand.”

Marc’s head twitches to the side, and you aren’t sure where he can see a reflection but you know he does. “Steven says that you’re good for him.” A second later, Marc bites out, only slightly reluctantly, “For us.” And then quietly, “For me.” 

You stroke his cheek and let him be for a moment, stroking his hair, not looking away from his eyes until he relaxed against you. “You really are a beautiful dancer. The performance was great. We both thought so.” 

“It must be all the self-defense training making me move differently,” you snark. 

Marc’s eyes are soft, his mouth tilted up just enough for you to recognize a smile. 

His head is bent over yours, impossibly close and not close enough. 

He glances down and curses, “Oh, fuck,” he stoops to pick up your bouqet of flowers. “I think I ruined your flowers.” 

You take them back gently, some of the blooms drooping and bent where before they hadn’t been. “They’re beautiful. Who likes perfect flowers anyways?” You shrug. “Boring.” 

Marc’s head tips to the side again, listening to a voice you can’t hear for the moment, “Steven is…very excited.” 

“Has he been telling you to-,”

Marc closes his eyes, jaw twitching at whatever Steven was saying to him. He nods, then looks at you, “Yeah. Since he realized. The day he asked you out at the museum.” 

“You were coaching that day weren’t you?”

“Only a little bit.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing and reach for Marc’s hand, “It was sweet. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” You cradle the flowers in the crook of your arm and Marc takes your backpack before he tugs you close. 

He watches you carefully, eyes flicking over your face, and you’ve never seen him look so loose and open, like nothing was pressing at the back of his mind. “I like you too,” you murmur. “Just for the record.” 

The way Marc looks at you in that moment, you would have thought you’d hung the very moon and stars. 

Part 3 is up now!

mirrors [c!george x reader, hogwarts au]

Aaaand we’re back! I’m glad you liked Interpretations so much I was so happy when I found out you guys liked it so much. I won’t go too much into this fic like the last once except that reader was not mentioned in any of the fics yet and, like always, the other readers from Interpretations and Mercy will be mentioned again with different names.

I noticed a lot of people talking about there not being enough Ravenclaw so I am more than happy to contribute to the stirring pot with this fic. I might make a voting system after this fic since I wanted to finish DreamTeam first.

SIDENOTE: I mention that Reader is taller than George (around 5’10-6’2, giving it some room for my taller audience) so if you are short, I am so sorry. I intentionally made them taller to fit an aspect of the story.

Divider done by @firefly-graphics.

Here’s my masterlist

PAIRING: C!Ravenclaw!George x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

PREMISE: History has a funny way of repeating itself, especially when it comes to the most similar-dissimilar individuals.

WORD COUNT: 10K+

September 7th, 1885

I expect nothing good to come out of this. Why my parents had decided to send me off to this school when I've been homeschooled for the past four years is beyond me.

Everyone already seems afraid of me; all it took was one look at my skin--one of my housemates said I looked too dead to be alive. When I opened my mouth to speak, everyone early jumped back a few feet once they caught sight of my teeth.

Something tells me my time here will be of most trouble.

A nudge to her side brought [Name] back to the present. Her eyes met Eret’s, who nudged their head over to the newly appointed first year coming toward the Ravenclaw table. Cheers and claps welcomed the student in, who looked more than nervous to be making his way to the table.

“Still looking through that old diary?” Eret questioned, peering at the leather bound diary in [Name]’s hands. At her nod, Eret only sighed in response. “You’re going to obsess over that thing until you’re done finishing it, aren’t you?”

“You know me so well.” [Name] hummed happily, smiling shamelessly when the older Ravenclaw only shook their head at the response.

Leaning over, Eret spoke a little louder as the claps from the Hufflepuff table got a little too loud. “I don’t understand how you can even read in a loud place like this. I thought you had overly sensitive hearing.”

Nodding in confirmation, [Name] motioned for the wand under her sleeve. “I cast a quieting spell on myself so the amount of noise is quieter than usual,” she said. They gave another round of applause when a young girl was sorted into Ravenclaw.

For a brief moment, the younger girl’s eyes passed over the blue crowd before meeting [Name]’s cat-like eyes. Faintly, [Name] can hear her squeak in fear as she shuffled herself back into her seat. “Besides I don’t think they’d want me to look at them.”

“I don’t think they want anyone to look at them.” Eret countered, understanding what she was hinting at.

“Besides, I think we have a good counter for you.” Another voice spoke, making both [Name] and Eret to look at Ranboo, who had his eyes trained farther down the table.

George might as well should have had a halo around his head from the amount of natural glow coming off of him. Almost everyone at the table and everyone around him was staring at him (particularly the newcomers), eyes glazed in awe at him chewing on a sausage.

“He’s so pretty.” Ranboo stated, making Eret nod in agreement as they continued to train their eyes on him.

[Name] rolled her eyes, grabbing both her housemates’ chins and turning them to look on the other side. “I hope he is because he’s, y’know, half-veela. It’s kind of in his blood to be attriactive.” She replied as she opened her book again, reading from where she left off. Faintly, she could hear Eret complain under his breath about [Name] being able to resist it due to her heritage.

Trust me, you don’t want this. [Name] thought to herself, wondering how her ancestors were able to deal with the amount of fear that surrounded them. Her eyes glossed back over to George, who seemed to have put up a good front from having to deal with all eyes on him, continuing to shovel food in his mouth and ignoring the celebrations, just like [Name] had.

For a moment, she felt the pull everyone else had, admiring George’s visage before pulling herself away. Of course he still had an effect on her, though like Eret said, [Name] had better resistance compared to the rest of hundreds of humans when it came to George’s veela appeal so it was easy to look away.

Additionally, she understood what it was like to have people you didn’t know whisper about you, even if his rumors were drastically different from her’s. No matter how negative or positive, it was all still suffocating if it was all at once like what he most likely experiences. It was only fair [Name] did her best to treat him as normal as possible whenever they cross paths.

She glanced up one more time, not being able to resist looking up at him again. [Name] nearly jumped out of her seat when her eyes met a set of blue and brown ones. Eyes widening, [Name] did her best to offer him a smile, as if trying to show she was only looking over at him coincidentally total lie, looking back down at her book when she received a nod in response.

[Name] was grateful for once in her life that she was not capable of blushing and that Eret and Niki, who were either looking away or were completely in a different spot from her, were the only ones that knew her eyes turned a deep red when she becomes flustered.

November 26th, 1885

Apparently, it was cold.

I'm saying "apparently" because I don't ever feel cold. It frightened my roommate, Yulia, when I told her even if I wasn't completely a vampire, I still had the same tendencies as them, though by a certain degree: having a low but still significantly warm body temperature, the tall stature, aversian to the daytime, and, like mentioned earlier, not feeling cold.

The only thing that isn't the same between vampires and dhampirs was the need for blood. If anything, I don't even crave for human food that much and the sight of blood frightened me. Still, it didn't seem to calm her nerves when I told her this. She was still afraid of me. Everyone was still afraid of me.

It hurt.

“Oh, I’m so--”

“I-I’m so sorry!” A second year squeaked, running past [Name] before she could apologize for running into them. Sighing, [Name] only walked forward, not wanting to think on it too much. This was a normal occurrence. [Name] was tall, almost towering over a third of the school population, save for maybe Wilbur, who has since finished his time at Hogwarts.

[Name] was also quite a klutz--she couldn’t count how many times she’s tripped over what seemed to be air or completely missed the stairs or a slab that lifted from the ground at the school. As a result of this unsavory characteristic, [Name] ran into people all the time. If Eret or Niki hadn’t been beside her on certain occasions, she was more than sure she would have embarrassed herself already.

Of course, she would still embarrass herself; afterall, apologies required you to put your tail between your legs. It wouldn’t get far, though, since everyone was terrified of her. [Name] could sympathize a little bit as to why they found her scary; her eyes would turn red, making it seem as if she was angry when she ran into them and her having to look down at them must have petrified a few of the students.

Not to mention, someone had spun a ridiculous rumor that they caught her with blood around her mouth during her third year. [Name] was sure it was just the left over jelly from the cherry turnover her mother had her sample during one of her little experiments back home at the bakery.

“It’s been five years since you’ve attended Hogwarts and you still get treated this way.” Niki exclaimed, bringing [Name] back. “I don’t understand how you aren’t frustrated.”

“History isn’t exactly on my side.” [Name] said vaguely, remembering their History of Magic lesson about a certain coven of vampires wreaking havoc on Europe during the Dark Ages.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean you should be used to it. History isn’t going to repeat itself, especially if all you have in common with them is appearance alone.” Niki countered, stopping in front of her when they made it to the separate hallways they had to go through. “You’re probably the bubbliest scary person I’ve met.”

Both girls laughed at the comment. “I know you don’t like showing people how you really feel about this stuff. Talk about it with someone, at least; it doesn’t even have to be me. Just don’t inernalize it so much because you want to show that you’re harmless.” Niki continued, eyes knitted in worry as she spoke earnestly.

[Name] offered her a smile of reassurance to her best friend. Leave it to Niki to see right through her facade. They exchanged a hug before bidding each other goodbye and making their way to their respective houses.

It was less congested today, given it was a school night and everyone was either sleeping or already relaxing around the common room. [Name] took her time to get back to her dorm room as she slowly walked down the nearly empty corridors. She wasn’t sure if it was because in her DNA, but she quite favored nighttime.

[Name] didn’t have to constantly keep her charmed hood over her ears to muffle the overheightened noise around her. She wouldn’t have to smell the god awful BO that came off of the third or fourth years. Most importantly, she didn’t have to always keep a smile on her face. Her cheeks always aching after a long day of keeping her smile up.

Like Niki had said, [Name] was naturally a bubbly person; she didn’t mind striking a conversation with people she had just met since she liked knowing more about people. Afterall, she is a Ravenclaw. Still, bubbly personality or not, there were moments where [Name] just wanted to give her face a break and not smile for the sake of not feeling like smiling.

“I’m s--”

“No, no I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was-- you were--”

[Name] stopped herself as she realized she wasn’t alone now. Not wishing to grab attention, she hid herself in another hallway, peaking once she hid herself well enough. She steeled herself in her spot when she realized it was George and a young Slytherin girl standing in the middle of the hallway. From the books strewn around the both of them, [Name] could only assume someone had ran into another.

George reached down to pick up the Slytherin girl’s textbook, though he was stopped almost immediately when the girl reached down quickly to pick it up yelling, “No, no! I’ve got it; I don’t want you to dirty your hands!”

Faintly, [Name] could hear George let out a breath of amusement at the last statement. [Name] shared it as well, hiding her laugh behind her hands as she hadn’t wanted to expose her position just yet.

“That’s ridiculous. Let me--OW!” George yelled ou when the girl shot her head up at the same time he bent down once more, making their heads collide.

“Oh my-- Are you alright?” The girl asked, nearly histeric. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood coming out his nose. “Did I do that?”

“Clearly.” George said simply as he held his nose. Irritation was held in the word, though the Slytherin girl clearly didn’t see it as she continued to stare with a mix of awe and panic. Sighing, George seemed to have realized nothing was going to happen if he stood there. “I’ll be fine. Just head back to your dorm before curfew. I wouldn’t want to take points from you just because you’re standing here with me.”

Universal sign for Please just leave.

“So much for Saint George.” [Name] muttered under her breath.

The girl nodded, scurrying to the direction [Name] came from, causing her to hide herself quickly as she heard the girl whisper, “He spoke to me!” excitedly.

“I know you’re hiding there.” George suddenly called out after watching the girl disappear, making [Name] stiffen. “You aren’t exactly good at peeking around corners, y’know. Come out already.”

[Name] let out a sigh, walking out of her spot. She moved her arms up in surrender as she made her way towards the older boy. Once she was at a good distance to look at him clearly, [Name] wrinkled her nose as she spotted that the blood still hadn’t stopped flowing out of his nose. “That looks…”

“Tasty?” George offered, glaring at [Name]. Clearly, he wasn’t having a good night.

“I was going to say awful but now I think I’ll just go with disgusting.” [Name] countered, pulling out a handkerchief for him to put over it. “Please hide it before I decide to expel my lunch onto your shoes.”

“Don’t you dare!” George said, taking a step back after taking the white cloth from her hand. [Name] let out a laugh in return, which seemed to have calmed George significantly. “I didn’t really expect you of all people to find blood repulsive.”

“Why? Because I’m part vampire?”

“Well yeah. I read somewhere that people with vampiric family history usually adds a drop of blood to their food or something.”

[Name] responded with a shrug. “That’s more of a personal preference. My family isn’t really a big fan of it. Even dates all the way back to the 1880s. Some great-great aunt of mine, Ingrid, was a dhampir--a half human, half vampire--and had an aversion to blood as well.” [Name] explained, patting the diary in her hands.

George nodded, seeming to be interested in her input. “I guess we always learn new things.” He said, turning to walk, clearly back to their dorms.

“I’d say,” [Name] replied. “That was quite a polite way of saying ‘Just get out of my face’ to that poor girl.”

“She’s the poor girl? I’m the poor one she managed to hit with her head!” George exclaimed. “What did you want me to do? Yell at her?”

“No, but anything besides that display of political politeness would have been less painful to watch.” [Name] responded as they both turned a corner.

“Well, I can’t exactly get them to see me that way.” George muttered under his breath. “Not like you’d understand anyways.”

Once they neared the door to Ravenclaw Tower, [Name] turned to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

George huffed, looking away as he said, “They don’t really see past the veela part of me. All they do is drool and giggle and call me ‘pretty’. But like I said, it’s not like you’d understand.”

[Name] almost laughed at the statement. “Believe me, I know to some degree.”

“Highly doubt it.” George argued.

“I’m considered to be an awful creature by others, but by my own I am glorious. What am I?” The eagle knocker chimed out.

George opened his mouth to say the answer before [Name] said, “I do know. People don't see past the sharp teeth and eyes. I think this is the closest to a normal conversation I've had with someone who isn't my friend for a good while. We’re quite opposite on the spectrum of social standards, but we both mirror the same sympathy when we want people to see us for ourselves. Unlike you, though, I haven’t exactly given up on wanting people to see me for who I am past the vampire part.”

George gaped at her and [Name] stared right back. She hit the nail on the head with him. She rarely ever spoke to George, mainly due to not running in the same circles as him and being a year younger, but she knew the look of defeat when she saw it.

Whatever tension they had broken when the knocker repeated the riddle again. “I’m considered to be an awful creature by others, but by my own I am glorious. What am I?”

“A human.” [Name] answered, the door opening immediately at her correct response. She looked over at George, who was still watching her pensively. For a moment, [Name] wondered if she was too harsh with her words, though it quickly disappeared when she realized George looked less tense at her honesty, as if he wanted someone to say something like that to him for a while.

Instead of apologizing, [Name] gave him a kind smile, hoping it waived any negative emotions they held against one another for the brief minutes they spoke. “Good night, Mr. Prefect.” She called out teasingly, pulling her hood over her ears once the noise in the common room grew too loud for her.

December 20th, 1885

I get to go home. I won't have to hide out anywhere for the next two weeks. I'm so excited.

Ravenclaw tower was abuzz. [Name] wasn't sure who snuck the Firewhiskey in--Punz and possibly Eret, from what [Name] assumed with the amount of whispering they were doing and their eyes flicking toward the table that held the alcoholic drink--but it proved to be a dangerous mix with overhyped teenagers who were ready for winter break.

[Name] wasn't sure what she should be worried for first: Ranboo, who looked like he was ready to cry with the amount of teasing and taunting he was getting from a not-so-sober Dream or Sapnap's girlfriend, who looked just as green as her house colors. Choosing life, [Name] promptly removed herself, finding one of the common room's little libraries empty, sitting on the worn out blue seats as she nursed her cup of Elderflower wine, also snuck in by Punz.

It had been a long standing tradition that before every break; each house rotated to host a party where everyone was invited. Usually Ravenclaw kept things simple and nothing too out of the ordinary. That is, until the new Prefects were appointed last year. George, long standing troublemaker but an overall good student, managed to take the spot for the eagle crested house, meaning him and his friends got away with all sorts of trouble now.

[Name] had no doubt believing he helped sneak the bottles of various alcohol and striking a deal with Hannah, the female Ravenclaw Prefect, for her rounds in exchange of silence for assisting in sneaking illegal items into the school. She was sure a few professors and staff were suspicious, already having dealt with George in the past, but as mentioned before: he was a good student.

Probably outranking most of the seventh years in N.E.W.T. level classes, specifically the ones involving Arithmancy, George was nearly untouchable. His veela appeal only added into it. [Name] felt a sense of jealousy at the way he had an easy advantage to the school’s social standing; everyone wanted to talk to him or, at the very least, just be near him. Though, that was what she thought during her first two years at Hogwarts.

During her third year was when she began to notice just how much her and George were similar when it came to socializing. He had been on the run from his latest schemes, choosing to run through the back of the school, a spot [Name] frequented when she had time between classes. It was also where most of the girls had chosen as well, knowing that was where George and his friends ran across from time to time.

George had split up from his friends after blowing up one of the many crates in Filch’s office and made the mistake of forgetting where his fans were positioned, running straight into the fire. He had halted at his blunder that time, giving the girls enough time to run and surround him, bombarding him with questions, most of them surrounding around when and who was he going to Hogsmede with.

It caused Filch to catch up, grabbing him from the girls and dragging him to the head of Ravenclaw to receive punishment. [Name] had only watched from a distance, not wishing to get involved with the trouble knowing anyone involved was in for detention. It did make her think differently for once that maybe, George was just as unlucky as she had been with the genetic lottery.

“Not the partying type?” A voice chimed in, making [Name] look up to meet Hannah’s.

“More like, not used to this type of partying,” [Name] countered as she moved over to let Hannah sit beside her. “Honestly, I don’t know what kind of deal you struck with the Feral Boys, but I don’t know if it was a bright idea to agree to sneak in this much alcohol; I’m more than sure one of the underclassmen will get their hands on it.”

Hannah responded with a sigh. “I can only pray that Tubbo or Tommy don’t get their grubby hands on it; they’re already trouble sober.”

[Name] laughed at the distaste in Hannah’s voice. “Well I hope George catches him before you do; there’s hell to pay if you’re the one that catches those two.”

“Hey, that was a Muggle reference; you’re getting the hang of those things.” Hannah replied, knocking into her shoulder. “At this point, you’ll blend into the crowd well when you and Niki come visit me.”

[Name] shrugged, though she felt a rush of excitement at the notion of visiting someone who isn’t part of the Wizarding World for once in her life. Hopefully, no one will notice the disguising charms her father was going to cast on her.

"Hannah, I need help. Dream and Sapnap are trying to wrestle Ranboo.” George’s voice broke through from behind the curtain, pulling it back as he spoke. His head was turned, his attention still on Ranboo, who, despite his massive form, was nearly covered by a certain blonde and brunette.

Hannah gave an exasperated sigh, turning to [Name] as if to ask Can you believe I have to deal with this? [Name] could only offer a smile of sympathy in return, biting back a laugh as she spotted Sapnap’s girlfriend grab at the brunette’s clothes weakly, mumbling something that only Sapnap seemed to hear. Sighing, George turned his head, finally meeting her eyes.

Her eyes widened in shock, not being used to someone making eye contact first. Swallowing down the sudden nervousness that seemed to have jumped to her throat, [Name] nodded to George in greeting before nudging Hannah.

“Go ahead. I don’t think you want Wilbur catching this party getting out of hand anyways. We can talk about our trip later.” [Name] reassured.

“You’re the only tolerable one here, [Name].” Hannah complimented, heaving another annoyed sigh as she walked past George. “RANBOO IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE THAT TALL THEN YOU SHOULDN’T NEED MY HELP GETTING THOSE TWO OFF YOU--”

“Annnnd we’re going to shut that curtain now.” [Name] said, grabbing the curtain George was still grasping, shutting them out from the noise (and giving her ears some relief since she hadn’t put her hood on). Faintly, she peeked through them to see Hannah attempting to yank Dream’s towering form away from her classmate.

Behind her, she heard George let out an amused laugh. “Hannah should’ve tried out for Quidditch. Her strength is twice as much as our beaters combined.”

“I’ll make sure to tell Ant and Ponk that. Along with Callahan.” [Name] joked, laughing at the panicked expression that crossed his face when she turned her head to him.

“You wouldn’t dare.” George mused. “Callahan will make me do so many drills if he finds out.”

“Well maybe try not insulting your captain for his choice of beaters.” [Name] countered, snickering.

Her laughing faded, though, upon realization how close he had gotten. From the spot he was watching from she could feel his minty breath hitting her neck. George seemed to have noticed as well, his eyes only trained on [Name]’s, seeming to be laser focused on her.

Uneasiness settled in [Name]’s stomach as he met her eyes first for a second time today. Sure, she’s had people stare at her before; afterall, the fact that she wasn’t entirely human was clear on her face. The way George looked at her made her feel like she needed to get herself in front of the closest mirror and fix her hair or check for any food stuck between her teeth. She’s never doubted herself as much as she did now.

“Hey, have your eyes always been red--”

Letting out an awkward cough, [Name] moved away from George, ducking her tall form away from him so he wouldn’t notice her eyes turning bright red. “Don’t you have to help Hannah or something?”

As if remembering he was basically co-parenting half the school, George jumped, opening the curtain at the perfect time to see Quackity handing a certain blonde Gryffindor something that wasn’t non-alcoholic. “What did I tell you about giving Tommy drinks, Quackity?!”

“He wanted to try!”

“I don’t care; Wilbur will kill me--”

His words mixed in with the rest of the ambience, making [Name] give a sigh of relief before snorting out a laugh as she can faintly hear Tommy’s shrieks of fear, most likely from trying to run away from George. Maybe this pre-winter break party isn’t so bad.

January 10th, 1886

It's been two days since I was back and I've already found myself hiding in the library again. I wasn't alone, though. There was a boy, Enoch, who had settled himself in front of me at the table.

People have noted he was nice, something I wouldn't ever doubt anymore when he, surprisingly, decided to speak to me. We spoke about Quidditch and were quick to realize that we both had a deep love for it.

Not once did he speak about my fangs or likeness to the darker parts of the library.

Potions was the bane of [Name]’s existence. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the library; she just knew it was long enough to leave a large ink stain on her arm as she tried her best to organize she nonsense she gathered up about the difference between wolfs’ teeth and regular dogs’ teeth on her third piece of parchment.

“Stupid Snape and his stupid Potions class.” [Name] muttered under her breath, sighing once more as she realized that, once again, she messed up on her wording. Muttering curses once more, she balled the parchment up after re-reading it, throwing it to the side as she laid her head down on the table, giving up and succumbing to the much needed break she needed.

It had only been two days since everyone returned from break; couldn’t Snape just give them a moment to at least try to get used to being back on a school schedule instead jumping right into the school work? Of course not; he’s Snape. [Name] thought to herself as she sighed into her sleeve, attempting to ignore her frustrations once more.

“Are you going to cry?”

Well shit. Pulling herself up, [Name] ran a hand over her hair as she raised her eyebrows at George. “Do I look like the type to cry over school work?”

“Well if you’re saying it…” George hummed playfully, grinning widely when [Name] rolled her eyes at him, though she was sure it was because he caught the corner of her lips turn up. He motioned at the seat in front of her. “Is this seat taken?”

“Be my guest.” [Name] offered, waving a hand at the seat, making him settle himself in. A brief silence passed over them as they looked at each other for a second. Why does this always happen with him? “Running away from your fangirls?”

“Nope.” George said, making a popping sound with the ‘p’.

“No?” [Name] asked, her eyes looking around them. It was the perfect spot for hiding, which was why [Name] questioned of he was being chased. The area they were in scarcely had any light, making it one of the least favorable places to study in since no one can read in the dark all that well except [Name], whose eyesight was as good as her ears. She favored it more than the brighter side of the library, which caused minor strains if she stared at her paper for too long.

“I saw you crumple up your paper and wanted to check on you.” George said, making [Name] raise an eyebrow at him. Faintly, he tapped his Prefect badge. “Y’know, Prefect things.”

“Prefect things. I totally believe you.” [Name] replied sarcastically. “You can just admit you saw me struggling and wanted to offer help.”

“What makes you say that? What if I just came here to bully you for not being able to write a Potions paper?”

“Then you aren’t fulfilling your Prefect duties and should resign.”

George chuckled. “You got me. I did see you struggling, but don’t count on me to help much with Potions. I don’t think I ever passed a single Potions class since my first year.”

“Then why are you here?” [Name] asked again.

“To talk.” George blurted out, seeming surprised at his own admission. His ears tinged red for a moment, making the corner of [Name]’s lips turn up. Clearing his throat, he spoke again to clarify. “You still try to be friends with everyone even though they’re afraid of you.”

“Uh-huh.” [Name] confirmed, a little confused.

“And it’s been so long but you still try.”

“What’s your point, George?”

Hesitating, George removed himsel from his relaxed position, leaning over as if to analyze [Name] through his goggles. “Why?”

“Why do I try to be friends with everyone even if they find me scary?” [Name] pressed further, prompting George to nod.

He motioned around them. “Besides that light sensitivity issue you have, you’re hiding here not because you want to but because you know people will be frightened of you. Most of them aren’t worth your time--a lot don’t even deserve your time because of how they treat you, yet you still make an effort to be nice to them. Why?”

[Name] smiled. A subtle compliment, though she highly doubted he noticed it to be one with the determined curiosity set on his face. "I had a relative; no one really liked her all that much when she was growing up because she was half vampire. No one spoke to her for the first few months at the school, not even the professors--they were too afraid of her and she came into Hogwarts during her fifth year so no one really knew her. It affected her; made her pessimistic. Even when she was older, she was still a little bit like that. I don’t think she could shake off those few months away.”

Her eyes flicked to George, who seemed to be invested in the story, eyes trained on her the whole time. At her pause, he seemed to have snapped back into reality, leaning back and turning his attention to the books surrounding them. Faintly, [Name] could spot the red creeping up his neck, clearly still flustered from being so caught up in her story.

[Name] was tempted to address it, wanting to see the red go further up his neck, but she knew that was already pushing too much. Instead, she chose to ignore his state of ruffled attitude and continue with the story. “Well, one day this one guy came up to her and started talking to her out of the blue. All my relative did was glare at him because she thought he only came there on a dare.”

“Was that the case?” George asked.

“No.” [Name] responded immediately. “He saw her attend the Quidditch World Cup during the summer and was dying to talk to her ever since he found out she started attending Hogwarts.”

George let out a snort of amusement, making [Name] send a toothy grin in response. “Well, anyways, he was the only kind person to her--not even the ‘I’m so scared of her’ type of kind. The ‘I think I can talk to you about earthworms and still find you interesting’ type of kind. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah it does.” George replied with a nod.

“He basically made school life less of a living hell for her. I’d like to say I try my best to shape my attitude as close to him as possible, even if people don’t deserve it and difficult because of my whole vampiric genetics.” [Name] explained, a somewhat proud smile settled on her face as she connected her gaze with George, who had stayed quiet the whole time.

[Name] expected him to have zoned out from time to time when she told the story. Even Niki, the nicest, most attentive person she’s met, had trouble focusing whenever she went off on tangents the way she just did. [Name] knew her strayaway conversations wouldn’t always be perceived as something to look forward too and understood that, preparing herself to stop talking at any point in time.

For once, she didn’t feel the need to prepare herself. Her ears could pick up the little hums of understanding that emitted from George, indicating for her to continue. His eyes, albeit seemingly edged with exhaustion (no doubt from studying for N.E.W.T.s) were trained only on her and not the bodies that passed by the shelves from a distance as she explained her reasons behind kindness. His little nods urged her to keep talking.

It felt relieving for once in her life to have someone notice her the way George did.

“That’s pretty…” George hummed, trying to find the right word. “Honorable of you to do. He must be happy to hear that about you.”

[Name] responded with a shrug. “Wouldn’t know. He died during the First Wizarding War. My relatives said he would’ve liked me, though.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” George agreed, leaning back in his seat. “Now would it be because of your personality or the fact that you practically live and breath Quidditch.”

[Name] sent a harmless glare. “He wouldn’t just like me because of Quidditch; plus, I do not, in fact, live and breath Quidditch.”

“Oh totally not.” George responded sarcastically. “You totally don’t bribe Callahan to let you sit in on practices and help him with formations sometimes. Or attend all the games and cheer like a madman in the stands. If you didn’t get exhausted by the sunlight easily, I have no doubt that you would’ve been the Keeper instead of me.”

“Hush you.” [Name] said, rolling her eyes, but not denying it; Callahan had asked her (well, wrote to her) if she was up for the Keeper position a few times before George tried out for the team. Every time she always asked him if he was willing to show how good of a Seeker he was by trying to catch her whenever she falls off her broom during practices.

“Your team won a few times because I told Callahan to switch up your places in your plays, I’ll have you know.”

“Thank you for that. That’s like, what, two of the eight times we won this season?” George sassed, squeaking as he attempted to dodge a punch from [Name], but failed due to [Name]’s tall stature being able to reach across the table.

“You’re such a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?” [Name] stated in amusement.

George, rubbing his arm, only responded with, “I have four people to remind me that every day. Now, tell me; do vampires actually transform into bats?”

[Name] raised an eyebrow at the question. For a half-being, George is pretty stupid.

“That’s like me asking you if Veelas are related to Merpeople…”

March 16th, 1886

Enoch has been one of my few confidants. His constant presence has made me like my time at Hogwarts more and more. I think I've stopped counting the days until my next return home because of all the fun we've been having.

People seemed to have noticed that I was harmless as well, given that Enoch never leaves my side anymore between classes and during meals. Yulia seemed more relaxed around me whenever we talk.

I hope Enoch stays by my side until we finish our time at school.

“Is it just me or is everyone… Livlier?” Ranboo asked, his head moving around as he and [Name] manuvered around the hallway.

“What does that even mean?” [Name] asked as she moved behind Ranboo to let a group of disheveled first years run to their next class.

Ranboo looked behind him to stare at [Name] as he explained. “Well for starters, there’s more people around us; usually they steer clear from us because of--”

He halted, biting his lip to keep himself from saying anything offensive. [Name] rolled her eyes. “Because of my appearance?”

“Wouldn’t put it that way, but basically yeah.” He confirmed, nodding. “Also, more people are just smiling in general around us--around you in particular--for some reason. Don’t you find that odd?”

Thinking back, [Name] did notice that more and more people seemed to be less cautious around her, specifically students who weren’t part of their house. A few even greeted her good morning on her way to breakfast. It confused her, but she hadn’t really questioned it because she already had a vague idea of what the answer was to this newfound friendliness around her.

“It’s because of George.” A voice pointed out, making both individuals look down and see a familiar mop of brown hair and yellow cloak. Close behind him was a tall blonde, a scowl settled on his face as he muttered something about detention.

Ranboo knitted his eyebrows as he attempted to connect the dots. “...What?”

“Those two have been hanging around each other; if George isn’t hanging around his friends, he’s with [Name]. Same with [Name] if she isn’t around us or Niki. Everyone’s noticed it. That’s why they’re so nice to you.” Tubbo said, golden eyes peaking underneath his scruffy hair.

[Name] shrugged, ignoring Ranboo’s smirk. “He’s fun to talk to.” [Name] said, averting her gaze to the wall, finding it increasingly more interesting than their conversation.

“I’m sure he is.” Ranboo suggested, nudging her side. [Name] ignored that comment, turning her head to look at Tubbo this time.

“So you mean everyone’s just nice to me because George started talking to me?” Though it wasn’t really mentioned, there was no doubt that was a driving force to the newly found bright attitudes being sent her way. [Name], while appreciating the wave of people, wasn’t exactly happy it was because of that reason.

“Well it was at first…” Tubbo started. “But then people started seeing you’re actually nice. Not to mention…”

“What?” [Name] asked after he had gone silent. He shook his head, as if not wanting to break a vow of silence.

“He gets all gross around you.” Tommy said, finally speaking up. The scowl on his face deepened. “He just stares at you like you’re the one with the veela effect.”

[Name] scoffed. “No he doesn’t.”

“He also gets all smiley and laughs more. Like not the polite one. Like the ‘I want this person to snog me so bad’ type. Everyone likes you because you can get him to act that way. It’s so disgusting, please fix him.” Tommy added, making Tubbo and Ranboo snicker.

“Shut up Tommy! If anything, you’re the one being disgusting!” [Name] countered as she shoved his arm, feeling dizzy at his notion.

“He’s not even lying, though.” Another voice piped up to [Name]’s right, making Ranboo jump a little. [Name] turned to Purpled, who had his eyes focused on the hall ahead of him. “Look.”

He nodded his head toward a group of boys--a familiar group with a familiar brunette. He was standing in a circle between Dream and Karl, who were talking excitedly about something, most likely their next prank. Dream’s arm was around his shoulders as he kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, part of his body leaning back against a pillar behind him. He was facing [Name] and her group of friends as they walked down the hall, having a good view of her.

George’s eyes were already trained on [Name]’s, the smile on his face broadening when they made eye contact. He lifted a hand as a wave of greeting. “[Name], Callahan showed me your revised version of the play. Nice job!”

At the mention of her name, four heads shot up to look at [Name]. She could practically see the gears in everyone’s heads turning as they all shared similar knowing smiles with one another.

“T-Thank you!” [Name] replied as she waved back, nearly wanting to kick herself for stumbling over her words. Faintly, she could hear Tubbo titter as the rest of their friends held back laughter, though they did their best to keep quiet, ignoring the fact [Name] could hear them even with her hood on.

They continued to stay silent until they rounded another corner. “Nice talk. Very articulate.” Purpled mused.

“Shut up.”

“Your eyes are red.” Ranboo commented.

“Thank you for that observation, Captain Obvious.” [Name] said.

Tubbo let out a whistle. “Ooooh. That’s a Muggle phrase. You’re doing really good. You think you’ll teach George some of them after you two sno--”

“I’m leaving. Bye.”

Never once had [Name] expected to be happy with using her super speed (it impaired her vision and made her run into things), but this time she was as she practically found herself on the other side of the school within a matter of minutes, avoiding hearing their howling laughter as she ran off. She looked at her reflection on the puddle below her, particularly her eyes, which was practically glowing bright red at this point.

Boys are so stupid.

May 28th, 1886

I do not have much time, but today has been the greatest day. Enoch had asked me if I was busy for the weekend. Upon saying "No", he was quick to ask me if I was willing to play with him and his friends for a friendly round of Quidditch at the fields.

Of course, I didn't hesitate to comply; I was more than happy to play with him them. I was, however, curious as to why he was so nervous. It was just a game.

"Pre-nervous games." Was all Enoch laughed off.

[Name] was doing her best to ignore them. Hell, she even moved her books up to form a type of wall so she wouldn’t have to look at them. Not like it helped much; she can practically feel them burning holes through her uprooted books and straight at her. What could they possibly want with her? The only connection [Name] had with the rest of the George’s friends was him and him alone.

Never once did she engage in conversation with anyone else. Granted, she did talk to Sapnap’s girlfriend one time when she needed a pain relieving potion during her time of the month. That woman was probably second after Snape when it came to brewing home remedy potions.

The point was, unless it had something to do with George, Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity really didn’t have any good reason to stare at her at an uncomfortable amount of time like the way they’re doing right now.

[Name] sank further into her sink, practically levelling her shoulders to the table and having to write her essay in an uncomfortable position as she noticed Quackity’s beanie poke from the tops of the books. Beside her, she heard Eret snicker.

“Just ask them what they want.” Eret advised, not looking up from their own essay. “You usually don’t have issues with this kind of thing.”

“No I don’t. Mainly because I don’t know what people want whenever I ask them that.”

“And you know what they want?”

“No,” [Name] answered, glaring at Eret’s raised eyebrow. “But I know it’s most likely got something to do with George.”

At the mention of their classmate, Eret let out a smug grin. “Doesn’t it always?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“‘George told me about this’, ‘George is really smart he helped me with Arithmancy’, ‘Did you know George--’ Ahh stop, stop! I’ll shut up!” Eret whisper screamed as [Name] threatened them with her plume. She didn’t relent, however, making sure to dip her pen in her ink pot longer than necessary before holding it over their pristine red robe they tended to wear when they weren’t in their uniforms.

Hurriedly, Eret attempted to protect themself by grabbing the book [Name] used as a barrier to protect the fabric. “Don’t you dare; it took me forever to make this.”

“Oh yeah? Try me

“Hey! Respect the drip, [Surname].” A voice called out lowly.

[Name] and Eret halted their little fight, the plume still in midair as they turned to see the three men she was trying to avoid all day come up to their table. Faintly, she glared at Eret once more since they were the one who took her barrier down, essentially inviting one of the most chaotic students to their table at the library.

“Need something, boys?” [Name] questioned, eyeing Sapnap nervously as he sat down in front of her, resting his chin on his joined hands as he stared at her. [Name] shuffled in her seat uncomfortably. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just… Looking.” Sapnap said, waving a hand dismissively. Clearly, he was thinking about something because he wouldn’t stop squinting at her.

“Dude, chill out you have a girlfriend. It’s bad enough Dream does that to her whenever she passes by us.” Quackity joked, elbowing his housemate. [Name] rolled her eyes, taking note that she’d have to find her way to the Slytherin common room to relay some information to a specific group of sixth year girls.

Sapnap only rolled his eyes, settling his head on his fist as he spoke again. “So, you like Quidditch.”

“How did you know..?”

“George.” Karl answered, smiling weakly.

[Name] kicked Eret as she heard him snicker under his breath, seemingly pleased at the fact his claim was true. “Do you guys need something Quidditch related?”

“Something like that.” Quackity said. “All of us, Punz, and Callahan were gonna play Quidditch with a few friends this weekend. George won’t go because he keeps saying he’s ‘too tired’.”

“Because he is. Hannah is too.” [Name] replied, noting that both Prefects seemed more exhausted these past few weeks since rounds were held back later than usual now ever since Tommy found himself ensuing a prank war Dream. There were too many times where unsuspecting professors and students found themselves to be victim to one of Dream or Tommy’s set ups late at night.

[Name] felt bad for her friends, opting to let them head upstairs straight to their dorms instead of stay up to talk to her like they usually did when they made their rounds these past few nights.

“Right, right. Well, we’re short of a Keeper for our team and we tried everything to convince him to come with us. Even Dream wasn’t able to get him to come this weekend. All he did was pout and use his veela effect on us to make us shut up. Veela effect. On his own friends.” Quackity explained further, looking annoyed at the memory of having to convince a whiny George.

[Name] didn’t need further explanation. “Lemme guess, you want me to convince him because his veela effect doesn’t work on me that much?”All three nodded, making [Name] snort. “Fat chance. Even if I’m not effected by it, how could I convince him in the first place?”

“Well you basically have him wrapped around your finger.” Eret piped up, making the three other men nod in confirmation. They laughed at [Name]’s stunned expression. “The simping is mutual, my friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

[Name] sputterd, “Wha-- I don’t have him wrapped around my finger!”

“Yes you do.” Eret cut in. “He’ll basically say yes to everything you ask him to do. Have you ever seen him get up to do anything else for anyone when they ask him to do something, even if it was small?”

[Name] didn’t deny it; there had been times where George was with her and he had basically gone limp every time someone had a request for him to go do something. Whenever she asked for him to do something, however, it didn’t even take him a second to get up and follow what she from him (albeit they were small things, like asking if she can look at his old notes or asking if he a spare inkpot for her to borrow).

“That’s different.” [Name] countered.

“Not really.” Sapnap said dryly. “Look, just come with us; you don’t even need to play because we know how bad you get being too much under the sun. Tell him you’ll be there and there’s no doubt he’ll come and play our Keeper. It’s a win-win.”

“Yeah! We get George to play with us and you two get to look at each other the whole time.” Karl said, giggling.

[Name] could practically feel her eyes swirling pink. “Fine, fine. I’ll go tell him. Besides I have to head out anyways…”

“Where are you going?” Eret asked, watching [Name] gather her materials back into her bag. She didn’t bother answering until she was done, edging away from the desk as she stared at Sapnap.

“I’m telling Sapnap and Dream’s girlfriends they have staring problems.” At that notion, she turned, practically ramming into a tall bookshelf as she heard Sapnap’s seat scrape against the floor, chasing after her.

After watching Sapnap attempt to run away from his girlfriend (key word: attempt) and watch Dream painfully convince his own to stop giving him the silent treatment, [Name] happily skipped over to her common room, happy she managed to settle the scores with her tormentors even a little bit (surprisingly, their girlfriends already knew they had a staring problem, all of it toward girls George even spent a millisecond of his attention on to try and see if he found any of them interesting).

With a quick answer to the usual door riddle, [Name] stopped for a moment once she entered the common room, raising here eyebrow at the lone person in the room with her. Laying on one of the couches was George, who seemed to collapsed haphazardly on the couch from the way his leg was kicked up against the arm of the couch. No doubt he had been there since classes ended when she spotted his bag not far from him.

Remembering her promise, [Name] settled herself in front of the couch, settling herself in front of the sleeping Ravenclaw to give a proper look at him. Despite being conventionally attractive, George was an ugly sleeper.

His arms were strewn about and angled oddly around his head, almost as if he were guarding the back of it as he laid on his stomach. From the way his legs were positioned, [Name] had no doubt he was going to feel nothing but numbness once George woke up. She smirked when she finally reached his face, where drool was starting to pool from his mouth and onto the couch.

“Not to self: don’t sit on this couch…” [Name] whispered to herself as she etched the image before her onto her head. Without a second, [Name] laid a hand on George’s shoulder, shaking it gently. “George. Wake up.”

“Mmmgrh.” Was her only reply from George before he turned himself away from her.

“George. George.” [Name] urged, shaking him even more. She only received silence, making her sigh in annoyance for a moment before she thought of something. Picking herself up, [Name] pulled herself close enough to him so her lips settled above his ear.

With a quick intake of her breath, she blew air into his ear, making him gasp. [Name] backed up, watching as George shot up and nearly running his shoulder into her nose if she didn’t move fast enough. Her eyes widened as she watched him look around, hand over his ear, before they finally settled on her’s.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked, still shocked. Heat found it’s way onto George’s cheek as he still grasped at his ear. [Name] was half expecting him to start glowing from how much the red seemed to have covered his face.

She didn’t bother addressing it, however, knowing he would’ve walked away if she even mentioned it once. “You’re a heavy sleeper, y’know that?” She mentioned instead, leaning back on her hands as she settled herself on the ground again.

“Well aware of that.” George answered.

“And you look pretty disgusting when you’re dead like that too. Do you know you drool?” George only rolled his eyes, though it didn’t stop him from wiping his mouth and chin when she mentioned it to him. “If I hadn’t woken you up, could you imagine all your little fangirls seeing you like that? All gross and everything. You might be outcasted. Better watch yourself, Gogy.”

At the last notion, George rolled his eyes, the very idea of it all being absurd. “Well, thank you for saving my face.” George said. “What was the real reason you wanted to wake me up, though?”

“To tell you your friends are absolute dolts and they want you to go with them to play Quidditch.” [Name] finally informed, watching George let out an exhausted groan into the throw pillow he was laying on moments ago.

“I told them I didn’t want to go already.”

“That’s what they told me,” [Name] said, getting up and sitting beside him. “So they told me if I go, then there’s no doubt you’ll go.”

George huffed out a laugh. “Did they now?”

“Yes. Absurd thinking they have, right?”

“Right.” George agreed, though [Name] could spot his hesitance from a mile away. She kept quiet for a moment, not really knowing how to proceed with the rest of the conversation. He wasn’t actually thinking of going if she went, was he?

Right?

“So you’re going?” George asked after some time passed, making [Name] nearly break her neck as she whipped her head around him. George was looking at her now, expecting an answer from her. “You’re going?”

You’re kidding me. Hiding her shock, [Name] leaned back on the couch. “Only if you play Keeper and tell your friends to stop staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time.”

Leaning back on the couch as well, George nodded. “Deal.”

May 30th, 1886

Enoch kissed me.

It was after the game. I was on his team, playing against three of his friends, Clyde, Arthur, and Sidney while I was with him and his other friend, Terrance. We won 2-1.

Losers were to buy butterbeer at Honeydukes. In the midst of my cheering did I feel Enoch's hands reach for my face and pull me towards him, slotting his lips against mine in celebration.

I was frozen in shock and still was when Enoch pulled away. If I had skin as normal as a human's, I would've had blood rushing to my face as Enoch murmured "I've wanted to do that for a while" against my cheek.

[Name] let out a groan of sympathy as she watched George take a Bludger to the head after managing to guard the Quaffle from shooting through the hoops behind him. Faintly, she can hear Wilbur’s laughter echo from the other end of their makeshift field.

“Damn, he’s really not doing okay.” Sapnap’s girlfriend said lowly so only [Name] would hear. “Was he sick before you two came here?”

Shaking her head, [Name] only replied with, “No. He was perfectly fine when we left earlier.”

And he had. Hell, [Name] even watched him down two platefuls of breakfast before they took a carriage to Hogsmeade. She swore he could’ve probably ran a few laps and still manage to have enough energy to play three more games. She didn’t understand what made him so lackluster all of a sudden.

Both girls hissed as they watched George delay for a moment when Punz managed to toss a Quaffle into the higher hoop. “Stop throwing the game!” Sapnap yelled, eyes blazing.

From beside him, Callahan smacked his arm to shut him up, but even [Name] can tell he was just as annoyed even with his hood covering up his eyes. Sapnap’s girlfriend passed a hand over her mouth as she made eye contact with Dream, shaking her head at him as if she were communicating something with her housemate.

“Maybe he’s nervous.” Punz’s girlfriend offered, making [Name] scoff.

“Sure. And I can turn into a bat.” [Name] countered, ignoring the look of question Punz’s girlfriend shot her, clearly believing the stigma up until now. “He’s never like that during practices. So he’s definitely not going to be like that during games.”

“You seem to know him pretty well.” Sapnap’s girlfriend observed. “Does he talk about Quidditch with you often.”

“Among other things.” [Name] replied vaguely.

“Really now?” Punz’s girlfriend chimed in, smiling as she watched [Name]’s eyes. “Y’know Punz tells me all he does is talk about you. Doesn’t matter what they mention, you always manage to get into the conversation no matter what.”

[Name] felt like a fish out of water for a moment. Embarrassment flooded through her as she processed the information. Of course, Eret made fun of her for the same thing, though she didn’t really expect George to be doin the same thing. “Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘oh’?” Sapnap’s girlfriend said, a smirk coming onto her lips as she poked [Name]’s arm. “He’s crazy about you. I’ve never seen him smile so much before either. It’s like you’re some miracle worker, [Name].”

“He’s just comfortable around me, I guess.” [Name] responded, not wanting to feed into what they were trying to get her to admit. Of course, she did like George, even from the very start, though it was more of finding him attractive than it was genuinely liking him from that point.

She also knew George liked her back. She just wasn’t sure when the right time to address that moment was, especially with their friendship being so prevalent.

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Punz’s girlfriend said kindly. “George is so reclusive because of how he can’t decipher whose his friends or not. You brought him out of his shell in a matter of months, Apparently Dream and Sapnap took almost a year to convince him they weren’t just friends because of the veela effect.”

How the hell is she dating someone with a mouth like Punz’s?

Still, [Name] let that notion sit with her for a moment, almost not hearing Dream call for a time out. Had it only been months since they began to become friendly with one another? Her wondering question halted when she watched George make his way toward where all three girls were sitting.

“Can I talk to you?” George asked [Name], holding a hand out. [Name] nodded, taking it as he helped her up from the ground. She attempted to pull her hand away, but George seemed to have either ignored it or not noticed because he had turned it so he can keep a good grasp at it as they walked a little ways away from the group gathering around the girls.

Once they were away from any prying ears, [Name] spoke up. “What happened to you? You’re usually good at keeping up with a pace like theirs.”

“I was distracted.” George answered, gloved fingers gripping his broom as he leaned into it.

“With what?” [Name] asked.

“With you.” Instantly, [Name] almost felt her stomach jump at the mention.

She kept silent as she looked at George, mouth slacked open. “I-- Um. Huh?”

George smiled nervously. “Look, I know I haven’t said it, but you’re the only other person who understood me better than, well, myself. I thought I’d given up on trying to be more of myself and then I see you being all nice to people even though they really don’t deserve your undivided attention--”

At that note, [Name] let out a snort.

“--I really thought I could ignore it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and then I see you under the sun, laughing and smiling with Dream and Sapnap’s girlfriends--”

“George--” [Name] tried cutting in.

“--so I’m just trying to tell you that I like you and I want to be your boyfriend and--”

George cut himself off when he felt hands slide into his hair. [Name] didn’t give him a moment to question her actions as she pressed her lips against his. A few seconds later, she felt his hands slip around her waist, pulling her against him before moving down to her hips. A minute passed when [Name] pulled away, lips ghosting against his as she said, “Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes?” George questioned, smiling as he watched [Name] nod. “Good. Now can we do that again?”

[Name] let out a laugh as she nodded again, letting George lead the way this time, cupping her cheek as he pulled her back against his lips. Faintly, she could hear whooping and hollering, George’s friends clearly catching them in the act. She ignored them, more interested in what was happening to her. [Name] only let go when she faintly heard Quackity scream at Sapnap to give him money they betted on.

[Name] only hid her face in George’s neck from embarrassment.

July 3rd, 1887

I didn't expect myself to have so many friends. Especially after how I was treated when I came to Hogwarts in my fifth year. Enoch made it better. Enoch is my saving grace.

He let people know I was still just as human as everyone else and I was in no way willing to hurt anyone. He loved me for who I was and never used it against me.

He asked me to marry him already. Of course I said yes, though hopefully not for a long time. As much as I love Enoch, I'd still want to live our lives together without children for several years.

Though, hopefully when it does come to that point, they along with their children and the children after them will resemble Enoch in likeness.

“Y’know I’m so glad you’re tall.” George said as he handed [Name] flowers. Smiling, she happily took them in her arms, smelling the sweet aroma or roses invading her senses. “It didn’t even take a second to find you.”

“Well, I’m glad my towering presence was useful for you.” [Name] said. “Don’t you have work right now? I thought you said Bad needed you to check your ledgers for the store.”

“He let me have the day off. Skeppy told him you were graduating today.” George informed, graabbing the suitcase from her hand and lacing his fingers through her’s once it was out of their way. “Also I wanted to surprise you.”

“You know I heard you a mile away right? I have hyper hearing.” [Name] reminded as she motioned at her hood, which had been off ever since she stepped into the carriage.

George rolled his eyes. “Yeah I know that. It was worth a try anyways.”

[Name] kissed his cheek. “Thanks for trying anyways.”

“Anything for you.”

My Favourite Girl - Adrian Chase x fem!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: so this was something an anon sent into my inbox and i found it so cute so i had to write it. it's just a lil bit of fun while i get my life sorted out :') my brain is like scrambled rn because i have so many ideas and so many things i wanna write but we move

Summary: Vigilante pays you a visit at work.

Warnings: explicit language

Word count: 2.4k

••••••••••••••

You had seen him already.

Out of the corner of your eye, while you took orders and names from customers, you had seen him creeping around outside. Walking past the small coffee shop, peeking his head around and looking through the window straight at you. The red visor was hard to miss, not to mention the black and blue suit as a whole was... distinctive, to say the least. You paid no mind to him, though. You went about your job as usual.

Five minutes later, when you heard the creak of the door and the small bell above chime out, you knew he had finally bit the bullet. Heads turned, gasps fell from parted lips of customers and staff as they watched the costumed, crime fighting 'hero' they knew only as Vigilante (Adrian, to you) make his way towards you. Still, you paid him no mind, pumping vanilla syrup into a plastic cup while he leaned against the counter, crossing his legs.

"Hey, Vig." You greeted him, casually. You couldn't help but smile to yourself when you heard your coworker whisper 'did she just call him Vig?' from behind you.

"Hey, babe."

That caused an even bigger stir. If the eyes of your customers and coworkers weren't already wide, and their jaws weren't already on the floor, now they were. The whole shop was silent, all ears trained on your conversation with Vigilante.

"I'm surprised to see you here. Y'know, since you haven't text me, or called me, or been home in over three days." You didn't look up enough to meet his eyes (well, visor), but your eyes trailed up his body enough to watch his shoulders sink. It was a good job that he was in his suit, mask covering his face. You wouldn't be able to resist jumping over the counter and throwing yourself into his arms if you could see his doe eyes and boyish smile.

"Yeah, well... I was just passing by-..."

"You walked past six times and spent at least three minutes staring at me through the window." You deadpanned.

He laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck, "Yeah, well, that must have been someone else because it wasn't me. I was just passing by and I thought I'd drop in and see my favourite girl. I didn't have time to change, so..."

You wanted to smile. You wanted to break out into a grin so, so badly. He could be so cute. But he hadn't contacted you in three days, and although you were glad to see him, you were still pretty fucking pissed off about it. "Favourite girl, huh?" You glanced up ay him, eyebrows raised.

Adrian shrugged, "Yeah. My favourite girl." A pause. "N-not that there's any other girls that could be considered my favourite. There's no other girls, actually. Well, I do know other girls but i dont think about them in that way. I only think about you in that way. I don't wanna have sex with them or hold their hands or kiss them the way that I wanna do all of those things with you. So, yeah... Favourite girl." He gave you an awkward thumbs up.

To Adrian, the Vigilante suit was a confidence boost. He was cocky, even a little scary at times, and not afraid to beat someone within an inch of their life for doing anything he deemed to be unacceptable. You had seen it for yourself the night you met, when he beat a guy half to death for following you home. You were scared, but at the same time you couldn't help but find it endearing (and kind of hot) that he did that for you. So naturally, it stroked your ego to know that you could have Adrian in a puddle at your feet, rambling and flustered, both in and out of the suit.

"Well, I don't feel like your favourite girl." You mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, before you turned your back on him and continued making the vanilla latte you had been focused on before he interrupted you, ignoring his whiny voice calling your name.

Soon, you made your way to the collection point at the end of the counter, drink in hand. Adrian followed you, standing right in front of you on the other side and pressing his palms against the counter, leaning towards you. "Vanilla latte for Jenny!" You called, completely blanking Adrian. The woman (who's name you could only assume was Jenny) inched towards you slowly. Adrian didn't move a muscle, so you had to stand on your tip toes and hand her the drink over his shoulder, calling that you were sorry for the inconvenience that was your masked boyfriend.

"So..." He said, finally. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and correct me if I'm wrong... But I'm getting the feeling that you're pissed off at me."

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" You mused sarcastically. "Here's your prize." You flipped him the bird and went about making the next drink. Most people had gone back to quiet conversations, or continued making drinks and taking orders, but some still had their eyes trained on you and Adrian.

"(Y/N)! Come on! What'd I do?"

If it were anyone else, you would have scoffed in disbelief. But this was Adrian, and you knew him well enough to know that he definitely had no idea what he'd done wrong. Still, your words came out harsher than you intended. "I literally told you earlier. You haven't texted me, called me or even been home in three days. Three. Whole. Days. I've heard nothing from you."

He was silent for a few moments, his head tilted to the side. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head, even with the mask covering his face. "....That's what you're angry about?"

"Yes!"

"Fuck, really? I thought you were just explaining why you were so surprised to see me here!" He threw his hands up. "You really need to start being more obvious."

"No, you," You poked his chest from across the counter, "need to start calling or texting when you're gonna be away. And don't even try and tell me that you 'didn't have your phone' or that 'your phone was dead' because I fucking saw you share a 'deez nutz' meme and a Coin Master link to your Facebook page! Who the fuck still plays Coin Master?!" All eyes were on you again, but you didn't care.

"I like the little pets, okay?! If you leave them too long, they get sad!" Adrian paused for a moment, then sighed. "Look, the reason why I couldn't text you or answer any of your calls is because my phone isn't secure. Anyone could have tracked my location if I picked up one of your calls!"

"Facebook tracks your location!"

"....It does?"

"Yes, genius!"

"Oh. Well... My bad. I'm sorry."

You couldn't help but crack a smile. His apology wasn't much, and honestly you still weren't sure that he fully understood why you were angry at him, but it was good enough for the time being. You had missed him, and you didn't want to spend a moment longer angry with him. "You're such a fucking idiot..." You mumbled.

He let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah..."

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Adrian. You were used to the late nights waiting up for him, the not knowing, the wondering whether he was still alive at 4am after receiving no texts from him throughout the night. Being used to it didn't make it any easier, though. From what he had told you about the butterflies (which, admittedly, wasn't much), it sounded like serious shit, and you were more on edge than ever every time he went away.

"I know you've been busy, and I know this butterfly thing is serious. I know that, okay? It would just be nice to go to sleep knowing that you're not dead. Or that you're not losing another pinky toe. Just one text when you're away, that's all I'm asking for." You said in a hushed voice, so only he could hear.

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry." He reached up, caressing your jaw with his gloved hand. "I'll come home to my favourite girl tonight. Promise."

"Good. I've missed you." You smiled at him, then.

"God, I've missed you too. The other day, while we were fighting this huge gorilla, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I got a hard on and-..."

"Okay! Too much information. Save it for later." You heard him mumble 'later' under his breath, and you just rolled your eyes and shook your head, a smile on your lips. You didn't even feel the need to question him about the gorilla. "Look, are you gonna order a drink because you're freaking the customers out and I have a feeling that if you don't leave soon, I'll get fired."

"Don't worry, babe, if your manager fires you, I'll kill him." He said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as if he hadn't just threatened murder out loud, in your workplace. The worst part about it was you knew he was being serious, and that just a few choice words from you would result in a dead manager.

Heads of customers and your coworkers turned towards you, so you forced a laugh, "Ha! He's just kidding around! He's just... He's a kidder! He loves to joke!" You announced to the room. Adrian just tilted his head in confusion. He definitely wasn't joking, and he knew you knew that. "Dude, I love you, and I'm happy to see you, but please order or leave."

Adrian groaned, "Fine." He spent a whole minute studying the menu. "Could I get an iced caramel macchiato. Triple shot, with a shit ton of vanilla syrup and caramel sauce."

You raised your eyebrows at him, "Triple shot? No way. You'll never sleep."

"That's kind of the point. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours, so..." He shrugged.

You knew Adrian wasn't the best at taking care of himself. You often found yourself reminding him that he needed to relax, that it was okay to take a night off from patrolling the streets as Vigilante to catch up on sleep. But forty-eight hours of no sleep came as a shock to you. You weren't sure how he was still functioning. "Oh my god, A-..." You bit back from calling him by his full name, the way you usually did when you scolded him. "That's really bad."

"I forgot to sleep."

That was probably the truth, too. He had been waiting a long time for Peacemaker to get out of prison. You knew just from his smile and how animated he became when he told you all about what they had been up to (even down to the pinky toe incident) that he was having the time of his life.

You sighed, "Double shot. But only to make sure that you can get home without crashing the car."

"For the record, I would never crash the Vigilante-mobile."

You just smiled and rolled your eyes, brewing a double espresso. You grabbed a plastic takeaway cup (large, since he apparently decided that he wanted to have the biggest sugar and caffeine rush in human history) and filled it with ice, making your way over to the syrups. You added one pump of vanilla, then another one when he mumbled 'go on'.

"Can I get another?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

You paused, your hand still on top of the pump, "Dude, you don't need three pumps of vanilla syrup in your drink."

Too late. In the time you spent telling him that he didn't need three pumps, he had already reached over the counter and pressed your hand down on the pump two, three, four, five times

You looked up at him, shoving your tongue in your cheek to suppress a smile (it was crazy how often you found yourself doing that). "You're gross, and I hope your drink sucks."

He laughed quietly before reaching over and grabbing your face, smushing your cheeks, "It won't suck, because my favourite girl made it for me."

You finished making his drink as you listened to him tell you about a PowerPoint some guy called 'Economos' had made, and how he thought it was sweet that he wanted a monkey and a man to be friends, 'kind of like Curious George'. When you picked up the bottle of caramel sauce, he put his hand on yours, squeezing the bottle and guiding your hand (despite your protests and attempts to pull away) until not one area of the drink wasn't covered in caramel.

"You're gonna have a heart attack." You mumbled, pressing down the lid and handing the drink over to him.

"Worth it." He shrugged. "Hey, do you mind getting this for me? I kinda don't have any money on me..."

"You're telling me you have guns and knives on you right now, but no money?"

Adrian nodded, "Yeah. I only carry what's necessary." He paused. "So...?"

"Fine. I'll buy your stupid fuckin' heart attack drink." You grumbled.

"Thanks, babe. You're the best. I promise I'll make it up to you later, if you know what I mean." You did know what he meant, and you felt your face heat up as you cursed him under your breath, knowing that he'd have that shit-eating grin on his lips under the mask.

"Whatever. Just get out of here. You've already scared away, like, half of the customers." You reached across and shoved his shoulder playfully.

Adrian raised his hands in surrender, almost throwing his drink over his shoulder. "Fine. Fine. I'm going. I'll see you later, okay?" He asked, slowly backing up towards the door.

"I want you home before nine, or I'm going to sleep!" You called out.

"Yeah, yeah! I got it!" He called back, pulling the creaky door open before you could even respond. He knew you were lying, and you knew yourself. He had promised to come home, and you would wait up for him.

You glanced out of the window when you heard knocking on the glass, smiling when you realised that he was blowing kisses at you before heading left. He must have been going the wrong way, because not five seconds later he was walking past the window again, head down, hoping you hadn't seen him.

Fucking idiot.

••••••••••••••••

Vigilante tags

@neptuneswritingwork @vlkyriesgf @juniebugg @bvcksmurdock @cressida-clearwood @withahappyrefrain @all-the-captains @chaseadrian @tinalbion @ladamari68 @flower-slut00 @milfodyssey @madmax2191 @myguiltypleasures21 @andromacher @osnapitzandi @flutterskies @emmachase17 @trash--blog @jlclvsjpm @papitas-con-sal @thedamchii @abbynx @skateb0red @fenderenderender @possessedxparrot @transias @aprilfire18 @the-a-word-2214 @violetrainbow412-blog @partr1dge

Dying For (Adrian Chase/Vigilante x fem!reader)

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.2k 

Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of stalking, Adrian has a praise kink (also a bit of a sub here), mentions of blood/injury, stitches, mentions of violence, vaginal fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, thigh riding, (lmk if I missed anything please!!)

You awake to the sound of shattering glass.  

Fucking great. 

The one time you’re home alone, house sitting for you parents, shit like this happens—

You throw your comforter off in a great flourish and vault from your bed. Goobie, your parent’s old, wrinkly basset hound, one wrong breath away from yeeting off this mortal coil, begins to bay at the foot of your bed. Chilly air caresses your bare thighs, the hardwood floors turning your toes to ice. You grab your brother’s baseball bat that rests besides your dresser as Goobie howls at the door. More glass splinters and cracks, stemming from the living room.    

A life in Evergreen is never overwhelmingly busy—especially without a job. Only thing you frequently find yourself doing nowadays is participating in a long standing rivalry between you, a broom, and and the congregation of overly curious raccoons that have sequestered themselves in your backyard. One night—one fucking night you left out a box of Cheez-Its and now they think it’s easy pickings—  

They’ve grown bold, you think, to physically manifest inside your living room. It’s fine. Totally cool. 

Except—

As you open your door, dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shitty underwear, prepared to beat back the surge of grubby, little thieves, you’re met with—

Well…you’re not really sure what you’re looking at, to be quite frank. 

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