Garreth Weasley X Mc - Tumblr Posts

Everything Has Changed

Word Count: 1.4k

Percival Valley (M!MC) x Garreth Weasley

Summary: The Yule Ball is approaching, and two boys are having very platonic moments in the Room of Requirement as Percival teaches Garreht how to dance.

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"So, Percy," Garreth spoke up casually. Unfortunately, Percival knew that fake tone of voice, and knew that it heralded a question he'd been trying very hard to avoid.

"I'm not going to the Yule Ball with you," Percival replied. Garreth gasped and pressed a hand to his heart.

"Oh my darling, you wound me so," Garreth said and Percival just rolled his eyes. "Come on, please? I don't have anyone to go with. All my other friends have dates."

"Go with Idris," Percival suggested. He paused long enough to find the specific star he was looking for and mark it on his chart. He was regretting letting Garreth join him in the Room of Requirment to study. "They'd be happy to go with you and cause whatever chaos you want."

"Idris is going with Amit," Garreth said. "They asked him earlier on the way to Potions."

"Well then, that's unfortunate for you," Percival said. Garreth huffed and crossed his arms like a pouting child, even kicking his heels lightly on the floor. Percival sighed and begrudgingly put his quill down. "Have you considered that by going alone, anyone else there alone may just ask you to dance?"

"If I could dance, maybe," Garreth grumbled.

"You were begging me to go with you to the Ball and you don't even know how to dance?"

"I assumed you wouldn't know how to dance either, and then I wouldn't have to."

"Merlin's beard," Percival sighed.

He tucked away his Astronomy Chart and stood from his seat. He took off his robe and Garreth just looked at him with wide eyes like he was insane. Percival kicked his chair.

"Stand up," Percival ordered.

After another moment of bewildered staring, Garreth got to his feet. Percival waved his wand and the potions stations, herbology table, and desk in the middle of the floor shot to the walls instead. Then he closed his eyes and focused on the Room around him, specifically what he needed it to be. Sure enough, a soft symphony of piano and violin began playing from somewhere around the ceiling.

"I'm so confused," Garreth said.

"Gryffindors," Percival rolled his eyes and held out his hand. Garreth continued to just stare at it. Percy couldn't imagine why, Garreth had a habit of just snatching his hand whenever he pleased. "I'm teaching you to dance, Weasley. Give me your hand."

Garreth hesitantly took Percival's hand and Percival lifted both of their hands. He stepped closer so only a few inches separated them and placed Garreth's other hand on his waist. Garreth looked like he was about to explode or melt down into the floor as his eyes kept darting down.

"Relax, I'm sure it won't be too embarassing," Percival snickered. "I'll lead to teach you but in these positions you should be the one leading. That's what the hand on my waist is for, so you can guide me."

"Right, yeah, guide you," Garreth nodded. "Because you always listen to me."

"There's a first time for everything," Percival shrugged and put his free hand on Garreth's shoulder. "Just follow me. One foot at a time."

Percy stepped forward with his left foot and waited till Garreth stepped back with the right foot. Then to the left, then back, then to the right.

"Oh its just a box," Garreth nodded to himself. "Then that's not hard."

"You lead then, just mirror what I showed you," Percival said. Garreth nodded again and did his best to repeat what Percival had shown him, but as they tried to go to the side their feet got tangled together. Percival cursed and grabbed onto Garreth's robes as the other boy looped his arm fully around Percival's waist to hold him up.

"Maybe you should show me a few more times," Garreth chuckled sheepishly. Percival laughed and shook his head fondly. He shouldn't be surprised, honestly. He let Garreth pull him back to his feet.

"Even if you're leading you still have to follow your partner," Percival explained. "You have to know what they're doing. In reality you're following each other, rather than one or the other."

Percival lead Garreth through the steps, explaining as he went what each movement meant, where to start, and where to end. Garreth for once didn't speak, just listened with rapt attention.

"Okay, I've got it this time," Garreth decided. "My turn."

Garreth stared down at their feet as he slowly lead Percival through the steps. It was a bit awkward and janky but they had yet to trip over each other and Percival couldn't help a small proud smile as he watched Garreth carefully take each step. Garreth glanced up at him and caught the smile before Percival could fight it off and immediately a grin bloomed across his lips.

Garreth pulled Percival in closer by his waist, so close their chests would be pressed together if Percival breathed too deeply. Percival just rolled his eyes and adjusted his position so his arm was around Garreth's shoulders. The actual box step had been completely forgotten but with how Garreth was holding him Percival found he didn't care. He was perfectly happy to just let Garreth lead him wherever they danced, easily following the slightest nudges against his waist or tugs of his hand.

"This isn't proper form at all," Percival informed him.

"Yeah but this is more fun," Garreth replied. How could one person's smile be so bright? "See?"

Garreth stepped back just far enough he could lift their hands and twirl Percival around. Percival was laughing before he even realized what was happening and was still giggling when Garreth caught him and put his hand on Percy's waist again.

"Percival Valley actually having fun?" Garreth teased. "I feel like I just saw a baby unicorn."

"Who said anything about having fun?" Percival replied. "I was just caught off guard. Don't get too full yourself."

"Uh huh, definitely," Garreth smirked.

Before Percival could brace himself for whatever was going to follow that smirk, Garreth stepped one way and threw Percival the other. Garreth used their still joined hands to twirl Percival back to him, so Garreth was stood against his back with both arms around Percival's waist.

"Okay, that was smooth," Percival admitted.

"I've seen people dance before," Garreth said. He hooked his chin over Percy's shoulder to flash that grin at him again. "Just didn't know how. But I got plenty of ideas."

Him being so close made Percival's neck warm which also made his heart race. How did one person have such high body heat? Shivers traced his spine and Percival tried to push aside the feeling to focus on Garreth's words. Once he did he groaned.

"Garreth Weasley do not dip me."

"I'm gonna dip you."

Garreth spun Percival back around and dipped him, one hand holding his and the other arm securely around his waist. Percival knew he should probably be nervous but he just gave Garreth an unimpressed look.

"I'm not pulling you up until you admit you're having fun," Garreth decided.

"So it's my stubbornness versus your strength?" Percival snickered. "I know which I'd place my bets on."

Garreth groaned in such an exaggerated way it could only be described as theatrical. But he obliged and pulled Percival back up to his feet. Once he regained his balance he tried to tell himself to step back but his feet didn't move. Instead all he could think about was how Garreth had pulled him so close their noses nearly brushed. It occurred to him that the slightest tilt of his head would bring their lips together and for the slightest moment that thought played out in his head. Neither of them moved and neither of them met each other's eyes.

Then Percival remembered himself and he stepped back, busying himself with putting all the furniture pushed aside back into its proper place. Idris had put way too much care into decorating the Room for Percival to just leave things laying around willy nilly.

"Well at least you pick things up fast," Percival managed. "You're not a horrible dancer, Weasley."

"And you're not a horrible teacher," Garreth replied. "I uh, I guess I should get back to my common room. It's getting late and...stuff. I'll see you in Magic Theory in the morning?"

"Yeah," Percival nodded, still determinedly avoiding Garreth's gaze so the Gryffindor wouldn't see that Percival's face was the color of his tie. "Tell Idris I said hi."

Garreth left and Percival had to resist the urge to slam his head into a nearby wall. What the hell was that? Garreth was touchy, Percival should be used to this. It was just the dancing. It reminded him of his sister. Nostalgia. That's what it was.

But why did he feel so cold now?

My Ships As Taylor Swift Albums

Percival Valley x Garreth Weasley - Speak Now

A Mourning Warning - The Valley Twins

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYONE IN BETWEEN AND OUTSIDE, IT HAS BEGUN

I have finally started posting a multi-chapter long fic of Percival and Idris and their story. I am so goddamn excited y'all.

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crashes through your walls

percival and garreth. spill all the tea i’m love them!!

AHHHHHH PERCETH TIME

Okay so, Perceth and Idrit actually meet the same way, in class with one twin introducing the other to their roommate. Except while Idrit is like love at first sight, Perceth is more like annoyance at first sight. Garreth does his thing where he blows up his potion, makes a joke, and Percival looks this man in the eyes and goes "You're not as funny as you think you are."

Garreth is SO offended and makes a bet with Percival to make him laugh by the end of the year and Percival tells him to try his best. There isn't a prize or consequence or anything except their pride lmao

So because of this Garreth ends up attached to Percival's hip and while spending all this time together Percival discovers Garreth isn't actually just a goofball and is really smart, Garreth discovers Percival is "grumpy" because he's focused on taking care of everyone around him, and over time they fall in love

Percival actually realizes his love first, Garreth after. And let me tell you there is some ANGST for them down the line. They don't actually get together (I say actually because they're basically dating for most of that time and just in denial about it) until the end of book 2

A Mourning Warning Masterlist

A Mourning Warning Tag Behind The Scenes Tag

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Percival and Idris Valley have already lost more than they can even fathom. When they find out their father was a wizard and they've been invited to attend Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they figure they have nothing else to lose. But they soon discover their father was hiding more secrets than magic and their journey through the Keeper Trials leads to a curse that could doom them both. The twins end up dragged into a world they don't yet understand as they fall in love, discover the truth of who they are, and hope to survive.

Prologue | Percival

Chapter 1 - Road to Hogwarts | Percival

Chapter 2 - A Proper Hogwarts Welcome - Percival

Chapter 3 - A First-Rate Hogsmeade Experience | Percival

Prologue | Percival

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"Percival wait!" Idris cried. Percival sighed and begrudgingly stopped walking a few blocks from Rosewood Orphanage, allowing his twin to catch up with him. "Why would you storm off like that? That Professor guy-"

"Right, yes, the wizard professor," Percival said. "From the wizard school. Who told us we're wizards. And that Dad was a wizard. Why would I possibly run away?"

"I mean…are you really surprised?" Idris asked. Percival really wanted to say 'yes' because this was a completely insane notion to wrap his head around. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't, and he knew Idris knew it too.

"No," Percival muttered. He sat down on the curb and Idris sat down next to him immediately. He ran a hand through his bright purple hair, the main reason he couldn't claim they weren't wizards. One fight when they were 6 where Idris pulled his hair and he'd had purple hair since. He didn't mind it but that wasn't the kind of thing that just happened. And there was what Dad did. "It's just…a lot."

"Are you also wondering why Dad didn't tell us?" Idris said. Percival nodded. Of course he was. It was all he could think about. "Do you think Mom knew?"

"I don't know," Percival replied. "We didn't know, not until he made that, that…"

"The glowing dolphin?" Idris snickered. "Everything else sucked but you have to admit it's kind of funny. Dad hid he was a wizard our whole lives and we found out because he made a glowing dolphin."

"Yeah yeah," Percival rolled his eyes. "But what if those things, whatever they were, are the reason Dad didn't tell us? What if he was trying to keep us safe?"

"Surely entire families being attacked by shadow monsters in black cloaks isn't common," Idris reasoned.

"It still happened."

"I know," Idris muttered. They leaned over and rested their head on Percival's shoulder and Percival wrapped his arm around them without a thought. "But I don't think Mom and Dad would want us to spend the rest of our childhood alone in an orphanage. And you know Annabelle would've leapt at this."

"I don't think they'd want us dead either," Percival replied. "Dad didn't tell us to 'go explore' or 'look for magic' he said…"

"Protect each other!" Dad yelled, shoving five year olf Annabelle into Percival's arms. "Go for the road, and stay out of the shadows! Keep each other safe!"

"Dad!" Idris sobbed.

The claw marks on their face were bleeding, covering their chin and neck in blood. It was all Percival could do not to stare at it. Annabelle was screaming and crying in Percival's arms and his own tears were falling onto his bloody sweater. Blood covered one of his eyes from the wound on his forehead but with the way Dad was looking at him he didn't hesitate any more. Percival shifted Annabelle to one arm and grabbed Idris with the other. He took off in the direction of the road and Idris pleaded that they had to go back and help dad and find mom but at least they were running.

The siblings had to leap over and weave around the bodies of everyone they'd ever loved; Uncle Simon, their little cousin Msizi, Idris tripped over their ugogo's leg and Percival had to haul them up before they puked.

They dodged the shadows as best they could but the remaining path to the sunny road was covered in trees. Not a single shaft of light broke through the trees but they had no other choice. The ran through but before they could make it the shadows moved and one of those things appeared in front of them.

It was like a shadow was wearing a cloak. It was made of swirling black vapor that shaped itself into horrible claws wearing bracelets made of glowing red metal. Under its "hood" there was no face. Or at least, no eyes or nose. It had a mouth. It was too wide, too filled with teeth the color of obsidian.

Annabelle screamed and Percival tried to shield her as Idris leaped between them and the monster. It raised its clawed hand, ready to strike but before it could they all heard the last words they ever expected.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

As dad yelled the strange words a silvery dolphin swam through the air right at the monster. The monster shrieked and sank back into the darkness. Dad appeared next to them and the glowing dolphin continued to dance around them.

"What the hell…?" Percival breathed. Dad ran off again, back towards the screaming of their family in the distance. One of them sounded like Mom.

Please don't be Mom.

This time Idris was the one to grab Percival, dragging him forward again until his feet caught up to his brain. They made it to the gravel road, the sun shining down on their faces feeling crueler than it ever had. Both twins' were panting as Annabelle just cried and cried in Percival's arms.

"It's okay Annie, it's okay," Percival tried to reassure her. "It's gonne be okay, I've got you. We're gonna protect you, just like dad said, okay?"

"Okay," Annabelle sniffled.

She hid her face against Percival's shoulder just in time for Percival to see movement out of the corner of his eye. He followed it and saw Dad and Mom, bloody and bruised but alive. They were still in the shadows but they were running towards them and Percival laughed in relief.

"Come on, hurry!" Idris yelled.

Then Percival blinked and blood flooded the grass. Idris screamed, an absolutely gut wrenching sound as they watched the creatures descend on the bodies of their parents, already torn apart and soaked in their own blood. Percival couldn't make a sound, all he could do was stumble backwards clutch Annabelle against him so she couldn't see what had happened.

Maybe he would've seen it if he hadn't been dazed from the horrifice scene before him. Maybe if it hadn't been the side where blood forced his eye shut. Maybe if he noticed how far he'd stumbled. But before he realized any of this, claws lashed out from the darkness next to him. Percival only knew because he saw them emerge from Annabelle's chest.

Before he could even scream, the world became awash in a blinding white light and when faded, Percival and Idris were on the ground, their skin stained with the blood of their family and their little sister's corpse in Percival's arms.

"I know what Dad said," Idris replied. "But what happens if those things find us again? The only thing that even scared them was that thing Dad made. We can't do that! If they find us again we're dead."

"They won't be coming after us," Percival argued. "It was a random attack, I'm sure of it. Besides the attack was back at mom's home, on a different continent. I'm sure we're fine."

"Maybe you are," Idris scoffed and sat up. "But I'm not sitting around here. Believe in magic if you want, stay in this orphanage if you want. But I'm going to learn how to protect us, and I'm going to actually be someone instead of being stuck as the kid with no family."

As Idris stormed off, a mirror of Percival himself earlier, Percival bit his lip. All he could think about now was the blood, how heavy and cold Annabelle's body had been when the light faded. He remembered how terrified he'd been seeing Idris on the ground and how relieved he was when Idris woke up. Idris was all he had left. Now they were walking away. They obviously saw an opportunity to escape the god awful hand the two of them had been dealt. How could Percival ask him to give that up? Worse, how could he make Idris do it alone!

"Okay okay!" Percival groaned. He hurried to his feet and followed after Idris. "Let's talk to this 'Professor Fig'. I am curious about Hogwarts."

Chapter 1 - Road to Hogwarts | Percival

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Percival got the last of his trunks outside to wait for Professor Fig who would be arriving by carriage he believed. Why, Percival wasn't sure. A carriage ride all the way to Hogwarts didn't exactly sound fun, but he also understood why Professor Fig didn't want them arriving by the train he told them about.

Percival checked his things then moved to check Idris' only to see they'd already been left on the side of the road without a kid to be seen. He sighed and went back inside Rosewood, bypassing the matron and sure enough finding Idris in front of the mirror futzing with their vest.

It was gorgeous, a rich teal lined with gold and a black bowtie that they'd paired with black pants and tall gray socks. It was just as good as every other thing Idris had made, including the long leather overcoat thrown across their old bed and the outfit Percival himself was wearing (and that Idris had picked out). A purple vest but without the glamour, just paired with a purple tie and a navy blue coat, but Percival was never much for glamour anyway. Yet Idris kept glaring at it in the mirror.

"So were you planning on actually attending Hogwarts or just glaring at your vest the whole term?" Percival teased. Idris huffed and rolled their eyes.

"It's called making a good first impression," Idris said. "We're about to meet hundreds of witches and wizards and whatever I am after only meeting Fig. We're already showing up as Fifth Years, I don't want to look like I don't belong."

Percival's heart clenched in his chest. He grabbed the overcoat off Idris's bed and helped them put it on. He brushed off the coat and put a hand on Idris's shoulder meeting their eyes in the mirror.

"Idris you have adored our little magic lessons with Fig more than I've seen anyone enjoy anything," Percival assured them. "Anyone who says you don't belong at this school is completely blind."

Idris took a deep breath and nodded. They immediately set to fixing Percival's tie which apparently hadn't been straight. Percival didn't say anything else, just let Idris fuss over his outfit for him, including messing with the cuffs of his coat.

"Is the corset working okay?" Idris asked.

"It's a little stiff but I can work with it," Percival shrugged. "And it works, you can barely even tell they're there."

"Just remember-"

"Yeah yeah, don't wear it too long, take breaks, never sleep with it on, I heard you the first ten times, Dris. Now come on, Fig is going to be here soon."

Percival ushered Idris out the door and made them double-check their stuff, even enduring their eye-rolling and grumbling, when they finally heard wheels on the cobblestones.

"Woah," Idris breathed.

'Woah' was accurate. The carriage itself looked like an ordinary carriage as far as Percival could tell. But pulling the carriage were horses blacker than night. He wasn't sure you could even call them horses. They seemed to be nothing but flesh and bone, their skin clinging to their skeletons, including the bat-like wings folded against their sides. But the worst thing by far was how they felt. Even from down the street, Percival could feel something from them. It was how he felt when those claws emerged from Annie’s chest, how it felt when they had to dodge the bodies of their family, how it felt to see their parents ripped to pieces. It felt like the Shadows. Percival felt something grab his hand and startled, head whipping around to see Idris holding his hand and looking at him in concern. He hadn’t even realized how his breath was catching. He forced himself to take a deep breath and squeezed Idris’ hand once before letting go just in time for Professor Fig to emerge from the carriage.

“I hope you’re both excited for the upcoming term,” Professor Fig clapped his hands.

“Thrilled,” Idris grinned. They’d started rocking back and forth from their toes to their heels and Percival chuckled.

“Professor?” Percival asked and Fig hummed in acknowledgment as he examined their trunks. “What are those…horses?”

Fig stood up straight and gave Percival this strange look, like they were a particularly vexing puzzle.

“Can you both see them?” Fig wondered and the twins glanced at each other.

“Of course we can, they’re huge,” Idris answered.

“I see,” Fig sighed. “I was afraid of this. These creatures are called thestrals. They’re invisible to most. You can only see them if you’ve seen death.”

Ah. Well, it answered the question of that dark feeling. It also made Percival want to crawl out of his skin and hide in a hole underground. He noticed Idris tugging at their sleeves out of the corner of his eye.

“You okay?” Percival muttered to Idris. They managed a nod.

“Just have to try not to think about it,” Idris replied

"I'm sorry, I'd been hoping you couldn't see them and we could avoid the matter altogether," Fig apologized.

"It's alright Professor," Percival assured him. "We'll be okay. Should we start loading our things?"

"I can handle that," Fig said.

He pulled out his wand and with a flick of his wrist, their trunks levitated off the pavement and began stacking themselves onto the back of the carriage. With nothing but a couple of flourishes, all of their things were secured and settled.

"It appears we are almost ready to depart," Fig declared. "It's a pity we didn't have a bit more time to spend on spell-casting. I assume you've been practicing the spells we worked on?"

"We have, Professor," Percival confirmed.

"At every opportunity," Idris added. They pulled out the secondhand wand they'd been lent and began twirling it in their fingers. Percival's was safely in the inner pocket of his coat, but twirling the wand had become a habit for Idris pretty much the day they got them. "I almost blinded Madam Taylor with Lumos on accident."

"Really?" Fig raised an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm quite sure I've never seen anyone take so quickly to a second-hand wand. You'll certainly be a force to be reckoned with when you get your own."

"Thanks, Professor," Idris replied with a bright grin.

"We also apreciate you working with us before the term begi-" Percival tried to say only to get interrupted by a whooshing sound a few meters away.

A man Percival had never seen before stood where there had been no one before, glancing around as if he was lost. He turned around and finally spotted the three of them.

"Oh! Eleazar!" The man nodded to himself as he approached them.

"George," Fig shook the man's hand. "Glad my rather cryptic description of our location did not thwart your finding us."

"I've Apparated to more vaguely defined destinations than this," George chuckled. "Though I confess I may have miscalculated slightly on my first try. Gave quite the fright to some theatre-goers in the West End."

Idris started snickering and Percival elbowed them in the side.

"It's been much too long," Fig chuckled. "When I received your owl I must say-"

"Best not speak here, Eleazar, hm?" George cut him off.

Percival glanced at Idris only to see them already looking at him. Not wanting to draw attention to themselves the two had a conversation with their eyes as quickly as they could.

Something is up right? Percival started.

Absolutely, but no clue what.

He seems nervous.

Yeah, I don't like it.

Keep an eye out.

"Of course," Fig agreed, pulling back Idris and Percival's attention. "Why don't we speak en route to Hogwarts? We have a start-of-term feast and a Sorting ceremony to get to."

Idris was immediately distracted by talk of the Sorting Ceremony and Percival resisted the urge to smack them in the back of the head. To be fair, all they'd been talking about for days was what house they'd be in. Their current theory was that Percival would be in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but the theory for their own house varied from day to day.

"Wonderful idea!" George exclaimed. "As long as your young charges here don't mind me tagging along."

“Not at all!” Idris chirped. They even opened the door for everyone. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Fig chuckled.

“It’s been ages since I’ve been to the castle,” George sighed wistfully. “ Would be good to see the old pile of rocks.”

Percival climbed into the carriage, followed by Fig sitting on the seat across from him. George was next and he ended up sitting next to Percival while Idris sat directly across from him. The carriage lurched under them and started rolling. Then it lurched again and Percival’s stomach dropped out from under him. Percival grabbed onto the window of the carriage to steady himself and watched as the world fell away below them and was replaced by a blue sky and clouds close enough to touch. Idris laughed in pure delight and just the sound brought a smile to Percival’s face.

“I’m glad I caught you before you left for Scotland,” George chuckled, thankfully reminding Percival he was supposed to be paying attention.

“Just barely,” Fig teased.

“And who are your traveling companions?” George wondered.

“New students,” Fig answered.

“New?”

“Yes sir,” Percival nodded. “We’re starting school as fifth years because of, uh, some complications.”

“How extraordinary,” George raised his eyebrows.

“It is indeed,” Fig said, “None of the faculty has ever heard of anyone being admitted to Hogwarts so late.”

“Nor have I…” George agreed

Percival shifted a little, glancing sideways at George to gauge his reaction. His conversation with Idris was at the forefront of his mind and he was fully prepared to tear this man apart if he had to.

“Of course,” Fig continued. “As the other fifth years will have been honing their magical skills for four years now, The Headmaster asked if I could get our new student ip to speed a bit before the term begins.”

“Well you couldn’t have asked for a better mentor,” George told the twins. “Professor Fig is not only an exceptional teacher, he is also a remarkably intuited, and gifted, wizard.”

“Mr. Osric is prone to flattery,” Fig stage whispered to Idris next to him, making them laugh again. “I daresay it’s one of the reasons he’s risen so far at the Ministry.”

“Have you seen this?” George almost whispered.

George glanced out the window and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. Percival recognized it, Fig had brought the two of them a couple of issues to read so they could be a little more caught up in Wizarding World affairs. He certainly hadn’t seen this article though. It had a goblin in some sort of armor on the front with the words “Ranrok’s Goblin Rebellion” in large font on the front.

“I have,” Fig sighed. “Opinions differ as to how great a threat Ranrok really is.”

Percival missed whatever George said next because Idris sharply kicked his leg.

“Percy,” Idris whispered. Percival wanted to snap at him because Idris was wearing thick boots that hurt kicking him in the shin, but he could hear the urgency and near panic in Idris’ voice. Idris nodded out their window and when Percival looked out he caught a glimpse of what Idris was so scared of: A giant wing, disappearing into the clouds.“Profess-” Percival started before his ears caught up to his brain and he realized what was being said.

“-your wife, Eleazar, who alerted me to his activities months ago,” George was telling Fig.

“Miriam?” Fig gasped. “How?”

“She wrote to me about Ranrok before she died,” George sighed and Percival inhaled sharply. Fig’s wife was dead? “Wondering what the ministry knew about his activities.”

All these months Fig had spent with them, painstakingly teaching them about Potions and Magic Theory and the Wizarding World in parks and libraries, and his wife had just died? Percival couldn’t help staring at the older man for a minute. He felt like his whole world had been turned upside down.

Idris and Fig had gotten close quickly. The two just seemed to click, as Fig was especially patient and took the time to learn how Idris’ brain worked. It was certainly different from other teachers they’d had in the past. His encouragement was a large part of the reason Idris was smiling and laughing more often. Like they used to. Percival liked Fig and all but just as a teacher rather than a mentor or anything similar. But now, knowing Fig had set aside an insurmountable grief to help two kids that he didn’t even know who were going through the same thing? Those feelings certainly shifted.

This had to be it. Whatever Miriam said or whatever George found must be what had him so spooked and paranoid. He kept glancing out the windows and speaking in a hushed tone as if the clouds were listening.

George paused so he could pull out a strange cylindrical object. It came to a point on each end, a mix of teal and cold metal. It looked like it opened around the flame-like symbol resting in the center. He didn’t know how else to describe the shape. It even glowed like a flame.

“Before I could respond, I received this,” George told Eleazar. “I received this. It was the last thing she sent me, Eleazar. It came via her owl…but with no correspondence. I can only assume-”

“-that she had to get rid of it quickly,” Fig finished. “To keep it safe.”

“Presumably from Ranrok. I cannot open it. Whatever magic protects this is powerful indeed.”

“It seems to be goblin metal,” Fig hummed as he tapped the container and listened to the sound.

Percival tilted his head. Goblin metal? But it was enchanted. “Then why is it glowing?”

Both adults paused to stare at him like he’d grown a second head.

“What?” Percival questioned.

“I don’t see a glow,” Fig explained and Oercival just blinked at him.

“Nor do I,” George said slowly.

“You don’t? Idris spoke up. “It’s the symbol, it’s glowing blue.”

Oh, thank Merlin. At least he wasn’t going completely insane. Fig handed Idris the container and immediately the ends lit up with blue runic symbols. With a shink sound the container popped open as easily as can be. Rested innocently on a bed of cerulean velvet was a key, the head was the same symbol as was on the container.

“Merlin’s Beard!” George exclaimed. “How did you-?”

“I don’t know, I just picked it up,” Idris swore. They went to pick up the key but Fig quickly stopped them.

“Wait!” Fig grabbed the container, making Idris look up quickly. “We don’t know what-”

“PERCY!” Idris screamed and lunged forward to grab Percival by the coat just in time for the seat under him to give way.

He heard a horrible crunching sound and felt a sharp white hot pain in his shoulder that forced him to cry out. He fell but Idris managed to hold onto him with one hand and the carriage with the other. Fig reached down to grab onto Percival too but as it turned out, half the carriage was missing. There was nowhere they could pull him to. Percival looked behind him and if it weren’t for having the wind knocked out of him he may have screamed again. Still holding the back of the carriage in its’ mouth was a dragon, bright red and teeth the size of Percival. If Idris hadn’t yanked him forward, the thing would have swallowed him whole. Even still the dragon's teeth must have nicked his shoulder based on the pain in his shoulder and the blood he could already feel running down his back.

“Hold on!” Fig yelled to be heard over the roaring and wind.

The dragon pivoted in mid-air to keep flying after them, easily able to close the distance in seconds. It opened its mouth again but rather than trying to eat them the inside of its mouth and throat started glowing. Percival had never met a magical creature before, but he’d read plenty of legends.

“IDRIS JUMP!”

“WHAT?!”

“JUST DO IT!”

Idris let go of the carriage, sending both twins catapulting through the sky. Thankfully Fig seemed to have seen the same thing and jumped too. All three of them tumbled through the air, screams ripped from their throats. Percival reached around until he could grab onto Idris's hand. They held onto each other with a death grip. After all this shit they’d been through, no fucking way were they going anywhere without the other, even into death.

“I’M SORRY!” Idris yelled. Percival wasn’t sure if the tears in their eyes were from guilt, fear, or just the wind whipping past them. Either way, he knew exactly what they were apologizing for, blaming themself for getting them into this which was usually Percival’s move. Percival shook his head, not trusting himself to speak but needing Idris to know he didn’t blame them.

“The key!” Fig cried. Percival finally looked away from Idris and immediately was able to spot the glowing key even as it fell. “Grab onto me!”

The twins obeyed without hesitation, grabbing for whatever part of Fig they could reach as they heard the telltale roaring again, getting louder far too quickly.

“Accio!” Fig yelled. The key shot through the sky into Fig’s hand and enveloped them all in a blue glow.

Before anything else, Percival felt his feet hit solid ground and his legs immediately gave out from under him. He instinctively tried to catch himself but forgot about his shoulder. He cried out as his arm buckled under the flash of pain from his back, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"Percival!" Idris exclaimed. They were okay, oh thank anything and everything, they were okay. Idris hurried to his side and helped him sit up.

"It's alright, let me see," Fig rushed to Percival's side. He muttered something under his breath and waved his wand, making Percival's ruined and bloodstained coat disappear and then reappear neatly folded a few feet away. Fig shifted so he could more easily see the wound. "Ah, thankfully it's not too awful. It should be nothing to worry about."

Fig reached into his pocket and pulled out three little glass bottles, each filled with a bright green liquid.

"Take two of these," Fig instructed. He handed Percival two bottles and Idris one. "You take one as well, Idris. It's Wiggenweld Potion. That stuff'll right you in a second."

Idris helped Percival get the first bottle to his lips and let him get the second on his own. Sure enough, within seconds the pain had dulled from white-hot throbbing to a much less debilitating soreness, and from what he could feel it seemed to have scabbed over, meaning it was no longer bleeding. Idris downed theirs too and sighed in relief.

"And you called potions boring," Percival snickered.

"It's so boring but maybe it's kind of worth it," Idris laughed. They grabbed Percival's coat and held it up, immediately wincing at the damage.

"Damn it, you just made that," Percival sighed. "Can you fix it?"

"I mean, technically," Idris shrugged. "I can make it functional, maybe. But it won't be pretty, and there's no way I can get your blood out, which is annoying."

"Oh I'm so sorry, next time I get bit by a dragon and am dangling from a crumbling carriage in midair I'll be sure to get my coat off so I don't bleed on it."

"How considerate of you."

Percival laughed and shook his head. He glanced around to better get his bearings now that he could focus on something other than his pain. They seemed to have appeared in a small cave with a high ceiling and dirt floor. There wasn't much to it other than an opening where sunlight spilled in. Professor Fig was pacing in the center of the cave.

"Poor George, I can't believe it," Fig muttered, mostly to himself but Percival still looked down at the cave floor. "What the hell got into that damned thing? Attacking a carriage mid-air? A typical dragon would never-"

"Professor?" Percival called, getting the man's attention and snapping him out of whatever thought spiral he'd fallen into. "Sir, where are we?"

"I'm not sure," Fig said. "But that key you discovered was clearly a Portkey."

"A Portkey?" Idris said, a small furrow between their eyebrows.

"An item enchanted to bring whoever touches it to a specific place," Fig answered.

"So whoever made it, wanted someone to end up here," Percival realized. "Dris, help me."

Idris helped Percival to his feet and remained by his side while he got his balance. He nodded to himself before speaking to Fig again.

"I'm feeling better sir," Percival told him. "If you'd like to look around a bit. I know I would."

"Agreed," Fig said. "But stay close you two. We've no idea who created this Portkey. Or why."

They exited the cave on each other's heels. Percival had to lift a hand over his eyes as they emerged into the light. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't a seaside cliff face facing a jut of rock containing the ruins of a grand house. Rubble lined a cobblestone path where they stood, so clearly it wasn't an accidental cave or convenient natural path.

"Where are we?" Idris wondered.

"Farther from London than the carriage traveled," Fig answered. "We're somewhere in the Scottish Highlands."

"Sir, the ruins," Percival used his good arm to point. "Do you think-"

"-that's definitely where we're supposed to go," Idris agreed.

"Great minds all think alike," Fig confirmed. "This has not been the day any of us expected. But Miriam sent that Portkey to George for a reason. And I believe that she, and noe George, died in pursuit of whatever it was meant to lead to. If you're sure you're all right, and wouldn't mind indulging me I'd like to have a look around."

Percival took one glance at Idris and knew his twin was going to say yes. Percival was much more hesitant. He was the one that almost ended up dragon food after all. But he had to admit, the curiosity was practically eating him alive.

"We're in," Percival answered and Idris nodded their agreement.

"Good," Fig offered him a small smile. "Now let's see if we can find a path, however faded it might be."

So, rather than getting sorted, finding his dorm, meeting his teachers, meeting his classmates, or unpacking, Percival spent his first day of school hiking through the Scottish Highlands. They managed to find a path okay, but in Percival's opinion, it hardly counted as one. The whole thing was rocky and uneven with dead ends and twisting turns. Not to mention there were multiple points where they had to climb up a small cliff face and Idris had to help Percival do so because he couldn't climb with his injured arm. They had to force their way through a wall of some sort of black crystal that dissolved once shattered. When they finally reached the end Fig had to magically repair the bridge to the ruins.

He couldn't quite make out what the ruins were supposed to be. They towered over the trio but they didn't cover near enough space to be a castle. It had to be a home, maybe a tower even. The stonework was magnificent, what little he could make out. A mural covered the back wall, with rubble stair next to it and a statue to the left on what used to be a balcony. Percival certainly wouldn't mind living somewhere like this some day. The solitude would only be a bonus.

While Idris wandered off towards the statue Percival found himself drawn to the large mural carved into the wall. The mural depicts a wizard with a long beard in a library of some kind. A podium sat across from him decorated in some of the runes Fig had shown Percival weeks ago, and the wizard seemed to be hunched over a crystal ball.

"Why would someone have build this here?" Idris wondered.

"Drama?" Percival suggested with a shrug.

"I suspect they valued their privacy," Fig answered. "But that Portkey led us here for a reason. Let's have a look around for anything that seems out of place."

"Professor, did you see this?" Percival called him over. Fig approached the mural too and studied it for a moment.

"Ah, perhaps our host was a noted Seer," Fig hummed. "Interesting."

"It looks like the same guy as the statue," Idris pointed to the statue they were looking at.

"If they were a Seer it explains how they'd be able to set up such a complicated path," Percival said.

"Hey Perce c'mere!" Idris called over. Percival left Fig by the mural and found Idris past the statue and looking at a path around the back of the house.

"Oh, nice find," Percival nudged them.

"Nah, I just saw it when we were up on the cliff," Idris shrugged and pushed their glasses up their nose. Percival was surprised they could see anything out of them. they were covered in dirt and ash and what may have been a bit of Percival's blood.

"What have I told you about cleaning these," Percival sighed. He took the glasses off Idris' face and used a clean part of his already ruined coat to clean them off. "There, dummy."

"You're worse than Mom," Idris huffed as they slid the glasses back on their face.

"Better?"

".....maybe."

"Whatever, let's go," Percival snickered and lead the way down the path. He half expected the things to crumble at any minute. But at the end was another room, this time more round, as if it used to be a tower. "You can see that right?"

On the wall was that glowing symbol again, this time set into the same black crystal that had blocked the path to the ruins.

"The crystal or the symbol?" Idris asked.

"Okay good, I'm not losing it," Percival sighed.

"Okay good we're not losing it," Idris snickered. "Why do you think Fig and George couldn't see it?"

"That is a great question Idris, let me dive into my years and years of knowledge of magic and the wizarding world to answer it."

"You're a prick, you know that?"

"Obviously. Hey professor! We found something!"

As they got closer the stone seemed to change right before their eyes. Rather than a semi-translucent crystal-like substance, the stone cleared. Instead they were looking through a window. It wasn’t the ocean on the other side, it was an underground room with a vaulted ceiling, high columns, and a marble floor. On the other side of the room was something like a desk or a podium with no one sat at it.

“How odd,” Fig murmured as he reached them. “Why would someone have conjured that enchanted stone here?”

“And how is there a room behind it?” Percival wondered.

“What room?” Fig questioned, squinting at the wall like that would make the room appear. Percival was starting to buy more and more into the theory that he and Idris had finally snapped under the weight of all their trauma. “I don’t see anything.”

“That symbol is there again too,” Percival told him and gestured to it. “Glowing just like on the Portkey and Portkey container.”

In gesturing to it Percival accidentally bumped the symbol with his hand. The light pulsed and the crystal became solid brick in front of them. When they all turned around there was the room from behind the crystal. Yeah, they’d officially lost it.

“Okay, what the hell?” Idris blinked at the wall. “Where are we?”

“I don’t believe it,” Fig mumbled instead of answering. Percival felt bad for the professor honestly, this was not at all what he signed up for. Then again, Percival and Idris didn’t sign up for this either and Fig was the adult of the situation.

Idris wandered right up to the podium and peaked over the top of it. “Hello?”

A goblin startled, jumping up and throwing their quill into the air. Percival looked up at the ceiling and side because of course Idris would walk right up to someone sleeping. The goblin looked at the trio with bleary eyes only for said eyes to widen almost comedically.

“It can’t be,” The goblin gasped. “Uh, just a moment!”

The goblin made his way down from the podium and around to speak to them directly.

“Welcome, to Gringotts Wizarding Bank,” The goblin declared and gave a little bow and everything. Percival swore Fig had told them Gringotts was somewhere called Diagon Alley, a wizarding marketplace back in London. They were going to end up in France at this rate. “Vault twelve I presume?”

“Uhm precisely,” Fig nodded while the twins exchanged looks. The goblin just stood there and stared at them like he was waiting for something and eventually held his hand out.

“The key?” The goblin prompted.

“Hm? Fig replied helpfully.

“The Portkey,” Percival suggested and Fig flashed him a grateful look.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Fig pulled the key out of his pocket and handed it to the strangely eager goblin.

"Right this way!" The goblin chirped.

The goblin headed off to the edge of the room where Percival could just make out a tunnel and a cart of some kind. Fig put a hand out to stop the twins before they could follow.

"Stay close," Fig said quietly. It wasn't until they both nodded that they all sat on seats on the outside of the cart.

"Keep your hands in the cart if you don't wish to lose them!" The goblin announced happily.

"I'm sorry wha-" Percival tried to protest but was interrupted by the cart launching forward at a breakneck speed.

Percival and Idris immediately grabbed each other's hands as the cart rocketed straight ahead, the wheels and tracks pivoting around the seating. When they came out of the tunnel they saw a cavern so huge Percival couldn't see the end of it or the bottom, or the top. And yet interspersed along the rocks were something like an endless amount of vaults.

"How many vaults are there?" Percival wondered.

"Hundreds," The goblin answered. "In fact, you'll see quite a few on our way to vault twelve. As we speak, we're just beneath the main lobby. The vaults you see here are the newest."

"Are private entrances to the bank common?" Fig asked.

"They are most uncommon," The goblin said. "Only one with great wealth or power or both could have arranged for such a service." 

They were left with only a few seconds to contemplate the gravity of them going to one of the oldest vaults through a private entrance when the goblin spoke again.

"You may want to take a breath," The goblin chirped.

"A what now?" Percival demanded.

He quickly got his answer as gallons of water crashed down on them from above, leaving all of them soaked to the bone.

"Oh come on," Percival groaned. He despised having to walk around in wet clothes. Something about the way they felt just drove him crazy. It was like his bones could feel it through his skin.

"That waterfall washes away all enchantments," Fig explained. "It's a security measure."

"It's a damn hazard is what it is," Percival grumbled. Poor Idris was left trying to shake and/or squeeze the water droplets from their curls but at least they didn't have a problem with wet clothes.

"Experienced the thief's downfall before, have you?" The goblin said.

"Heard of it," Fig corrected.

"How deep are we going?" Idris asked as more vaults passed them by without any sign of them slowing down or stopping.

"Vault number twelve was commissioned shortly after Gringotts was founded four centuries ago," The goblin answered and Percival nearly choked. What the hell did a four hundred-year-old vault have to do with them?! "It resides in the deepest part of the bank."

"Wait, Idris," Percival pulled their twin so they leaned in. "What if it's Dad's?"

"Do you think?" Idris' eyes widened.

"It would make sense," Percival shrugged. "He took Mom's last name when they got married and he never told us his last name. Who knows who his family is or how old it is? Maybe he came from money or something. Maybe that's why we're the only ones who can see the glow."

"But why would Dad set up the Portkey and weird crystal walls and stuff just to get us to his vault?" Idris pointed out. "He could've just left us the key. And why would the dragon attack us."

"I have no clue," Percival admitted as the cart screeched to a halt.

He went to stand, expecting they had arrived, only to see another goblin wearing a security uniform. Percival wasn't always the best at facial expressions that weren't on Idris' face but this guy looked like they'd just insulted his entire family. What drew Percival's eyes though was the band around his arm, a band that was glowing red.

"That same glow was on the dragon's collar," Idris breathed.

"The dragon had a collar?"

"You don't remember?"

"I was dangling from a broken carriage!"

"Okay, fine. Yes, it had a collar, made of the same metal and the same red glow."

"Great."

"Vault number?" The security goblin demanded.

"Vault twelve," The banker goblin replied cheerfully. "Momentous day!"

"On your way," The security goblin grunted. Yeah, he was upset about something. The cart started again and the security goblin left his post for his cart before they were even out of sight.

"Shit," Idris muttered.

"Professor," Percival leaned to the other side where Professor Fig was sitting.

"Hm?"

"The armband that guard was wearing was glowing," Percival told him.

"Like the glow you saw on the Portkey container?"

"No, darker. Idris said the same glow was on a collar the dragon was wearing."

"What was that?" The banker goblin spoke up.

"We uh, we were just wondering about that goblin back there," Fig lied.

"He watches over this section of the bank," The banker goblin explained. "Rare anyone goes there anymore."

Finally, after the worst travel experience of his life, the cart stopped at another platform and the banker goblin dismounted. The goblin led the way to a bronze oval door covered in a ridiculous amount of locks. He knew it was a vault but that level of security was a bit much.

"When was the last time this vault was opened?" Fig asked. He waved his wand and the twins instantly dried, thank everything. if he had to be stuck in wet clothes WHILE on some ridiculous magic scavenger hunt that almost got him killed and he was in wet clothes he was going to kill someone.

"A goblin has been stationed at my desk for hundreds of years," The banker goblin replied and Percival stumbled over a rock. "In that time no one has visited Vault 12, until today."

"So much for it being Dad's," Idris mumbled.

The banker goblet used the key and the myriad of locks opened themselves, along with the door. Fig thanked the goblin as he stepped inside and Percival made sure to do the same, elbowing Idris until they did too. Percival had been prepared for another grand room filled with treasure or maybe even another damn Portkey or more of that strange crystal. Instead, it was just, a hallway. With a stone wall at the end.

"Um, what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" Percival wondered.

"I'm not sure," Fig replied and turned to the goblin, who was still standing outside the vault. "Sir I wonder if you might-"

"The instructions for vault twelve indicate that I am to grant access to the holder of the key and then close the door," The goblin said. Before any of them could protest or try to stop him the banker waved his hand and the door slammed shut, a continuous clicking noise telling them the locks had rengaged."

"There's not even a keyhole on this side," Percival groaned and ran his hands through his hair, which was STILL WET by the way. "Come on!"

He kicked the vault door in pure frustration as Fig took a deep breath behind him.

"Everything will be alright," Fig tried to reassure him. "Just let me think. There has to be some way out of here. Perhaps revelio? Why don't one of you try it?"

Idris had their wand out before Fig had even finished his question.

"Revelio!" They cried. At the end of the hall, the light shifted just so, like it got caught on the outline of something.

"Percival, you get closer and try," Fig instructed.

Percival wasn't interested in much of anything at the moment but he pulled out his second-hand wand and casted the spell. A door appeared where the light had shifted. Even as frustrated as he was he had to admit the door was beautiful, and curious. The same symbol they'd been seeing rested in the center, glowing as always. The door sat in an elegant stone frame but the door itself was made of a blue opaque glass or crystal. A pattern of crossing lines decorated the door. They kind of reminded Percival of the boning of the corset-compressing vest Idris designed for him.

"Well that's a start," Fig said. "There's that symbol again. I don't suppose you-"

Percival stepped forward, putting his hand on the symbol just like back at the ruins. Just as he suspected, the door and the "vault" disappeared leaving them in another cavernous room speckled with large columns. Not that Percival knew that, as the room was so dark they couldn't even make out each other.

"Percy?!" Idris cried, their voice coming out strangled. Fuck, right. Idris had been terrified of the dark ever since that day. Now not only were they stranded in pitch blackness but Percival and Fig would have been there one second and gone the next.

"It's okay Idris, I'm here, we're okay," Percival promised, keeping his voice even and gentle. As soon as Idris had spoken it was like a switch flipped in Percival's brain. All his frustration and confusion and fear melted away and all that mattered was that Idris was okay.

"Lumos!" Fig's voice said.

His wand lit up, revealing each of them and some of the room around them. The light wasn't particularly bright but it was enough.

Idris stood about a meter away with their arms wrapped around themself. Their breathing was already coming in pants as they looked around frantically. They had their upper arms in such a tight grip they'd end up having bruises if they didn't stop. Percival quickly went up to them and grabbed their hands, letting them squeeze his hands instead of their arms.

"We're right here Dris, we're not going anywhere," Percival swore. "We'll be okay, we just have to get out of here. Can you handle that for me?"

"I, I think so," Idris nodded. "Just don't go too far okay?"

"Of course," Percival promised. "I'll be right here with you.

"I-I'm sorry Professor, I just, I 'm not good with the dark," Idris explained.

"It's quite alright," Fig assured them. "We all have things we fear. For now, let's focus on earning our way out of this vault."

"Of course, the Machiavellian magic vault is a test," Percival sighed. "I should have expected that."

Fig picked a direction and the twins followed right behind him, refusing to stray from the light for even a second. Percival didn't think the monsters were out there. He couldn't feel any sort of magic even similar to them. But Idris hadn't been able to feel the monsters that day either, so they couldn't know that. So Percival put his arm through Idris' as they walked. After a few moments that felt like hours, Percival spotted something in the distance.

"Professor, the glow again," Percival told him. "But on the floor. It's more like a swirl of it."

Percival pointed and Fig quickly led them over to it. Percival wasn't sure what possessed him but as soon as they got close enough it was like his body just knew what to do, even if his mind didn't. He stepped forward into the glow and pointed his wand down at it. Then he whipped his wand up and out. It was like he'd pulled the magic out of the floor as light exploded, turning the floor to glass.

"What was that?" Fig questioned.

"I don't know, I just, knew what to do," Percival did his best to explain. "I could feel it."

"Even weirder than that," Idris spoke up and pointed at the newly crystalline floor.

Each of them had a reflection but there was another reflection in the floor too. It wasn't a person or goblin. It looked like a suit of armor, the kind you'd find lining the walls of a castle. It was knelt on one knee with the point of its sword propped against the floor. The peculiar piece was that there was no suit of armor above the floor.

"Revelio," Percival tried. He seemed to be right in his guess as an identical suit of armor appeared over the reflection. But it was facing a different direction. "Um, the reflection is broken."

"How strange," Fig hummed as he rounded the statue. As he moved so did the reflection. Did it follow people?

"Lumos!" Percival looked over to see Idris' wand also lit up. "Professor could you extinguish your wand."

Fig did so and Idris started walking, letting the reflection follow them until it lined up with the statue. As soon as it fit the statue began to stand because why wouldn't it? It slammed its sword against the floor and magic swirled around them, the same glow they'd been seeing all day, this time trapping them in a large circle as more armor fell from the sky. Fig immediately engaged several of the suits but Percival was focused on the armor raising its sword to attack Idris. Percival opened his mouth to yell but Idris whipped around just in time to throw up a shield that the armor's sword bounced right off of.

"Stupefy!" Percival followed up Idris' protego with a spell of his own. As the statue stumbled Percival threw out a few basic casts, turning the statue to rumble.

"Clever!" Fig praised and Percival pretended it didn't make him grin.

Idris repeated the process too, destroying the next armor with only one basic cast.

They could tell when the waves of armor were over when the magic started swirling faster and closing in on them. Percival made it to Idris' side and linked their arms again as the room went dark once more. Percival casted lumos immediately, expecting to see his twin and mentor waiting there, but the only face he saw was Idris'

"Wait where's Fig?!" Idris cried. "Professor? PROFESSOR?!"

"Idris, come on, deep breath," Percival took one himself for Idris to follow. "You can't panic right now. We gotta focus and find Fig."

As he said it he felt a tug in his chest, like a fishhook yanking on his ribs. It felt like the glow always did so far, except this time as yarn leading him deeper into the labyrinth of columns.

"If there's a minotaur in here I'm dropping out of Hogwarts," Percival grumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. This way, come on."

Their arms stayed linked and their wands stayed out. Percival's wand tip glowed from lumos while Idris was ready with protego and stupefy on the tip of their tongue. They may not have gotten to learn many spells yet but Percival was so thankful that Fig had chosen the spells he did. They didn't come across any more armor but they did come across a statue version of the symbol they'd been seeing, along with more of that swirling light.

“Here we go,” Percival sighed. Just like before he took a mental step back and let his instincts take over. It was like he was forming a connection with the magic itself. They didn't merge into one but they reached for each other, not letting go until their task was done.

This task was for the statue to melt away into the floor and an archway to emerge. The archway led to a room that wasn't actually on the other side, but instead of the glass crystal, it was more like a curtain of blue light.

"That has to be it right?" Idris said.

"It's a step in the right direction at least," Percival nodded. "Come on, either we find Fig or we get out of here and send help."

The twins stepped through into a room even bigger than the last, made of the same metals and glass as the door in the vault. The whole room gave off a blue light that Percival couldn't find the source of.

"Who is building all this?" Idris wondered. "The designs are beautiful..."

"It has to be magic," Percival reasoned. "No way they could hide the building crew it would take to build rooms of this size. Question is, what did they hide."

"Probably that," Idris pointed.

In the center of the room was a low dais that helped a basin of some kind, not unlike a bird bath. The basin was unremarkable but above it floated a small bottle. It had the same metalwork, the same blue glow as everything else. Percival approached the basin slowly, wand at the ready for any more of those suits of armor or traps of some sort. That hook was pulling him forward again, giving him tunnel vision on that bottle. He plucked it out of the air and as soon as he did they heard the sound of doors opening on the other side of the room.

"Professor!" Idris sighed in relief.

"There you are!" Fig said as he approached them. "How did you...? What is this place?"

"I have no idea," Percival shrugged and held up his new bottle. "But I found this hovering above that basin."

"That is no mere basin," Fig realized. "That is a Pensieve, for viewing memories. I wonder..."

Fig took the bottle and opened it, pouring the contents inside. A strange substance made of equal parts liquid and light began to fill the basin.

"Follow my lead," Fig said. He grabbed the sides of the Pensieve and leaned forward until his face was in the water. Idris quickly mirrored him. Percival however hesitated but eventually obliged.

A vision, or a memory apparently, played out before him as if he was right there in the room with them. It was in the same chamber they stood in, as Percival watched two men build it with simple waves of their wands. They made it look effortless like any wizard could construct grand chambers if they felt like it. One of whom shared his name and could see traces of something called "ancient magic". Presumably, it was the glow the twins kept seeing everywhere, as the second man said the path would be impossible to follow without it. But Percival didn't like the sound of "trials".

The three of them gasped as the memory ended and they were expelled from the Pensieve.

"That's what you're seeing?" Fig realized. "The glow that surrounded them?"

"Yes sir," Idris confirmed. "I had no idea it could do all that though."

"It has to be the Ancient Magic they were talking about right?" Percival added.

"Precisely my conclusion," Fig agreed. "The exact magic Miriam had always believed existed but could never..."

Fig took a deep breath as he thought. Then he turned to them with a grave seriousness Percival had never seen in the man in all the months he'd known him.

"Miriam, and perhaps George, died in pursuit of knowledge that has been dormant for centuries," Fig said. "And you, it seems, are the key to understanding why."

Percival wanted to scream and possibly throw something. This was exactly what he'd been so afraid of! Getting tangled up in something they had no business being afraid of. Ancient Magic and trials and dragons, all of it was too much for two fifteen year olds who didn't even have their own wands. All he wanted to do was learn about the fascinating concept of magic, and instead, he had a dragon's bite on his shoulder.

A loud thud sounded from the door Fig entered through and they heard the voice of the banker goblin that brought them to Vault Twelve.

"It all looks rather different than a moment ago."

"Who were they?!" A new voice said. This one was much deeper and more gravelly than the banker's.

"I don't know but sir you shouldn't be in here," The banker protested.

The door swung open to reveal multiple goblins including the banker, the security guard, and the armored goblin from George's newspaper.

"Ranrok," Fig said.

"Seems my reputation proceeds me," Ranrok sneered. "I was beginning to think no one was going to visit Rackham's vault."

"Yeah, definitely not Dad's," Idris muttered and Percival shushed them.

"And why are you here?" Fig demanded. He whipped out his wand and the twins scrambled to follow his lead.

"No need for that," Ranrok put his hands up in a motion of peace. "Just give me whatever it is you found here and we can let bygones be bygones."

Percival was a fan of NOT fighting a bunch of armored goblins but Fig didn't move.

"Sir," The banker spoke up timidly, even daring to put his hand on Ranrok's shoulder to get his attention. "They had the key to the vault."

"Choose your next words wisely," Ranrok warned.

"I, I only meant the instructions for vault twelve were very clear," The goblin pleaded. "Sir I must insist, I was to grant access only to one with the key. And you didn't have-"

A flash of red and the banker goblin rose into the air only to be slammed into the floor hard enough that Percival heard his spine shatter. Idris immediately stepped forward with their wand held in front of them like they were about to duel Ranrok singlehandedly.

"I have no patience for traitors," Ranrok stated simply. "Now, where were we."

"We're not giving you anything!" Idris exclaimed.

"I see," Ranrok growled. "Well, perhaps your friend will be more helpful."

Idris yelled as they whipped out a bolt of magic at Ranrok but Ranrok caught it and threw it right back at them, launching the three of them across the chamber. The room shook as the light from the ceiling dimmed. The basin melted into the floor like the statue had, but instead of an arch rising from the floor out came a colossal suit of armor with a sword taller than most buildings. It slammed its sword down towards the goblins while the three of them scrambled to their feet. Percival caught a glimpse of another archway, with the same glass that seemed to be portals of some kind.

"Professor!" Percival called out. He grabbed Idris and dragged his twin towards the portal. As soon as Fig reached them Percival grabbed him by his robe and slammed his other hand on the portal and in a flash of light the room was gone.

Instead, they stood in a wooded glade, stars bright above their heads and a dirt path beneath their feet.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Percival demanded, immediately turning to Idris.

"I wasn't going to let him threaten you like that!" Idris argued.

"Children please!" Fig said. "All that matters is that we escaped. Is everyone alright?"

"Other than the dragon bite I'm fine," Percival grumbled.

"Me too," Idris huffed. "Minus the dragon bite."

"I've never seen so powerful a goblin," Fig said. "He seemed wholly unaffected by Idris' magic, and they've proven themself to be quite adept at defensive magic."

Fig looked around only to chuckle to himself, making the twins pause in glaring at each other.

"Well, it seems we managed to catch a bit of luck," Fig told them.

"Why?" Idris wondered.

"Apparently, those who set up the Pensieve, the locket, and the path to both, wanted someone with your ability to end up here," Fig explained. "We've arrived at Hogwarts after all."

Argument immediately forgotten both twins felt grins light up their faces as they rushed forward for a glimpse at the school they'd been waiting for for months. When they finally saw it Percival's voice died in his throat.

No book or description or even first hand account could ever do Hogwarts justice. The castle was grander than anything Percival had ever imagined. It rested on a cliff on the edge of a lake. Its towers were practically among the stars and they could see the warm lights of torches through the windows even from there. It was beautiful. It filled him with a sense of whimsy he couldn't quite explain. It was as if they'd been transported to one of the legends Percival adored so much.

"Now come along you two," Fig chuckled. We've a Sorting Ceremony to get to."

Chapter 2 - A Proper Hogwarts Welcome | Percival

A Mourning Warning Masterlist A Mourning Warning Tag Read it on AO3, Read it on Wattpad

Percival felt a bit awkward as he, Idris, and Professor Fig half walked and half ran towards the Great Hall. Thankfully they didn't pass anyone. Everyone else was already in the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. So much for the first impression Idris had been so worried about. They were going to burst into the Great Hall late, in the middle of the sorting, Percival covered in his blood. Fig opened the door just enough to peek inside.

"Oh good, we haven't missed the Sorting Ceremony," Fig sighed in relief as he pulled back. He turned to them only to stop and give them a considering look. "I'm not an expert, but this seems more appropriate."

Fig gave his wand a wave and before their eyes their clothes melted away, covered by white button downs, gray vests, black ties, and black hooded robes with a small Hogwarts logo patch on their chest.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Percival sighed and reached to adjust his sleeves only to see Idris glaring at him. “What?”

“I put a lot of time into that coat,” Idris huffed. “And my outfit.”

“I’ll miss the coat, Dris,” Percy said. “I’m just glad to not meet my classmates and teachers covered in my own blood. Plus you said you couldn’t fix the coat anyway.”

“I said I couldn’t get the blood out of it, and I might have been able to with a spell. Plus my outfit was fine.”

“I assure you, none of your clothes are gone,” Fig said. “I’ve simply sent them to where the rest of the students’ things are waiting to be sent to their dorms. Now, I need to study this locket as quick as I can but first I must contact the Ministry, they need to know about George and must be informed about Ragnarok. For the moment, I ask that you keep all that’s happened this evening between-”

“Oh shit,” Idris realized. 

“What now?” Percival groaned.

“All our stuff,” Idris looked close to hyperventilating again. “It was on the back of the carriage. We literally brought everything we had and, and everything Mom and Dad left us, all the stuff Annabelle made that we kept, my sketchbook-”

“Mom and Dad’s wedding rings,” Percival could feel the tears gathering in his own eyes. With everything that had happened to them just to get to Hogwarts, this was just too much. He wasn’t much up to this Sorting Ceremony anymore.

“I’m truly sorry,” Fig sighed. “I’ll talk to the faculty, see if we can arrange sending a few house elves to search for any of your things that may have survived.”

“Thanks Professor,” Percival muttered, to be polite more than anything else. Those rings were the only things recovered from his parents’ body. The dresses Idris spent hours designing with and for Annabelle. All their pictures of them. Fig had gotten them both made Wards of the Ministry as they didn’t have guardians anymore, meaning they couldn’t go back to Rosewood. They’d had to bring everything. Now it was probably all gone. 

Fig peaked through the door again and Percival immediately pulled Idris into a hug. As he’d expected, Idris quickly wrapped their arms around Percival in return. Every time he tried to say something, anything, the words couldn’t through the tears clogging his throat. But what could he even say? That it would be okay? How could anything be okay? His heart had already been ripped out of his chest in April, and now it was like whatever piece he’d shared with Idris was gone too. 

“Phineas Nigellus Black,” Fig grumbled. He quickly hurried back over to the twins. “I’m sorry to interrupt children, but you must prepare yourselves to meet the Headmaster.”

A man stepped through the ajar door, dressed in a handsome green waistcoat with a gold chain linked to his black satin vest. He had a black beard and mustache, accenting his neatly styled black hair. Percival could feel his skin crawling already, he didn’t even need Idris’ muttered translation that Fig did not like the Headmaster. The Headmaster only gave them a single look —a look that made Percival even more grateful he wasn’t covered in blood—before glaring at Fig. Actually it wasn’t even a glare, more of a haughty sneer.

“Fig!” Black chided. “Nice of you to join us. The Sorting Ceremony is over!”

“There were…complications,” Fig tried to explain.

“Complications?!”

“It seems the goblin problem-”

“Enough!” Black scoffed. “Goblins. I’ve no time for rumors, Fig, and I’m rapidly losing whatever patience I had left.”

Black sighed and turned to the twins. Percival had to fight the urge to take a step back, maybe hide behind Idris to escape the Headmaster’s gaze.

“If you’re lucky we might be able to get you Sorted this evening,” Black huffed. 

Black walked off without a word and Idris hurried after him, making Percival realize they were supposed to follow, despite Black not saying anything to indicate so. 

Percival was lucky he didn’t run into a table. The moment he stepped into the Great Hall it wasn’t the tables covered in more food than should be possible that he noticed, the risen stage where the faculty and a three legged stool were waiting, the giant fireplaces, or the enchanting floating candles. It was the ceiling. Spread out above them was a perfect recreation of the very stars in their sky, from the stars to the color of the sky to the clouds. It wasn’t a skylight, it was as if they’d simply removed a piece and placed it above the room.

The twins followed the Headmaster toward the stage, where a red-haired woman with spectacles was holding a hat so ancient Percival was waiting for it to disintegrate in her fingers. Sorting, right. Percival braced himself, knowing he’d be called first if this was done alphabetically. “Percival” didn’t come before “Idris” but the name Percy had been born with did and that always seemed to be the one used. 

“Professor Weasley, two more to be Sorted,” Black commanded. 

“Welcome!” Professor Weasley greeted them. She already seemed much more cheery than the Headmaster. “You’re just in time. The Valley twins I presume?”

“Yes ma’am,” The twins replied in unison.

“Wonderful,” Weasley gave them a reassuring smile as she checked a list on the table next to her. “Idris, you are first. Have a seat.”

A smile flitted onto Percival’s face for a split second to match the one Idris flashed him before they ascended the stage and sat on the stool. Weasley placed the hat on Idris’ head and simply stood there and waited. Idris kept making faces like they were talking to the hat, but no word left either of their mouths. Minute after minute passed as more and more mutterings began to fill the Great Hall. Even the teachers at the faculty table behind Idris were glancing at each other in confusion. Percival couldn’t make out what anyone was saying but he swore he heard someone mention the words “hat stall”. It took six whole minutes before the hat spoke.

“Better be….GRYFFINDOR!”

The table directly to Percival’s right covered in children in red uniforms roared their approval. They began cheering like crazy and even though Percival wanted to chop his ears off he had to laugh a little as he also applauded his sibling. Oh yeah, Idris was definitely going to fit in there. Weasley waved her wand the same as Professor Fig had out in the entrance hall and Idris’ uniform transferred from a plain one to a red one, getting yet another cheer from the Gryffindor table. Idris was laughing as they gave Percival a rushed hug before finding somewhere to sit at their new table.

“Percival, your turn,” Professor Weasley said.

Percival sat down on the three headed stool and tried to sit as still as possible to put the hat on his head.

Ah, another older one. 

Percival nearly jumped out of his skin. Well that explained Idris’ conversation. He’d known the hat talked but hadn’t realized it was inside his head.

Of course I’m in your head. This is where the things that matter are. I see you’ve studied profusely with your mentor, good, good. But you’ve come with preferences and preconceptions and theories. Expectations.

I’m looking forward to my classes, Percival replied. I’ve hardly learned anything about magic compared to what I’ve seen just today. I want to know everything there is to know.

Curious…yes, I see. You love an unanswered question but hate not knowing. I know exactly what to do with you. 

“RAVENCLAW!”

Percival felt a rush of relief go through him as the other center table started clapping and cheering for him. He was sure the other houses had their merits, but none of them had ever felt quite right to him. Somehow he’d always had a feeling he’d belonged in Ravenclaw, from the day Fig told them about the Houses.

Percival got off the stool and Weasley waved her wand again, turning gray to a deep sapphire blue that was immediately calming to his mind. The grin on his face probably made him look like an idiot but he didn’t care. Everything was finally hitting him. He’d been excited for Hogwarts before but this was different. It wasn’t just something coming up on the horizon. He was here. He was a student. Better, he was a Ravenclaw.

As Percival found a seat at the end of the table, the girl next to him immediately leaned over to talk to him.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” The girl said. “I’m Samantha Dale, I’m a fifth year too. It’s wonderful to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Percival replied.

The conversation was cut short by Professor Black stepping up to the front of the stage.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Black said. “Due to the unfortunate injury on the pitch in last spring’s final, this year’s Quidditch season has been canceled.”

Immediately Black was bombarded by boos and protests. Percival himself couldn’t care less. Fig had told them about Quidditch and Percival had no interest in it. Less, actually. But he knew Idris had been looking forward to at least watching a game, maybe even trying out for their house team, so he felt a little bad for them he supposed. 

“Enough!” Black commanded. “It’s not as though I’ve banned flying altogether. But don’t tempt me. You are here to focus on your academic futures. I’m sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow.”

He made a motion with his hands but clearly no one understood what on Earth he was supposed to be saying because the whole hall just stared at him waiting for him to clarify. Eventually he repeated himself much more forcefully and all but shooed them away, leading the students to rush from the hall.

“You two!” Black pointed to Percival and then Idris. He gestured for them to approach and they did so hesitantly. “Professor Weasley, would you be so kind as to show our new students to their common rooms.”

“I shall see to it, sir,” Weasley agreed.

She waited for Black to walk away before she started talking to the twins with a warm smile.

“You two made quite the entrance,” Weasley chuckled. “I’m Professor Weasley. Pleased to meet you.”

“Great to meet you too, professor,” Idris replied and shook her hand, Percival following their example. 

“As Deputy Headmistress it is my distinct honor to show you to your common rooms,” Professor Weasley told them. “The Ravenclaw common room is right this way.”

Percival and Idris followed Professor Weasley as she led them through corridors and up staircases. Even with the sight of the castle from where they'd landed after Gringotts, Percival still couldn't believe how expansive Hogwarts was. Every time he thought there would be a dead end or exit of some kind there was another hall or another staircase. The star cases especially seemed endless. 

Finally, after climbing a tower, they went up a much shorter flight of stairs that led to a door blocked but a fixture of a large bronze eagle. It seemed to double as a door knocker but it was much too large to be practical in that regard. Before they could fully approach however, Weasley stopped and turned to talk to them.

"It's quite uncommon for a student to begin as a fifth year," Weasley told them. Percival could almost physically feel Idris restraining themself from commenting on how often they've heard so. "Might be a bit of a challenge, but one I'm sure you're up for."

"We are, Professor," Percival said. 

"Yeah, we aren't going to let a little thing like a challenge stop us," Idris agreed. "We're ready for this. We've been ready for this for months."

"I appreciate your confidence," Weasley chuckled. "Now, Idris, if you will retreat down the stairs for a moment, I'm afraid entry into the common rooms is a closely kept secret."

Idris nodded and nudged Percival with their shoulder.

"See you tomorrow," Idris promised. "Don't get eaten by a dragon."

Percival barked out a laugh from surprise, immediately covering his mouth until he collected himself. "I'll try my best."

Idris pulled them into one last hug before heading on down the stairs. Being separated from Idris and knowing it would be further was a strange feeling. It was just because of everything they'd been through together just that day. Not to mention they had been attached at the hip since April. Now they were wandering away and Percival was somehow both relieved and anxious as Idris disappeared.

"This is the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room," Weasley explained, pulling Percival from his thoughts. "You must solve a riddle to enter."

"A riddle?" Percival bit back a smile. 

"I'm glad it excites you," Weasley said "This sort of thing always confuses me."

Percival stepped up to the door and locked up at the knocker. He expected the beak to open like the sorting hat with its almost-mouth. Instead the voice of the eagle simply rang out into the stairwell.

Who lived longer, the ghost or the poltergeist?

Now how was he supposed to know that? He doubted the eagle would engage in a round of context questions. How long would a poltergeist have lived? That was not something he studied with Fig much.

Wait.

"Neither," Percival realized. "Neither a ghost nor poltergeist has ever lived. They aren't truly people anymore. A nonbeing can never have been."

The eagle lowered its head and folded its wings, letting the door swing inwards. Percival just caught a glimpse of white stone floors, vaulted blue ceilings, and a large stone statue of another eagle before Professor Weasley spoke again.

"Well done," Professor Weasley said. "Now, go on in and get some sleep.  Professor Fig has already made us aware of your situation, so there will be nightclothes and a spare uniform sitting on your bed."

"Thank you Professor," Percival smiled at her.

He entered the common room, the door closing on its own behind him. The stairs split in front of him, following the curve of the tower. When he got to the top he had to pause in his tracks for a moment. It was perfect. He could feel that with just a glance but he decided to wait to really look around until the morning. 

Now that he wasn't running on the adrenaline of a dragon attack, goblin attack, and the excitement from the Sorting, he could already feel his eyelids growing heavy. He was glad he wasn't forced to meet a bunch of people while exhausted, but he was now running into the problem that he had no idea where the dorms were.

"You look lost there, stranger," A thankfully familiar voice approached and Percy forced his eyes open. 

"Samantha," Percival sighed in relief. "I'm glad to see a familiar face, even if we only just met."

"I was on my way to my dorm but I noticed you hadn't arrived yet," Samantha told him. "I remember how strange and disorienting it was my first year, I can't even imagine how strange it must be to start as a fifth-year. So I decided to wait for a bit to see if you made it alright. I'm happy you did."

"I am as well," Percival smiled a little, too tired for anything more, but he could already feel a small flower of connection blooming. "Thank you for that, I certainly appreciate the gesture. I don't suppose you could also show me the dorms?"

"I'd love to," Samantha gave him a warm smile and gestured for him to follow her.

She led him to the seam separating too large circular rooms. On either side of them was a staircase leading up and down, the entrance to each side flanked by two suits of bronze or silver armor. The silver was on Percival's left while the bronze were on his right. 

"The girls and boys have separate dorms," Samantha explained. "The armor is there so they can't enter the other dorms. Your dorm, the boys, will be past the silver armor. Two flights down should be the fifth year dorms."

Wonderful, dorms separated by magic. He hadn't even thought of that, but the gendered dorms of course made sense. He should have asked Fig or even Weasley about it but it was too late now. He went to step toward the bronze armor only to pause. They'd used his name in the Sorting Ceremony, the one he picked, not the one he was born with. Maybe...

He took a deep breath and stepped toward the silver armor instead. He prepared himself for it to block him but the armor didn't even twitch. He let out a breathy, relieved laugh and glanced at Samantha over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Samantha," Percival said. "Again."

"You're welcome," Samantha replied. "Again."

When Percival managed to find his dorm there was only one other boy already in there, a boy who was already unpacking his things. He seemed like he was Percival's height, with neat black hair and skin that matched the wooden accents of the common room. When he finally looked up from his trunk and spotted Percival his eyes were a rich dark brown that reminded Percy of Idris' eyes. 

The dorms themselves were everything Percival ever wanted from a dorm, and certainly much nicer than Rosewood's. The twins' room at Rosewood had two beds, one nightstand, two dressers, and that was it. But the Ravenclaw dorms had the same vaulted ceilings as the common room, all stained glass windows, wooden floors with matching accents along the walls. There were large wardrobes to Percy's left, allowing plenty of spade for storage so the bed areas wouldn't get crowded. There were of course four writing desks, this was Ravenclaw after all. The beds were bunk beds but they were built to be like their own tiny rooms, with wooden frames and curtains that could be drawn for privacy.

"Why, hello!" The boy said. "Oh, you're the new fifth year aren't you? I'm Amit. Pleasure to have you in Ravenclaw."

"Percival. I'm one of the new fifth years, yes," Percival nodded. "My twin sibling is in Gryffindor."

He glanced around and saw the bed across from Amit's didn't have any trunks ready to be unpacked, just a pair of nightclothes and an extra uniform folded neatly on the bed, just as Professor Weasley promised. He pushed the thoughts of his lost luggage aside before they could overtake him.

"Ah, I remember now," Amit nodded.

He opened a trunk which seemed to have been entirely dedicated to a telescope which he set about reconstructing. Percival found himself staring. He'd always wanted a telescope, ever since he was a toddler and his mother taught him his first constellation. But it had always slipped his grasp. Amit finished setting up his telescope but caught Percival staring. 

"Sorry," Percival shook his head like he was trying to escape a telescope-induced trance. "I just have always wanted a telescope like that."

"Would you like to take a look?" Amit offered. "You'd be surprised how much of the sky you can see from the tower at night."

The correct answer was 'absolutely fuck yes' but Percival was able to restrain himself. He let Amit finish adjusting the telescope before he went over and peaked through the lens. Immediately it was like he forgot how to breathe. 

"It's beautiful," Percival whispered. He pulled back from the telescope already grinning at Amit. "No wonder you'd set up a telescope in the dorm."

"There's another in the common room and of course plenty in the Astronomy Tower!"

"If you know the location of every telescope in this school I take it you like Astronomy?"

"Oh yes," Amit nodded enthusiastically. "So much to be learned from the stars. Also, there's something about the open air and night sky above the tower. It's invigorating."

"Finally, someone with sense," Percival sighed. "My sibling is clever in their own right, but they could never understand the appeal of the stars. I've read every book on them I could get my hands on, but honestly it wasn't many."

"You will adore Astronomy," Amit promised. "Professor Shah is incredibly knowledgeable. And don't worry, it's a required class for all fifth-years so it will definitely be on your schedule. You'll be enthralled with the Astronomy Tower. You should try to find a good quality telescope, they can show you things you never dreamed of."

"I think you and I will end up friends," Percival grinned. "It was nice to meet you, Amit."

"You as well!"

Percival changed as quickly as he could, unlacing the corset and feeling his spine immediately relax. It was a price but a very small one in his opinion. He stuffed it under his bed once he was done changing just in case and climbed into bed, his eyes falling closed before he even hit the pillow. 

He didn't get to meet his other roommates yet as by the time he woke up the dorm was empty already. Percival donned his spare uniform and hurried back up to the common room. He wasn't really sure what to do next. He didn't have a schedule yet, Fig had told them days ago there would be someone to explain their schedule and classes something about arrangements for a system to catch them up to their peers. So he supposed he just had to wait? He wasn't supposed to meet them somewhere was he? Did he just stand there? Did he mingle? He didn't see Amit anywhere, but Samantha was off to the side moving around a plant pot.

"Good morning," Samantha greeted him, then gestured to the plant. "I want him to be in the perfect place. A place he'll be happy with. But I can't seem to find it. Great golden Gobstones, I want him to thrive here."

"Golden Gobstones?" Percival cocked his head as he considered the phrase.

"My own little expression," Samantha giggled. "I brought this dittany seedling from home and I so want him to feel cosy. Dittany is amazing, isn't it? So much healing power in such a little plant."

Percival tried to rack his brain for anything he could remember about dittany. He didn't exactly have the best track record with Herbology so far.

"Dittany..." Percival hummed. "That's used in Wiggenweld potions, isn't it?"

"It is!" Samantha confirmed. "Looks like someone's been studying up on their Potion-making." 

"Quite a bit, yes," Percival said. "We studied some with Professor Fig before the term started to help us catch up. I did quite well with Potions but not so much with Herbology."

"I've got a bit of a thing for plante, as you can see," Samantha chuckled. "What was it like getting to learn directly from Fig? He's always been an enigma to me. Teaches about theory yet seems to know a lot about practical magic."

"He knows a little about a lot of things," Percival answered. "He's quite knowledgeable which was very helpful."

"I hope he taught you enough," Samantha said. "You've lots to catch up on I'm sure."

"I'm curious, is it common practice for students to grow their own ingredients?" Percival wondered. If so, he was already grieving his potions grade.

"Oh yes!" Samantha nodded. "In fact, our herbology teacher, Professor Garlick, encourages it. And I don't think Professor Sharp—our potions master—cares where you get your ingredients as long as your brews are all perfect."

"Is the new fifth year in here?" A voice echoed through the common room. "Percival Valley? Professor Weasley is waiting for you outside the common room."

"I'd better hurry," Percival said. "It was nice talking to you, Samantha. Good luck with your dittany."

"You too!" Samantha replied. "And good luck to you too on your first day!"

Percival went down the stairs he'd entered through - thankfully he remembered which ones they were - and the door swung out for him, revealing Professor Weasley with her hands clasped in front of her and an impatient Idris pacing the balcony.

"I hope you weren't waiting too long Professor," Percival apologized and prepared himself for the crushing hug Idris pulled him into.

"The Gryffindor common room is so cool!" Idris told him. "It's got this nice warm tone so it's nice and cozy and it feels really lived in and comfortable with all the warm woods and this huge fireplace."

"The Ravenclaw dorm is gorgeous too," Percival told him, already feeling his lips twitching to smile as Idris shook their hands excitedly. It was so nice to see them so excited. "I think we're keeping Professor Weasley waiting though."

"Right, sorry Professor!" Idris winced and quickly stepped away from Percival, clasping their hands behind their back.

"It's alright," Professor Weasley chuckled. "It's always gratifying to hear students' excitement over their common rooms, especially Gryffindors. Now, I trust you two are ready for your first day at Hogwarts?"

"I've been ready for the last four years," Idris answered.

"I've been dreaming of this day for months," Percival agreed. "I almost can't believe we're here." 

"Well you are here," Professor Weasley smiled. "Make the most of it. You only have one first day at Hogwarts. Now, in light of your unique situation, joining us as a 5th year, you'll need to catch up with your classmates, and not fall behind. Especially as you'll be expected to complete your O.W.L.s at the end of the year."

"Owls?" Idris' eyebrows scrunched up a bit in confusion.

"Yes, your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams," Professor Weasley explained. "They will determine what type of career you can have when you leave here. After much discussion with the Headmaster and the Department of Magical Education at the ministry, we;ve devised a few ways to ensure your success."

"The first of these is your classes," Weasley continued. "To begin you will only be attending Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Herbology. Other classes such as Beasts, Astronomy, and the electives you selected with Professor Fig will be added to your schedule as you progress so as to not overwhelm you too early in the term. The second is this."

Professor Weasley held out her hands and two large leather bound books fell into them. She handed one to each of them. Percival tried to open his but it burst open all on its own, Idris' just behind it. Pages flew from the books shrouded in golden light. They swirled through the air, weaving through each other and the pages from Percival's book, until they all filed back into the book and into Percy's hands again.

"What is it?" Percival wondered.

"It is a wizard's field guide," Weasley answered. "It will help you to keep track of what you're learning so that you master all that's expected of a fifth year. You would be wise to take advantage of this exceptionally valuable resource."

Professor Weasley spent a few minutes explaining the Field Guide to them. Pages were in the book and scattered around the world for them to learn Wizarding lore, there were challenges listed in the book to help track their milestones, a map, and a place where they could take notes of their own. She also took the time to show them the floo flame system, leading to them descending the staircase in the Central Hall, an absolute monolith of a room with a fountain of stone mermaids, a chiseled dragon mural, an overhang leading to the library, and what looked like the entrance to a greenhouse.

"You can get almost anywhere in the castle quickly from Central Hall," Weasley told them. "Always something happening here. It's the heart of the hive. Our 'Kings Cross Station,' so to speak."

Professor Weasley stopped at the bottom of the stairs, giving them a moment to gaze around the wall. Idris was staring right at the dragon effigy with rapt attention. They seemed entranced by it but was pulled back when Weasley spoke again.

"What should be all for now," Weasley said. "You'll be expected to attend both Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts classes today."

Professor Weasley made a motion like plucking something out of the air, conjuring two pieces of paper. She waved her wand and handed them to the twins.

"These are your schedules for now," Weasley explained. "The other classes will appear as the Headmaster, Professor Fig, and I approve your progress."

While Percival was a little disappointed he wouldn't get to attend Astronomy yet, and he imagined Idris was disappointed they would be missing Beasts class, but he also understood the reasoning behind it and was grateful for it.

"I'd also like to speak with you about your belongings," Weasley said. That got their attention. "Deek!"

A creature Percival only recognized as a house-elf from pictures appeared next to Professor Weasley.

"Children, this is Deek, a house elf here at Hogwarts," Weasley introduced the elf. "Deek, these are the students you were told about. Deek and a few other house-elves were asked to search for and salvage as many of your things as you can."

"Deek and his friends are still searching," Deek said shyly. "It is taking longer than Deek expected, but all your things are being delivered to your rooms as they are found. But Deek found this and thought Idris would like to have it back. Deek tried to repair it as best as Deek could."

"I'm Idris, what is it?" Idris asked, words coming out in a breathless rush.

Deek made the same motion Professor Weasley had to summon their field guides, but what fell into his hand was a different leatherbound book. This was much smaller and simple, held closed with a brass latch and with a rose carved into the leather of the front cover. It was certainly more worn and dirty than Percival remembered, but there was no doubt what it was.

"My sketchbook!" Idris gasped and quickly took the book. They started flipping through it faster than Percival would have been able to, eyes darting around and taking in information that mystified Percival but apparently brought Idris so much relief there were tears in their eyes. "You said you fixed it, Deek?"

"Deek hopes the drawings are alright," Deek wrung his hands a little but Idris just laughed.

"They're amazing," Idris assured him. "Thank you so much, Deek."

"Some things did not survive," Professor Weasley informed them. "Namely many of your school supplies. As such, I'd like to be sure you get to Hogsmeade as soon as possible to replace them."

"Hogsmeade?" Percival asked.

"Hogsmeade is the only all-wizarding village in Britain, and is home to an array of shops and pubs," Professor Weasley said. "You should be able to find all of the supplies you need, along with anything else you may want, even wands of your own."

"Thank you for explaining all this, Professor Weasley," Percival replied.

"A lot to absorb on your first day, I know," Weasley said. "And you have much to learn. Happily, your professors have agreed to create additional assignments for you outside of class. You’ll be up to speed in no time. Judging by your adept use of revelio earlier, I'd say Professor Fig succeeded in at least showing you the basics.”

“Very much so,” Percival confirmed. “We didn’t quite have time to go over all the spells he wanted to teach us, but we have plenty to build up with, both in spellcasting and in subjects like Potions and Herbology.”

“Wonderful,” Weasley nodded. “While we’re on the subject, Professor Fig has been terribly vague about the events preceding your arrival, specifically about what happened after that awful dragon attack. My suspicion is that there’s more to the story than a fruitless search for belonging and an extended trip up to the castle.”

Percival frowned a little. He vaguely remembered Fig asking them to keep the story to themselves but he would think that meant their fellow students, and perhaps Professors like the Headmaster. Professor Weasley was very unlike Black. Besides, she was a teacher, and had on repeated occasions shown concern and care for their well being in the last twelve hours alone. Percival opened his mouth to speak but Idris did so first.

“I’m afraid there isn’t,” Idris said. “I’m sorry Professor, but that’s really all there is to it.”

Percival seriously considered interrupting them but as much as he disagreed with them, he didn’t want to get them in trouble for lying before they even got to their first class. So, he remained silent but internally made a note to speak with Fig about this at length after classes.

“Hmm, almost precisely what Professor Fig said,” Weasley hummed. 

As if he’d been summoned, the man himself approached from Percival’s left.

“Speak of the devil,” Weasley said. “Professor Fig. Your ears must have been burning.”

“Oh?” Fig replied.

“Yes. You seem to have provided our new fifth-years with a solid foundation in the basics of spell-casting.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit there, Professor. They’ve a rare aptitude for magic it seems.”

“Hmm,” Professor Weasley hummed again, which Percival was pretty sure meant she did not believe them at all. “Well, I’m just glad you all arrived in one piece. Perfectly good boats and carriages to Hogwarts and you chose to fly in the path of a dragon.”

“I wouldn’t say I chose the dragon’s path professor,” Fig pointed out. “Rather, unfortunately, it would seem that it chose us.”

“Very well,” Weasley sighed. “Enough chit-chat. I need to get to class myself. Might I rely on you, Professor Fig, to explain the details of the Field Guide’s compass?”

“Of course.”

Professor Weasley turned back to the twins.

“Good luck today,” Professor Weasley told them. “And remember to use your Field Guide. It will be invaluable to you. And, invaluable to me as I’ll be using it to keep up to date on your progress. Come and find me in my classroom after you’ve attended both your classes today, and I’ll explain more about those assignments I mentioned. And we’ll see if we can’t get you to Hogsmeade for those supplies.”

As Weasley walked away Fig stared after her. The moment she turned a corner and was out of sight, Fig stepped close enough to the twins he could drop his voice to a whisper.

“Did I hear you masterfully evade Professor Weasley’s interrogation regarding our late arrival?” Fig questioned.

“Yes you did, Professor,” Idris answered with a grin, practically glowing with pride.

“Though I’m not sure we should have,” Percival spoke up. “I don’t like the idea of keeping secrets like this, and certainly not lying about them. Perhaps we should tell someone, Professor Weasley especially. I’m fairly certain she already suspects we aren’t being entirely forthcoming. She may be able to help us. She seems to be quite the capable witch.”

“She is a brilliant and astute witch,” Fig agreed. “But it was right to keep the details to yourselves for now. We don’t know where this path we’ve embarked on will lead. It may require a bit more…flexibility with your time than she would approve of. And she may feel obliged to share details with the headmaster that would be better left between us.”

Percival had to admit hiding it from Professor Black seemed a good idea. The Headmaster had seemed flippant at best about his students and neglectful at most. But what he kept coming back to was the fact they shouldn’t be on this path at all. If Fig wanted to continue to investigate, that was his right. Percival would even be willing to help in certain situations, but this was not his or Idris’ responsibility. They’d already countered dragons, Ranrok, deadly suits of armor, and the colossus that fought Ranrok and nearly killed the three of them too. No children should be involved with that.

“Professor, I don’t-”

“Understood, Professor,” Idris interrupted him again. Percival made another note to argue with Idris later as well. 

“Good,” Professor Fig said. “Now. As capable as the two of you are, I believe the ability you possess obliges you to be well-trained. Happily, you have the benefit of an exceptionally skilled team of witches and wizards to guide you.”

Percival barely caught sight of Idr’s eyebrows scrunching up a little but they didn’t say anything as Fig continued on to explain the Charmed Compass in the Field Guide, which would certainly come in handy. A map of the castle was handy but Percival could hardly decipher the thing. There were too many random corridors and staircases and oddly placed doors to easily track your path. 

“Now, sounds like you’ve quite a day ahead what with classes and a trip to Hogsmeade,” Professor Fig commented. “Including your wands, which I know you are particularly excited for. You’ll enjoy Mr. Ollivander. He’s an exceptional craftsman and a good friend. For now, focus on your glasses. I shall reach out when I have more information about our mysterious locket.”

“See you soon Professor,” Idris waved to Fig as he stepped away. 

Idris pulled out their field guide and copied the wand motion Fig had shown them. A golden page burst out of the book and flew out up the stairs, thankfully leaving a golden trail of light behind for them to follow.

“Guess Charms is that way,” Idris snickered.

Percivla was silent as they followed the compass the page left behind, too busy engaging in a debate with himself to try and start any sort of conversation. Idris obviously had no qualms about this Ancient Magic path, while Percival had more than a few reservations. But what really grinded his gears was the way Idris had kept talking over him during the conversation with Fig. It was a habit Idris had and normally Percival could tolerate it, but that didn't feel like habit. It seemed more purposeful, to keep Percy from saying anything against what Fig and Idris thought best. 

“Hey Perce?” Idris said. Apparently they were having a conversation after all. Percival hummed in acknowledgment. “Am I a witch or a wizard?”

“What?”

“Sometimes I’m more of a man or a woman, but not all the time,” Idris reminded him. “Most of the time I’m not really either. I guess sometimes I’m both, but that’s not helpful here. So would I be a witch or a wizard?”

“Huh,” Percival tilted his head as he considered it. The debate could wait, this was something important to Idris. Besides, it was an interesting question. “I suppose neither.”

“What am I then?”

“You could make up your own word,” Percival suggested. “Or choose a different one.”

“Have you seen any in those old legends you read?” Idris wondered.

“Plenty,” Percival answered. “Sorcerer could be neutral, as could warlock, mage, sometimes I’ve seen the word shaman-”

“I like mage,” Idris grinned, bouncing on their toes a little now as they walked. “Mage feels good.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful mage,” Percival laughed and Idris made a little noise of excitement as they approached the end of the compass’ trail, which presumably meant they’d found their charms class.

The Charms classroom was like no classroom Percival had ever seen. It reminded him of an amphitheater, now that he thought about it. A lower floor through the center of arcing tiers, each with a long table with three chairs. At the opposite end was a platform like a viewing box with what Percival assumed was the Professor’s desk. Already their classmates were waving to each other and finding seats, leaving Percival and Idris to stand there aimlessly.

“Where do you want to sit?” Percival asked.

“No idea,” Idris sighed.

“Here!” A girl’s voice came from their right. On the top tier was a girl in a Gryffindor uniform and Idris immediately smiled. “There are open seats here.”

“Up there, come on,” Idris decided. They grabbed Percival’s hand and dragged him up, like he wasn’t perfectly capable of following on his own. They steered Percival to the seat on the end and they sat in the middle, between Percival and the girl.

“Percy, this is Natsai, or Natty,” Idris explained. “We met in our common room this morning and she’s freaking awesome. Natty, this is my brother I told you about, Percival.”

“I remember!” Natty replied. “They told me quite a bit about you. It’s nice to meet you Percival. Have you met Professor Ronen yet-”

She was interrupted by a man clearing his throat on the other side of the classroom. At the top of a curved staircase their professor appeared, dressed in purple and green and looking far too cheerful for such an early morning. 

“Shall we begin?” Professor Ronen exclaimed. “Welcome to year five of Charms Now, this will be a crucial year in your education on the art of Charmwork, but I am confident that we will take hold with the passion and rigor requisite of such a challenge.”

“He talks like you,” Idris snickered into Percival’s ear and Percy elbowed them.

“Right, now everyone, please open your textbooks to page five one seven,” Ronen ordered.

“Do you think he’ll take ‘a dragon ate my homework’ as an excuse,” Idris winced.

“It’s just the one class, we’re getting new books this afternoon,” Percival reminded them. “But…yeah, this could get annoying fast if we need books in Defense Against the Dark Arts too.”

“We can share mine,” Natty offered and slid her textbook over to Idris since they were in the middle.

“Told you she was awesome,” Idris commented as they opened the textbook.

“Buuut, before we begin,” Ronen cut them off before they could find the page. “Can anyone tell me the difference between the incantations of the Colour Change and Growth Charm?”

Percival immediately threw his hand in the hair, having studied this exact thing so he didn’t get the extremely similar incantations confused. Apparently no one else had done the same as no one else raised their hands.

“Only one?” Ronen clicked his tongue disappointedly. “Mr. Valley I believe?”

“Yes sir,” Percival nodded. “The growth charm begins with cres, rather than colo, but both incantations end the same.”

“Well done Mr. Valley, ten points to Ravenclaw!” Ronen clapped his hands. “As for the rest of you, the summer months must have really taken a toll on you. By the looks of it, you all spent your holidays practicing obliviate on each other!”

Professor Ronen laughed to himself as he considered his students.

“Do you even remember how to perform a basic summoning charm?” Ronen wondered.

It wasn’t that Percival had forgotten , rather that he’d never learned how. The summoning charm had been on the list of spells Fig had not gotten around to teaching them, leaving Percival to look just as oblivious as the students who should have learned it in fourth year. “Hm. Well, it seems we are in dire need of review.”

Professor Ronen directed them all to stand on opposite sides of the classroom, Percival across from Natty and Idris across from a tall Gryffindor boy with short ginger. Ronen made sure each pair had a book and instructed them to take turns summoning them from each others’ hands. Thankfully he took the time to quickly teach the twins the wand movement and incantation for the spell so they could participate in the exercise. 

Idris’ first attempt at the charm only gave the book in their partner’s hand a small yank, but when Percival tried the charm Natty’s textbook flew from her grip and into Percival’s hand so fast it almost hit him in the face.

“That is certainly not bad,” Natty chuckled. 

“You are a swift learner!” Ronen praised him. “I see a lot of potential. But remember, potential is nothing without practice! Keep at it, you might just rival Miss Onai here!”

A few minutes passed of the students summoning the books back and forth. It looked like Idris and their partner made a sort of game out of it, even though they couldn’t speak to each other from opposite sides of the classroom. Idris managed to get the spell down too which Percival was proud of them for.

“Well!” Professor Ronen grabbed their attention again. “As you all seem to have the basics down, and it is an exceptionally lovely day, I was thinking we might have ourselves a little excursion outside for a spot of fresh air. After me!”

Percival and Idris shared a glance of confusion before following their professor down through the castle and onto the lawn. 

“I’ve always found that fun goes hand-in-hand with mastery, as I’m sure the quidditch players amongst us would agree,” Professor Ronen chuckled. “So, what better than a bit of sport to put our prowess with the Summoning Charm to the test?”

Professor Ronen waved his wand through the air and the class watched as colorful planks of wood constructed themselves into two platforms, one with numbers at each color and the other with stairs. Large blue spheres like marbles dropped onto the far platform as Ronen waved Percival up the stairs.

“So, why don’t we have one of our new students start us off?”

Ronen quickly explained the game to him, which was called Summoner’s Court. Apparently the goal was to use the summoning charm on the balls and pull them towards you, but time the release of your charm so they landed as close to the edge as possible without falling off. Charms and timing. Percival could definitely handle this. And sure enough, he came out of it with a near perfect score, having ended with only one sphere outside the final zone.

“Excellently done!” Ronen cheered. Percival expected him to switch Percival out for another student, but instead three more balls dropped onto the court, this time red.

This time Percival had to play against Natty. He would normally deny it but Natsai won very easily. He hadn’t even thought of the fact they could knock each other’s marbles off the court, docking their opponents’ points significantly. 

So next round, even with the moving boxes Ronen decided to add, Percival was ready. Not only did Percival win this time, but he won with a perfect score and beat Natty by fifty points.

“Very good both you, well done,” Ronen complimented them both as they descended from the platform.

He matched up a few more students but soon they were headed back inside to the Charms classroom to retrieve their things as Ronen dismissed class.

“Good game back there Percival,” Natty chuckled. “I must admit, I think I underestimated you. Took weeks for me to get proficient in accio. Took weeks for me to get anything right when I transferred here. It gets easier, I promise.”

“I’m glad someone understands,” Percival said. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.” 

“To put it lightly!” Natty agreed.

“At least we’re holding our own so far,” Idris pointed out. “Especially Percival over here. Already mastering a charm we didn’t even get to glance at.”

“Charms are easy,” Percival shrugged.

“Maybe for you .”

“You’re good at other things,” Percival argued.

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it,” Idris grinned. “Natty, did you say you transferred to Hogwarts too?”

“Yes, I transferred here from Uagadou just before my fourth year,” Natty answered. “My mother received an offer to teach divination here. Before I knew it we had left Uganda and were halfway around the world at a new school in a new country.”

“Is Uagadou another wizarding school?” Percival asked.

“Yes, Uagadou School of Magic is the largest Wizarding school in the world,” Natty giggled. “But it never felt intimidating. It only felt like home.”

“You know, we could have ended up at Uagadou,” Idris realized. “Remember, we almost ended up staying in Gauteng because that’s where mom’s family was from and they couldn’t find Dad’s, which suddenly makes a lot of sense. If we’d stayed there we probably would have ended up at Uagadou instead of Hogwarts.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Percival hummed. “But you’re right. Wow. That’s strange to think about. Now I’m even more curious.”

“I’d be happy to talk about Uagadou,” Natty said. 

“This might seem an odd question, but is magic the same there as it is here?” Percival wondered. 

“Mostly yes,” Natty hummed. “But I did have to learn how to use a wand when I arrived here. Hardly anyone at Uagadou uses one.”

“Oh yeah, Professor Fig mentioned wandless magic,” Idris remembered. “It’s instinctive, right?”

“You’d know wouldn’t you?” Percival teased.

“I don’t follow,” Natty said.

“This?” Percival gestured to their hair. “Their fault. They accidentally turned it purple when we were little and no one’s been able to change it back. I’d certainly call that instinctive magic.”

“Or perhaps a jinx,” Natsai chuckled.

“Mr. and Mx. Valley, a moment if you please?” Ronen called out as the last few students filed out of the classroom. 

“See you later Natty!” Idris waved.

“Yeah, what they said,” Percival laughed. “I look forward to seeing you around, and continuing to make you work for your Charms reputation.”

“I look forward to seeing you try,” Natsai laughed too before leaving.

Professor Ronen congratulated Percival again on his success and praised Idris for how quickly they learned the charm. Then he reminded them of the extra assignments Professor Weasley had mentioned which Percival would admit he had forgotten about. Ronen told them to expect one from him in the near future and sent them off to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Well that was definitely a class,” Idris laughed as they followed the compass again, this time from Percival’s Field Guide.

“What do you think this one will entail?” Percival wondered. “Didn’t Fig say you seemed to have an aptitude for these spells?”

“Hell yeah he did,” Idris said. “Did you see me fighting the armor at Gringotts? I was kicking metal butt.” 

“Well as long as you’re humble about it.”

“Maybe we’ll fight a dragon and you’ll get bit again.”

“Shut up Idris.” 

Idris was still laughing as they entered the classroom, only to curse as they jumped to the left to avoid a purple spell that nearly hit them. 

“Oh great, this guy,” Idris rolled their eyes.

The Gryffindor boy Idris had gotten paired up with in charms was trading spells and shields with a Slytherin with shaggy brown hair and covered in freckles. 

“What did he do to you?” Percival questioned. 

“His name’s Leander Prewett,” Idris rolled their eyes and crossed their arms. “An arrogant prick if you ask me.”

“Is that all you’ve got?” The Slytherin taunted Leander. “ Bombarda !”

Leander threw up a shield just in time to deflect the spell, but unfortunately for him it went straight up, knocking off the head of a giant dragon skeleton suspended from the ceiling. Leander ducked and covered his head with his arms but at the last second they heard a cry of “ Levioso!” and the skull stopped in mid air, hovering just a few centimeters above Leander’s head.

“Professor Hecat!” A girl exclaimed.

“Perhaps you’d be good enough to blast each other to pieces on your own time,” Hecat scolded them. “I get new students every year but I only have one Hebridean Black skull. It was a token from the Great Poacher Raid of 1878. No doubt you’ve heard of it.”

Professor Hecat lifted her wand and the skull floated up back into place.

“Now, you may be asking yourself how an old woman like me single-handedly took out the largest poacher ring in eastern Wales and lived to boast about it,” Hecat said. “Knowledge.”

“To the wise, age matters very little,” Hecat continued. “Today we will review a spell that has saved me from death at the hands of Dark wizards more times than I can remember: Levioso .”

“ Levioso ?” Leander scoffed. “A levitation charm?”

Hecat whipped around and casted that exact charm on Leander, making him fly into the air and hover, barely able to hold onto his bearings. 

“A surprised opponent is a weak opponent,” Hecat said. “Care to defend yourself, master Prewett? No?

“Oh this is the best class ever,” Idris decided and Percival snickered as a crowd formed around Hecat. They’d ended up next to the Slytherin boy Leander had been dueling with and he snickered at Idris’s comment too. 

“One thing I’ve learned as an Unspeakable is the value of simplicity,” Hecat explained as she lowered Leander back down. “Especially in the heat of battle. Now, let’s practice what we’ve just learned, starting with something small. Mx. Valley, join me please.”

Idris approached Hecat who summoned a wooden dummy to stand in front of them. She conjured a shield charm around it but rather than the normal purple it was a golden yellow. She had Idris try a basic cast which was immediately deflected and almost hit poor Samantha. Then she taught them Levioso and had them cast that. The charm broke the shield and Idris was able to quickly follow up Levioso with a few basic casts, knocking over the dummy and even leaving a few marks on it.

“Well done,” Professor Hecat nodded. “But the best way to practice is by dueling. We’ll start with you and Mr. Sebastian Sallow. Duellists, take your marks!”

“Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,” Sebastian, the Slytherin boy from earlier, drawled as he passed Idris and Percival considered tripping him. 

To their credit Idris just rolled their eyes and went to their mark on the floor. The floor immediately rose, leaving a platform they could try to knock each other off of. 

“Now I want a fair duel,” Hecat warned them. “Only use Levioso , Basic Cast, and Protego . You may begin.”

As it turned out, Fig saying Idris was “proficient” in defensive magic had been an understatement. As soon as Hecat said the word both duellists Idris was casting, levitating Sebastian into the air and following it up with a burst of Basic Casts. Sebastian was clearly a gifted duellist, that much had been obvious when they first walked in. But Idris was destroying him. He didn’t even have time to cast Protego with how often Idris was throwing spells at him. It took only seconds before Sebastian was on the ground looking up at Idris with wide eyes while Idris smirked down at him.

“Thanks for the welcome, Sebastian,” Idris snickered. 

Idris climbed down from the platform and offered Sebastian a hand which he surprisingly took with a laugh. Percival was immediately at Idris’ side just in case.

“Not bad for a beginner,” Sebastian chuckled. “You give as good as you get.” 

Sebastian walked off and Professor Hecat approached them. 

“I put you on the spot and you rose to the challenge,” Hecat said appreciatively. “Points to Gryffindor.”

“Thank you, Professor Hecat,” Idris nodded. “I was just glad to finally practice these spells.”

“If what I’ve seen today is any indication, we can expect great things from you,” Hecat hummed. “I demand excellence from my students. They are capable of it and they must achieve it. A classroom duel is one thing, but battling dark wizards—or, as ever more likely, goblins—is a different kettle of Grindylows entirely.”

“I can assure you we have no intention of finding Dark wizards,” Percival promised. “But we understand all the same.”

“So, I’d advise you to keep practicing whenever you can,” Hecat suggested. “Perhaps Mr. Sallow will have some ideas for you. Again, well done today. I shall reach out soon with additional assignments.”

Hecat dismissed class and as the twins prepared to leave Sebastian stopped them.

“Nice work,” Sebastian said.

“Thank you,” Idris replied. “I enjoyed that.”

“That duel was quite something,” Sebastian agreed. “Everyone’ll be talking about it.”

“It was certainly good practice,” Idris said. 

“Practice?” Sebastian raised his eyebrows. “It felt more like I was dueling an expert. Didn’t expect a new student to be so deft with a wand. Then again, perhaps this wasn’t your first duel.”

“In fact it was,” Idris replied, which Percival supposed technically wasn’t a lie. They’d certainly fought with their wand before but not another wizard.

“Perhaps you have a knack for it,” Percival shrugged.

“Be coy if you like, but I know better,” Sebastian smirked. “Magic requires intention and talent. You know, you might be a perfect fit for a certain exclusive, unsanctioned dueling organization.”

“Exclusive and unsanctioned?” Idris grinned. “Count me in.”

Percival sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Excellent, I knew I was right about you,” Sebastian said. “If you want to get the most out of your time at Hogwarts, you’re going to need to break the rules now and then.”

“Oh I know,” Idris snickered and narrowed their eyes at Percival who just rolled his eyes again. “I’ll keep that in mind though thank you.”

“Good,” Sebastian nodded. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

Sebastian left and Percival kicked Idris in the shin.

“A secret dueling club? Really Dris?” Percival sighed. 

“If you don’t like it you don’t have to come,” Idris huffed and stuck their tongue out at him. “Now come on, we're supposed to meet Professor Weasley. I’m way too excited to see Hogsmeade.”

Everyone lets please give a warm welcome to Garreth "Bisexual Disaster" Weasley

Fun fact I have pretty much lost my sense of smell, it happened when I was around tenish. As such I have trouble remembering and describing smells so please drop headcanons of what smells could be associated with Garreth, I'm trying to write an amortentia fic over here

Because he's just such a cutie...enjoy!

Breathless

Farmer!Garreth x F!MC

8.6k words. Tags: NSFW / smut / loads of fluff / breeding kink unlocked / flirting / sexual tension

The sun was warm on his back as Garreth sat down on a log, pulled a small tin from his cloth bag, and opened it. He lifted out his sandwich and took a large bite, crumbs sprinkling over his lap that he brushed away with a grubby hand. A curious nose snuffled at his thigh, investigating the crumbs in case a piece of ham had fallen out too. Garreth smirked and scratched his beloved dog behind the ear and spoke around a mouthful of bread and ham. 

“None for you, mate,” he said affectionately. “I'm starving after hauling all those hay bales this morning. This is all mine.” 

Big, brown eyes looked up at him hopefully, and Garreth patted the spaniel on the head, his fingers soothing the silken fur as he took another bite of his sandwich. But Rusty had other ideas. His ears perked up, and he stood, tail wagging happily before he took off down the trail, barking excitedly. 

“Rusty!” 

Garreth saw who Rusty was running for, and his heart began to beat a bit faster behind his ribs. He chewed faster, swallowing a huge chunk of sandwich as he brushed the crumbs from his mouth and legs. 

It was her. 

Childhood friend, expert tormentor, and utterly beautiful. MC was a girl who lived in the village, about a mile from the Weasley farm, and Garreth couldn't imagine life without her. She came nearly every day to help out with the animals and chat with Ma. Her own mother passed away when she was a child, and she had become an honorary Weasley, always around the farm or in the house with the boys as they grew up.

She was a Muggle, through and through, but she knew about their magic. She kept their secret, delighted with their magical abilities but loyal to the bone when it came to their talents. Her only regret had been when he and his siblings had all gone off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. MC had missed them terribly, but being here at the farm had kept her busy. 

It was no trouble for Garreth to admit that coming home for school holidays had meant coming home to her. He didn't care that his brothers teased him about it, poking fun about his little crush on her. Garreth didn't care. He'd tell anyone. MC had always been the prettiest girl he knew, and he'd hex anyone who dared say otherwise. As adults, his feelings hadn’t changed. In fact, they had merely grown stronger.

“You're a bit late today, aren't you?” He called out to her, grinning as Rusty bounced around her legs, tail wagging. 

MC was making a fuss of the dog, laughing at his little leaps as she headed closer towards Garreth, her braided hair over one shoulder with loose strands teasing on the breeze around her face. 

“Keeping an eye on my timing now, Garreth?” She asked, eyes glinting with mischief as she eyed him sitting on the log. “You weren't waiting for me, were you?” 

“Of course,” he smiled charmingly. “You know I'll always wait for you.”

A pretty blush stained her cheeks, and she bent to make a fuss of Rusty. “Maybe next time I should make you wait a little longer, keep you in suspense.” 

Garreth slapped a hand over his heart and sighed dramatically. “Don't be cruel, MC. It's the highlight of Rusty's day greeting you with a happy, wagging tail. How could you do it to him? Look how pleased he is now that you're here! You should come earlier so he gets to have longer with you before you have to return.” 

She lifted her gaze to his, her blush deepening into a glorious red as her gorgeous eyes narrowed. “Don't use Rusty as a tool to flirt with me, Garreth Weasley. Rusty is innocent and such a good boy.” 

“Hey, I'm a good boy, too,” Garreth said. He held out his tin. “I'll even share my sandwich with you to prove it.” 

Ignoring the hopeful gaze of his beloved dog, who he'd just told that his lunch was off limits, Garreth held the tin up as MC took a peek at his sandwich. 

“Maybe just a little bite,” she said, lifting the sandwich from the tin. 

As she sat on the log beside him, Rusty still trying to get her attention at their feet, Garreth gave her a warm smile. She smiled back around the sandwich, nudging her shoulder against his as she took a delicate bite. 

“Don't look at me like that,” she said, holding her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed.

“Like what?” He lifted an eyebrow playfully. 

“You know very well what I mean.” She was blushing again. He did love it when he made her blush. 

“I've told you before,” he said, reaching to take hold of the end of her braid, the silken strands of her hair curling perfectly around his fingertips. “I will never stop looking at you like that, not even after you turn old and grey. My eyes were made to look at you that way, MC.” 

She shook her head, and his smile only widened as he tugged teasingly at her braid until she was leaning towards him. He met her gaze and brushed his fingers lightly under her chin. 

“I am going to marry you one day, MC,” he said confidently. “And then you won't need to hike the mile long trail here to see Rusty everyday, you can live here at the farm. With me.” 

“You've been saying you're going to marry me since we were ten, Garreth,” she said, taking another bite of his sandwich. “Over ten years of just assuming I'll be your wife. That's not a proposal.” 

He smiled and let her go, picking up his share of his half eaten sandwich. “You will, MC. I'm going to marry you, and we'll have loads of ginger babies together. You'll see.” 

She laughed and gave him a shove. “What if someone else asks me first? I'm an eligible catch, I'll have you know. My father is a respectable shopkeeper, and I can cook and sew, too.” 

“Like who?” He asked, sitting up straighter. 

“Mr Turner from the post office hinted about escorting me to the summer barn dance. Maybe he will get down on one knee and ask me to be his bride.”

Garreth screwed his nose up. “Seriously? Tight arsed Turner? You've got to be joking. The bloke is so stiff he squeaks when he walks! What kind of lover would he be between the sheets?”

“Garreth!” She gasped, her hands flying to her face as even her neck flushed scarlet. “That's hardly appropriate conversation material.”

Garreth’s green eyes flashed mischievously as he looked at her, imagining how soft her skin would feel under his palms, how delicious those lips would feel against his own. 

“Don't tell me you haven't thought about it,” he said softly, his voice low and raw in his throat.

Their gazes locked, and he could see the way her breaths had quickened, her chest rising and falling quickly under her blouse. “You are a free spirited young woman with fire in her soul. You're going to want a man who can leave you utterly breathless, a man who knows what he has in his arms when he holds you.”

Her eyes widened, her pupils dark and flickering with something that lifted the hope in his heart. “And you think you are the man fit for that challenge, do you?” 

He smiled, confident and cheeky. “Come to the summer dance with me and find out.” 

“Are you asking me to be your date, Garreth Weasley?” 

“I am, and you can't say no either,” he said.

It was her turn to lift an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?” 

“Absolutely. Rusty would be completely heartbroken if you turned me down, and you wouldn't want that now, would you?” 

As if on cue, and totally planned, Rusty leant his head against her thigh, looking up at her with those beautiful, brown eyes. 

“See?” Garreth scratched behind Rusty's ear again, his arm brushing against the warmth of her thigh. 

He had made no secret of it. He wanted her. But, his silly teasing and playful flirting always seemed to be nothing more than banter between them. He wanted the real thing. He'd marry her tomorrow if she would have him. 

MC glanced down at Rusty, stroking his soft fur before looking at Garreth. “Alright, you've got yourself a date to the summer dance,” she said, then held up a finger as his mouth split into a wide grin. “But, it needs to be a proper date. No silly jokes, and you definitely need to wear something smart. You can pick me up and escort me like a proper suitor.”

“I wouldn't dare expect anything less,” he said, his heart soaring. 

….*....

Her arm was linked through his as they walked through the village, the sunset a glorious blend of pinks and gold across the sky, the hues reflected in the sparkle of her eyes. MC looked like an absolute dream in her pale blue dress, her hair pinned back from her face, with a waterfall of curling locks tumbling down her back. His chest swelled with pride that she was on his arm, and he couldn't wait to escort her to the dance. 

They paused near the gated entrance of the old manor house, the sounds of music drifting across from the barn. Garreth patted a hand to his chest nervously. “So, will I do?”

He'd taken great care in bathing and attempting to tame his fiery locks, dressed in his best trousers and boots, his white shirt impeccably clean against the moss green of his waistcoat. He had even adorned his outfit with a plaid dickie bow, and he was sure he looked the part, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

Her eyes took in his clothes, a smile teasing her lips. When she met his gaze, he felt the familiar warmth in his chest that came from just being in her presence. 

“You look very smart,” she said, her fingers smoothing down the front of his waistcoat, making his cheeks warm. “Consider me impressed.” 

“I should hope so,” he grinned. “I've got to look the part, escorting the prettiest girl in the village. That Mr Turner best be keeping his distance, that's all I will say.” 

Enjoying the sound of her chuckle, they entered the barn to be greeted by the lively music coming from the band at the far end. Bales of straw had been set out for seating, along with wooden plank tables, ribbons, and colourful bunting, adding cheer to the space. Dancers were already twirling on the dance floor, but Garreth led MC towards a makeshift bar area and got them two mugs of ale. Taking a sip, he licked his lips, and a crease appeared on his brow.

“It’s no Butterbeer, but it will do,” he smirked. “I shall have to take you on a date to Hogsmeade, or even Diagon Alley in London, and show you some wizarding hospitality.”

MC lifted an eyebrow as she sipped at her beer. “You are fairly confident of a second date, then?”

Drawing on all his Gryffindor bravery, he lifted a hand up to her face, his thumb grazing gently along her cheekbone. “My plan is to sweep you off your feet, and take you on many, many more dates after this.”

Her blush was instant, and she couldn’t look any more beautiful. He could kiss her right now, but he held back, assuming the role of gentleman as they finished up their drinks and he led her out to the dancefloor. 

Not one for fancy airs and graces, he felt a flutter of insecurity at first as they joined the other couples moving about the floor. He was a more practical man, used to using his hands for more physical tasks, his feet more inclined to be in work boots planted firmly in mud. Once he had his hand on her waist, though, the rest just seemed to flow instantly, his gaze transfixed on only her as they began to sway along to the beat. Her smile was for him, and it felt all together too marvellous to be holding her close like this. 

After a few more dances, his pulse racing and his face hot, Garreth was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. The lively steps were making them work up a sweat, but it was great fun, and he was sure to keep a firm hold on her as the songs ended and another began lest anyone had ideas about cutting in and stealing her away. As they skipped and twirled, her hair fanned out around her, the skirt of her dress billowing against his legs. Holding her gaze as he pulled her in close again, he splayed his hand at the small of her back, the ridges of her corset under her dress pressed against his palm. He felt the fire in his blood and didn’t even try to hold it back from his eyes.

Her mouth was parted as she breathed hard through the dance. The pink of her cheeks and the spark in her eyes felt heightened as they held the look between them. This was a different kind of magic, as old as time itself, and she was the only one who made him feel it. He cared little for the snobbish views regarding blood purity. She may be a Muggle born, but she had the power to charm him. The words in his heart danced and swirled along with him, threatening to escape and spill from his lips. Every thud of life in his body was all for her.

If he pressed his fingertips to the pulse at her throat, would it throb and flutter as hard and fast as his did right now. Could she feel the maddening rush of desire that warmed his blood as a match in her own veins?

For years, he had loved her with his eyes, in the gentle teasing and bold suggestions. His playful demands that he would marry her one day were honest truths, a reality he yearned for, and maybe, just maybe, he would be bold enough to make it a serious declaration. How do you make it special, though? She had hinted at wanting a proper proposal, and he knew it was tradition to place oneself on one knee and present a ring. Not normally one for stiff formality, he wondered if perhaps something a little different might be in order, but nothing too over the top lest it make her decline.

“Shall we get some more drinks?” She asked breathlessly, her fingers holding on tightly to his shoulder. Her flush had darkened, her eyes dipping to his mouth and then back to his eyes as though her heated blood really did answer in kind. “I’m feeling rather parched.”

Blinking away his grand ideas of making her his wife, Garreth nodded, his mouth slipping easily into a warm smile as he slowed their steps. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said with a bow over her hand.

“Such courtly behaviour, Garreth,” she chuckled, her eyes dancing as he straightened. “Who are you, really, and what have you done with the real Garreth?”

“I’m offended!” He said with a little cry of mocking disbelief. “I am the epitome of gentlemanly behaviour at all times.”

She leant in closer, her arm linked through his, the softness of her against him making his blood heat to new levels. As she tilted her head to speak nearer to his ear, he felt his throat close against the mad flutter in his chest. “Does a gentleman hint at what he can do to a free spirited woman once he has her in his arms? I believe you mentioned such things as leaving her breathless?”

Eyes widening in surprise, he turned his head to meet her gaze, their faces achingly close, tempting him even further to dare risking a taste. “You remembered what I said,” he murmured. 

“Every word,” she breathed, her eyes darkening. He could have sworn she moved closer, his tongue sliding to wet his lower lip at the promise of claiming the softness of her plush mouth.

“I meant it, you know,” he said softly, his gaze devouring her face with utter devotion. “I know exactly what I would be holding in my arms, and I would endeavour to show you just how much that would mean, leaving you completely breathless in the process.”

Her smirk was devilishly naughty, the spark in her eyes spellbinding. “Would you like to deflower me, Garreth Weasley?”

His teeth caught at his lower lip, sinking down into the soft flesh at the images those words presented to him, barely swallowing back the desperate whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Barely even registering that they were standing in a barn full of their fellow villagers making merry, his hand tightened at her waist as his eyes burned into hers.

“In the most gentlemanly way possible, I would very much like to ravish you,” he said, his voice thick with loaded desire.

Their gazes locked in a blistering promise of a passion unmet, Garreth heard his heart thundering in his ears. This was more than bodily urges. This was soul defining, surely. Poets wrote about this kind of feeling, and whilst he was certain he could never put it all into words, with his very hands, he would make every endeavour to show her. 

“Garreth!” A sharp tug on his sleeve joined the urgent bark of his name, jarring Garreth from the moment, his eyes blinking in dazed surprise as he turned to see his youngest brother beside him. “Bloody hell, Garreth. I've been calling your name across the room. Are you deaf?” 

“What?” Garreth frowned, trying to comprehend why his brother was here, his shirt almost as filthy as his face, his ginger mop of hair wild with a leaf caught in the curls. “What in Merlin's name are you doing here, Hector?”

Hector turned his gaze towards MC, his lips twitching into a cheeky smirk. “Alright, MC? You're looking delectably pretty this evening.” 

“Leave it out, you little rascal,” Garreth said, rolling his eyes and giving Hector his full attention. “What are you doing here? You look like you've crawled through a hedge backwards.”

“That's because I have,” Hector said, his cheeky smirk still in place. “That's why I'm here. Ma has got her wand in a right ole knot. The baby goats escaped, and they ransacked her vegetable patch. She cast out a hex or two, and now one of them has got pink fur.” 

Garreth’s eyes widened. “She did what? Godric’s balls.” 

He groaned and put a hand to his head. Those mischievous little goats had been the bane of his existence since their birth, escaping and chewing their way through all sorts. If he didn't have such a massive soft spot for them, he would have jinxed them all himself by now. 

“Did you manage to catch them all?” MC asked, a worried crease appearing in her brow. She, too, had been on the receiving end of the little scamps during her times helping out at the farm. 

Hector shook his head. “Nope, there's still three on the loose, so I thought I'd better fetch you, Garreth. They like you. One of those little bastards bit me on the finger, so it did.” 

“Oi, language,” Garreth scolded, holding a stern finger up. “There are ladies present.” 

At Hector's rueful smirk, he got hold of his arm with the intent of marching his rapscallion of a brother out of the barn. Glancing at MC, he caught her amused look and shook his head, fighting back his own grin. 

“I'm so sorry,” he said, his hand catching hold of hers. “This is going to spoil the evening. I need to go back and help round up these baby goats.” 

“And I am coming with you,” she said firmly, grasping his hand and delicately lifting the hem of her skirts. “It sounds like you're going to need my help.” 

In the seconds he had spare to stare at her before they all began to head for the door, he was reminded yet again at how fiercely his heart beat for her. 

….*....

With his wand between his teeth, the glow of his Lumos spell illuminating his face and the ground before him, Garreth launched forwards and wrapped his hands around the middle of the baby goat munching on one of his mother's rose bushes. The goat bleated in protest, and Rusty the dog came scampering over, tail wagging excitedly. 

“Gotcha, you little rascal,” Garreth mumbled around the wood of his wand, tucking the little goat under his arm as he turned towards the barn. 

The goat was trying to nibble his now wonky bow tie, his curls a ruffled mess from the searching in bushes. The evening had not turned out how he had been expecting. Visions of romantic dancing and maybe even a cheeky kiss were fading from his thoughts as he entered the lamp lit barn. 

MC was at the goat pen in the far corner, bending over the now mended fencing as she made a fuss of the mother goat. He could hear the soft murmur of her voice as she scratched under the chin of the beast, seemingly uncaring about the smears of dirt on the skirts of her pretty dress and the mud on her shoes. She had not been afraid to chase after the escaped kids in her fine clothing, traipsing through mud and greenery in her attempts to retrieve them. 

“I've got another one,” Garreth said, returning his wand to his pocket as he lifted a very wriggly kid over the fence. 

“One more to go, then,” MC said with a sigh. She moved closer and reached out for his hand. “Come on, let's go catch her together.” 

“Her?” Garreth asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

“Yes, it's Blossom that's missing. The one with the patch on her tummy that looks like a heart,” MC said, holding tight to his hand as they walked back out into the dark of the yard. 

“You've named them?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You do know they are to be sold soon, don't you?” 

“They still need names, Garreth,” she insisted with a smile. “How can they not have names when they have such funny, little personalities.” 

He paused in his step to look at her, a soft look on his face. “Considering how these little personalities have wrecked our plans for the evening, you are being rather affectionate towards them.” 

Her smile shifted into something rather playful as she stepped even closer, her free hand lifting to adjust his bow tie. “We only have one more naughty kid to catch, Garreth,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet with his. “And the night isn't over yet.” 

A little flutter erupted in his tummy, warm and pleasing as his mouth tilted upwards into a grin. “That sounds promising.” 

The bleating of the remaining escaped goat sounded across the yard, coming from where the old stables stood against a backdrop of trees. Once again, a mischievous goat was determined to interrupt any moment that had the potential to turn interesting with MC.

Turning to try and catch a glimpse of Blossom was rather pointless in the dark, and Garreth slipped his wand from his pocket again. This was the last goat to catch, and then he could have MC all to himself.

“Hold that promising thought of yours,” he smirked and held up his wand. “Lumos!” 

Still holding hands, they crept swiftly across the yard, the light from his wand illuminating the darkness and pressing back the shadows as they approached the stables, their feet squelching in the mud. Rusty was already snuffling ahead of them, nose down and tail up until he caught a scent. With an excited bark, he was off, scampering around the corner of the old, brick building, and the little goat came bounding out of the darkness. 

“There you are, Blossom!” MC said, holding out a hand. Blossom had other ideas, though, and skipped sideways in a move that was almost like a dance. “Oh, you little rascal!” 

MC lunged to catch her, missed, and slid on the mud. Her startled cry pierced the night as she grabbed at Garreth, catching his arm so forcefully that he was yanked forward in a sudden lurch. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the arc of light as his wand arm swung, his booted feet sliding out from under him. In his efforts to be a gentleman and keep MC upright, he took the fall, hitting the sticky mud with a splat. 

“Oof!” 

“My goodness, are you alright?” MC said, holding her hands to her mouth as she looked down at him, Rusty bouncing eagerly forward and shoving his wet nose right into Garreth’s face. 

Somehow, Garreth had managed to keep his wand arm up in the air, his spell still lit at the tip. His other hand was buried in the mud, his face a grimace of disgust as he shifted into a sitting position. 

“I'm alright. Easy, boy, easy,” he said, attempting to calm Rusty, who thought this was an impromptu play session. 

It was at this point that Blossom the baby goat decided to take a flying leap into the air in all the excitement, and she jumped right onto Garreth’s broad shoulders, head butting him in the process. His grunt of pain at the smack of her hooves and head was lost in the bellow of laughter that erupted from MC's mouth. She was bent over with it, her eyes sparkling in the light from his wand as he struggled to get Blossom down into his lap with one arm. 

“Oi, don't laugh! A little help here?” He muttered through a smirk, slipping in the mud as he tried to keep hold of Blossom and keep his wand aloft. 

“Of course…I'm s-sorry,” MC gasped around her chuckles, holding out her arms to take little Blossom. “Here, let me…” 

Scooping an excitable Blossom into her arms, coating her dress in fresh smears of mud, MC quietened her chuckles as Garreth got to his feet. He tried to shake the mud from his hand, his eyes roaming over his ruined shirt and trousers. 

“Well, there goes my nice, smart shirt. Bloody hell, I can't go back to the dance looking like this,” he grumbled, his gaze moving to MC. “And look at your lovely dress.” 

“Could you use one of your fancy spells to make it all better?” She asked. 

He could. In fact, he knew just the spell, and she had always been so delighted with the magic that he could do. It had always been his pleasure and a wonderful excuse to keep her near him, to show her the spells he could do. Transfiguration objects would make her clap her hands excitedly, bringing him objects to switch up into something new. The best one was charming magical delights to impress her like little birds or butterflies. It was worth it just to see that glow of wonder in her eyes, her awe, and praise for him, making his chest swell and his dreams would fill with hope. 

Standing there in the mud with her, watching her make a fuss over the naughty goat, he realised that he didn't need to make all the mud disappear. None of this bothered her. Not the escaped goats putting a stop to their dance, not the running around in the dark trying to catch them, and definitely not the mud marking her skirts. She loved this place almost as much as he did. It was home, and this was where they belonged. She had to feel it, too.

“You look beautiful even when you're covered in mud, MC,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “I'd even go so far as to say you are especially beautiful when you're all grubby and getting stuck in with the work around here. We are lucky to have you.” 

Her smile was particularly lovely as she petted Blossom on the head, the goat trying to nibble on the lace at the front of her dress, and he was certain that she was blushing. Instead of a cheeky come back as she was wont to do, her words were soft, her eyes full of a deeper meaning. “I love it here, Garreth. I always have. I'm happy to be able to help out.” 

She loved it here. Surely, it was meant to be.

“Let's get Blossom back to her family,” he said with a chuffed smile, nodding towards the barn, that warm feeling spreading behind his chest at her words. “And like you said, the night isn't over yet.” 

….*....

With the goats all now safely in their pen, Garreth stood with his hands in his pockets and a rueful smile on his face as MC approached him under the flickering lamp of the barn. She smirked as she attempted to straighten his dickie bow again, her gaze taking in the mud staining his shirt and waistcoat. 

“Oh, Garreth, you even have little hoofprints on your shoulder,” she chuckled, brushing against it with her fingertips. 

“All part of the farm life,” he said, tilting his head as he gazed upon her. “I'm just sorry it ruined the summer dance for you. I'm sure if Mr Turner had escorted you, there would have been no goat drama, and you would likely still be dancing right now.” 

A flutter of insecurity began to tap dance behind his ribs. MC was a rare one, and he did not blame other gentlemen for their interest in her hand. Despite knowing her since they were young children, this did not place any right or claim on her, no matter how he longed for it. He was cheeky and flirty. He made bold statements about her being his wife one day, but her heart was her own to give. 

He was just a farm boy with a gift for magical spells and the odd calamity. Was he enough for her? 

As she stared up at him, the glow of the lamp reflecting in her pretty eyes, he searched for the disappointment in her gaze but found only warmth. 

“I'd rather be here with you in the mud and chaos, than dancing with a man who doesn't understand me,” she said softly. Her face moved subtly closer, her hand still resting on his shoulder. “What you said to me the other day about needing someone who knew what they had when they held you. You were right. Mr Turner may be polite, and he is most gracious when he speaks to me, but his eyes do not hold the power that makes me forget how to breathe.” 

The pace of Garreth’s heartbeat began to pick up, a hand leaving his pocket to reach for her waist. Her warmth came even closer at the urging of his touch. “Tell me more about such eyes,” he murmured, swallowing thickly against the desire building within. 

“Eyes like a forest in spring,” she said, her fingers moving to touch against his throat, her caress like fire as she slid them tentatively up towards his jaw, unravelling the edges of his control. “Eyes that make my skin come alive when they look at me, eyes filled with a fire that I am certain nobody else sees but me. I could get lost in those eyes if I wanted to, I'm sure of it.”

She was so close now, he could see the myriad of flecks in the pools of her eyes, and he figured he knew what she meant. “Do you want to get lost in them?” He asked, the underlying tension in his words as dark and smooth as honey. 

The air felt molten and ablaze between them, all his nerve endings stretched taut with the need to feel every inch of her pressed against him.

“I think I already am,” she whispered. 

Endless day dreams and hours spent picturing how it would be to kiss MC, and now that his lips were finally pressed against hers, the real thing surpassed anything his mind could have painted. Softer than he had dared believed, her mouth sealed against his in a first kiss that had his toes curling inside his muddied boots. 

It wasn't too heated, and yet his blood was ablaze, the gentle pressure just enough to show the desire behind it. The shuddering breath he managed to pull into his lungs took some of the tension from his frame as he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes seeking the comfort of her gaze. 

“Dance with me once more,” he said, his voice laden with the need of her. 

“I offer you kisses, and you want to dance?” 

Her eyes sparkled with a mischief he recognised, but Garreth merely smirked and took out his wand. In the corner near where they stood was a collection of farm tools, brooms and a rake, a shovel, that kind of thing. With a few careful wrist movements, his lips murmuring a charm learnt in a lesson taught by his Aunt Matilda, those practical and useful implements lifted up from the ground. In graceful twists and turns, imbued with the power of the magic that ran through his veins, Garreth performed the transfiguration spell to make a quartet of string instruments. 

“Garreth!” MC exclaimed, her hands coming up to her mouth as the instruments began to play a rather charming piece of music. 

Eyeing the look of wonder on her face, his smile was rather pleased as he slid a hand across her lower back and urged her closer towards him. “Not bad, hmm? If we can’t be at the dance, then we shall bring the dance to us.” 

Taking a hand and holding her more firmly, his fingers splayed at her back in a manner that suggested she was his alone. He spun them about in a smooth turn of dance. 

“Show off,” she admonished playfully, letting him lead her across the floor of the barn. 

It didn't matter that they were plastered in mud or that they were dancing in the barn with a family of goats for company beside hundreds of hay bales stacked ready for winter. He was here with her, and she was in his arms, her smiling face turned up to him with a warm glow in her eyes. 

“I may be a show off, but only for you,” he said with a wink. Swallowing down his nerves, he adjusted his grip at her waist. It was time to summon the bravery his school house was known for. “Anything for the girl I love.” 

He heard the swift intake of her breath, her feet stilling amongst the loose straw strands scattered across the floor. The music played on as they stood and stared at each other, a hot blush blooming across his cheeks. 

“Do you mean that, Garreth?” Her voice was breathless, her eyes wide. “You love me?” 

“I do,” he nodded, his throat closing up with emotion. “I love you.” 

Her gaze dipped to his chest, her eyes shifting from side to side, a kaleidoscope of emotions dancing across her features. Panic took wing within him, his fingers gripping tightly at the back of her dress. Had he spoken out of turn? Was it too much? Perhaps he had read the look in her eyes all wrong. 

When she finally lifted her gaze back to him, the tell tale shine of unshed tears glittered in her eyes. “But…I'm just a normal girl, Garreth,” she said, shaking her head as though she didn't understand. “I don't have magic. I am one of those Muggle people in your world. Why would you want me when you could have someone who can conjure fire, or…or wonderful instruments to make music. I'm nothing special…”

“You are everything!” He declared, shifting his hands to cup her beautiful face, his heart squeezing at her fears. “You are all that I want. Nobody else could ever come close. Another girl could have all the magic in the world, and I would still choose you. Please, don't ever think that you are not good enough, MC. I love you all the way from your bonnie hair to your muddy shoes.” 

Her lips trembled, and a tear escaped, streaking down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb, caressing the softness of her skin as he felt the burn behind his own eyes. 

“I'm probably being a sentimental fool here, but it's the truth,” he said, resting his forehead against hers and taking a shaky breath. “Please, say something.” 

A broken whimper left her mouth as she wrapped her arms about him, her fingers clutching at the back of his waistcoat as she pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I love you, too,” she said, the words like a balm against his lips. 

Like a dam released, he pressed kisses to her mouth, her nose, his lips raining his affections across her cheeks until she was giggling in his arms. Hearing her speak those words made his heart skip a beat, his emotions threatening to spill over, and so he used his lips to express himself rather than make a fool of himself and speak. He feared his voice would crack, and the burn in his eyes would turn into real tears.

“Are you trying to kiss me everywhere?” She laughed, breaking through the ecstatic tension in his chest.

His eyebrows lifted with cheeky intrigue, his fingers ghosting along the lacy neckline of her dress near her collarbone. Humour and flirting were definitely more in his comfort zone. “Hmm, that depends on how literally you mean everywhere.” 

Her cheeks reddened, and she gasped, but her smile turned almost as mischievous as his own. “This sounds most improper, Garreth,” she teased. “Perhaps a hint at how a gentleman may leave a girl breathless.” 

“Oh, it's wonderfully improper. Would you like a demonstration, my lady?” 

“Garreth! Not in front of the kids.” She nodded her head towards the goat pen across the barn, her mouth tilting into a teasing smile. 

Glancing from the mischievous goats to the girl of his heart, Garreth gave her his most wicked smile. “But of course, my love,” he said, taking her hand. “Right this way.” 

Heart hammering with excited anticipation, Garreth tugged MC away from the goats as he ended the music with a flick of his wrist, leading her around the huge stacks of hay bales to a darker, more secluded part of the barn. He let her go to shift a few of the heavy bales, uncaring about dirtying clothes already ruined, until he had a suitable spot in which to render his girl breathless. Circling her within his arms again, he kissed her gently, searching her eyes for answers. “Only on your word, MC.” 

“You have it,” she nodded.

As their kisses became longer and more heated, his blood fired to a burn that made him giddy. He lifted her off her feet and placed her down on the sweet-smelling bales. Deepening the kiss, he braced himself on his elbows, trying not to crush her with his weight. Her body arched towards him, the press of her curves making him ache with such fierceness. 

“Tell me you feel this, too,” he said, his mouth devouring the tender flesh of her throat. 

“Like fire,” she gasped. 

Her cheeks were flushed, her hair pooled around her head in a tumble of glossy curls, and her skin was addictive against his tongue. His fingers worked at the fastening of her dress, pulling the sleeves from her shoulders to expose more soft flesh to explore. Her gasping, tortured breaths filled his ears as he mouthed along her collar bone, dragging the dress downwards before reaching to pull at the laces of her corset. Crossing the line from friends to lovers had been his dream, his hope, and now it was his reality.

As her nimble fingers worked on the buttons of his waistcoat, his gaze blazed a trail over her chest, confined within the corset that he was eager to be rid of. Bending down, his tongue slid delicately along the plump flesh, pushed upwards over the top of the constrictive bindings, groaning at the promise of what his hands longed to hold. But, the laces were being stubborn, his fingers tugging with an urgency that made her chuckle.

“Rather impatient, aren’t you?” She teased, cupping his face.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” he groaned, grabbing her waist with the intention of spinning her around. “Roll over, darling. I refuse to be outwitted by a corset. I have my heart set on burying myself in the delights hidden underneath, so this naughty piece of lace and bone is about to meet my barn floor.”

Her laughter brought a smirk to his face as he rolled her atop the bales, pulling the laces free until the corset loosened. He immediately slipped it from her body, discarding it so he could smooth his hands over the red indents the restrictive garment had made on her skin. She was like satin and silk, so sensual under the touch of his work-roughened hands.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, bending to press soft kisses along the length of her spine. Urging her upright, she sighed as she pressed up against his bare chest, her head falling back as he slid her hair aside to suck gently at the base of her neck. “Let me feel you,” he whispered.

Fingers teasing around her ribs, he peered over her shoulder as his hands sought out the full weight of her breasts. Divinely soft, he cupped them both, closing his eyes for a few seconds to savour the feel of her against his palms. She turned her head, her fingers delving into the thick curls of his hair. As he met her heated stare, the glaze of desire he could see there had him claiming her mouth in another hungry kiss. 

Emboldened by her low moan, he let one hand drift over the softness of her stomach, caressing with a trembling touch before he dared to delve lower. Her dress was bunched about her thighs, his fingers sliding easily under the waistband of her underwear. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingertips brushed through the thatch of her hair, but she shuffled her knees further apart to allow him access.

“Are you sure?” He asked, needing to know that she wanted this as much as he did.

“Please…” 

His fingers caressed through the heated slick of her most intimate flesh, and Garreth felt his cheeks burn at her willingness, her soft moans driving him to explore her further, teasing at her entrance before sliding a finger into the silken heat that awaited. 

“Gods…” The word left his mouth in a breath of awe. She felt exquisite, and his arousal strained against the confines of his undershorts, molten fire gathering deep in his loins. 

As her hips rolled seductively against his hand, he worked to a rhythm, slowly stretching her until he could add a second finger. The tightness of her inner walls posed the idea that he might need to take care when entering himself into her. He ached for it, longed to make her his knowing he would be the first to do so, but he did not want to hurt her. For now, he concentrated his efforts on pleasing her, seeking out the tiny pearl of her pleasure.

Savouring every sound that slipped from her mouth, he whispered in her ear, pressing kisses along her jaw, and he kept a warm hand around her breast. Watching her writhe with pleasure, the skin of her throat darkening with a rosy blush as her whimpers intensified, he coaxed her ever closer to the peak. 

“Garreth…I’m close,” she panted, her fingers gripping into his hair with an eye watering grasp.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear. “Relax, give in to it. I won’t let you go.”

Groaning at the delicious pressure of her peachy backside against his arousal, he felt the quiver of her muscles, her hips bearing down as her body surrendered to the fire. He slowed his fingers, coaxing her along the crest of the wave, watching her through his lidded gaze as she climaxed in his arms. Her moans were beautiful, but nothing could be more satisfying than hearing his name whispered through her lips like some kind of prayer. Bringing her to this point gave him a sense of pride, the love he felt for her swelling behind his ribs as he shifted her around so he could hold her against him.

Burying her face into his neck, she clung to him, the heat of her laboured breaths against his skin urging him to stroke his hands up and down her back as she came back to herself. They whispered their words of love to each other, taking a moment to pause and reflect before she cupped his face in her hands. Her gaze was one of hazy bliss, cheeks flushed, and a gorgeous smile on her lips.

“You were good on your word, Garreth Weasley,” she said, her thumb sliding temptingly close to his mouth. “Consider me thoroughly breathless.”

“Oh, but I am not done yet,” he said, capturing her thumb with his lips and sucking gently. She watched him do it, her eyes darkening again, lips parted.

“Of course,” she murmured softly, her eyes lifting to stare into his. “I had always secretly hoped that you would be the one to take me for the first time. I dared to dream of it. All those times you would smile and say that I would be your wife one day, I stored those moments in my secret heart and feared that another, a beautiful and talented witch, would come and steal you away.”

“Never,” he insisted, holding her closer, pressing the warmth of her flesh even closer against his. He kissed her on the mouth, his lips lingering before speaking again. “I meant every word, you know. I may smile and tease you, but there was always truth behind those words.”

Taking her hand, he pressed it against where his heart thudded against his chest, more serious than he had ever been in his life. “Feel that? Every beat is for you. I want you to be my girl, my wife. I want you to be there when I wake up every day. Marry me, MC.”

“A thousand times, yes!” Her smile was dazzling, and she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. She didn’t even hesitate with her answer, and he squeezed her back, hardly daring to believe it.

All the grand gestures and speeches he had mulled over didn’t seem to matter, the charade of going down on one knee, the stiff formalities all forsaken. They were half naked in his barn, bits of hay stuck to them, their clothes filthy. But, it didn’t matter. This was their truth, and he had spoken with his heart, and by some miracle, she had said yes.

Capturing her mouth in a long, fierce kiss, he cupped her face, a grin appearing as his verdant eyes twinkled. “You will be my Mrs Weasley. I can’t wait to see ole ‘stiff upper lip’ Turner’s face when I call you that.”

“It’s not a competition, Garreth,” she chided gently, playing with a lock of his hair.

“Oh, but it is, my love. You are the prettiest girl in the village, and you are all mine. That makes me a winner. Just wait until I tell Rusty he is going to be so happy about this!”

MC chuckled and leaned into him, pressing her forehead to his as she bit down on her lower lip. “As much as I adore that pup of yours, he is going to have to wait. We have unfinished business to attend to.”

“We do?” Feigning innocence, he waited, watching and loving the fire igniting in her gaze. 

A breathless moan escaped his throat as her hand slid down to palm against the front of his trousers, his arousal waking from its semi-slumber at her touch. Her lips grazed against his in a teasing kiss, her eyes locked with his. Gods, she made his blood burn.

“Make me yours,” she whispered against his mouth.

Laying naked on the hay bales beneath him, her legs parted to welcome him, MC looked like perfection. His eyes blazed with his desire as he admired the soft curves, his fingers stroking against her glistening and inviting entrance as he prepared her for him. Taking his time to savour the intimacy and to ensure her comfort, Garreth pressed himself into her slick heat, biting his lip against his urgent need. So tight and hot, she squeezed around him, his cock throbbing as he slid deeper.

At her wince, he paused, but her fingers bit into his hips, urging him to push. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, glancing down to where they were joined. 

Moving slowly at first, the pleasure began to build until his eyes became glazed, liquid fire pooling with blissful ecstasy at the base of his spine. Her little hands clung to him, her grip fierce and hungry, her head thrown back, and lips parted as she moaned beneath him. He couldn’t get enough. It was erotic and sensual. It was blowing his mind. The feel of her was driving him insane and his climax was imminent. 

Looking down at where he thrust into her, watching as he filled her over and over, his hips snapped harder. The slap of their flesh punctuated his rhythm, the harshness of his breaths becoming cries of ecstasy as the heat exploded in his lower back, his hips slamming forward until he was fully sheathed within her tight heat. Eyes closed as the pulsing wave of his orgasm overcame him, he shuddered as thick spurts of release spilt deep inside of her. Behind his eyelids, the erotic image of MC’s flushed and naked body seared through his thoughts.

As the wave of his orgasm began to ebb, he gently rolled his hips, grinding against her as though pressing his seed even deeper inside. They were not married yet, but he did not regret filling her up. In fact, it was incredibly arousing to think of it. Gasping air into his lungs, he opened his eyes as he felt her hands urging him closer. Her smile was soft, her fingers gentle as she smoothed his hair back from his sweat slicked forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered, her mouth pressing delicate kisses on his flushed face. 

A subtle movement of her hips made him moan softly, the sensitivity of her walls flexing around his very happy cock sending shivers up his spine. Seeking out her mouth for a kiss filled with longing, he realised that it was possible to fall in love even deeper than before. Staring into those eyes, he had certainly got lost in them, lost in her, and now she would be his forever.

Their future lay ahead, living here on the family farm where they could raise their children. Perhaps they would be magical, like him, and they would go to Hogwarts. Even if they weren’t, and they were like their mother, he wouldn’t mind. They would be Weasleys, they would be loved, and that was a wonderful and beautiful thought.

♡ WHEN GARRETH HAS A CRUSH ON YOU♡

- peak golden retriever energy right here

- has enormous, gigantic and totally fat crush on you

- it’s just who he is, gives 100% or nothing at all

- so, you'll be properly courted by him

- and believe me, the entire castle will know about this

- it’s so obvious it's almost painful

- because he’s not hiding his feelings at all

- he genuinely likes you!

- although he can be little shy around you sometimes…

- smiles at you frequently

- eloquent

- flirty boy

- and funny at that

- makes you laugh a lot

- sometimes intentionally and sometimes not

- gives the most remarkable complements ever

- the ones you won't forget, as they are either very touching or downright weird

- admires your cleverness

- writes about you in his diary

- drawing hearts here and there while doing so #cheesy

- because I feel that at heart he’s a hopeless romantic

- always has time for you (despite his full schedule!)

- if he could he wouldn’t leave your side

- like ever

- he’s clingy

- he would want you to do everything with him

- always mentioning you in his plans

- including you in all of his experiments

- saving you seat in a class always

- makes complicated potions just for you

- even if you don’t ask him to

- he’s up to everything if it’s for you and with you He'll go on every adventure with you

- he'll go on every adventure with you

- first kiss comes somehow naturally along the way

- at first he may be a little bit clumsy, but later on he’s just more and more confident (and excited!!)

- after that you are basically like a couple

- because when he sees you give him the green light, he's all over you

- he wants to hold your hand all the time

- sometimes he’s looking at you with those dreamy eyes, gleeful smile on his face

- and it’s just so sweet!!!!

- he’s always making your day better

- it’s his superpower

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 you can find more of my works about hogwarts legacy ♡here♡