[ A LITTLE DEATH — FT. KINICH ]

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

As the case came to a close one of the Suzuya squad members abruptly spoke up, "By the way, I thought the Q's squad had five members?"

"Oh, the other two are..." Reina rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, knowing that Shirazu most likely gave up trying to wake up the blue sloth.

The other two—Mutsuki and Urie—beside her murmured quietly. "I wonder if he couldn't wake up Saiko.."

"Can't be helped, but it doesn't reflect well on Q's squad."

Mutsuki looked at the vacant seat across from him, "their squad leader isn't here yet either." He noted to the boy next to him.

And just on time the short male sprinted through the door making quite the entrance.

"Sorry I'm late!" He marched on in as his squad rose to greet him, a rush of good mornings flooded the room.

Once introductions were set, Suzuya turned to the two instructors and greeted them with open arms—but instead of a hug, Suzuya instead began to pat the taller man down. Handful after handful of candy piling up in the palms of his hands—stuffing them into his own pockets for later. He then turned to the girl and stuck his hands out expecting her to pull out another handful of treats just for him.

"You know candy'll give you cavities Juuzou." She said as she handed the small handful to him.

"This is less than last time." He pouted as he counted each piece.

"Did you not hear what I just said? Haise gave you enough as it is." She quirked a brow at him.

He smiled at her and popped the lollipop she gave him into his mouth before turning to Abara.

"Sir, the meeting has concluded.." the taller man noted.

"Then gimme the short version. But before you do-"

"I'm sorry... we're late!!" A loud voice echoed throughout the room and small snores could be heard from behind the man.

"Shirazu?!"

"Im impressed. Maybe putting Shirazu in charge was a good idea, Haise." She smiled at the younger boy as he blushed at the compliment, behind him Saiko seemed to have been half awake, mumbling incoherent words.

"I met them in front of the elevator.. give me the rundown once they're seated, please." Juuzou finished his sentence as Abara nodded at his word.

"Sorry Sassan, Nana.. we're so late.." he frowned.

"I-it's alright. Thanks for bringing her here... you did great!!" Haise smiled awkwardly trying to calm the panting boy.

"Stop acting like you did something bad," Reina rolled her eyes at the dramatic boy, "just be proud about the fact that you were able to bring her here. Give her to me, just sit." She extended her arms out and reached out to grab the drooling girl on his back.

She carried her to an empty seat and tried to wake her up.

"C'mon Saiko, you're here already might as well try and be present for the meeting, yeah?" She cupped the girl's chubby cheeks. Instead the girl just kept nodding off, a string of drool dropping onto the older girls arm.

Instead of getting grossed out by the wet feeling she just brushed it off and continued shaking the sleepy girl awake. "Saiko... if you try your best throughout this mission I'll buy you that new DLC you've been wanting." She bribed.

How the girl caught her words, she'll never know, but they seemed to work as the weariness was slowly washing off of her and a sudden consciousness came to front for a bit.

"You promise?" Her raspy voice called out quietly.

"Have I ever broken a promise, Saiko?"

"Nuh-uh."

"So you promise?"

"Pinky promise?"

"Alright, pinky promise." Both girls intertwined their fingers together swearing not to break this vow, not wanting to disappoint the other as it'd give them something valuable in return.

A significant gift from the girl she looks up to, and a better relationship with the girl she wants to protect the world from.

A ghoul who consumed only genitals from the opposite sex wasn't uncommon to hear, but was pretty unsettling to hear the least. As her name suggested, she only ate testicles—and her traces were rather odd.

Cases of human trafficking in ghoul society wasn't uncommon at all. After all that's how the Gourmet's eat after all—and ghoul restaurants were still as popular as ever, but that may just be considered kidnapping and homicide.

"Well..?" Haise muttered into hi in-earpiece.

Seated at the designated restaurant, the Quinx squad was separated by tables. A group of three by the back of the restaurant and one closer to where The Nutcracker and her accomplice were seated, those being Mutsuki, Shirazu, and Saiko.

Haise, Reina and Urie situated farther away guiding the rest of the squad from afar. So far they were able to barely get anything in either of them.

"It's no good. My ears aren't up to par today." Shirazu scolded himself growing increasingly frustrated at his incompetence during an important point of their main mission.

Turning to the small blue haired girl, Shirazu nudged her and asked if she could hear anything, but all that came out was her describing the sound of the meat grilling in the kitchen. Unable to hold back his frustration he took it out in the girl and whacked her on the head while cursing her out.

Sighing, Reina looked up from her phone and turned to the other two boys beside her and noticed that they were equally as stressed, though Urie was hiding it a lot better than Haise. Speaking of the boy, he looked to be lost in thought until Shirazu spoke into the earpiece.

"What do we do? S-should we move closer?"

"No. Knowing that when ghouls are out they're already hyper aware of their surroundings. They'll just get more suspicious of us. Plus, you guys look so out of place." She scrolled on her phone and mumbled the last part more so to herself, but Urie happened to overhear her but decided not to comment.

"Shit, I can almost hear them too-" Shirazu's arm pushed his cup over the edge of the table. The fragile glass shattering as it came into contact with the floor. Shards of glass and juice spreading all over the floor.

Haise covered his face in dread, Saiko looked at the boy in an unimpressed manner. Mutsuki turned to nervously look at the boy who was probably shitting bricks and pissing himself right about now.

Trying to act nonchalantly Urie took a sip of his coffee, and Reina continued to scroll in her phone acting as if nothing ever happened.

The Nutcracker and her accomplice turned to look over her shoulder back at the blonde before she got up to pour herself a cup of iced coffee. Her gaze never leaving his.

"I'm sorry Investigator Suzuya... the Nut seems to be returning home earlier than we expected. She may have caught onto us. I'm sorry. It was my fault.. yes sir." Haise cut the call and turned to the sulking boy.

"Squad leader. It's alright. We'll make up for it next time."

"Shirazu. Look at me," the girl ordered. He hesitantly looked up at her, "Mistakes happen. You'll get used to things not going as planned. Cheer up."

Once the squad back home Shirazu locked himself in his room out of sheer frustration and embarrassment from his supposed failure. Leaving him be Reina went up to her room and grabbed a few toiletries before heading into the bathroom and taking a warm bath.

She stripped of her day clothes and stepped into the warm water, her mind running wild until she sat down letting the warm water relax her badly and mind. Slipping further and further into the tub she let herself get consumed by the water, numbing her senses letting the wave of calmness take over.

She recalled a memory. They were in the comfort of their own home, she was on her bed reading while her sister was by the windowsill painting her nails. She'd gotten to a chapter that described a new setting she was totally unfamiliar with.

The sandy, sunny beach. Where there was an infinite amount of sand and water—inches, feet, kilometers deep. Waves that crashed up against the rocks that bordered the shore line. The feeling of cold salt water splashing against their warm skin.

"Rize, what's a beach?"

"A beach? Well they're usually considered a tropical place, but not always. They're apparently great vacation trips for when you want to take a break from everything."

"How come we've never been to the beach?"

"That, silly girl, is because there's no big bodies of water here in the city. We need to be by the coast in order to be by the beach."

"I wanna go to the beach!"

"Do you know how to swim?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? Kichimura taught me how to-"

A knock at the door brought her back to reality. She pushed herself up and out of the water, hands wiping the water out of her face before responding.

"Yeah?"

"I need to ask you something."

"I'll be out in a minute—hold on."

She pulled the drain plug and stepped out of the tub onto the floor. Droplets of water soaking the dry floor. She wrung her hair and wrapped it up in a towel. She grabbed her other towel and began drying herself as quickly as she could. Deciding she was dry enough she put her underwear on and messily put her outerwear on.

Leaving the bathroom a mess she opened the door, her face being met with a poker face.

"What is it?"

"I need you to sign this." He handed the sheet of papear over.

Reading it over it stated the following, surgical consent form... frame procedure... healthy... next step.

"If I don't sign this, what'll happen?"

...

"And what did Sasaki say?"

"He'll give it some thought."

"Let's go to my room. We can discuss this more privately in there." She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around whilst guiding him to her room. Opening the door she pushed him inside and closed it behind her.

"Okay first thing first, why do you want to get it done?"

"I-"

"And be honest with me, I don't want a bullshit answer."

"As I was saying, I feel like I'm handling my kagune better than before and my rising RC levels have stabilized. Taking the next step in the experiment would be best for me."

"No. That's the answer you should give me, I want your personal belief. I know there's a stronger feeling that's making you feel strongly about the surgery."

...

Sighing she pinched her nose bridge knowing it would get her nowhere with him. Knowing Kuki Urie, there would be no coaxing his actual feelings out. He was a smart boy, knew exactly what his peers and everyone else wanted to hear. But when it came to Reina there was no use trying to suck up to her.

"Look, I know we're not as close as I am to the other members. But you keep pushing yourself away from emoting how you truly feel in the moment, and it's not just that. Remember how you asked for the reimbursement, and how you kept handing us receipts?"

He blinked.

"You never communicated with us. Had you told us your idea, your plan, anything at all! You wouldn't have put anyone in danger. You're holding yourself back and you don't even know it because that's been your whole li-"

"Don't act like you know me-"

"But I do know you. See how you're acting defensive? You know exactly what I'm talking about, Kuki Urie."

"Shut your mouth."

"You know, I wish you would just speak your mind no matter what. I can tell that you're hurti-"

"Will you sign the form? Or not?" He cut her off before she could say anything else.

"No." She crossed her arms, her voice dripping of disapproval.

He walked out of the room and slammed the door.

"Please take a look at the files in your hands... it's a copy of a list discovered at The Nutcracker's residence.

"A list?"

"Yes. It's a grocery list. It suggests there's a connection between the Nutcracker and the madames."

"So the Nut also kidnaps people, maybe she's collecting things for the auction."

"An auction..?" Mutsuki asked after hearing the word during the case.

"It's a bidding event that the madames hold—similarly to ghoul restaurants. They bid off the victims they kidnapped," Reina explained simply, "or in other words human trafficking."

"The ghoul known as the Big Madame—the chairperson of the restaurant and the show—is notorious throughout the CCG. We've had numerous chances to eradicate her, but they all ended in failure."

"So she's a vicious ghoul..?"

"If the Nutcracker is working for the Madame this could be an important case."

"If needs be, we may work, with Countermeasure II..."

Leaving the briefing was pretty eventful. With the newfound information of the case, everything had now changed. This was going to be the first case in a while where they would actively pursue a rate: ≥ A ghoul. It was like a scary thrill ride with how surreal the moment felt as it sank in.

The five of them walked out together and murmured a few words to each other about the case.

"Sounds likes it's bigger than I expected..."

"Yeah. A joint investigation with Countermeasure II rarely happens. Guess it's all up to the Nut... we need to be at our best." Haise stated, everyone else knowing that it was true. If they lacked competence in any way, shaper, or form they'd end up six feet under.

"Hey, Sassan, Nana."

Bothe mentors perked up at their names being called upon by the blonde boy beside them.

"Is Urie okay? Being sent to the hospital out of nowhere like that."

"Sorry, I don't know. I was just informed myself."

Reina sighed knowing exactly what happened. After the argument that ensued the night he presented her the consent form, she knew that he'd still get the surgery behind their backs. How he was able to go through with it? She didn't know, but she probably had a feeling he forged their signatures or something.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Shirazu. Urie's a tough nut, he'll get through whatever's going on in his immune system." She reassured the boy, not letting anything slip.

"I don't know. I can't reach Dr. Shiba either."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"They said he'll be back in a few days. It'll just be us then."

"We have a meeting tonight. Shirazu, there's someplace I have to go to after I lecture Saiko. Can I have the car keys?" Haise reached his arm out as the boy pulled the keys out without hesitation and passed them to the man.

After Haise came back, he wasted no time to call everyone into the meeting room to announce their new plan. He sat everyone down and gave them the shorter version of what he was told,

"The Nut is scoping out potential victims in clubs and other places in the 13th ward. The list includes some unusual criteria for victims. Ocular prosthesis... vocalist, and some general ones like specific height and weight."

He stood up, " guys. We're going to become women."

wc: 2.8k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: this’ll be the last chapter for the month, and I’ll be taking a break due to personal reasons. I’ll continue writing whilst I’m on hiatus, so it’ll be easier to post once I’m done and so I’m ahead of my schedule. I’ll be back by May! So I’ll see you guys then!

ps. I wasn’t going to post today at all, but I felt like I was depriving everyone and myself of giving y’all the next chapter, so here you are

Tag list:

Second Son (XIX) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The Battle of Hogwarts ensues.

Part XVIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Only the epilogue remains, my dear readers. Thank you. Final wc: 8.6k

Time seemed to be warping and blurring together frenziedly; day and night pushed out of conscious thought, the passage of days folding together in one reel of memories in your head. The starless sky peered at you like an endless void, indicating that it had somehow already dipped into the corners of the darkest hours again. 

Your heart gives a sharp twinge as you find your eyes locked to the tall figure standing at the head of the hall, face ashened, mournful cloak adorning his imposing figure like a blanket trimmed directly from the night sky. Harry lingered ways off from you as everyone stood with tense backs and squared shoulders. 

You blink away the detachment tugging at your awareness as your ears seem to become full of cotton, keenly aware of the way your wand poked at your ribs from your robe pocket. Your former Potions Professor flickers his gaze around the swarms of students around you, and your chest almost collapses in on itself when you lock eyes with the stone-faced man. Snape’s eyes widen ever so slightly, but he masks it with a sneer as he raises his eyes to look over your dismayed face. 

Your mind immediately spins into overdrive as you grapple with your thoughts. That couldn’t have been your imagination. He saw you, so why didn’t he say anything?

A frown dances on your lips as you revisit your old sentiments about the man. You had always had your reservations about Harry’s inimical attitude towards Snape (though he had them for good reason), and you were beginning to think that you were correct in your assumptions that the man’s interests weren’t exactly black and white. 

Harry drifts through the rows of students and makes himself known, immediately pouring out all of his pent up fury towards the man. Snape’s face does a funny thing as it shifts ever so slightly from suspicion to troubled. 

The doors from behind you are tossed open, causing everyone to step back towards the walls as all heads dart to survey the intrusion. At the helm of the group, Kingsley Shacklebolt strides in with more assurance and conviction than you’ve seen in any of Dumbledore’s followers since his death. 

Stepping out from the belt of students, you unconsciously begin to reach out towards Regulus. The boy’s eyes move through the crowd furiously until they lock onto your drifting figure, his shoulders immediately slacking as he extends his hand out to you. 

A smile crawls up your face as you hurry out of the crowd and towards him, unbothered by the burning of eyes on your back as you do so. Once you grasp the boy’s hand, he brings your hand up to his mouth to give it a faint kiss, shooting you a small wink as he tugs you closer to him. 

The Order members hold their unwavering stances, faces etched with determination as they gaze at a frowning Snape. The man’s eyes are still fixed on Harry, seemingly unperturbed by the arrival of the Order and the overt breach of security. 

Harry grits his teeth as he practically snarls at the man, “Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him!” Your friend’s chest heaves with every word, as if the recollection of the events was causing him physical pain. 

You edge closer to Regulus as your eyes flicker between the two individuals. It was a stand-off that had been brewing for years, finally sizzling and tipping past the boiling point as your mind takes you back to your very first year at Hogwarts, painted with Snape’s glares and Harry’s innocent confusion. No longer was your friend inflicted by such adolescent hurt, now only rage and fatigue shrouding from his body. 

It happens in a flash, you nearly miss it as you blink—Snape draws back and points his wand at Harry, eliciting choked gasps as the crowd of students split  further apart in shock. Regulus steps in front of you instinctually, and if the situation were not escalating to such a degree, you would have found it funny that he jumped in front of you despite having no weapon or wand. 

As Professor McGonagall pushes Harry aside, firmly drawing her own wand up, you push Regulus behind you as you reluctantly bring your wand up to point at the man you had made so many mental excuses for. Snape falters at the sight of the woman’s stance, but regains his composure and levels his wand to her. 

Silence falls upon the hall, tension as thick as molasses as everyone draws in their breaths in anticipation. For a moment, you think nothing is going to happen, that perhaps Snape would magically curl into regret and surrender, but then a bolt of flames soars through the air. 

McGonagall is unforgiving in her onslaught of attacks, and Snape merely backpedals from his spot as he deflects the spells. The man’s face falls impossibly further into hurt, and you’re struck with a whirlwind of confusion. 

Why do you look like you’re the one who’s suffering, professor?

The one-sided battle recommences and you’re left rooted in your spot as Snape suddenly flees out of the window in a flurry of black swirls. As the glass shatters, a cloud of excitement seems to sprout into the air as shouts and whispers fill the perimeter. 

Regulus places his hands on your shoulders as you pocket your wand, your eyes still glued to the broken glass at the end of the hall. The cheering and clapping die almost as quickly as they erupted when Harry collapses, a sudden sharp stabbing in your head accompanying your friend’s stumble. You hiss as you reach for your temple, noting how the hall was now blanketed by a miasma of fear. 

Suddenly, a piercing scream slices through the air like cold steel, followed by another and another. Regulus huddles you to him as he peers at you with concerned eyes, his hands moving to trail your arms as the buds of chaos begin to prickle around the room. 

A sharp hiss rings from all around you, and you would have feared for your sanity if not for the petrified expressions on many of the other students’ faces. 

“Give me Harry Potter…Do this and none shall be harmed.”  The words seem to bounce around the room as you guide your eyes to settle onto Harry’s stiff figure. 

“Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched.” 

You divert your gaze to look at Regulus, and find that the boy is already glancing at you with conflicted eyes. 

“Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.” 

The tint of doom seems to lift almost immediately, and you exhale shakily as the foreign pressure around the atmosphere dissipates. 

“What’s that look for, Reg?” You whisper, unwilling to raise your voice as confusion stirs the air into silence. 

Regulus huffs through his nose and wraps his hand around your wrist, stepping to stand beside you as he looks towards Harry, “Just wondering if it’s too late to leave and go back to Norway.” 

You shake your head and go to retort, but you’re cut off by a resounding voice emitting somewhere among the swath of students, “Someone grab him!” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together at the outlandish suggestion and your eyes trail about to try and distinguish who it came from. Seeing many of the gazes aimed towards a cluster of Slytherins, you tilt your head as you see an unfamiliar boy pointing towards Harry. 

Ginny makes her way in front of Harry, spurring the rest of your friends to crowd around the speechless boy. As your eyes begin to wander, wanting to take note of those who were readily jumping to serve your friend on a silver platter, you make eye contact with an unimpressed Blaise. 

The boy’s eyes flicker to look at Regulus before they jump back to you, an eyebrow slanting up in a manner that reminds you all too much of the Contessa. Blaise slowly slinks towards the back of the crowd just as Filch hobbles into the hall, shouting incoherently about students being out of bed. 

“You have some explaining to do.” Blaise’s velvety voice sounds from behind you, causing you to jump out of your skin.

Turning around on your heels, you slam your palm against your chest to jumpstart your heart again. Did he apparate? How the hell did he just appear behind you?

Rolling your eyes, you give the boy a brief hug, “Nice to see you too, B. Sorry that I went AWOL, I wasn’t exactly in contact with anyone.” 

“Except my mother.” He points out with a sniff, arms crossing. 

Coughing lightly into your fist, you sheepishly smile in apology, “Nothing big, just aiding some vigilantes.” 

“You are a vigilante yourself, no? And you couldn’t have sent a little slip of paper telling me ‘hey, I’m alive!’, could you now?” He mutters with narrowed eyes. 

Shifting from foot to foot, you lightly frown, “Uh, sorry?” 

He waves you off before setting his eyes on Regulus, who looks infinitely amused by your friend’s antics. Blaise pauses for a split second before a shit-eating grin plasters itself on his face, “Oh, how prestante! You disappeared and found yourself a pure blood boyfriend, I see.” 

You blanch at his words and he snickers, “Merlin, don’t look so surprised. His facial structure just screams pure blood.” 

“Okay, that’s enough of you, B.” You hiss, “You absolute menace.” 

The boy doesn’t have time to respond as students begin to file out of the hall, someone bumping against your shoulder as McGonagall announces that students would be evacuated, underage students taking priority, while those of age were welcome to stay. 

Your eyes widen at the announcement, the reality of your situation crash landing on you all at once. “B, go. And look out for Draco, will you?.” You point your chin forward, eyes flying around the room before you settle them on Regulus, “Reg, go with Blaise.” 

Regulus swivels to look at you with wide, disbelieving eyes, “I hope you’re joking.” 

“And I hope you’re joking. I’m not letting you run into danger without a wand!” You shoot back emphatically with a sharp tone. 

“Dio mio,” Blaise clicks his tongue, gracefully shoving his wand towards Regulus, “Here. If you break it or lose it, my dear Y/N will no longer have a boyfriend.” 

You and Regulus pause. One beat of silence passes, then another. 

“Blaise, what the bloody hell? Absolutely not! Your mother is going to have my head if she finds out that I left you defenseless.” You sputter, hands flying up and nearly batting into a passing student. 

The boy shifts to the side to avoid a stumbling first-year as he keeps his eyes steady on yours, “Good thing she’ll never know then. Besides, I won’t be needing it. I plan to apparate to Zabini Manor with Theo and Draco once we get out of here.” He rolls his eyes impatiently once you and Regulus remain motionless, “Now take it before I change my mind.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” You mutter quietly, eyes trailing towards the dark wand, feeling torn despite your friend’s insistence. 

“Well, he’s going to follow you anyway, and I’d rather be temporarily without a wand than permanently without a friend because you jumped in front of a curse trying to protect him.” He muses dryly, eyes quickly shifting to appraise Regulus as the boy reaches for the wand. 

He was going about this way too casually, a wizard’s wand was practically their life! But there was no arguing with the obstinate git, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. 

You nod and swallow harshly as your throat wells up with thick emotion, “Thank you, B. Stay safe, okay? And make sure Draco doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

“No worries, our dragon is all out of stupid after what happened last year.” The italian winks at you before elegantly spinning around, his robes billowing behind him as he strides towards the exit, weaving his way towards a familiar mop of platinum blond. 

Regulus twirls Blaise’s wand around in his hand as he gets used to the feeling. He looks over at you with a warm smile, eyes twinkling brightly as a fire lights in them, “Always a good judge of character, birdie. Indeed, you are proficient at picking friends.” 

“Clearly not proficient enough, Crowface. I managed to grow attached to a stubborn bastard like you.” You hum playfully, taking a hold of his wrist to drag him towards your circle of friends. 

Though, one meaningful glance from your savior friend was enough for you to understand: split up and haul ass. 

Hermione and Ron take off in search of the basilisk corpse in the Chamber of Secrets, while Luna gives you a small smile before darting off towards Harry with a frustrated frown. Professor McGonagall almost breaks her neck doing a double take at Regulus, clearly recognizing him, but says nothing of her revelation as she ushers you with her. 

Regulus trails after you both, flocked by Professor Flitwick and Molly Weasley, both giving the boy discreet side eyes. 

“L/N, we are going to need to give Potter as much time as possible. I’m sure you have an idea of how you can utilize your skills.” The woman gives you a small knowing smile, and you nod back quickly despite not knowing exactly what she was insinuating. 

It is not until she spins back around and braces her hands up that your brain begins to work again. 

“Piertotem locomotor!”

Your eyebrows furrow at the foreign spell, but your attention is immediately redirected when a deep thudding echoes from somewhere in front of your willowy professor. Peering around her, your eyes widen as numerous concrete knights begin to march out in streams from the entrance hall. 

Ah. We’re Harry’s first line of defense. 

Winking at a fascinated Regulus, you couldn’t resist the urge to demonstrate your own magical prowess, wanting to match up to the boy’s level of intellect. Drawing your wand out, you scurry down the series of stairs and drop to your knees, beginning to draw out the most complex shielding runes you knew, tangling the swirls of characters into compounds of symbols that begin to shimmer against the dull ground. 

The strings of characters glow brightly before darting off into the sky in a flurry of streaks, reinforcing the growing bubble being patched together by the Order members. You continue to relentlessly draw your symbols, the ache in your wrist being overshadowed by the warmth of pride that lit up in your chest at the sight of your runes chaining themselves to the colossal dome. 

Ways off from you, you see Regulus marveling at the sky, eyes dancing around the strings of your runes. Your brain screeches to a halt as you zone in to look at the boy, mouth floating into a faint smile at the way his lips imperceptibly part. 

It was paradoxical, how at the height of slaughter and war, you fell into a hum of peace at that very moment. Your drifting thoughts only surge forwards when a procession of wispy blue streams hail towards the near-translucent dome, raining down towards you in mottles of cerulean orbs. 

Just as you begin to rise from your position, knees wobbling unsteadily along the way, the feathery streaks crash into the shield and explode into veins of white combustion. The loud crashing of explosions deafen you, and you stumble in blinded shock towards Regulus. 

The boy is already making his way towards you, face grim as he strides across the plaza with purpose. You barely refrain from crashing into him as he reaches to hold onto your biceps. 

Blisters of blinding white wash over your figures as you grip onto his elbows. Chancing a glance at the sky, you laugh shakily, “Think you still know how to handle a wand?” 

Regulus smiles and cups your cheek, “Of course, I have to protect you somehow.” 

“Your sense of humor dazzles me, love,” you search his face, opening your mouth to continue your retort, only to be disrupted by a painfully loud explosion, followed by the sound of insistent sizzling. 

Above you, your beloved crown of protection withers away like disintegrating paper. 

Chaos erupts almost instantaneously with giants lumbering through the concrete knights on the bridge, as arrays of colorful light fracture the structures around you. You catch a glimpse of Professor Flitwick scurrying around the crumbling soldiers, hands gesturing frantically for the students to take cover inside. 

The rune weavings that you spelled float listlessly until they gravitate towards the castle, speedily wrapping around a couple of the towers and absorbing into its walls. Regulus grabs your hand and you both sprint for cover behind a pile of rubble, ducking as gusts of apparition soar above you. 

Screaming begins to bloom into the air, followed by hurried shouts of curses and spells. You spring up onto your heels, wand at the ready as your eyes dart around frantically, heart virtually beating in your neck. 

“Crucio!” 

Your neck snaps to the side at the guttural yell, barely muffling a yelp as a red bulb of light zips towards you. Dodging the spell, you feel a symphony of rage tug at your nerves at the sight of a familiar death eater—the man who had grabbed you during the attack at the Department of Mysteries, Augustus Rookwood. 

Practically swinging your wand, you hurl your spell, “Reducto!” 

The man goes flying across the courtyard, smashing through a cracked archway before landing roughly like a ragdoll. You feel someone press against your back, barely taking note that Regulus and you were fighting back-to-back before another death eater sets their sights on you. 

You don’t know how much time passes as you and Regulus weave through onslaughts of killing curses, blasting aside enemies and assisting other students in their duels. Your world of blurry fighting trickles into clarity once you catch sight of an enormous giant swinging down at a familiar trio, all of them sprinting further down the ruinous remains of one of the castle walkways. 

“Paxillos Inferni!” Your shout echoes all around you, and your vision tunnels in on the cast of neon orange that darts from the tip of your wand. A wave of satisfaction drenches you as you see the giant drop its weapon in surprise, body jolting in agony before dozens of small razor-like spikes sprout from its body, suddenly expanding in size with a sickening crunch. The giant drops to its knees, a lifeless husk, remaining upright, supported by the flurry of colossal spikes that impaled it from every direction.

A few death eaters in your vicinity stop in their tracks, eyes widening as they take in the sight of the shredded giant and your bright eyes. Regulus swings his arm forward, sending a death eater packing before taking notice of your victory. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” He mutters reverentially, eyes drifting from the carnage around you before settling on the palisade-giant fusion. 

You shrug before taking advantage of the wave of shock around you, incapacitating a few lingering death eaters, “In one of the books at Grimmauld Place.” 

“I see. Nice work, dear.” He hums, tying up a sprinting death eater before the crazed woman could attack a distracted Hufflepuff. 

A sudden chill ensnares the nerves in your spine and fingertips, and you have to suppress the violent shudder tugging at your muscles. Risking a glance away from the enemies in front of you, your mouth falls ajar at the sight of a curtain of black drifting towards you. 

“Dementors.” You murmured, unnerved by the sheer amount of the creatures making their way over. The golden trio tumble forward and become struck by the same sight. The dementors drop down towards the bridge, swinging and weaving around fallen bodies and chunks of concrete. 

A gust of blue threads tangle into a large sphere before expanding across the bridge, the exceptionally powerful patronus charm managing to ward away a majority of the dementor army. Your eyebrows fly towards the sky as you catch sight of Aberforth, the man’s wand extended out towards the retreating veils of grey. 

You had no idea the man was even capable of producing a patronus with how downtrodden he seemed just hours before. This would be the last time you’d judge a wizard by their supposed disposition. 

Catching sight of a few stray dementors, you instinctually raise your wand, expertly locating a few specific memories of yours to manifest the spell, “Expecto Patronum.”

The familiar sparrow bursts from your wand and darts towards the dementor, the creature immediately retreating into the sea of darkness as the small bird perseveres in its chase. 

“What?” Regulus’ breathless mutter has you directing your attention to him, eyebrows raising at the astonished look drawn on his face. 

Feeling bashfulness crawl up your chest, you clear your throat and jump back into battle, only sparing him a small biting remark, “Laugh about it later.” 

The boy follows your lead and sends a hex towards a cluster of death eaters, “Laugh about what?” His voice is tinged in disbelief, yet still marred by his previous amazement. 

“What do you mean, about what?–” you blast an unsuspecting death eater in the side, “--Obviously about my patronus.” 

“Why would I laugh?” He practically yells over the commotion of explosions raining from all around you. 

You want to groan, feeling that perhaps he was trying to torture you, “Because! It’s a bird. A little birdie.” The boy glances at you with a minute frown of perplexion before his eyes slowly shift in realization, head snapping back to take down a few more enemies. 

Once the mayhem around you quells in just the slightest, he turns back to you, “Merlin, what am I going to do with you?” He mutters with a faint grin. Before you have time to question him, he shifts around and lifts his wand up, “Expecto Patronum.” 

The light blue swirls jet out from the borrowed wand and you raise an unimpressed eyebrow as it surges towards a confused death eater, the man watching as the spell flies towards him. You really couldn’t blame him—you too, would be rendered speechless at the arbitrary display. 

Just when the spell goes to topple into the man, it morphs into a familiar shape that has you gasping. Regulus’ small patronus sharply shoots up into the sky before it can crash into the death eater, the small bird rounding in circles before dissipating into the night. 

You and Regulus don’t miss a beat despite the demonstration, both taking aim at the flabbergasted death eater and sending off your best hexes. Once the man goes tumbling away, Regulus turns towards you, “A finch.” 

“A finch…” you echo quietly. 

Finches and Sparrows. Complementary birds.

“You-” you can barely comprehend the look on Regulus’ face as he breaks out into a wide smile. Your mouth parts, taken aback by how blatant his fondness was. 

“My little birdie.” He whispers affectionately, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. 

Your heart stutters on the spot, and you have to close your eyes to try and grasp onto reality. Regulus’ hands dance around your waist as colorful blobs spiral across your eyelids, the stench and discord of war suddenly shoved out of the forefront of your mind. 

Opening your eyes, you take a brief moment to peer into the boy’s eyes, mouth pursing once you see the fire dancing in them. 

“Blast me into a wall if you hate this.” You whisper. Regulus merely grins, immediately understanding your thoughts, and looking anything but bewildered. 

Giving no time for lingering doubts to fester, you surge forward and crash your lips onto his. He reciprocates immediately, gently nudging you behind a mountain of rubble as his lips dance with yours. Your hands run around his sides, seeking something to ground yourself to as he leans in further, completely pressing himself to you. 

His hands press themselves into your back, pushing you impossibly closer to him as if he were afraid you’d fall through the ground and disappear. You both continue to clash together for a dizzying amount of time, only stopping once the burning for oxygen practically imprints itself into your lungs. 

Pulling back with a huff, your eyes widen in disbelief. Reality comes crashing into you like a bludger as your eyes jump around every little freckle on his face. Regulus’ chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, eyes refusing to stray from yours. 

“We-” you utter, voice practically a squeak. 

Regulus’ eyes flicker with mirth before he drops his head to sprinkle fleeting kisses on your jaw and neck. Your hands freeze against his chest, not knowing how to handle the hot flash of disbelief and giddiness that sinks into your frame. 

Your brain was glitching, perhaps even smoking out of your ears. 

Eventually, you gently push the boy off of you, eyes already flying around in search of approaching enemies. Flashing the boy a warm smile, you slowly begin to emerge from behind the mass of concrete, “Let’s continue this later, yeah?” Your voice comes out smaller than you’d hope, but you’re just happy it wasn’t shaky. 

“No protests from me, birdie.” Regulus whispers lightly, hand ghosting your back as he submerges himself back into battle. 

You aren’t sure how much time has passed, but you are vaguely aware of how the sky seems to shed away into a forlorn grey as opposed to its former void of pitch black. When you spin on your heel, you make eye contact with a panicked Harry which has all of your mental alarms ringing. 

“Reg!” You call over your shoulder, not glancing back again as you briskly march over to your friend, cognizant of the faint sound of footsteps behind you. 

As you near the boy, you reach over to grasp his forearm, “Harry?” 

Harry gulps, “Where’s Draco?”

“With Blaise, they evacuated.” Your voice is cautious, watching as Harry’s eyes flicker from you to the battle behind you. 

“Oh…Goyle’s dead.” 

“He’s what–what the hell? Harry?” 

He shakes his head, eyes darting to look at Regulus before he averts his gaze to peer off into the distance, “No time. Come on.” 

You share a look of resigned confusion with Regulus before you’re both bounding off after the speeding boy, mind whirring on overdrive as you all duck into the steep shadows and clamber down a vacant stairway. Harry crouches down as you near a building, and you can only silently squawk once you realize it was the Shrieking Shack. 

What the hell was the boy up to this time?

Harry leans against one of the walls and peers into a crack in the mosaic glass, eyes wide as he mutely scrutinizes the scene in front of him. You and Regulus huddle together to do the same, but not before you quietly cast a concealment charm to hide your presence. 

You’re able to make out Snape’s figure, the man’s face was undoubtedly sullen as he tracks the movements of his companion with a perpetual frown. You feel Regulus tense by your side as you both recognize the other occupant in the room. 

Clenching your jaw, you shoot Harry a sharp look that he ignores, the boy becoming entranced by the conversation Snape was having with bloody fucking Voldemort. Craning your head closer to the cloudy glass, you can faintly make out what the tense exchange was about. 

The Elder Wand?

Regulus drops his hand down to interlace with yours, eyes shifting back and forth over the lattice of the window as he tries to fathom the topic. A few moments of eerie silence stretch out before you’re flinching back as something tersely slams against the window in front of you. 

Your first instinct is to reach for your wand and prepare yourself for confrontation, but upon closer inspection of the glass, you realize that it was muddled by a dark heap. Tilting your head, you hover a finger over the middle of the black shadow, eyes widening once you see the figure move ever so slightly. 

Harry’s hands are clenched tightly by his side as he peers on with unblinking eyes. 

“Nagini kill.” 

The cold voice has you swallowing a gasp, ears prickling with cold needles of dread at the realization of what was happening. A reverberant hissing slices through the air and soon you’re watching helplessly as the figure in front of you slams and struggles against the pane of glass.

Tears stab at your eyes painfully as you remain rooted to your spot, shoulders completely slack as shame wrings your veins unrelentingly. Separated by a mere two inches of glass. You wanted more than anything to be endowed with a wave of courage—to spring into action and save your Professor, but you knew you couldn’t. 

Two inches of glass, and Snape didn’t even know such little distance separated him from help. Or maybe he did—yet, you didn’t know if that was worse. If he knew you were all there, and gave no inkling of knowledge to the vindictive Dark Lord. Was he protecting you all? 

The banging ceases, eventually. 

Your jaw trembles violently as splatters of blood decorate the panes in front of you, dripping bright red, the streaks mocking you. Regulus’ face is completely blank and devoid of any color, but you could see the deep-seated agony flashing in his eyes. 

Were they friends? You couldn’t help but want to ask, knowing that Regulus would have been Snape’s junior whilst at Hogwarts.

You hear Snape grapple with his pain, gasping forcibly into the silent air. For a few moments, you wait it out, not wanting to storm into the building just in case Voldemort was basking in his most recent attack. 

Harry shoots you a quick nod, and that’s all it takes for you to fly onto your feet, body pushing through the worn door with such force that it slams into the adjacent wall. Your eyes find your Professor immediately, heart flying away into the dusty shadows somewhere as you collapse by his side. Regulus kneels down by Snape’s feet, eyes searching the older man’s disorientated gaze. 

“Professor!” Your voice comes out as a thick tremble, hands shaking with adrenaline as you fish out your wand. You begin to try and cast the strongest healing charms you know, but deep in the back of your hazy brain, you knew it would be fruitless. Harry crouches down opposite of you, posture more reserved—guarded, as he swallows harshly.

Snape glances at you briefly, eyes already dimming, before he turns to look at Harry when the boy tries to put pressure on the man’s wound. You refuse to look behind the blood-soaked collar, knowing that his neck was likely a mangled, stringy mess of flesh and muscle. 

“Take them…Take them…” Snape utters with a pained groan, small glimmers of tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry, seeming to understand the man’s urgency, whips out a small glass vial from his pocket and collects the tiny droplets. 

Snape reaches out with a weak hand towards your frantic friend, fingers ghosting over his face as he smiles weakly, “You have your mother’s eyes.” 

Harry barely bats an eye at the man’s words, only peering at him with a mournful gaze. Regulus speaks up for the first time, eyes hard as he addresses your friend without taking his eyes off of Snape, “Harry, go.” 

The boy looks over to you in question, and you give him a brief nod. 

Harry hesitates before leaning back and nodding slowly, hand gradually retracting from the bloody mess of the man’s neck. Your friend bites the inside of his cheek before capping the glass vial, “Goodbye, sir.” 

Without looking back, Harry flees the room and leaves you alone with the dying man. Your hands wander about in the air helplessly, as you grit your teeth, “Professor, you can’t die.” 

Snape’s head lolls over to your side, and he gazes at you dully, chest rising and falling more erratically now. You shake your head and furrow your eyebrows, “Do you think you can just drop down and die like this! You still need to apologize to Harry. If you die, I’ll never forgive you. I don’t know what the hell you’ve been up to this whole time–this whole war–but Dumbledore trusted you. And Dumbledore was no bloody fool. So, live.” Your voice, once hard and full of fiery conviction, drops to a low whisper, “Live so I know that I haven’t defended you for no reason.” 

The man squints at you and his fingers weakly twitch, lightly tapping your hand once. Slowly, his eyes flicker to meet Regulus’ tense figure. 

“Regulus.” The man murmurs, syllables becoming slurred as his eyes droop lower. 

Regulus nods and shifts to sidle by you, hands reaching over to pat the man’s arm, “It’s me, Severus. It’ll be okay now, just rest.” Regulus’ soft words of comfort bring a small smirk to Snape’s face, and as you go to say more, your Professor’s breathing stutters to a stop. 

“Fuck.” You mumble out with a scrunched face, eyes burning as you press the image of Snape’s still body into your memory. Regulus’ shoulders sag, and he slowly reaches over to button up the collar of Snape’s robes with glassy eyes. 

“He might have actually been a spy for the Dark Lord this whole time, birdie.” Regulus whispers, hands drawing back slowly once he finishes his task. 

You sniffle and turn away from your dead professor, “I don’t know. I don’t want to believe that. I don’t even have a sound reason for my judgment—I can just sense it.” 

Regulus nods and reaches to cradle your face in his hands, “Your senses have yet to steer you wrong, little bird. I trust your judgment, always.” 

It was inscrutable. How could you truly mourn, pity, or empathize with a man who most thought to be Hogwarts’ most depraved? It was dichotomic how you wished to understand Snape’s motivations, but simultaneously wanted to spell away any memory you had of the man. 

A part of you hoped that he was everything you thought him to be—slightly misunderstood, heavily misguided, and desperately in need of atonement. Another part of you also prayed that it was the antithesis of your feelings—that he was truly an unredeemable, malevolent mastermind that fooled Dumbledore. At least that way, when the public inevitably denounced the man, he would deserve it. 

You refuse to shed tears over Snape’s death, but you wallow in the sea of hurt and conflict that threatens to drown you as you and Regulus make your way back to the castle. It takes a few moments before you snap back into reality, immediately tensing up as you scout the area for any signs of life. 

Regulus was faring better than you at the moment, eyes set forward, one hand grasping Blaise’s wand, the other, tightly clutching yours. 

“It will end soon.” He mutters, voice level and firm with certainty. 

You don’t respond, but you feel a pebble of determination fling itself into the empty cavity of your chest. As you both slip into a dark corridor of the castle, wands raised, you hear distant explosions and yelling around the corner. 

It was time to gear up for battle again. Throwing yourself into a slight duck, you swing out from the darkness with a hex at the tip of your tongue, a vicious spell rippling through the air and crashing devastatingly into a death eater moments after. 

Mayhem befalls the ruined hallway in a matter of seconds, and you catch a glimpse of two ginger mops. Slowly knocking down death eaters, you work further towards the two Weasleys. When you get within a few yards of the familiar individuals, you feel a small smile paint itself on your lips as you realize it happened to be Fred and Percy, fighting side-by-side. 

Seems as though Percy made up with the rest of them. 

Just as you send two death eaters down the stairs and into the path of a few stray hexes, you see Fred get knocked to the floor in your peripheral. The death eater standing over your friend waves his hand up menacingly, no doubt ready to obliterate him. 

Jumping into action, you aim your wand at the man’s back, “Mors Ruinam!”

A large void swallows the unsuspecting man before unceremoniously spitting him out from the ceiling just as Regulus shoots off a particularly nasty hex. 

You hoped that the Ministry wouldn’t be checking your wands after the battle. 

Fred is still splayed out against the wall when you approach him, face drained of color as he comes to terms with his near-death experience. You extend a hand to help him up, grunting when the boy nearly drags you down in his attempt to rise up. 

“What the hell was that?” He exclaims, eyes suddenly wide and bright. 

Leave it to the Weasley twins to bounce back at light speed. 

“Just a fun little dark spell.” You flash him a small relieved smile. 

He grins and claps your shoulder, “Wicked!” 

Percy makes his way over to the three of you with a nod, dark circles jumping out from his face as he slowly gestures for you all to make your way further up the castle. 

“Have either of you seen Sirius?” You ask, eyes trailing to focus on the wisps of fire that peeked through the cracks of the ceiling. 

“Reckon he’s with Remus and Tonks.” Fred supplies, glancing back to give Regulus a confused look. You nod and cough into your fist, eyes avoiding Fred’s as you deign him with an answer of your own, “Uh, this is my…boyfriend…Regulus.” 

Fred’s face splits into a grin and he nearly faceplants on the stairs as he shoots Regulus a knowing look, “Double wicked.” You roll your eyes, knowing that the next family and friends meeting would be awkward as you’d have to explain how and why you were dating Sirius’ dead brother. 

Regulus raises his eyebrows in amusement before tangling your fingers together. The journey up to one of the collapsing towers was uneventful from then on, but you were deeply relieved to see that Sirius was still up and running. 

“Pup!” He grins broadly, turning back around for a split second to blast an apparating death eater out of the window. The man makes his way over to you, giving you a brief hug before ruffling his brother’s hair, “Where’s Harry?” 

Just running amuck with your dead professor’s tears, no biggie. 

“Off and about. He was fine, last we saw him.” You answer with a hum, eyes catching Remus’ tired ones from across the tower ledge. 

“Where is Tonks at?” You wonder aloud.

Sirius hums and twirls to look at his fatigued friend, “Shacklebolt. They’re off somewhere inside the castle.” 

Percy steps forward and huffs quietly, “We should make our way down. There’s no telling how much longer this place will stand.” 

Before anyone could make a move to clamber down the stairs, a familiar steely voice hissed through your mind, “You have fought valiantly…but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now directly speak to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the forbidden forest and confront your fate…”

A few beats of silence pass and you could hear a few faint pops of apparition echo throughout the perimeter. 

“That isn't going to bode well with Harry.” You murmur, and Sirius grimly nods at your words, quickly retreating down the stairs. 

The walk down to the bustling dining hall is pervaded by a sense of dread and anxiety, all of you still on guard as if expecting a death eater to leap around the corner at any moment.  Just as you reach the heavy doors, Harry comes striding towards your little group from the other side of the corridor. 

Your head perks up at the sight of your friend, but confusion washes over you when you see the hard look in his eyes. His eyebrows are harshly furrowed as he stares down Sirius and Remus, both men looking at each other in confusion before starting to walk over to your friend. 

“Hey uh, Fred, Percy, I think your family is inside.” You cough out, not looking back as you debate on whether or not you should approach your furious friend. Luckily, both Weasley brothers feel the tension in the air and heed your silent request, Fred throwing an arm over his disgruntled brother’s shoulders as they saunter away. 

“What do you think happened, love?” You mutter, peering over to study Regulus’ expression. 

He turns to you and hums, “Snape gave Harry his memories earlier, I’m guessing he saw something he didn’t like.” 

You raise an eyebrow at the boy and bump your hip against his, “You know something.” 

“I know a lot of things, birdie.” He muses, pressing a hand to your lower back as you both watch on. 

Harry runs a hand around his lips before he peers up at his godfather and pseudo-uncle, muttering something that has both men flinching back as if he tossed a flame at them. You cross your arms as Harry sighs, seeming to retreat in his tirade, stepping around both men and marching in your direction. 

You shift to give him a questioning look, but he shakes his head and grabs both you and Regulus by the arm, pushing in between you both as he continues on his war path, “Later.” 

You don’t think you will ever receive an answer from your friend. Your heart feels like it is being ripped from your body as you stand atop of the ruined stairs along with the remaining survivors, watching as a completely still Harry is being paraded over to you by a river of death eaters. 

Neville grips the worn sorting hat tightly in his hands, mouth wobbling as he takes in the sight of the approaching forces. Your mouth stretches into a painful line as your eyes zone in on a particularly enthusiastic death eater dancing around beside Voldemort’s strutting figure. 

“Neville.” 

The boy turns to you as you begin to make your way down to him. 

“I hope you won’t mind if I send her to Merlin,” you whisper as you perch beside him atop a hill of rubble. 

Neville narrows his eyes at the woman before nodding, “Get to her first. I won’t be able to hold myself back otherwise.” 

“Deal. I’ll help you with the Lestrange brothers then.” 

Your brief exchange comes to a halt as Voldemort and his forces stop just a few yards shy of you both. 

Voldemort shoots a feral grin at the crowd before spreading his arms out widely in triumph, “Harry Potter is dead!” 

Ginny shoots out from somewhere behind you with a distressed wail, “NO! No!” 

Her father barely manages to tug her back as Voldemort hisses, pointing a spindly finger at her, “Silence! Stupid girl.” 

You want to snarl at the man, hand slowly wrapping around your wand. Regulus moves out from somewhere in the crowd behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as he stares down the laughing death eaters. 

Voldemort’s gloating continues for a few more moments before his eyes flit towards you and Regulus. It seems that world tips on its axis in that moment as the serpentine man stills on the spot before his face shifts to one of rage, the man’s change in demeanor spurring Bellatrix to follow his gaze. 

“Traitor!” She all but screeches, immediately lifting her wand to aim at Regulus. You react just as quickly, whipping your wand up to blast the woman into the next life, but you’re both distracted by the sound of a few gasps. Reeling over to look at the source of shock, your mouth curls up as you see Harry roll on the ground, standing and firing a spell towards Voldemort’s snake. 

Bellatrix whips her head to look at Voldemort before becoming further enraged as death eaters begin to flee by the dozen, clearly petrified by your friend’s ability to dodge death. 

“Reggie, cover me!” You yell, taking advantage of Bellatrix’s distracted state. The boy complies immediately, watching your surroundings as he begins to fire spells into the disarrayed crowd of death eaters. 

“Flipendo!” 

Your spell sweeps the demented woman off of her feet, her hair flying wildly as she bounces off of a broken slab of concrete. Explosions ring from all around you as Voldemort begins to take chase behind a fleeing Harry. 

Bellatrix recovers quickly, clambering around on the ground as she tries to find her wand. You almost want to drag out this one-sided duel to a torturous degree, but petty games had no place amidst war. 

Pointing your wand at a stone, you swing your arm through the air, “Depulso!” The rugged rock soars through the air before crashing into Bellatrix’s hunched figure, reducing her frantic movements into trembling pulses as she crumbles back down onto the ground. 

You pace towards her slack body, heart skipping as your mind races. Fuck, you didn’t kill her did you?

The woman’s eyes bulge in their sockets as she helplessly stares at your looming figure. 

“Filthy…traitor.” She mutters with a strained voice, mouth twisting into a repulsive sneer. 

You huff and shoot a glance towards Regulus, relaxing when you see him occupied with a duel, “Still have the energy to talk, do you?” 

The woman doesn’t answer, and only continues to gaze at you venomously. Her wand had clattered to the ground just a few feet away, and you faintly smile before kicking the curved stick into a nearby fire. 

“You brought this upon yourself. And really, it’s a shame for you that I’m not Neville,” you grin broadly at the woman, “he is far more merciful.” 

Before the woman can respond, you pace back a few steps before aiming at her, “Anima Redimat.”

The woman gasps shrilly, watching with frightful eyes as the purple spell sinks into her body, “You-” 

“You recognize it then? The Soul Ripping spell. I’ve heard you’re quite a fan of soul magic.” You hum as she gapes at you, “You’re not the only one who’s been around Grimmauld Place’s library.” 

The woman is unable to reply as the effect of the curse kicks off, a faint purple tinge enveloping her body. Bellatrix begins to twitch on the ground, limbs sliding around in a distressful dance before she completely stills, eyes wide and unseeing as her form freezes in a contorted manner. 

You spin on your heel and slide into the mayhem around the courtyard, firing off an endless flurry of hexes as a tidal wave of adrenaline pushes the world into clarity. Regulus joins you by your side soon after, eyes never once moving to greet his cousin’s lifeless form. 

As you turn to send off another spell, you still on the spot as you come face-to-face with Narcissa Malfoy. 

“Lady Malfoy.” You greet evenly, moving to blast away a death eater behind her. 

The woman hardly flinches at your ministrations and continues to stare at you before she finally whispers, “Draco?” 

“With Contessa Zabini and his friends, I sent Blaise off to take care of him earlier.” You reply, sending a binding spell flying from your wand as you see Rabastan Lestrange sprint across the rubble around you. 

The woman nods and peers at you with relieved eyes, “I see. Perhaps we should have tea one of these days.” Without waiting for a response, she strides away and grabs her husband, apparating out of the battlefield in the blink of an eye. 

Why did everyone insist on having tea with you? Your stress levels will be off the charts by the end of the day.

“Making your way up high society, birdie?” Regulus chuckles from beside you, a glint of satisfaction flashing across his eyes as he overpowers his opponent. 

“A penchant of mine.” You reply, tone glazed with amusement. 

Regulus shakes his head as he flings his fallen challenger away from him, “Trust me, the grandeur of it fades quickly.” 

The battle ensues for a few more beats before crescendoing as two figures suddenly drop down and roll into the middle of the square, driving everyone’s attention towards the disruption. 

It seems that time halts in place as Voldemort and Harry gather their bearings, wands raised up as beams of green clash into red, an overwhelming aura of power mounting up into the air. You faintly feel the magic, Voldemort’s smothering signature grappling with Harry’s light and airy one. 

The junction of power twirls into a vibrating ball of light as you see both men shake to push forward. Voldemort suddenly collapses onto his knees as the magic fades, a tense silence dispelling the air from your lungs as you step forward with bated breath. Harry quickly peers back in shock, and his contrast from Voldemort’s stricken demeanor tells you all you need to know: the tide of the battle has changed. 

Both men swing their wands forward again, but the power clash is less evident this time as the Dark Lord futilely struggles against Harry’s potent magic. The push-and-pull between the two disintegrates once Voldemort becomes enveloped by his own spell, the green wrapping around his figure like a deflating bubble. 

The man crumbles to his knees, body gradually going rigid on the spot as his skin begins to flake off into a wisps of ash. The swirl of flying particles reduces the man to nothingness, and you feel like you can breathe again. 

Voldemort was no more.

Harry steadies himself to his feet before smiling shakily, turning on the spot to greet the confounded faces around him. Sirius and Remus come flying from somewhere in the crowd, examining Harry’s condition as the boy stares off in content. 

This war was over.

So many years of suffering and struggle finally blooming into a new era, and your friend was at the center of it all. 

Regulus inhales shakily before turning to face you, seizing your stiff body into his arms when you glance back at him with disbelieving eyes. 

For the second time that day, he joins your lips together, and you can only claw at his enthusiastic figure helplessly as he crowds you against him. Cheering echoes from all around you as more people begin to pool into the courtyard, cries of victory lifting to the skies and blowing away the gloomy clouds. 

You cup Regulus’ face as you both slowly disconnect, lips swollen and eyes wide. 

“I love you, birdie.” He whispers with conviction, hands dropping to grip your waist. 

Your laugh bubbles into the air with a watery edge, and you try to ignore the tender fulfillment that permeates across your chest, “I love you too, Reg.” 

Today you would shed relieved tears and hold the untimely losses close to your heart, but with the battle won, tomorrow would be the beginning of a new chapter for Magical Britain. You would have to begin reconstruction, reelections, and rehabilitations—mere band-aids for the decades of emptiness that would scar every survivor of the Wizarding Wars, but it would suffice.

The incalculable change was a never-ending battle—even with Voldemort gone, but at least now you have Regulus by your side. Perhaps if change became too much, you could pay Reine a visit. 

A vacation or permanent getaway could be in order now, but that seemed like a worry for tomorrow.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17 @chocochannie @bl4stonesc @shari-berri @mrs-billyrussooo @pandemicboredom @gojosbucket @brain-has-left @googie-jeon @lovely-maryj @lokifriggason1 @aloramalfoy @godmitski @justanotherkpopstanlol @hpboysslut2707 @coffeehurricanes

AINT NO WAY THIS WAS POATED ON MY BIRTHDAY AND I DISNT FUCKING SEE IT 😭😭

Holy shit that was so fucking sad, I’m legitimately tearing up cause that just made me feel a bunch of things 🧍also I haven’t seen many paternal Viktor fics (in which I understand that people are pretty against wanting children [I am too], but I need that fluff rn so I can procrastinate on assignments and not have to think about school atm 💀) mind you spring semester has JUST started and I’m over professors assigning 15 assignments for one week worth of homework… yes that did just happen to me.

Turning Page

Summary: The man you once fell in love with has turned into someone, or something, almost unrecognizable.

Pairings: Herald!Viktor x F!Reader

Tags: Short n sad.

Words: 1.4k

A/N: His face card was so lethal it wasn't affected by the transformation at all.

Hoping to find a cure for Vander, you joined Jinx, Vi, and Isha on a journey to locate this infamous "Herald" deep within the heart of Zaun. You’d come across his name multiple times and had finally decided to give it a shot.

What could go wrong, right?

But the place was nothing like the dark, grotesque pit like it once was. No, it was quite the opposite. This was a sanctuary, a heaven in Runeterra.

Colorful and circular patterns spread across the whole area, as though resembling the process of cell division.

You couldn’t explain it, but something about the entire situation felt off.

In the center of the commune stood a massive circular shed. Its walls bore the same patterns that decorated everything around it, only larger. It was impossible to ignore that this was where the Herald resided—his place of authority.

You all made your way to it, waiting in silence for him to appear.

And he stepped out.

His figure was thin, a combination of metal in shades of purple and black covering his entirety. Yet, strangely, his face was the only part left untouched. He wore a blue robe that almost dragged along the ground with every step, his hair streaked with white at the ends brushing past his shoulders.

"Viktor...?" The name escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you froze.

The figure before you was someone—or something—you never thought you would see again. Your heart raced, unable to make sense of what your eyes were seeing.

Was this really him? The man you once knew now hidden beneath the skin of metal. His presence was familiar, yet he was someone entirely different.

It couldn’t be. No, there was no way this was him.

"It's good to see you again," he said, his voice devoid of expression. "State your purpose."

Your heart sank at his words and the tone of his voice, your mouth slightly fell agape. You hated how it lacked acknowledgment, how he couldn’t even bother to say your name.

It was clear he didn’t care about seeing you again, and right now, you were nothing more than a visitor.

Before he met you, Viktor’s dreams revolved solely around science, the progress of the city, and leaving a legacy. But with you, his ambitions became something simpler. Something human.

He began to dream of things he once thought were beyond him. Like marriage and the idea of creating a family to call his own. But those dreams remained unspoken. He was too afraid to voice them, fearing they might scare you, or worse, shatter the perfect balance between you two.

After all, the thought terrified him just as much as it might have you.

Yet words had never been necessary. You were inseparable, bound by something unsaid but undeniable. To anyone who saw you together, the conclusion was always the same: You were more than friends.

Two souls so intertwined that the line between had blurred, connected by strings purely from the veins that built the two of you. You were practically lovers, just too afraid to admit it even to yourselves.

The explosion at the council had truly taken him from you, or at least the version of him you once knew. All that remained was this cold stranger, and the realization hurt you more than you would like to admit, leaving a void in your heart where love once bloomed.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Vi spoke up, explaining the reason for your visit. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, memories from a year ago rushing back just before he vanished.

"Please... You've just been brought back to life. You have to stay with me, Viktor..." Your voice cracked as you added, "What about us?"

Viktor was momentarily stunned by your words, stopping in his tracks as soon as he heard them. He turned to face you, his eyes lacking their spark. Your anxiety rose under his gaze as he uttered words you never imagined would ever escape his lips.

"Was there ever an us?"

The sting of his question lingered in your chest. You couldn’t follow him, not after that. That’s when you let him go, and you never saw him again.

Without a word, you walked away, leaving them to their conversation. Jinx gave you a puzzled look but didn’t bother to follow. You could feel Viktor’s gaze following you as well, and it felt as though it was burning your skin.

You sat down by a fruit vendor, who offered you a piece after noticing the look on your face. "Thank you," you murmured.

Where you sat wasn’t too far from them. You could still see them, but their words were no longer audible.

You watched Viktor. He looked healthy now, but could he truly be considered healthy if he wasn’t even human anymore? Sure, the limp was gone, and the pain he once wore due to his illness was nowhere to be found.

But those were the details that made him human. Those imperfections were the ones you always found beautiful. They were what made Viktor, well, Viktor.

You were relieved he no longer had to suffer, but seeing him replaced by this almost emotionless being broke your heart.

You took a bite of the fruit, its sweetness doing little to ease the knot in your stomach. You watched them as a few more minutes passed. Then the sisters and Isha finally drifted away from Viktor, Vander following him toward a shed away from the others.

Jinx skipped over to you. "Ask for a miracle healer, get a metal fortune cookie," she quipped.

Vi rolled her eyes, her hands stuffed in her pockets as she ignored her sister's blabbering. "What’s going on? You know that guy?"

You exhaled, cheeks puffing up as you tried to find the words. "Honestly? I don’t think I do anymore." You shook your head, struggling to explain. "But we used to be... Uh... We were..."

Vi chuckled, sitting down next to you. "I think I know what you mean," she said with a cheeky smile. "Too bad we’ll probably have to stay here for a couple of days."

Indeed, days had passed. You spent them mingling with the members of the commune, listening to their stories and hearing them recall their life experiences. Every answer circled back to praise for Viktor, voices filled with devotion as they spoke of how he saved them.

You couldn’t help but smile at their words. This was what Viktor always dreamed of—to help the people of Zaun, to ease their endless suffering.

But in pursuing that dream, he had lost you. And perhaps himself.

You avoided interacting with him, focusing instead on Vander’s progress. Viktor was patient with the creature Vander had become, more patient than you expected.

At least that part of him remained intact. At least he was still the same caring Viktor in some way, you thought to yourself.

You let out a laugh as you scooped Isha into your arms, lifting her high into the air. Her giggles filled the commune as you tossed her upward and caught her again.

She clung to you between laughter, arms raised. The joy on her face was so contagious that you couldn’t help but laugh with her, your heart swelling with nothing but happiness.

Viktor lingered behind a wall, his frame half-hidden but still visible. Just watching.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Seeing you with Isha simply enchanted him, and it made him feel something he hadn’t in a long time.

Paternal.

He had once dreamed of moments like this. Though, they didn’t consume his thoughts fully, but they lingered as what-ifs.

There were days when he imagined you carrying a child you had created together, soft laughter and lullabies echoing through the living room of the home he built for you.

In those visions, he saw himself holding your child while standing by your side, mouthing words like, "Say, 'Papa,'" as if a two-month-old infant could already talk.

At that moment, those dreams seemed to mock him. As he observed you lovingly holding Isha, a part of that dream reignited in his heart. And for a moment, his lips curved into the smallest of smiles. It was so faint it almost wasn’t even there. It caught him off guard. That smile didn’t come from logic or the machine. It came from somewhere else. Some part of him that still felt... still longed.

A part of him that's you. His humanity.

He blinked, letting the feeling slip away. Whatever part of him that still hoped for that life wasn’t meant to exist here.

Not with what he’d become. Not ever.

He stepped back, retreating to his shed. He would leave things as they were.

For your sake. For his own.

Because some dreams were simply kinder left untouched.

annoying.

pairing - james potter x slytherin!reader

summary - james potter has a crush on you, but you don't feel the same way. or do you?

trope/tags - friends to lovers (kind of), grumpy x sunshine (again, kind of), fluff

word count - 8.5k

warnings - language, mentions of sex

lowercase intended!!

the very first time james tried to get your attention was in your second year at hogwarts. he could not recall the exact moment he realised that he would do quite literally anything for you, even if it meant that he would have to die, but he knew for sure that you were the one he was meant to be with. remus thought he was being a bit dramatic, he was only twelve, for merlin's sake, what does he know about love, but james paid no mind to his worries and complaints. sirius, of course, supported him, and peter simply just trailed along hoping that they will make it out alive. why? well, you were a slytherin.

you were having lunch in the great hall with your peers like every other day. barty was acting like his usual joker self. which, frankly, was not his smartest idea, considering the blaringly obvious fact that everybody was eating and a choking hazard comes in package with laughing while chewing. no one really batted an eye, though. pandora was barely holding herself together, and evan was miserably failing at keeping a straight face. regulus was rather unphased and continued shoving pieces of beef into his mouth, but not while secretly chuckling at the stupid faces barty was making. you and dorcas, being the oldest ones, attempted to calm them all down, but your worries went on deaf ears. regardless, you were having a wonderful time, blissfully unaware of what your life was about to turn into.

"oi, l/n!" the laughter around you faded away and everybody's focus was now shifted to james standing at the entrance of the great hall.

"is that potter?" pandora wiped her tears away and rose up from her seat to see the show which was about to unfold. you furrowed your eyebrows as you slipped away into thought, picturing all sorts of possible terrifying scenarios, because why the hell was he addressing you all of a sudden? out of all people? and so loudly? you'd only ever spoken to him in potions class the previous year when slughorn assigned you to work together.

it was all very confusing and you weren't sure what to make of it.

you panicked when james started walking towards you and failed to notice the way your friends sniggered at the way your face went completely pale, just like that. he slipped into the empty spot next to you, smiling while he was waiting for your reaction. gasps left the mouths of multiple slytherins at the table, and your eyes widened in horror when you recieved dirty looks from snape and his peers. they were certainly going to terorise you and your friends for that.

it took you a few seconds, but you managed to connect the dots in your head. those sudden behavioural changes whenever you passed him in the corridors, the all but subtle glances he would send your way, the smiles, that weird twinkle in his eyes - everything suddenly made sense, as much as you hated to admit it. james potter had a crush on you, and he finally mustered up the courage to do something about it. and in the stupidest way possible.

"hello." you tried sound as polite as you possibly could despite wanting him to give him a hard push to the floor. you were everything but delighted by his presence, and restored to picking at the food in your plate without sparing him a second glance. regulus let out a snort.

"can i ask you something?" he leaned forward on the table with his hand supporting his chin. he was way too enthusiastic for your comfort and you wanted him gone.

"uh, alright, i guess." you shrugged lazily, biting the inside of your cheek in distress. part of you felt like you should let him speak; what if it was school related? potter was smart, and you could use some help on your transfiguration essays. the other part of you, however, was just about ready to strangle you.

"wanna be my girlfriend?" he smiled stupidly and it was followed by hollering and cheering from his friends, including your own. the students at the gryffindor table all appeared to have a million questions running through their minds, and your fellow housemates were not very pleased - not only did he ruin their lunch, but he was a gryffindor. and top of it, he was james potter.

you did a double-take. your mouth fell open in surprise. this was exactly what you feared.

"what?! no!" you whisper-yelled, petrified by his offer. your face was on fire, and not because you were flattered by his words, but purely out of embarrassment. barty and evan dissolved into laughter.

"okay, then how about a date first?" he was persistent and you moved away from him by instinct, only to have dorcas push you forward and towards him.

"no! go away!" you hissed, mortified, and turned your face away from him to hide the fact that it was burning. you almost reached for your wand and hexed them both.

"i have a book with some cool jinxes that i can teach you! it'll be fun! please!" he kept pushing, his eyes sparkling with hope. you swore you felt like smoke was about to come bursting out of your ears. regulus reached from behind dorcas and tapped your back in a comforting manner, but you did not miss the way he smirked after he retrieved his hand.

"teach me?! do you think i'm stupid?!" you snapped, finally whipping your head in james' direction with rage evident on your face.

"i thought you wanted to learn the– ow!" you kicked barty in the shin from under the table. the sudden impact made everybody's plates shake. "hey, i almost spilled my soup!"

"come on, y/n! please!" he decided to shoot his shot one more time, this time with puppy eyes, and a sodding pout, but you refused to give in. nothing in the world could have made you say yes to james bloody potter.

"no." you said sternly, crossing your arms and not allowing yourself to look in his direction again.

"fine! but just so you know, i'm not giving up," he stood up, it was amusing to you how unaffected he was by your rejection. he was as enthusiastic as he was when he first took a seat next to you, "i'm gonna make you mine."

***

and james kept his promise. the next several years at hogwarts became certainly memorable. getting rejected bruised the gryffindor boy's ego, so he was determined to prove himself to you and became quite a little show off. he was awfully cocky, and to top it all off, he did the absolute stupidest things to try and impress you - from jinxing snape after he heard him berate you for messing up a potion, to straight up helping you cheat in transfiguration class and getting himself a year's worth of detentions. he was a gentleman, though, and didn't try to pressure you into going out with him after you made it clear that you did not want to. as much as he adored you, he never went out of his way to actually do something that would cause you discomfort. no, that was his biggest nightmare.

funny enough, it was also why your hatred for him began fading away, and very unfortunately for you, there was no going back. you really had no true reason to dislike him as much as you did, which only made you loathe him even more. truth be told, you felt bad, and that was what you hated the most.

after james' terribly unsuccessful attempt at asking you out, things became rather awkward and you did everything in your power to avoid him. you despised him, or so you told yourself. your friends were sure you did, you spoke about him with so much venom in your voice that pandora thought they'd have to lock you up to stop you from using a forbidden curse on him. but then somehow, the two of you formed a strange sort of relationship, one would even call it friendship - james would randomly wind up in the same places you (he'd always claim that it was only coincidental), but you wouldn't chase him away. yeah, you'd be mean to him, obviously, and any normal person would probably cry, but he was enjoying it, because, well, it was you. when you grew closer to the gryffindor girls, mary macdonald managed to open your eyes and you saw that james wasn't the creep you assumed he was. so, you warmed up to him, and by some strange miracle, stopped completely loathing him and his presence.

though you still found him completely, utterly and unbearably annoying.

"oi, l/n! what you up to?" he showed up in the astronomy tower where you were reading one gloomy afternoon. regulus must have told him where you were, looks like someone's sleeping on the floor tonight. the lake seemed like a perfect place to drop a bed into at times. it's not that you didn't want james there, it's just that you didn't want to see anybody at that particular moment. you had grown to love colder weekends. they were the perfect excuse to avoid any unwanted trips to hogsmeade that would usually lead to you getting in trouble because barty had a habit of setting off a dozen dungbombs to poke at mulciber and snape. as satisfying as it was, you had gotten enough detentions that year and you weren't exactly prepared to receive another howler.

so, you just couldn't miss out on the perfect opportunity to go up into the astronomy tower and read in the peaceful atmosphere. it had always been much calmer up there compared to the other parts of hogwarts.

"reading." you replied flatly, returning your gaze back to the text in front of you. or at least you pretended to do so. no matter how hard you tried, you could not focus again, so you kept your eyes on the same sentence while you waited for him to do something. for a moment, you wondered what he had been up to before he found you. he peeked over your shoulder to take a better look at the writing.

you did not say a word, and you realised that if you sat there pretending to read while waiting for him to leave you alone would most likely take hours, so you continued trailing your eyes over the letters, and got lost in the story once again.

what you didn't notice is that he got invested too, completely by accident. it wasn't james' intention to come down there and read with you, he wasn't even sure what you were up to and all he wanted was to see you, but there he was, reading from behind your shoulder in the tranquil ambient of the tower.

it was when he suddenly asked you to wait before flipping the page that you realised he had been reading with you all along, and you squinted your eyes at him with a glint of curiosity in them.

"what are you doing?" you quiered. the sudden shift in the atmosphere took him off guard a bit, and he gulped when you locked your eyes with his own.

"reading?"

"didn't know that was a synonym for being an annoying little git."

"i'm not that bad." he defended himself, trying to look back at the letters. you scoffed.

"i thought you hated books." you hid the writing away from his gaze and quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

"i don't hate them. i just prefer not to read." he responded, sounding a lot more cocky than intended which drew a chuckle from you.

"way to impress a girl." you rolled your eyes.

"i am professional at it." you laughed in his face.

"at least you're honest," you shrugged, he furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement, "merlin, are you daft? what i mean is, you're staying true to yourself. not pretending that you enjoy something just to sweep me off my feet. it's admirable."

"of course i am! i could never lie to you. you're the most beautiful creature i have ever beheld in my sight." you let out an exaggerated sound of disgust, pressing your palm against his face and pushing him away, "lay off, romeo."

"oh!" he stood up suddenly, putting his hand over his heart dramatically and looking up, "with love’s light wings did i o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out. " he glanced back at you. you guffawed, looking at him in bewilderment, "where on earth have you managed to hear that?"

"watched romeo and juliet in the theatre during holidays." you cocked an eyebrow at him. never would you have thought that james potter was the one who'd take interest in muggle literature and films. "got a favourite scene?"

james pursed his lips in thought. "the morning after." he wiggled his eyebrows and sat back down.

"that's disgusting." you laughed.

"i'm only joking, i think the balcony one would be my favourite. i'd say it's very romantic," he shrugged with a sly smirk, "and it also made me feel the least emotional pain, if you know what i mean." he put a hand to his chest for dramatic effect and sighed.

"oh, merlin." you rolled your eyes playfully, letting out a snigger at his act. "look, i'm gonna be straightforward with you right now," you began. james sat up straight. you held back a laugh, poor fool probably thinks you'll return his sorry little feelings.

"you're not nearly as distasteful as i thought you were." you poked his arm. james looked a bit perplexed, almost as if he was expecting something more (which he was).

but then he laughed breathlessly, seeming more proud than disappointed. you couldn't help but chuckle. he bit the inside of his cheek in thought as he took in the sight of you, wondering how in the hell he got so lucky to know you. you may not feel the same way, but you surely make his life seem like an utopia, even though you're quite mean to him.

"continue, please." he reached over your arm to turn the page. you were rather intrigued by whatever that was.

"hold on for a second. why are you here, exactly?" you leaned forward to prop your chin in the palm of your hand, observing his face attentively as he scratched the back of his neck in thought.

"i guess i wanted to see you." he responded honestly.

"and there i was hoping you had something exciting to tell me." he chuckled lowly. you had come to notice that his voice was getting deeper. it wasn't high pitched and annoying anymore, definitely a lot less infuriating.

"wait, i didn't finish–" he tried to stop you before you could turn the page. "sorry, guess you gotta read faster."

"that isn't fair."

"i beg to differ."

"you're so not cool."

"then why d'you keep pining over me?" james opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he huffed and crossed his arms. you smiled in victory, laughing when he stuck his tongue out at you.

***

by the end of year four, you had read about ten books together. he even read muggle poetry to you in the hospital wing when you got sick, which, to nobody's surprise, lead to what seemed like never-ending teasing from barty and evan (who were also james' biggest hypemen aside from the marauders). when you looked back at it a few years later, you realised that it was the moment when your first romantic feelings for him started blooming, though you would have never admitted it at the stubborn and rebellious age of fourteen. you were headstrog, a bit in denial as pandora liked to say, and top of it off, you were hard to please. in between all of that was james, who wasn't subtle about being head over heels for you in the least bit, and who would have done anything to get your attention. a match made in heaven, really.

you loved to tease him about it. he sometimes wondered why he had to be the one to fall in love with you. that's where the worst part of it all came in; feeling insecure, comparing himself to his friends, secretly wishing he was sirius (since all the gryffindor heartthrob had to do to win a girl over was to wink in her direction) and an existential crisis as an extra in the package. you clearly were never interested in him, and he couldn't help but think you never would be. sometimes, all he was doing seemed pointless, but he kept telling himself that one day you'll love him the way he loves you.

when your fifth year rolled around, you thought he would've dropped the act by then. you had matured over the summer, or at least you believed you had, and you assumed he had too. you had what some may call a summer romance with some stupid muggle boy, and to everybody's surprise, you were the one to break his heart after realising that whatever you felt for him wasn't love. a little something was stopping you from loving him and you may or may not have attempted to obliviate yourself in order to forget about james. obviously, you failed. stupid idiot.

the entirety of your holidays, you kept wondering if james had got over you, or if he was more lucky than you when it came vacation romance. you thought about him meeting a girl who actually cared for him and returned his feelings instead of teasing him, a girl that could have made him forget you completely, a girl who he had a happy ending with. you rather hated the mere thought of that. thinking about it caused an unexplainable ache in your heart.

much to your own delight, you were totally wrong.

however, things were not the same as they were the three previous years. you two became almost inseparable. dorcas kept teasing james, calling him a thief, saying he took her best friend from her. he would play along, tease her back, and tell her that he's a better best friend anyway. it made your heart flutter in a disgustingly sweet way.

you hated the way he made you feel. you hated the way you wanted to see him more often instead of avoiding him. you hated the way he smiled at you. you hated the way he tried to make you more comfortable by pointing out that you are indeed just friends. you hated james potter, yet you couldn't get enough of him.

you would never admit it, though, no. he was still that stupid little boy who offered to teach you jinxes, that idiot who chased snape away from you like a proper knight in a shining armour, that tosser who's voice was still cracking when you read together in the tower, that adorable–

"do you fancy going to hogsmeade with me tonight?" james appeared from behind you the moment you exited the classroom after finishing with ancient runes.

"studying, sorry." you shrugged, pulling out a piece of parchment to remind yourself which class you had next. "really? that's more important than me?" he sighed in disappointment, trotting after you as you began making your way over to the transfiguration classroom.

"who said you're important to me?" you smirked and looked over your shoulder. he flipped you off with a playful eyeroll, chuckling at the way you looked so proud of yourself for that comment. "i'll meet you at the portrait at six." you added.

the two of you entered the classroom, laughing over some horrible joke he cracked on the way. you took your usual seat next to dorcas who shot you a funny look the moment you stepped through the door.

"what?" you deadpanned before slamming your book onto the table and flipping through the pages. "care to explain?"

"explain what?" you scrunched your face up at the amused look on her face.

"twat," she slapped your shoulder, "you and potter?" dorcas motioned her head towards him, and you looked his way to find him scribbling something down into sirius' book. he looked up just in time to meet your eyes and sent a smile your way. you grinned back and turned to your friend again.

"what about me and him?" you weren't quite sure where she was getting at with whatever the hell this was. she knew your relationship with james was platonic with a capital p, simple as that. she laughed in your face.

"dorcas! don't be ridiculous, he's only my friend." you leaned back in your seat, profusely blushing and crossing your arms over your chest. everybody knew that you and james were just friends. nothing more.

"i think you better tell him that." lily turned in her seat to face to you. mary, who was sitting next to her, only nodded her head which confirmed that she wasn't on your side either. and neither was marlene who looked rather amused observing you from the table next to yours. of course she wasn't, the fact that she fancied dorcas was more obvious than she thought.

"oh, please. he even calls himself my best friend, you lot are delusional."

"fuck, y/n, you're hopeless." dorcas groaned, exchanging some disappointed glances with the gryffindor girls. she let her head fall down onto the table in frustration. you scoffed, averting your eyes to james and keeping them there for a while.

that was how the rest of your fifth year went; you and james being friendly, him asking you to accompany him on some stupid adventures he often came up with, you playing hard to get, but agreeing to hang out in the end. all of that would usually be followed by dorcas'... and pandora's... and lily's... and pretty much everybody's pointless attempts to talk some sense into your head. you would brush them off, saying he's just a nice bloke who's nobody but just a good pal of yours. you even said it to sirius.

and all of you knew that wasn't true.

***

soon enough, you began your sixth year and james was starting to lose his mind. he was so in love with you, he could barely keep a calm act around you. hiding it became a lot more difficult. he was convinced that you thought he was over you, because why on earth would somebody still be friends with a person who rejected them and showed zero interest in a romantic relationship? he felt miserable. he wanted you by his side, but just friendship wasn't enough to ease the ache in his heart. one thing was for sure, and that was that he had to talk to you.

he needed to let you know that he still loved you, and pour out all of his feelings if it was necessary. he thought that if you rejected him again, he would drop the whole thing and really, truly settle for just being friends, and that is, if you end up wanting anything to do with him. it would be difficult, getting over you. it would hurt, coming to terms with it all would be an absolute nightmare. he would be heartbroken without a doubt, but he believed he could manage it if he tried hard enough. lies.

very conveniently, you and james got into a bit of trouble that day. that was a well-known concept to you both. neither of you completed your major muggle studies essay on time, hell, you hadn't even started with yours, so you decided to do the only rational thing. which was to ditch the class.

it was nerve-wracking, sneaking through the corridors and trying to avoid getting caught by mrs. norris, or filch, maybe even by a professor, but you managed to make it to the grand staircase. you thought you were going to succeed, you were so close, but surprise, surprise - you were caught by bloody dumbledore himself. instead of cooperating, you tried to make a run for it and hide in a broomstick closet, just in time for filch to catch you.

task failed successfully.

you weren't sure how you managed to dodge getting forbidden from going to hogsmeade or even leaving the school premise, as that was the punishment you both expected to get for running away from the headmaster, but you were more than grateful that the man settled for simply giving you detention.

"do you fancy going for a walk by the lake tonight?" you questioned when you finished cleaning the floor of the potions classroom after your poor attempt at skipping muggle studies.

"what?" james mumbled incoherently, bending over to pick up some crumpled up parchment under one of the seats.

"that was a yes or no question." you crossed your arms. you weren't sure where you were getting all of the confidence from, but you settled for blaming in on james and his self-assuring personality which had quite the influence on you, even though you willingly began spending a little too much time with him. you cursed mentally.

"wait, huh?" he stopped what he was doing, looking rather confused.

"was i not clear enough?" you rolled your eyes in a teasing manner.

"you're asking me to hang out?" his entire face lit up, a hopeful smile found its way to his lips. "yeah, silly, that's what friends do," you scoffed, though you were slightly crumbling on the inside, "so don't you dare treat it as a date." you quickly added, fixing your stance and straighteing your back to come off more relaxed. regardless of your shitty attempt at trying to pretend you were disinterested in him, james looked like he just won the lottery.

"of course." he scrambled to clean up the rest of the mess under the seats as fast as possible. he could not believe you. it truly seemed like he the odds were in his favour that day. just when he was planning on giving up and destroying everything, that simple question restored all the hope he had lost. that was the first time you asked him to hang out. it was usually him initiating everything. you quietly giggled at his overjoyed reaction, and a strange feeling washed over you. you ignored it, all of it, and settled for avoiding his gaze as much as you could for the last thirty minutes of detention.

eight o'clock rolled around so fast you could barely keep track of it. you were in a state of disarray - nervous, panicking and desperately trying to come up with some excuse you haven't used to brush james off before just so that you didn't have to show up. but that would be stupid, wouldn't it? you were the one who wanted to hang out. dorcas, evan, barty, regulus and even pandora were laughing at you, showing no signs of wanting to help you and refusing to give you any form of emotional support whatsoever.

"what great friends you are." you remarked sarcastically, pulling the first jumper you saw in your trunk over your head.

"isn't that his?" barty smirked devilishly, scanning the clothing item with his eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down just to see that the gryffindor jumper you put on did not in fact belong to you. your eyes went wide. all five of your friends convulsed with laughter when you scrambled to take it off. evan fell off of dorcas' bed right onto the hard floorboards.

"i don't know how it got here, but i swear it's not what you think!" regulus was clutching his stomach after joining evan on the floor, and you threw the jumper right in his face. pandora wiped some tears away with the sleeve of her shirt and then quietly chuckled again as she was trying to stop any more tears from coming.

"i will strangle you all, i'm not joking." you lifted your hands up in frustration, stomping back to your trunk and this time taking a shirt you were sure was yours.

"oh, c'mon, we're only teasing you," dorcas stood up, walking over to where you were and hugging you from behind, "i'm sure the laundry got mixed up." barty trailed off, and you could see him holding back a grin.

"right, but," dorcas pulled away from you and began walking backwards towards the door, "it would be quite romantic if you kept it after a nice shag, wouldn't it?"

"dorcas!" you screeched, and she was out of your reach before you even made it halfway towards the door. your friends burst into giggles again, or what was left of them, as evan and regulus were half-dead. you were a blushing mess, and you left your room resembling an angry child who was moments away from throwing a tantrum, but not without james' quidditch jumper in your hands.

you didn't notice the strange looks you were given by the students you passed by in the dungeons. you looked furious, with your jaw clenched and your face beet red, all while holding onto something which belonged to a certain dark-haired gryffindor. your thoughts did not seem to go in that direction even once. you could think of nothing but james.

the mere thought of him made you feel strange. it was a feeling that wasn't too familiar to you, but you had quite clear of an idea of what it could be and it was devouring you. simply looking at him made you feel giddy. his smile would make your heart jump. the light brush of his shoulder against yours would make you shiver. you were in love. but boy were you stubborn.

"who hurt you?" you stopped in your tracks when you heard james' voice come from behind you. you met his warm gaze. there it was, that flutter in your heart again. you blamed his smile for it. you almost cringed at yourself, you were so preoccupied by thinking of him that you failed to acknowledge his actual presence.

was he always that attractive? his eyes are so pretty. how's his skin that perfect? god, his lips look-

your swallowed harshly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks and the handsome boy standing in front of you gave you a questioning look. you cleared your throat before handing him his jumper.

"i found this in my trunk." you looked down in embarrassment, crossing your arms and fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of your shirt.

"oh!" he took it from your hands, his jaw fell slack, "how did that - there must've been mix up with the laundry."

"probably." you replied dryly, avoiding his gaze. "won't you be cold?" he questioned when he noticed how light the shirt you had on looked. the sleeves reached your elbows, the material was almost see through and certainly not suitable for chilly autumn weather.

"i'll manage." you shrugged lazily, looking down at the floor. those old tiles seemed rather amusing all of a sudden. 

"put it on." you lifted your head. you looked at the clothing item, then at james. you sighed and reached for the soft material. "thanks," you mumbled under your breath, holding the jumper close to your chest in a tightening grip, "should we go now? or are we just gonna stand here like idiots?" you put on a smile, hoping it would look convincing enough and hide the embarrassing fact that you were nervous. really nervous. first date nervous. you may have had to remind yourself that that little hangout of yours was supposed to platonic. friendly. not romantic. definitely not a date with that boy who's life goal was to win you over because he was desperately in love with you. and he fucking succeeded.

you lost track of time. neither of you knew how many hours had passed or how long you'd been sitting at the shore, lost in conversations about something that may seem so irrelevant to the ears of others, but so important to the two of you. you found comfort in being able to open up to james. it was different than talking to dorcas, or evan, or any of your other friends. it warmed your heart, and in a strange way, it felt like home.

you only realised how late it had gotten when the sky above you turned dark and became covered with stars. finishing that date off with stargazing would have been a delight, but rain decided to make an unexpected visit and ruined your good plans.

you retreated inside together through one of the passageways james and the other three marauders managed to discover, tippy toeing your way through the corridors in attempt to go unseen and unheard. you successfully made it through the portrait hole without alerting a prefect, and you stepped through the door of james' room, sighing in relief. james could finally release the breath he was holding all the way down from the lake. that was one of the rare times he didn't fail at sneaking around without his cloak. you celebrated a tad bit too soon, though - the high pitched voice of a seventh year girl who was supposed to keep the peace at night came from behind you, and you froze in your spot. james gulped, making eye contact with you before turning to face her.

"potter, what on earth are you doing outside at this hour?" james laughed uncomfortably, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he tried to come up with an excuse, "i was uh," he let out a cough, making the prefect eye him suspiciously, "i was using the bathroom."

"why aren't you wearing your pyjamas?"

"i was busy doing, uhm, something else, y'know, forgot to change and stuff."

"and what is that thing that you were doing, exactly?"

"i don't really think you'd wanna know." he grinned in misery, and you had to slap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from making any sounds. the girl's eyes widened as she realised what the younger meant. she turned beet red and massaged her temples in frustration.

"merlin's beard, oh, fuck– shit! get out of my sight, we'll pretend this never happened. shoo, leave."

"sorry." he gave her one last awkward smile before sliding into his room, slamming the door shut and leaning against it. "remind me not to do that ever again."

"why not? that was pretty hilarious." you snickered at his demeanor - the boy's cheeks were flushed red from embarrassment.

"that poor girl probably thinks i was wanking in there." he groaned, waddled away from the door and slumped down onto his bed. the springs in the mattress squeaked from the impact. "if i don't get kicked out this year, then i must be a walking felix fucking felicis." he continued rambling as he began digging through the mess under his bed.

"where are your friends?" you looked around the room curiously. the other marauders were nowhere to be seen. "they're sleeping in the girls dormitory tonight."

you hummed as you took a seat on the floor beside him and eyed some of the items he had scattered around. a couple of chocolate frogs, some crumpled pieces of parchment and quills, a few records, and an empty bag of whatever the hell he got at zonko's next to a small stack of books. "so, what do we do now?" you looked his way, and he shrugged as he ducked under his bed, with only his legs peeking out. the action drew a snort from you. he dusted himself off as he dove back from under the bed.

"can you help me out?" he scratched the back of his head.

"what are we looking for here, exactly?" you questioned as you peeked underneath. "no clue. i'm trying to find something fun we can do."

"have you still got that book about jinxes?" james blinked in surprise. "with the ones i offered to teach you, what, like four years ago?" he gave you an amused smile.

"yeah, figured i should make up for breaking your heart or whatever." and definitely not because you realised that it was a perfect date idea. definitely not.

"i might, if sirius hasn't snatched it." he shrugged and then you both started digging through the dark and dusty mess of books, boxes and smelly socks.

"is this," your hand grabbed onto something which felt like a glass bottle, "muggle alcohol?!" you laughed at the way james' face went pale.

"i swear that's not mine!" he immediately defended himself, reaching for the bottle desperately.

"no need to lie, potter, i've a fair share of that stashed under my bed as well."

by two in the morning, both of you were absolutely pissed, but had no intention of stopping until the bottle was completely empty. so much for the jinxes.

"have you ever shagged somebody?" it was strange. the alcohol seemed to have effects similar to what was known as the veritaserum. so apart from the constant laughing fits it gave you, it made you both feel rather confident. so confident you kept spilling out truths and secrets not even your friends knew. and, well, it made you flirty. especially yourself. just a few hours ago, you were freaked out by the mere thought of getting involved romantically with the boy in front of you, but now you were shamelessly asking each other questions about your love lives. not to mention that you managed to lose your clothes in the process. james was shirtless, and you lost your trousers.

"how dare you ask me such a question?" james gasped dramatically, drawing a snort from you, "i reckon your body count is higher than mine."

"are you calling me a slut, potter?" you asked in amusement, he shrugged lazily with a smirk on his lips, "no, i'm calling you more attractive than myself."

"why thank you, my dear friend," you smiled, feeling another surge of confidence shoot through you after receiving the drunken compliment. friend. that word suddenly sounded strange.

"i haven't." james finally spoke after a few moments of silence. that little soberity you had left was what held you back from smiling.

"me neither." james bit his tongue. he felt like he could breathe normally, at last. you were relieved, and so was he.

"virgins." he let himself fall back onto the floor. you scoffed, snatching the bottle out of his hand.

by the time the sun had started to rise, you were fast asleep - james sitting down with his back up against the wall, and you on the floor with his jumper posing as your pillow. james was lucky that lily and the girls agreed to take in his three idiot friends that night because he would have had to deal with endless teasing if they had been present.

the sound of a loud knock on the door shook you both awake, and your head was met with the bottom of sirius' bed when you tried to sit up. you groaned out in pain, letting your head fall down onto the red jumper that smelled of that specific vanilla-scented bodywash only james used. you hated how you loved it.

"potter!" dorcas' voice pierced through the door from the other side, and the boy groggily sat up, making his way over to the door. the hangover headache was unbearable, but it was something he could have expected as an aftermath of last night's turn of events. the whiskey bottle lied empty on the floor. he wasn't sure how either of you managed it, but he woke up to a clean floor, and no stomach-turning stench of vomit.

"you knocked?" he leaned against the doorframe, his vision a bit blurry as he barely had time to think or grab his glasses after being woken up so suddenly.

"have you by any chance seen y/n?"

he wordlessly opened the door wider, and a very exhausted, hungover looking creature came into dorcas' view.

"what's this?" dorcas smirked, resting her hands on her hips.

"uh, a friendly hangout? what else? wait, where are my trousers?" you murmured, not quite sure of what you were stating as your brain hadn't woken up properly just yet. the piercingly painful headache was not helping.

"friendly, huh?" she eyed you both with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "yes, friendly." james confirmed.

dorcas sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her pointer finger and thumb. she felt a migrane incoming. you tiredly stood up from the cold floor, feeling a wave of pain shoot through your back from lying on such a hard surface. "goddammit, remind me to sleep on the bed next time." you winced, stretching in attempt to soothe the pain.

dorcas left, with marlene trailing along with her (to nobody's surprise), after you and james decided to head down to the kitchen to ask the house elves for some leftovers from breakfast since you missed it. you were lucky that the elves loved you both, and you were given a few pieces of toast as well as some strawberry jam.

you sat in the gryffindor common room, quietly chatting with james. mary and remus joined you and they took their seats in the chairs in the corner of the room, along with sirius who claimed that sitting in between remus' legs was more comfortable than any armchair. you and james, however, were squashed together on the sofa. you recieved several questioning looks from other students. not necessarily because you were a slytherin in the gryffindor common room, but because you sat so close to one another. you were practically sitting in his lap. someone unaware of the status of your relationship would have assumed you were dating. james' friends noticed too, but decided not to say anything, though they couldn't hide those proud smiles that found their ways to their lips.

***

you could not stop thinking about that night for days. and you did everything you could to forget about it. you drowned yourself in school work just to wipe the thought of it out of your mind. hell, you did extra credit. you even bullied pandora into being a model for your paintings for two weeks straight, and went as far as to make yourself accompany barty on his daily adventures where he was essentially begging for detention. but nothing was helping. that was the best date of your life. not like you had many to chose from, but it was the best. shit.

"oh, for fuck's sake! it was not a date! shut up!" you said to yourself, or to be more specific, your malfunctioning brain. you were speed-walking through the corridors, your breath uneven and cheeks red.

you came back from the gryffindor dormitories to the dungeons after another friendly hangout with james. all those things you did to forget about the first one ended up seeming rather pointless. much to your dismay, you realised you can't go too long without seeing him, as it turned out. the boy successfully found his way into your heart after all those years. and you didn't even know why. well, him being james potter should be enough of an explanation. you were visibly flushed. dorcas raised both of her eyebrows once she saw you and then fell back into her pillow, shaking with laughter.

"oh merlin, you are so red." she pointed at your face, giggling uncontrollably.

"great observation skills, meadowes." you responded sarcastically, pulling james' jumper over your head and tossing it onto your bed. yes, you forgot (read: didn't want) to return it, and no, he didn't mind because he wanted you to have it.

"where's everyone?" you quickly changed the subject. you were not ready to talk about whatever the hell your relationship with james was at that moment. you were pretty sure you wouldn't ever be ready to talk about it.

"well, regulus is probably throwing snape into the lake. again. barty and evan are surely snogging somewhere and i think pandora went for a poo, but i'm not sure." dorcas shrugged. her eyes didn't leave you, which obviously meant she was curious about what happened while you were gone. of course she was, she was one of your best friends after all. one of them, just like james. she may have got strange thrills from teasing you, but she cared about you and she made sure you knew that. so did the rest of your friends, even though they were all out and about in that given moment.

you sighed, covering your face with your hands. you felt guilty - not because you were in love with james, hell no, but because it took you so long to admit it to yourself. you never once thought of his feelings or what you've been putting him through for all those years. the first time you felt a bit different while he was by your side, you chalked it up to some weird feelings of admiration and tried to forget about it. but then it just kept happening, and you couldn't simply brush it off and pretend it's nothing. you weren't even sure why you kept lying to yourself; maybe it was because you were so set on the two of you being just friends, maybe it was because you got so used to his presence and his embarassingly obvious eagerness that you couldn't imagine living your life without all of that in it.

tears welled up in your eyes, and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent any sounds from escaping. dorcas was not as oblivious as you thought she might be. she could immediately tell something was wrong and she rushed over to your side, wrapping her arms around you until you were comfortable enough to speak.

"dorcas, i'm in love with him," you cried, clutching her shirt as she held you close to her chest. "i know, darling." she sighed.

"i'm such a bloody idiot."

"i would usually say that's not true, but i don't really think i'd be doing either of us a favour if i denied it." that drew a laugh from you, but you quickly returned to your messy state. dorcas kept rubbing comforting circles into your back until your shoulders stopped shaking and you were able to speak properly without breaking out into tears again.

"am i an awful person?" you quiered, staring into what seemed like a void to you. you looked lifeless, and dorcas sighed, putting her hand on your knee.

"y/n, we both know you aren't. and james knows that too."

"but what if i am? dorcas, i hurt him. i treated him like a puppet and i never took his feelings seriously."

"well, i can't argue that," she bit the inside of her cheek, "but you know, you couldn't have exactly done much about it. you can't just force yourself to love somebody. and some people take a while to come to terms with their feelings, and that's okay, so don't you dare blame yourself for that. he's still in love with you, anyway."

"i could have just not befriended him." you picked at your nails as you spoke.

"that wouldn't have helped him much, would it?"

"it wouldn't make him feel as miserable."

"maybe, but you'd break his heart either way and the poor bloke would probably still feel the same. look, he was annoying as shit, and you may have been a bit, well–"

"evil?" you interrupted. she covered your mouth with her hand. you blinked in surprise and she laughed at you.

"alright, yeah, but y/n, don't you think you could fix that now? you know, do something about it at last?"

"don't make me make you, 'cause you might be the next person to get dunked into the lake. i'm feeling particularly ruthless today." regulus suddenly appeared at the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

"how long have you been standing there?" you spoke once dorcas retrieved her hand.

"just got here, actually."

"as i was saying," dorcas raised her voice and then put a finger over her mouth to motion for regulus to shut up. he raised his hands up in defeat, "do what you need to do."

"you know what's tomorrow though, right?" regulus interrupted once again. you and dorcas exchanged confused glances, but her face shifted into something that seemed more amused than questioning.

***

"oi, potter!" you pushed open the door of the great hall. the laughter around james faded away and everybody's focus was now shifted to you standing at the entrance, but you were looking for one person's eyes in particular.

it didn't take you very long to find them. james' surprised gaze met your rather nervous one, and you made your way towards the gryffindor table, just like he skipped over to the slytherin one four years ago.

you slid into the empty spot next to him and smiled while you were waiting for him to say something. just like last time, you failed to notice the way all of the students around you chuckled as they watched the show unfold. all because of you and james, yet again.

"hello." he sat up straight, holding back a smile that wanted to make its way to his lips.

despite being friends for all those years, you never once had the chance to sit next to each other at lunch, other than that one particular day in your second year. so he took the sudden change in your behaviour as a good sign, especially after the events of the previous night, and the night at the lake.

"can i ask you something?" you leaned forward on the table with your hand supporting your chin. james furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and then his mouth fell open in surprise. he laughed breathlessly, shaking his head at your teasing smile.

"go ahead." he shrugged. his eyes haven't left you since you entered the great hall. it was not making your job easier, but you weren't gonna let that pretty face of his stop you from doing what you came to do.

"wanna be my boyfriend?" you smiled stupidly and it was followed by hollering and wooing from all of the students at the table, including his friends, and your own from behind you, "okay, now sn–" barty was shut up by evan's hand clamping over his mouth before he could finish that. pandora was violently blowing her nose into a tissue already. regulus seemed unphased, even though he wasn't. and dorcas looked like she finally discovered the true meaning of inner peace.

james did a double-take, and then grinned like an absolute idiot. you were furiously tapping your foot against the tiles, but froze when he cupped your cheek with his hand.

"can i kiss you?" you nodded, biting your lip to hold back the squeal that was threatening to escape. james was glowing. he grinned, launching himself forward. his lips finally met yours. your hand instinctively found its way to the back of his neck, pushing him further against you. his lips were so soft, and he kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world. you could feel each other smiling into the kiss, and you broke apart giggling like two fools.

"is that a yes?" you quiered, just in case.

"oh god, yes." then he kissed you again, only to be pulled back by sirius who had just about enough of the pair of you, "some of us are trying to eat, thank you very much."

"sod off." james smacked the back of his head. he could not care less about what anybody else thought at that moment. sirius shook his head as he exchanged a knowing glance with his own lover, and neither of the boys could be bothered to hide their smiles.

"i wanted to do that for six years." james leaned his forehead against yours. you quickly pecked his lips again. "don't worry, i'll make it up to you."

Prologue: Reina Nakou

masterlist next chapter

Reina Nakou, was a mystery to almost everyone who worked with her at the CCG. Her lively—almost childish manners—seemed to drive everyone away from her. And it didn't help that the way she dressed wasn't in any way modest.

Her lilac hair swayed behind her, her eyes glued in front of her. She wore black button up leaving the first two open revealing a bit of her cleavage. A tight blazer that accentuated her big bust, and a tight fitting skirt that hugged her curves. Her 3'' high heels clicked against the concrete floors, manicured nails raking through her hair.

People around the building mumbled about how provocative she was. Her name rolled off their tongue with distaste, rumors of her seducing the higher ups led to her promotion to become a Rank 1 Investigator. They rumored her to be a dumb bimbo who had no skill on the field, but was kept because she was a good fuck once in a while.

"It's a shame, she's got the body—but that's all she's got." They'd pity her.

Not once did they ever seek her out either, not unless some horny co-worker of hers tried to seduce her into bed. She'd always reject every advance,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"So you only whore yourself out with men with money? Just say you're a prostitute. How much is a night with someone like you?" He tried to negotiate with her, not noting her body language.

She was irritated to say the least, her eyes screwed shut as she sighed,

"Look, I'm not a prostitute—and I already told you I'm not interested. So, please, leave me alone." She argued, fists balled up ready to strike the bastard.

She left him outside the street as she walked herself home that night. Occurrences like these were becoming the new normal for her. It also didn't help that she was in the Quinx Squad.

The Quinx Squad made up of five other people (not including herself) were treated like a joke with little to no respect for them. It even tore the reputation of Investigator Akira Mado, daughter of Kureo Mado—a renowned Ghoul Investigator in the 20th ward. 

She was a blonde girl with deep purple eyes, and always acted professional no matter the circumstance. It's what she was known and respected for in the CCG.

Walking back out the building she called the first person that came to mind.

"Hey, Haise. Where are you?"

"By the Main Office with Mutsuki, but we've got bigger issues to deal with-" He sounded out of breath, the sound of wind prevalent in the audio feedback.

"Oh I just passed by there— hey wait I see you. Hold on, I'll come to you." She hung up quickly and ran towards the duo.

"What's wrong—and why are you both so out of breath?" She asked confusedly as she watched them gasp for air.

"Urie and Shirazu are probably pursuing a ghoul without notice." Mutsuki huffed.

"You mean the Torso case? Everyone's been talking about it—specifically Shimoguchi Squad since it's their case-" she was interrupted by a yell,

"You knew and didn't report this-"

"How was I supposed to know they were gonna pursue this fucking guy?! Ugh let's go, you've already read the details, haven't you?"

They nodded at her question and made a run for it.

"Those fucking idiots." She mumbled under her breath as the now trio grew closer and closer to the scene in front of them.

The idiots let their guard down after seemingly "defeating" the ghoul they were attacking which left an opening for the old ghoul to attack those two boys behind their backs. But before his kagune cut through their flesh it was stopped by a quinque making it rebound back to the owner.

"You fucking idiots can't even kill a ghoul correctly and you wanna do missions together." She sighed in disappointment while Haise only looked back at them and lightly scolded them.

"Never let your guard down," he said.

"Investigator Sasaki..." the monotone boy lulled out.

The sharp toothed boy only blanched seeing both of his mentors there; one looking upset and distressed and the other disappointed.

"I'll finish him off." Urie claimed more than offered to do so.

"No. 'The infliction of unnecessary pain against ghouls is strictly prohibited.' It's in the Ghoul Countermeasures Handbook. He could provide us information."  Haise remarked.

"But more importantly I said not to act alone." He warned them.

"But I'm with Urie." Shirazu started.

"He's right." Urie agreed.

"Don't be cute with us now, boy. Don't you know how dangerous it is to act alone?! For fucks sake you're injured." She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin as she pointed a finger in his direction warning him about his behavior.

"But we got results, didn't we?" He mocked them as he took his headphones out blocking their comments.

"Even if we gotten wounded, we would've regenerated eventually."  The monotone boy defended their actions mumbling a little 'takes a bit longer for me but...' under his breath as he walked away.

"If we keep following article thirteen we'll never get rid of ghouls." 

Getting tired of his shitty attitude she walked up to him grabbing him by the shoulder and slapped him. Everyone stood surprised, including the boy. His cheek stood red, a small cut from her nails led to small dribbles of blood flowing down his face from the small cut.

They'd never seen the kind, patient, and childish mannered woman become so serious and fueled by anger before—up until now.

"Get your act together before you regret your actions, idiot." She warned him.

"Let's clean this mess up..."

"That's 902 for squad leader Urie and 850 for Yonebayashi. 920 for Shirazu and 655 for Mutsuki." The doctor spoke as he handed the results to both Haise and Reina.

"Urie and Shirazu have RC factors on the higher side, since they've been using their abilities." He mentioned.

"I think they're using their kagune outside our supervision, should we stop them?" Haise asked worriedly.

"Tell them I said not to have too much fun, after all the quinxes are still a research project in progress..."

"But on the other hand Mutsuki's levels are basically the same as a normal humans. It goes against the original Quinx plan of utilizing ghoul characteristics." He finished.

"Makes sense as to why his progress in training hasn't improved much. He's still weak and slow." She muttered under her breath.

"And he can't control is kakugan. It's activated all the time."

"...well it's better than having no control and high RC levels. Too many RC cells and like a ghoul—he might not be able to eat normally."

…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's alright. Oh we should get going, we have a meeting in a few." Haise waved off awkwardly.

"Alright. Oh and... Investigator Yonebayashi is a bit on the heavy side... tell her to watch herself." He concluded.

Both mentors said their thanks and walked to the exit.

"Seems the ghoul that Investigator Urie from Mado Squad confronted the other day wasn't Torso. Torso's currently an A rated Ghoul, but because no one has actually encountered him in battle, his rank is unknown."

"Maybe it's better they didn't encounter him." Mado said.

"In any case, we're on the Torso case. The Mado Squad needs to their own case." Someone on the Shimoguchi Squad barked out.

"That reminds me... I understand that the Quinxes followed up a tip about a possible Ghouls sighting. Something about growls... what did they find?" A different member of the squad snickered out with a cocky raised eyebrow.

"Stray dogs?! That's what the Quinxes do? They find dogs?!" They bursted out cackling.

Both mentors sat awkwardly watching their fits of laughter and mocking words towards them. Haise could only attempt to laugh with them in hopes to appear less embarrassed about their findings while Reina played neutral and oblivious to their comments.

"Ha-ha... yeah... it was a bit of a let down, but we're glad it wasn't a ghoul." Haise smiled awkwardly.

"Wipe that grin off your face. It seems Investigator Sasaki is something of an idealist..." the squad leader of the torso case  sneered at the way Haise was treating this case so lightly.

"Why wasn't a ghoul of that rating taken care of right then and there? He had no useful information. He's rate B at best."

"Civilian safety is our highest priority. That's what it says in the Ghoul Countermeasures article thirteen. Ghouls need to be dealt with swiftly."

"But clause two says 'the infliction of unnecessary pain against ghouls is strictly prohibited.'" Haise said as a matter of factly only to be turned down.

"I think you're misinterpreting. Clause two doesn't prohibit us from killing ghouls, just causing them 'unnecessary pain.' In other words ghoul investigators are expected to kill them instantly."

His lips puckered up as he continued trying to rile Haise up. Though it wasn't working because the man was too good for everyone, and Reina stayed acting oblivious letting Haise take the fall.

"Or do you sympathize with them... Investigators Sasaki? It's certainly a possibility with you. After all, a ghoul did-" he was interrupted by investigator Mado.

"Investigator Shimoguchi. Training my team is my job. I'll talk to him later." She reassured him.

"Investigator Mado, maybe you're not doing your job well enough. He demanded we hand over our case files the other day. I was shocked—thinking he could just take over our case!"

"Maybe he just got tired of your investigation being conducted at a turtle's pace... and tried to help." 

"What?!"

"Sasaki and I could close that case in ten days. But unfortunately we're busy dealing with Aogiri Tree. Even Sasaki and the Quinxes could get a physical description of Torso in a month."

"You little-"

"Mado, Shumoguchi... that's enough." Take Hirako, leader of the Hilario Squad intervened before the discourse could get more physical.

"The Torso investigation will be handled by both the Shimoguchi Squad and Mado Squad. So please share case files."

The room was silent until Shimoguchi caved in and reluctantly handed over the information.

Mado Squad: 1

Shimoguchi Squad: 0

"Hirako Squad will continue our investigation of the rate ≥S Orochi. That concludes our meeting for today." Hirako ended.

Everyone started gathering their things, all of the Hirako Squad left leaving both the Mado Squad and Shimoguchi Squad alone. Taking this opportunity Shimoguchi spoke up.

"Investigator Mado. A physical description of Torso in a month? I'm looking forward to it." He taunted, obviously thinking they couldn't do it within that 'deadline'.

"Yeah, and when we do, I hope we can look forward to some willing cooperation from your squad in the future." She ended.

"...fine." He said as he left.

A few seconds passed before Haise looked in Mado's direction.

"I'm sorry you had to cover for me, Investigator Mado." He apologized.

"Sasaki." Was all she said before she pulled him by the shoulder and landed a signature punch onto this abdomen.

She looked down at him as he crumbled to the floor by the sheer force of her previous action.

"I don't dislike your gentle temperament, but ditch it when it comes to battles. Your comment on clause two embarrassed me even."

She looked at the other girl who was standing behind Haise.

"As it is that you're already discriminated against more than the Quinxes. Don't defend ghouls. If you want to avoid any more Mado Punches. That kindness... it'll kill you." She turned away.

"We got Investigator Hirako's authorization. Get me a physical description of Torso within a month. I wanna see Shimoguchi's lips quiver in shame. And you," she turned to the lilac haired woman.

"When are you going to apply yourself? You're smarter than you let on, and yet you bring more shame and embarrassment to the Quinx Squad... I expect better from you the next time we meet." She hung her head low as she walked away, heels clicking every step she took until the sound quieted.

...

"Let's get you up. Come on." Reina said as she hauled him up.

He leaned over her shoulder in pain.

"Thanks." He grinned shyly at her.

""Investigators Sa-sa-ki, Re-i-na! Quite a scene in there." Spoke Ito. Another investigator from the Hirako squad.

"Oh, Investigator Ito." Haise acknowledged the man.

"I'll go check up on the rest of the squad, I'll see you at home, Haise. Investigator Ito." She clasped her hands together pushing her breasts together and bowed—taking her leave.

"I'm home!" She yelled once she closed the front door.

"Instructor Nakou? Where's Instructor Sasaki?" Mutsuki asked, his face a bit disappointed to see only her walking up the stairs to the living room.

"He got caught up with Investigator Ito, he'll take a while. Where're the others?" She stretched herself out on the sofa.

"They left to blow off some steam.. I think." He strung off.

"Do you know where they left specifically?" She straightened herself up-right on the couch.

"They wouldn't budge when I asked them." He shook his head in defeat.

"You tried your best, that's what matters most. I'll be in my room if you need me, night, Mutsuki."

"Goodnight, Nakou."

"A physical description of Torso in a month?"

"Yeah."

"A case Shimoguchi Squad is already struggling with in a month?"

"I know I'm asking a lot, but I think it's possible if we all work together. If the quinxes can come together as a group..." Haise remarked.

Shirazu just chuckled out a bit at his words.

"You really are something, Sassan."

"Shirazu..." Reina warned.

"I'm goin' it alone."

"No you're not. Sit your ass back down, kid."

"What's your deal? Got a crush on Sasaki?" Urie countered.

She whipped her head to look at him.

"I don't." She crossed her arms in front of her.

"Sure seems like you do. Always kissing at his feet since you've joined, praising him in every way. Seems like you really like him." He taunted.

She inched closer to the brats' ear. She didn't care for his words, she found them hilarious.

"I don't, but what's it to you? Mad that he's got my attention unlike you? Mad that I'm praising him instead of you? How cute. Maybe it's you who's got a crush on me. You want me to get on my knees and worship you like a god? I can do that."

She peeled herself away from him, fixing her gaze on his face. He was disgusted by her words and upset at what she was trying to imply. She just grinned mischievously and patted his cheek.

"Cheer up, maybe if you put your ego aside and actually thought of someone else other than yourself—you'd earn my attention and respect rather than hearing me berate you like a little puppy."

He just clicked his tongue and brought the conversation back to what it was originally about.

"I'll collar Torso in a month." He started before he made his way out of the meeting room.

Haise tried calling out to him but to no avail, he didn't care. Turning around, Reina looked at Haise's figure and saw him beating himself up for not being able to keep his team together.

"It's not your fault, they're just stubborn." Reina tried to reassure him.

Tooru just looked at them with a worried expression. So far it's only been him and Reina who's been making an effort to actually work together as a team. Everyone else like Saiko, Urie, and Shirazu work alone, or sometimes don't even bother to get up. More than anything, Tooru was losing hope.

"So they insist on acting independently, huh?" Haise started with an ominous tone.

"Fine, I think it's time to show those boys what I'm capable of. The three of us are going to bring in Torso, Mutsuki, and Reina. Before those two do!"

Haise started spewing a lot of things, things she wasn't bothered to really listen to.

"If you're done shouting then maybe we can get started with the actual investigation, Haise." Reina sweatdropped.

"Right. First step: Cochlea."

"Investigator Sasaki. Investigator Mado told me you'd be stopping by." The warden said as he was met with three faces, two of them being more recognizable than the third.

"Why hello, Haisaki." Reina waved at him with a smirk.

"Welcome back, Nakou." He welcomed, his voice void of enthusiasm.

Both Haise and Mutsuki looked between the both of them trying to figure out how they knew each other.

"As I was saying, Cochlea was hit hard when we lost Warden Misaka at the hand of Aogiri Tree. I personally have high hope for the Quinx Squad." Haisaki admitted.

He mumbled a little praise and continued leading us to where we were headed. Mutsuki was a tad bit nervous mainly because they were visiting a prison full of ghouls.

Reina noticed his worrying and hoped that her reassurance would calm him down a bit.

"Hey, don't worry. The walls are made of Quinque steel, and they’re weakened with RC Suppressants.." she scratched her nape.

Sasaki on the other hand just watched the two with a dazed look. There were dark circles under his eyes and small eye-bags that could be seen if you studied his face close enough. She nudged him a bit to wake him up from his little daze and he perked up a bit, seemingly startled for a little until he looked at the girl. She just smiled and nudged her head towards the big door that held who they were scheduled to speak with.

"Well, well, if it isn't Haise and Reina. I was just getting bored." Donato Porpora grinned whilst rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm surprised to see you've sided with the CCG, princess. Hey, where's your commanding investigator, Haise?"

"Akira Mado is on a different case." He put it simply.

"How does it feel to be under the thumb of a female investigator?" The man behind the shatterproof glass asked.

"It doesn't feel so bad when it's the thumb of a brilliant woman. How about you, Father?"

"You brought a new face with you today. Very young and... appetizing." Donato growled out getting as close as he could to Mutsuki with the glass being the only thing separating the two from his bloodlust and insatiable appetite.

Mutsuki could only stare in horror and backed up slowly as he felt himself pale at the SS rated ghoul words. He ended up tripping over his own two feet and fell to the ground looking up at the terrifying Russian ghoul.

"I would like to rip that stomach open at my leisure, and stuff my mouth full of plump organs." Donato’s eyes went wide as he salivated and went on and on about how he'd kill him and eat him up.

"Oh, you! Take it easy on him." Reina scolded the old pastor.

"I apologize." The elder said with a small smile.

"Oh, you! Take it easy on him." Reina scolded the old pastor.

"So... what are you investigating?" Donato asked as if nothing happened moments prior to his question.

"A ghoul that goes by the name Torso." Haise said as he pulled up the information.

The glass separating the prisoner from the investigators then displayed a map of every single crime scene.

"We believe he's using a vehicle to get around since his feeding range is so broad. All victims have been females." Haise explained.

"In addition only their torsos have been taken." Reina added.

The old pastor looked at the girl expectantly to continue. He knew the girl for quite some time, well enough to know that she already knew who the ghoul really was. But she didn't relent.

"I see.. the head is a very important part for a ghoul. Understanding what one is eating enriches the experience. Enjoying the rest while appreciating the face—or perhaps going straight from the head... to each their own." He kept his gaze fixed on the lilac headed girl.

"The head truly is the centerpiece of a meal. It's a single flower as the only garnish to a meal that may seem insipid to humans."

"To show no interest in that flower and to leave it behind—he must either be an awfully picky eater or have a refined palette." Donato put it simply.

Haise was ruminating. He felt as if there was more than just hunger fueling Torso. There was definitely something more and he felt it.

"...or does he feel threatened." Haise began.

"The eyes express emotions—the mouth utters words. A face contains an enormous amount of information. What if he's trying to block all that information... entirely?"

"A ghoul aware of his own powers... afraid of humans.. because-"

"He's blending into human society." The old man finished.

"Concealing his identity as a ghoul... working for a normal business. Most likely some kind of an errand boy. Cleverly fooling everybody around him while being tormented by his boss, the clients... a position that requires familiarity with the streets. For instance a cab driver."

With that everything in Haise's mind went off and memories of Urie submitting hundreds of cab receipts. All along Urie was on the right track, but because of the lack of communication Urie was holding everyone, including himself, back.

"Thank you for the insight, Mr. Porpora." Haise thanked as he left the room leaving Mutsuki and Reina inside.

"Have you told all of them?" Donato asked the girl.

"No." She replied, gathering all the materials left inside.

"When will you?"

"Soon." She hummed.

"C'mon. Let's go, Mutsuki." She waved her hand to signal the boy about their departure.

"Nice seeing you again, Father."

"Instructor Sasaki... why does the CCG keep that man alive?" Mutsuki asked, still spooked and upset between their previous interaction with him.

"When I look into that ghoul's eyes... I'm terrified." He shuddered.

"It's because he's a valuable source of information for the CCG. That's why the Bureau uses him. At least until... and I don't like how this sounds like either, but.. until they get rid of him." He explained the duo trailing behind him.

Though Haise works for the Commission of Counter Ghoul, he doesn't find pleasure or satisfaction in killing them. He's a gentle soul who tried to find the good in almost everyone, even if they are cold blooded convicted killers. He sighed silently in his mind as he looked to his right, Reina walking with a high held head. Meanwhile Mutsuki trailed behind them both with a low strung head.

wc: 3.7k masterlist next chapter

a/n: so that’s the prologue… how we feeling? Honestly idk what I’m doing. I grew bored and this is like the 3rd rendition of this FF. I’m somewhat satisfied with this one enough to post it so bleh. Masterlist has been uploaded!

ps. updates will probably like three posts every month if I’m lucky if not then I’m sorry. Writers block will kick my ass hence why this is the 3rd rendition of the original.

Tag list:

IVE BEEN FED THIS EARLY TODAY YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS GODDDDDDD 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Overlock Stitch Part 2/?

Summary:

Viktor is just trying his best to survive his years as a student at the academy when a girl studying textiles suddenly begs him to let her tailor his uniform. She is right, it doesn't fit, but he isn't in the business of accepting charity from strangers. "Please?" She asks, "It would be fully anonymous on your part and we would both be better off." Then again, but with feeling, "please?" Viktor eyes her again and against his better judgement, presents an undeserved olive branch, "Will you be here tomorrow?" Her smile is so wide it almost makes him want to recoil. He wonders if her cheeks hurt.

Contains: Third person POV, She/Her Pronouns for reader

Word Count: 5,311

Read on AO3

She manages to shove her embarrassment down long enough to get the photos taken, organising them into a neat stack and then leaving them on her worktable for later. Viktor has gone back to not talking very much at all, wordlessly adjusting his stance for her photos but otherwise just peering down at her quietly. His eyes are coolly intelligent and piercing, she has to avoid making eye contact or she completely looses her focus.

Her hands shake when she picks up her pins, sticking a few into the pincushion on her wrist for easier access, "I'll start with your shirt, if that's alright."

Viktor nods and continues watching intently as she takes a tentative step forward and reaches for his wrist. She notices his knuckles tighten when her fingers brush against him, but she tries her best to ignore it. The cuffs on his shirt are a touch too long, so she exhales an even breath out through her nose and folds the fabric of his sleeve up under itself so she can raise the cuff and pin along the seam-line.

Her voice shakes, but talking makes her feel less nervous, "It's best to make all the alterations against the existing seam, that way no one can tell you've had any tailoring done at all." she grabs a few more pins from her pincushion and works to adjust the loose fabric around his elbow, "That's why most of my classmates prefer to do design work, because if you're a good tailor, no one will ever notice you."

Viktor hums at that, it's a pleasant sound. Oddly warm.

Since he doesn't seem to mind her talking, she keeps doing it, "The forearm of your shirt fits pretty well, but the upper arm will need some work. Just-" her brow furrows as she pins along the seam all the way up his arm, "Just try to stay still, I haven't um, I haven't had much of a chance to do alterations on a person."

"Ah, I am a test subject, then?"

She isn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke, but it makes her laugh and she lets it, "I suppose so? Most of the other students I've done work for only ask for cosmetic alterations, minor, usually. I've had plenty of practice on mannequins though, so just don't breathe and it'll be fine."

This time Viktor laughs, a gentle chuckle the rises up and out from his chest. Hearing it is like an achievement in and of itself and she can't help the shy smile that tugs at the corners of her lips.

"Hey, no laughing either or you'll get a pin in the ribs."

He exhales an amused breath and then says, "Yes, of course, my apologies."

She moves onto his second arm, feeling much more confident this time. Part of her wants to express just how grateful she is that Viktor even agreed to meeting with her today, but anxiety churning in her gut worries about coming on too strong, too desperate. So she keeps her mouth shut, adjusting his cuff and then pinning up the length of his arm the same as the previous.

"There." She says, quietly admiring her own handiwork, "Much better already. Um, I will need you to hop down from the platform for just a moment, I won't be able to reach your shoulders while you're up there."

As before, Viktor follows her directions quickly and without complaint, she does notice the way he braces his cane on the floor before stepping down and tries her best to avert her eyes when his brows draw together in what is clearly a wince of pain. She resists the urge to apologise again, because she gets the sense he doesn't like when she does that, even though the word sorry escapes her more often than breath does. Like it's perpetually waiting in her lungs.

"Thank you." She says instead, which is marginally better. Viktor just nods in response.

Her heart jumps a little when she steps towards him again, assessing his waistcoat first. It's too long, and loose around his chest. It will need quite a bit of work, and presuming the shirt underneath is the same size, it will need just about the same amount. She hums, eyeing the upward jut of his left shoulder, debating if she can account for his uneven stance when pinning just to save herself from having to ask any invasive questions. In the end, she decides against it, getting the job done properly will be worth the momentary embarrassment. No matter how much her hands shake at the thought.

"I'll need your shoulders at neutral when I'm pinning, or it will end up wonky." She begins shakily, wringing her hands together. Then, with trepidation she adds, "will you be alright to stand without your cane for a few minutes?"

Viktor tilts his head back and forth, weighing the question before giving her a curt nod.

"Okay!" She says, relieved that he didn't seem at all offended by her question and reaching out to take the cane from him.

The moment her fingers brush against it, Viktor yanks back from her, every muscle in his body tensing, his eyes fiery and jaw set in a challenging line. The inhale and exhale of his breath is sharp, a furious punch of his chest and the grip he has on the cane turns his knuckles white.

She has no idea how to break the thick and painful silence, her hand still half raised in the air because she is worried that even lowering it back to her side might seem like a threat. Her mouth opens and closes, as she tries to figure out what she has done wrong, what to say or do to fix this. The arch of his brow is dangerous, threatening, but with her eyes locked to his in a frozen panic, she can't help but notice how pretty their colour is. Even if the intensity of his gaze makes her nearly want to turn and run from the room.

"Never take it from me." He hisses between gritted teeth, "You Pilties think that you can just take whatever you want whenever you want, but you cannot ever take this from me, do you understand? Never."

Her heart thumps wildly in her chest and she suddenly remembers yesterday when he asked if she thought he was dangerous. He is all sharp angles, looming over her with a posture that screams violence. But he doesn't move, he just keeps on staring at her and maybe because she takes the time to look, she thinks that she sees something like fear hiding behind his eyes.

She takes a deep breath and tries to keep her voice even when she says, "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

He doesn't offer false platitudes, doesn't tell her that it's fine, or that she doesn't need to apologise. Doesn't insinuate that there will be no harm done so long as she offers him a favour in return for his silence, instead he bites a quick, "Do not do that again." and it's equal parts refreshing and terrifying.

"Yes, I won't. I'm sorry"

The tension leaves his shoulders a little, but she can tell he is still wound tight, "Go get the stool." He says quickly, inclining his head towards the tall stool by Eliza's project. She does as asked, bringing it over and placing it next to him. He leans the cane against it, well within arm's reach. It's only now, when the intensity in the room has begun to dissipate, that she realises exactly what she did when she snatched his cane from him. It's not just an object, it is his mobility and she had just tried to take it away without permission.

She picks at her cuticles, once again getting the sense that a plethora of apologies will not have the desired effect, not matter how desperately she wants to let them loose. Instead she takes a deep breath in through her nose and endeavours to prove that she is at least capable of not making the same mistake twice, "Is it alright if I get back to doing the alterations?" she asks quietly, adding on a quick, "You can leave if you want, I'd understand if you did."

"No. I'd rather you finish what you started." Viktor answers, short sharp and polite enough but no politer.

Relief rushes through her, not an irreparable mistake, then. She's so glad. Even though she offered for him to leave, she has no idea what she would have done if he had. So she doesn't bother wasting time on hypotheticals, instead she clamps a couple of pins between her teeth and positions herself on top of the platform behind Viktor to get a better look at his waistcoat, "Stay still, just like before." she slurs around the pins in her mouth, quickly working to adjust the seams across the width of his shoulders. He needs a good inch removed before the hemline sits at the appropriate spot on his hips and she is quick to pin both sides evenly.

"Much better." She says quietly to herself, "Would you mind taking your waistcoat off now? Then I can pin your shirt and you'll be free to stand with your cane again."

He doesn't reply, just starts carefully removing the garment, being sure not to poke himself with any of the pins on the sleeves of his shirt. When removed, Viktor hangs the waistcoat on the same stool where his cane is resting and then returns to standing straight.

"You're okay to keep standing a little longer, right?" She ventures cautiously, "You aren't in any pain?"

Viktor scoffs, "I am always in some degree of pain." one of his hands waves through the air in a vague gesture, "Though if it ever becomes noteworthy, I will be sure to inform you."

A hot lick of shame travels up the length of her spine and she can't help wondering why she had even asked such a stupid question. Her mouth begins to form the shape the word sorry-

"I would prefer you did not apologise." Viktor says before she gets the chance, "If you were to apologise for all the things wrong with me we would be here all day."

"Oh." Is all she is able to say. She doesn't much like his assertion that there is something wrong with him, multiple somethings, even, but she can't even begin to formulate a sentence that could properly convey that without making things worse somehow. So she doesn't bother trying, "I won't then."

Viktor nods once, "Good."

She wordlessly begins pinning the excess fabric on his shirt. His shoulders are quite broad, at least proportionally, it's honestly a shame that he has been walking around in such an ill-fitting uniform for so long. She tries not to think about it too much, but even now she can tell that he will look quite captivating in properly tailored garments.

It's only when she steps back down from the platform and returns to his front that she realises how much of a relief it was standing behind him. Viktor's eyes unsettle her with their summer-gold brilliance. His gaze is so sharp and intelligent that it feels like her insides are being slowly unspooled anytime she gains enough confidence to meet it.

"Okay, your shoulders are all done." She says quietly.

Viktor quickly grabs his cane again, settling into what is clearly a more comfortable stance. She doesn't talk much when she works on pinning the sides of his shirt, only once to ask him to put his waistcoat back on so she can pin that too. Then twice to make sure he stays still while she pins up the side of his ribcage. As close as she is standing, she can hear the rasp of his breath in his chest, the way it shudders out from him on each exhale. She really isn't used to tailoring clothes for strangers, her hands shake from the proximity and her heart thunders in her chest when she accidentally brushes her knuckles against the side of his waist.

"Sorry." She mutters before she can stop it.

Viktor sounds tired when he replies, "Please just be careful."

"O-Of course, sorry"

"And stop apologising."

She flinches, "Yes, sorry-"

Viktor says her name, it's the first time he has done it, she half thought he may have forgotten what it was. She pauses in the middle of adjusting his waistline, peering up at him. They are very close to each-other, so close that she can see how well bitten his lips are, notice the length of his eyelashes.

"You are like a frightened little mouse, has anyone ever told you that before?" He asks.

She feels her cheeks flushing, "Y-Yes, though never so kindly."

Viktor hums, she is close enough that she hears the sound rumble through his chest, "Are you nearly finished?"

"Oh! Yes! Nearly!" She quickly returns her hands to task, "Just a pin or two on this side and then I can move onto your trousers."

The quiet returns like a blanket, the silence awkward and heavy. She feels the urge to break it, to talk aloud to herself just to fill the void with something. She doesn't instead she just chews on her lower lip as she finishes adjusting the seams under Viktor's left arm.

"Done?" He asks.

She nods, "Yes, thank you. Would you mind hopping back up onto the platform? Just so I don't have to lay down on the floor to get at your ankles."

Mercifully, that makes Viktor smile, just a little. It's barely a tug at the corners of his mouth, but she drinks it down anyway. He doesn't offer a response, though, just returns to his spot on the platform and watches her intently as she grabs a few more pins and sticks them into her pincushion.

"Your trousers do seem especially loose." Now that his waistcoat sits at the right spot she can see his belt tugged tightly around his hips to keep them from falling down, "Could you take your belt off? I'll start there."

Viktor seems apprehensive at first, but then does as asked. He lays the belt over the seat of the stool he was resting his cane against before. Without the belt, the waistband of the trousers gape almost wide open, many many inches of extra fabric. She tries not to think too much about how slim his hips are, swallowing thickly as she begins to adjust the sides and back of the waistband so it will at least stay up.

Nervously, she starts talking, "Um, technically, the uniform trousers should be worn with braces, not a belt. We should have a couple laying around in the back of the workshop, we have a lot of abandoned accessories." She sucks in a breath as she pins the right side of his trousers tight, the base of her palm brushing against his protruding hipbone, "They probably won't be the right colour, but so long as you don't take off your waistcoat no one will notice."

Viktor scoffs, lifting his right arm to give her more space at his hip, "And what would I owe you?"

She peers up at him, he has his head turned away from her, his jaw tight, "Nothing! I promise! People just leave them behind and don't come back for them, we even have a couple from the theatre department that they don't need anymore." she exhales an uneven breath and starts working to adjust the seams down the side of his thigh, "And I suppose if someone does notice, I can just tell them I lost it, it wouldn't be a big deal."

Viktor doesn't respond for a long time, she makes it all the way down to his knee before he does, "I suppose I will take them, then."

She lets out a relieved sigh, "That's good. I'm glad."

He stays quiet again while she pins down the rest of his leg. She does note that he favours the left one, so she is very careful when manipulating the fabric on his right. He shifts uncomfortably once or twice, but doesn't tell her to stop and he did promise to tell her if his pain was noteworthy, so all she can do is take him at his word and assume that he is fine. When she is at his ankles, she quickly grabs her low stool and places it at the edge of the platform to make the last few pins a bit easier.

She eyes the tight fabric at his calves, now that the seams have been adjusted, chewing on her lower lip when she realises that an idea has struck and there is no way to tell if it is a good one or a bad one. Inserting the last pin at the cuff on his right leg, she inhales a deep breath and forces herself to remember why she is here.

"Do you have trouble getting your trousers on and off?" She blurts before she can regret it.

Viktor glares down at her, "Excuse me?"

She panics, "The ankles of your trousers will be much tighter when I finish the alterations, if you already struggle to get them on and off, it will be far more difficult now and- and I think I have something I can do to help. If that's okay?"

"I agreed to let you tailor my uniform." Viktor says firmly, "Nothing more."

Her pulse rushes, the words just keep coming, "I just want to help, I promise! My father lost an arm in a skirmish seven years ago and I started modifying his clothing for him, first just for appearances and then eventually for convenience, to make it easier for him to undress on his own." She explains, hoping that her reasoning will make more sense to him now, that he will understand that she isn't trying to mock him or pity him.

Viktor scowls, and it is not the reaction she was expecting, "A skirmish." He bites, his posture suddenly looming and sharp all over again, "Your father must be an enforcer, then."

She can hear the sound of her own heart beating in her ears, her throat turns dry as she peers up at him from the floor, trying to meet the roiling gold fury in his eyes. A familiar lie dances on the tip of her tongue, years of practice make it difficult to ignore, but because he isn't from here, because he doesn't offer candy-coated lies, maybe just because he is Viktor, she finds herself for once telling the truth.

"A skirmish with an enforcer." She corrects, and the words feel clunky and uncomfortable in her mouth.

For a beat they just stare at each other, Viktor eyes are suddenly wide and vulnerable, darting frantically across her face as if something in her appearance will make it all make sense. Her hands tremble where they are still gripping the fabric of his trousers and she can almost hear the echo of her heartbeat reverberating through the room. It's a weight off her shoulders, to have told someone, after years of lying and pretending. She isn't sure Viktor understands the significance of it, but she hopes he does.

Viktor's mouth opens and closes a few times, struggling to find his words. Eventually, he says, "Your father, he's…" the words from the undercity go unsaid, but the weight of them still hangs oppressive in there air, she feels like she might choke on them.

"Yes." She answers, averting her eyes, "Y-You can't tell anyone, you know what the people here are like, they'll eat me alive and I'm not-" not brave like you are, she thinks, but that feels far too bold, far too personal, "I just want to finish my studies in peace." Is what she says instead.

~~~

Peering down at her now, Viktor realises that everything begins to make sense. The way she cowers like a mouse as if the world itself is a cat out to get her, the way she desperately tries and fails to fit in, the fact that she dared to speak to him at all, even if it looks like she is preparing to bolt every time she does it.

"Have you even been to Zaun?" He asks, though it is more of a test than a question.

Her brow creases and he expects her to answer what's Zaun? but instead she just says, "No, at least not since I've been old enough to remember."

It was an easy test, but even still, Viktor hadn't really expected her to pass it, "We are not similar at all then, are we?"

She looks thoughtful, for a moment, chewing on her lower lip, "Not in present company, no." she inclines her head to the door, "Out there though, we might as well be neighbours. The line they draw it's-"

"Definitive." He finishes for her, "You are either on one side or the other, Pilties are not big fans of grey area. At least, not when it comes to Zaun."

The expression she offers him next is half a smile, half a wince, "Yeah, they aren't"

Viktor isn't sure how he is supposed to feel about her, part of him rushes upward from somewhere deep in his stomach, desperate to fall to his knees and plead for her to show him something, anything that reminds him of home, to let her shaking hands sink into his chest and hold his heart tightly between them. The other part, the intelligent part, the part he actually has control over, begs him to not break his composure. She isn't like him, not really. Her breath is even and clear, her lungs expand and recede in great, nervous gulps that his own would stutter and rattle the whole way through. Aside from her nervous disposition, unkempt hair and overall mousy appearance, there is nothing that truly others her from the other topsiders. That makes the third part of him, the loudest part, want to bare his teeth, to grab her by the throat and shake her for daring to share his heritage but nothing else, for having working lungs and working legs, for having anything to hide behind.

"Viktor?" She whispers quietly, her brows pinched together in what he can only interpret in concern.

He makes a choice then, a middle ground. Gripping tightly to the handle of his cane, he asks, "What kind of, help were you offering, exactly?"

She brightens just a little, he really only notices it in her eyes, the way they shine.

"I can alter the inseam of your trousers for you, so that you can undo them at the ankle." She jumps from her stool and moves quickly over to her worktable, digging quickly through an open sewing kit, "I have snap fasteners, they're easier to undo than buttons and I can very easily hide them in your inseam, no one would ever see them, but it should make things easier for you."

She steps back over to him, slowly and holds out a small metal tin. Inside Viktor can see a collection of small rings, various pieces that must combine together to make the fastener.

"Show me." Viktor finds himself responding, pushing the tin back towards her, "Where would they go?"

She blinks at him again, a nervous little smile tugging at her lips that makes him feel slightly better, "Y-Yes! Of course!" She crouches down and reaches out with a finger, running it gently up the inside of his right leg, stopping halfway up his calf. His skin prickles at the sensation, even through the fabric of his trousers, "So it would be from the cuff up to here, I'll loosen the seam on the outside of the leg to offer more space on the inside, unpick the inseam and add a series of snap fasteners the whole way up. They just snap shut, and all you should need to do to undo them is tug on either side of the fabric." She grabs the inside of his trousers, tugging quickly twice, "Just like that."

Even loose as they are, it has been a struggle to work his leg in and out the ankles of the trousers. Especially now that the weather has turned cold. He shifts his foot slightly, feeling how tight the tailoring will leave the garment and feels a familiar angry ache building in his gut, picturing himself struggling into his own clothes every morning. He peers down at her again, at her wide, expectant eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, with nerves or with something else, her poorly styled hair coming loose from it's up-do and strands of it are hanging loose around her face. Nothing in her expression is mocking, or pitying, if anything she looks hopeful.

"Would it…take much longer?" He asks.

Her smile is back in full force, the one that makes her mouth seem too big for her face, the achingly bright one, "Not at all! Maybe an extra hour at most."

Viktor darts his eyes to the clock on the wall, he would like to get some studying done today, "If I return before sunset, would it be finished?"

"Yes, yes! Absolutely it would." She lets out a laugh that sounds nearly exhilarated, "Thank you so much for trusting me, it means- well, I guess it means everything."

It might just have been so long since he has seen someone so passionate about what they do, but a smile tugs at the corner of Viktor mouth, unbidden, "Now, now. I never agreed, did I?"

Her mouth snaps shut, eyes widening.

He laughs and puts a stop to her fretting before it starts, "Don't worry, I was just teasing, you have my permission."

She laughs now, loudly, inelegantly. It's only halfway through her fit that she catches herself, hiding her mouth behind a hand, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm just so relieved." she takes a deep breath, holding a hand to her chest to calm down, "Thank you again, I mean it."

Viktor shrugs, "Eh, I did not really do anything."

She snorts then and Viktor finds himself enamoured by it, "You let me do some actual alterations for once, it's important to me at least." Then, as if remembering something, her eyebrows jump, "Oh! just a second." She darts back over to the sewing kit and returns with what Viktor recognises as a seam-ripper, "I'll quickly undo the inseam on your trousers now, that way it will be easier for you to take them off before you leave."

She returns to her stool, shuffling forward so she can more easily get her hands between his legs. Viktor turns his head to the side, finding the proximity easier to deal with if he doesn't have to actually look at her. He's already learned that she talks when she is nervous, so he isn't surprised when she starts speaking again, but oddly, he finds he doesn't mind it much at all.

"I started using the snap fasteners for my father, because they are much easier for him to do up and undo with only one arm. My mother used to help him with his clothes, and she didn't mind doing it, but his independence meant a lot to him and I wanted to help."

Curiosity gets the better of him and Viktor asks, "Did he tell you much about the undercity?"

"A lot, actually." He feels her moving to pick some stitches further up his leg, "I think he misses it, but he hasn't had much of a chance to go back. My mother works and I'm studying here, it just, makes it easier if we don't really talk about it."

Viktor feels himself bristle at that, the angry part of him that is always so loud rears its ugly head again, "Do you have no pride in your heritage?" he spits, and only half regrets it.

She laughs bitterly, inclining her head towards the door again, "Not nearly enough to make it worthwhile facing all of them "

Viktor scoffs, "You're a coward, then."

"I know" She replies quietly, "and you aren't."

Viktor is surprised how much he likes that assertion. He has heard from a few misguided, well meaning topsiders how brave he is for being here, but the meaning is different. How brave he must be, they say, to live the way he has for so long, how fucking brave he is to walk around with a limp and a cane, how hard his life must have been.

That is not what she is saying and he knows it. How brave you are, she says, to put up with all this Piltie, obfuscating, bullshit, day after day. How brave you are to not have already ripped their throats out with your teeth, to not have set this entire building on fire. That is what she thinks he is brave for and that feels good.

"All done." She says softly, unpicking the last stitch, "Just, um, just be careful not to tear it, or poke yourself with any of the pins." she gestures to a section of the room closed off by a curtain, "You can change in there and just leave the uniform with me on the way out."

~~~

She watches silently as Viktor walks to the changing room, grabbing his bag on the way and slinging it over his shoulder. Once he is out of sight, she takes a long, deep breath in through her nose and tries to calm her breathing. This could have gone better, but it could also have gone a lot worse. She sighs, peering shyly at the curtain Viktor is changing behind. One day she will be able to give something back, re-open her father's shop, do something that matters something more than frivolities, more than lace and silk.

Quietly, she starts tidying her leftover pins and returning them to her workbench. Then she removes the canvas cover from her sewing machine, it's much fancier than the one she has at home, not as loud as she works the pedal. She had gotten so used to the way her father's old machine would stick, how it would sometimes catch and tangle on loose threads. This newer thing, she keeps waiting for it to bite her, for it to realise she is different the same way her classmates did so quickly.

Her head snaps at the sound of the curtain being pulled back, and the sight of Viktor emerging in something other than his uniform. Whatever he is wearing clearly wasn't purchased in Piltover, it's mostly brown and green, with a few purple touches here and there. More importantly than any of that, other than the trousers being a few inches too short, it fits him perfectly. Her eyes dart to the narrow dip of his waist, the broad stretch of his shoulders. She had been right, he is captivating.

All she can do is watch as he steps back over to her, holding out the neatly folded pile of his uniform, "Just before sunset, yes?" he clarifies.

She swallows, taking the pile from him, "Y-Yes, that's right. I'll be here."

"Alright." Viktor leans down just a little, enough that his eyes meet hers, "Then I will see you later, Myšičko"

Her heart thunders behind her ribs and she clutches his uniform tightly to her chest, watching as he turns on his heel and heads back out the door, desperate to ask what he had just called her, but too shocked to get the words out.

The door clicks shut behind him and she hopes not just to see him later, but to see him again and again and again.

This was the sweetest, most tooth rotting fluff ever omg. Kicking my feet in the air and punching it. The flirting is what got me cause omg they’re so into each other I can’t.

“‘You’re pretty clumsy you know… always tripping… it’s a real hazard.’ She hadn’t tripped in years.”

OH IM SWOONING

“His eyes half lidded and staring down at her soft lips.”

AGAHGAHAHZUSHWVSKDIWNWB. Safe to say this broke me. 😭

Terrible Lies

I’ve never posted on Tumblr before and I don’t write a lot so apologies for any mistakes! Don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. I’m open to comments and requests!

Cross posted on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61937722

The first time their hands grazed, it was purely by accident… possibly. Years ago when their partnership was still fresh and the idea of working near someone new was starting to bud, his fingers had brushed against hers while she handed him a wrench. He broke his steady gaze from the metal object he was tinkering with to look at where his fingers had made contact. He opened his mouth to say something but then furrowed his brows and closed his mouth. After a moment he said, “You should be more careful.”

Her lips parted with wide eyes and a soft smile forming at his humor. “Yes… it would be a real shame if I dropped it. I could have broken something.”

He hummed in agreement, nodding to the spotless floor.

He tried to shake the feeling of the softness of her skin to no avail. And so the habit began, the “accidental” and very frequent touches. They continued the habit of his hand slowly brushing against the bottom of hers when she handed him anything but it slowly morphed into other acts.

Over time their little touches became second nature - evolving with their relationship. She was standing on a chair and his hand rested against the small of her back. She peeked down at him and smirked. He looked right back at her and said, “You’re pretty clumsy you know… always tripping… it’s a real hazard.” She hadn’t tripped in years.

“You’re absolutely right.” She said as a matter of factly, “I don’t know what I’d do without your support!” She chuckled. A sound so soft that his breath hitched in his throat. Taking a swallow his eyes locked on her back where his fingers splayed.

Soon to follow were more touches, a gentle hand came to rest in between his shoulder blades one day, “Viktor! You’re slouching, you know that’s not good for your posture.” She said feigning concern. His back brace prevented him from slouching which he knows she can feel under his vest and shirt.

“That is very thoughtful.” He said earnestly.

“Isn’t it? You know I want the best for you”

His lips quirked up at the way her hand trailed to brush against the back of his neck when she moved away. Viktor briefly glimpsed her covering up a smile at her desk.

And then there were the late nights. Long hours spent in the lab, going over formulas, revising blueprints and tinkering with Hextech, often turned into leisurely walks home together - purely to ensure her safety and nothing else. On one night, her arm slipped into his and said, “The topside is such a dangerous place,” her voice laced with concern and a small frown tugging at her brows. He looked down at her face and saw the corners of her lips quirked up.

“Much more dangerous than the Undercity.” He said without missing a beat.

“Yes, I’m so glad that you’re here. I think someone could jump out and grab me if I were alone.”

“You would be at a great risk without someone to hold on to.” He said while nodding his head to get the point across as they walked through undoubtedly the safest area of Piltover. His mind halted at the warmth of how natural her arm fit into his.

On one evening when he was about to walk her home, he slowed his pace and said, “Hmm, the weather is dreadful to be walking in. At this rate our shoes will be flooded.” She looked up at the clear sky and frowned, shielding her hair with her free hand.

“We should hurry to your apartment.” She said as they took their time.

At first she took his bed while he took the couch, and then the next night she took the couch while he slept in his bed. It became a ritual to go straight to his apartment rather than hers that was all the way across town. It was truly a miracle that she had been making the trek to her own apartment this whole time. She thanked her stars that he was kind enough to let her stay with him more often than in her own bed. She made sure to stop just next door to grab some of her toiletries though.

One evening, he was resting in bed watching her braid her hair before she retired for the night. He watched the rhythmic motion of her fingers weaving silky strands together and felt a jolt in his chest. Before he could stop himself he quietly said, “It’s a little cold, don’t you think?”

She rubbed her toasty feet together, “You’re right. There’s definitely a chill in here. I guess we can share the bed if we keep to our own sides.”

He hastily agreed, “That would be the most respectable thing to do.”

He struggled with the knowledge that he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears not knowing that she was going through the same struggle. She was glad that the dimness of the room blanketed her flaming cheeks while he was grateful that the moon shone on her face enough to tell that she was blushing for him.

“This cold sure isn’t letting up is it?” She whispered staring into his golden eyes.

“Bitterly cold.” He said without hesitation.

“Freezing” her breath tickled his face as she scooted closer

“Unbearable” he murmured, his arm brushing against her waist. The crickets chirped outside, louder with the open window allowing for the summer breeze to cool off his room.

Every touch came with a reason. That was the most sound thing to do in any scenario. It would be very irresponsible to touch a coworker for no reason.

Tonight was different. The pull between them was so taught that they could no longer skirt around what was happening between them.

As they worked late into the night, the tension between them seemed to settle heavier and heavier with each passing moment. She felt his eyes on her and turned to meet his stare. His eyes narrowed at her lips.

“Your lips are chapped.” His tone infused with something deeper. His eyes quickly flitted from her eyes down to her mouth.

“Are they?” She felt like she was out of breath from the look on his face.

“Yes, they are so chapped that they are practically cracking. You should probably do something about that.”

“That would be a real tragedy. How would I go over plans with you and Jayce?” She said in a worried tone, her hand coming up to brush over them lightly - smooth and velvety, and she gasped, “Yes, you’re right - they’re very chapped.”

“I’m sorry to say so.” He said softly leaning forward.

“It would be a shame if they bled.” She said just as softly with a teasing smile.

“Disastrous.” He was leaning forward, “You wouldn’t be able to talk for days.”

“I should probably find something to cover them.” Her gaze fixed on his lips, “I just ran out of lip balm though and the market is surely closed by now.”

“That’s a real shame… covering them has to be the only solution.” His eyes half lidded and staring down at her soft lips.

She nodded, her nose brushing against his, barely mumbling, “Mhm.”

Their words stopped with gentle breaths against their faces. She looked up at him through her lashes and let them flutter closed at his proximity. His hand came up to rest on her nape, thumb brushing the juncture where her jaw meets her neck. Their lips met in a slow kiss. Moving gently together with a hesitation that deepened into an unmistakable pull.

When they parted, breathless and flushed, she whispered “Well… that solves the problem for now.”

“It’s only practical.” He whispered.

Chapter 5: Let it Rain Blood—Refrain

previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

"This is the club where the Nutcracker has recently been spotted."

"It's kinda fun."

"The crowds making me sick”

"I think we- no- I think I'm outta place here."

"Nah, you look cute, Shirazu." Reina smacked his shoulder and winked.

Instead of taking the compliment to heart he just grumbled about how horrible he looked in feminine fashion. But she didn't blame him, he did look out of place—for the wrong reasons.

Shirazu had decided to wear a plain strapless bodycon dress, a cardigan thrown over top of it—with a zebra print scarf wrapped around his neck. His makeup looking all bright—clumps of mascara sticking to his eyelids. His hair brought up into a side drill ponytail.

Meanwhile the rest of them had worn calmer outfits, soft flowey dresses, soft makeup, modest clothing—nothing too out there. And yet here he was standing out like a sore thumb. Though he swore it was because of his height—it wasn't.

"The difference isn't your height. Now shut up, and focus on the mission at hand." Reina smacked his arm and left to talk with Haise.

"Hey."

"Hey.."

"I noticed you weren't paying attention during the briefing the first time around." She looked up at him worriedly, "what's on your mind?"

"It's.." he sighed.

"Promise you won't laugh at me?" He smiled down at her.

"You know I wouldn't, Haise." She grinned.

He chuckled and looked at the dance floor, his arms falling behind his back after tucking the white wig behind his ear.

"I took the rest of the squad to this amazing cafe, I mean it was filled with amazing decorations, books, it felt so... comforting.."

She looked at his face, his eyes reminiscing the warmth of the said café, his eyes sparkling under the vivid lights. His lips quirking up into a soft smile.

"We sat down and got served by this beautiful... stunning.. woman—"

"Hmm, someone's got a crush." She laughed at him.

"You promised you wouldn't laugh!" He whined embarrassedly.

"Too late for that, lover boy. Now what's she got to do with it?"

"She uhh.. she served us our coffee and when I took a sip of it—it—it... it felt so... familiar.. like I've always known this exact taste my whole life, but this was the first time I've ever visited... the place." His smile dropped into a frown, his eyebrows furrowed, hands balled up behind him.

"It felt like I was.. home for the first time since.."

"I know. It's been a long time since we both felt.. at home. Even with the so called 'home' we live in, it's just a prison we're bound to. Its nothing like—"

"Hey, Sassan!"

Both mentors turned to the boy calling out to his mentor.

"I think the Nutcracker's evaluating someone." He whispered, pointing at the corner she was seen talking to someone in.

Just then the girl stopped talking and pondered the idea.

"This isn't good.. that girl might go with the nut. If the nut gets to her, she may be taken to a different location."

...

"Sassan, Nana. About Saiko.. I think you're both too easy on her. Is.. there.. a reason?"

Looking up at the older man she waited for him to answer first. Haise looked down at the ground and thought back to old memories.

"Saiko's... mother left her father and took her and her brother with her. She opened up a bar with help from her boyfriend, but things didn't go well." He paused.

"..Saiko and her brother were sent to the CCG Junior Academy because tuition was cheap. She never wanted to become an investigator in the first place."

"When the time came to choose a career path, she still had no intention of becoming a ghoul investigator. Then the Junior cadets were given a Quinx aptitude test, of the six who passed, Saiko was by far the most suitable subject."

"When her mother found out there'd be compensation she immediately agreed to the procedure. The risk didn't seem matter to her mother—that's what I was told." He turned to look at the boy and acknowledged that he was her mentor for the squad, so that she could do her job, but he felt compelled to doing his job knowing that this wasn't what she wanted to do in life.

"I hesitate to lay more on her than I have to when she can't be motivated."

"Guess having parents doesn't mean being happy. She's the only one with either parent close by." He sighed.

"Both of Urie's are gone. Tooru's family was killed by ghouls. My dad's—my mom's around somewhere, but.. as long as we're in that house, I think we gotta do our jobs!! She's just bein' lazy!" He yelled frustrated that there was such a simple solution that was being overlooked.

"If she's hurting for money, she can work... she should cut ties with her mom."

"Maybe..."

"No, she should!!"

"I don't think it's that simple as you think it is, Shirazu." Reina whispered knowing he didn't hear anything over the loud music.

"H-hey, Sassan? If you regain your memory... are you.. going to quit the commission? You too, Nana... since you're both..."

"Since we're both what?"

"You know.." he brought his hands up and put his pointer fingers together, hinting that he thought they were dating.

"W-wait a second. Me and Haise aren't.. you think we're..!?" She screeched out horrified.

"Me and Reina aren't—"

"Wait really?! This whole time I thought the two of you were—"

"Oh, god, no! Not that there's anything wrong with Haise, but he's like a brother! Ew." She cringed as he just watched and laughed at her dramatics.

"To answer you question, Shirazu, I won't quit." Haise reassured the boy who looked at him with a wavering smile

Just then a loud laugh erupted from the other side of the club.

"I like your hair!! It's cute!" Mutsuki a voice rang out surprising the person he was talking to—which was none other than the Nutcracker.

"Is he drunk?" A pull at Haise's dress pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked down at Saiko.

"What is it, Saiko?"

"I think Mutsi had something to drink. He reeks of alcohol." She recalled the unpleasant smell on him.

"Looks like that'll be one hell of a hangover for him tomorrow." Reina laughed.

"He's coming over!"

Mutsuki ran over to the group and greeted them with a salute before announcing that he successfully earned a job from the Nutcracker. His words slurred as his eyes focused on Haises before blinking away from the older man's gaze, and turning to drag both Saiko and Shirazu with him to the dance floor leaving both mentors by the wall.

They watched as they shouted, complained, and enjoyed themselves without worrying about their jobs, and instead focusing on being the children they still were at the moment. Both Haise and Reina admired them from a far, their faces smiling sadly as they took in this innocent moment.

And now, there she was. Sitting in front of one of the members of the Washu clan. Matsuri Washu. She's always hated him ever since she first met him. To be honest, he gave her the creeps whenever they spoke. She couldn't explain it.

Joining her was Juuzou and Haise, running the meeting was the damned Washu man. So far she'd done nothing but pick at her nails and pretende to read over the so called documents he gave the trio. She didn't care for what he had to say, plus Haise was there. Surely he would fill her in.

She found it funny how one could be so proud of his lineage without knowing all the actual problematic things that happened under his very nose. He'd been so sheltered, that he was blind as to what was right in front of him.

“…have investigator Mutsuki attend the auction.” Matsuri said annoyed.

At that Reina perked up and looked at Haise who glanced at her quickly and asked if he heard him correctly.

“A-alone, sir?” He stuttered.

They both knew that even if Mutsuki did get the lead, he was in no way fit to go alone no matter the circumstance. If they could decide who to take to the auction, Reina would offer herself. She didn’t endure a year of torture for nothing.

“Of course. It’d be suspicious otherwise. It’s to avoid arousing suspicion, and so we can mount an attack from within.” His voice echoed throughout the room.

“He won’t be able to carry a quinque in with him if there’s a security check. And that is what the quinxes ability is for, no..?”

Haise panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind to protect the boy from any imminent danger, “But Investigator Mutsuki isn’t ready for such an important mission!!”

“What do you mean by ‘but,’ Investigator Sasaki?” Matsuri voice lowered by an octave, an almost animalistic—irritated growl came out from the man.

Haise cowered and just watched as Juuzou stepped in to save him from. Raising his hand, he asked for permission to speak before asking if he could join the auction too. His bubbly voice cutting through the tension between both guys.

“What if I pose as Investigator Mutsuki’s friend? Might be good to have one more on the inside if you want to mess things up from within.” He smiled innocently.

The discussion only lasted a few more minutes until the Washu man finally relented and allowed the boy with red stitches to attend and pose as an average citizen.

Just then there was a knock at the door, Investigators Hirako, Akira, and Shimoguchi entered the room. They stood tall as Matsuri addressed them a lot more formally than he did with Haise and Reina. She scoffed but covered it up as a cough and sat forward in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest, and leaned on the table. After that the meeting had officially commenced.

“Now let me explain the details of the operation auction sweep.”

As everyone left the room Juuzou caught up to mentors and chatted up a small conversation before Akira came over and spoke to the both of them as well.

“Reina, Haise. If Squad 2 is involved, it’s a big operation. That doesn’t happen often.” Her words struck them as she wasn’t holding back.

She wanted them to understand the severity of the operation and what it entailed.

“I know neither of you have any career ambitions here, but what you do here will go a long way. That of course applies to your squad too. But the bigger the reward…” she sighed looking away from them.

“The bigger the risk.” Reina muttered as Haise continued from where she left off.

“Thats what you were going to say, right..?”

“Yeah..”

Reina stayed silent as she stayed listening to the older woman. She knew that she hated her, and yet she still warned her—them— of the dangers that lurked in future operations whilst working at the CCG. A small fire erupted in the younger girls chest. Maybe it was because she thought they were finally getting along, that she was pushing their differences aside even. That feeling died down into nothing but wisps of smoke when she thought that it was all meant for Haise.

But why did she care? She was a human, nothing but food for her. She shook those thoughts away and hurried the feeling deep down. She’d deal with her feelings once they were ready to burst in the near future. As for now she’d just have to focus on her words.

“You need to be stronger, Haise. Be stronger and kill ghouls. Those with the least to lose… are the strongest.” And with that she left them. She didn’t even bother to spare the girl another glance either.

Once she was far enough away Reina turned to Haise and found a conflicted expression on his face. Grabbing his shoulder she rubbed it.

“Hey, if you really want to be stronger don’t listen to her words. Killing does nothing, it only feeds into the conflict you have between yourself. Instead, do what feels right to you, Haise. You’re your own person.” She smiled before grabbing his arm and dragging him to the car.

“Let’s go home now. We’ve got the rest of the squad to debrief.”

Once they both got home she left to her room and changed out of her clothes and into some shorts and an oversized shirt she’d stolen from one of the boys. Walking to the bathroom she shut herself in and started her nightly routine. Making sure to wash her face, and moisturize properly.

It had been getting a bit chillier as autumn was coming to fruition. The wind nipped at her skin everytime she left without a scarf, leaving her skin dry.

Leaving the bathroom she went back to her room and thought of the squad and their first mission. She wondered how they’d hold up. She remembered the first time she’d ever fought against an operation. The day the coffee shop became nothing but burnt bricks and ashes. Tragedy following moments later.

She sighed and sat on her bed. The blinds were open allowing her to see outside the big wall of windows that so generously came with the house. Her thoughts suddenly turned to a certain boy in the hospital.

“God, what the hell am I going to do with him. He doesn’t listen to either of us, now look at what happened. Turning himself into a little guinea pig.” She flopped her head on her pillows and tugged the sheets over her body shielding herself from the cool air circulating throughout the room.

She stretched her hand out above her head, reaching for the ceiling.

“What would Yoshimura do? What would dad do?”

Pulling her hand down she turned to reach over her nightstand and turned the lamp off before heading to bed. That would be a problem for the furture her. For now she’d rest for there were big days ahead of them leading up to the raid in November.

wc: 2.3k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: hi! I’m back again but imma dip soon again due to my teachers giving excessive work. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters, I barley had time to proofread them so I apologize for any errors!!

Tag list:

Second Son (XVI) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The soul-tracking ritual ensues, and Anders has a precarious idea.

Part XV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :). Sincerely hoping this chapter doesn't glitch again.

The excitement of performing the soul-tracking ritual wore off rather quickly when you realized that you had to draw out all of the runes since Anders was unable to crouch down. It was an extensive process and each character had to be extremely precise, causing your fingers to cramp up rather quickly. 

Your feet were feeling fuzzy as the circulation in your legs started to suffer from your position, your knees cracking noisily with every shuffle you took to continue mapping out the ritual circle. 

“I can’t feel my legs anymore.” You whined, upper body flopping down as you braced yourself with your palms. 

Anders grunts from in front of you, “You’re not even halfway there yet, and careful you almost smudged the Dagaz.” His drawl has you huffing, head instinctually snapping to the side to make sure you didn’t actually smear anything. 

“Easy for you to say, you’re sitting on a bloody stool while I’m hunched over, practically shining your boots!” Your exasperation was painted across your face, words spewing out in a mixture of annoyance and jest. 

The man rolls his eyes and rubs a hand over his knee, the joint no doubt aching, “Careful loyal vassal of mine, I am graciously offering you my help after all,” his tone of amusement melts away and he suddenly grows serious, “but it is imperative that we do this quickly.” 

You huff and adjust your position, swinging your head up to look at the man in curiosity, “Why’s that?” 

Anders’ face is darkened with a grim frown, and he peers down at the papers on his laps, “You said that those buddies of yours were going to kill Tom, right?” 

“Yes…” Your uncertain tone has you fidgeting with your wand habitually, eyes flickering between the window of the room and the man in front of you. 

“Well he’s puppeting the inferis with his magic, so they’ll undoubtedly be reduced to husks once he’s gone. So we need to hurry,” Anders elucidates, mouth set into a firm line as he delved deeper into his thoughts. 

Putting a hand up, you blink owlishly at the man, “This is too much information. So, not only are inferis still housing their original souls – but you’re saying that it's Voldemort’s magic that’s tying these souls down to the land of the living?” 

You didn’t know whether you wanted to curse the detestable man into oblivion or begrudgingly allow yourself to be grateful that his existence meant Regulus’ soul was still with you. 

Well, he was chaining down hundreds of souls for his own selfish desires – so you were leaning towards wanting to stick your hand through his head. 

“Only the inferis of his own creation, but yes, in theory.” The man looks mildly impressed at your quick thinking. 

“Would it be a bad idea to owl Harry and ask him to raincheck on his plans to eviscerate the Dark Lord?” You draw a hand to rub at your forehead, a newfound migraine blooming from the back of your neck and straining across your occiput. 

Anders gives you an unimpressed eyebrow raise before waving his hand towards the abandoned quarter-circle behind you, “A terrible idea. Now, let’s continue.” 

You finish drawing the ritual circle an hour after sunset. 

Your hand was shaking uncontrollably, jerking with every cramp that tugged at your muscles. You had begun sweating at one point, causing Anders to limp over and slide both of the windows open. The cool air bristled through the room and circled around all the loose papers, the sounds of rustling and quiet cruising from the older man flowing around the atmosphere. 

As you step back to survey your hard work, you can’t help the smile that plays at your lips: the intricacies of the circle was alluring, practically glowing under the yellow light fixtures above you. The wind began to whistle, and Anders took that as a cue to interrupt your little reprieve, “Looks decent enough.” 

“Decent? Have you gone senile since the last time we chatted? This bloody thing is the embodiment of perfection!” You cry out in incredulity, pondering all the ways you could attach the nifty piece of work to your academic portfolio.

Anders rolls his eyes and organizes his papers, “Yes, yes, you’re practically a Runes Master. Take a picture of it, why don’t ya?” 

Playfully narrowing your eyes at his back, you go to retort, but a knock at the door has you pausing just as you open your mouth. Sharing a look with Anders, you carefully move to investigate, only cracking the door open marginally in order to hide your work. 

It wouldn’t do you much good to have the neighbors thinking you were summoning something. 

“Luna?” Your squawk of surprise only causes the girl to smile, eyes darting over your head as her gaze seems to fade in and out of fixation. 

Bouncing on her heels, she reaches into her pocket, “So, you’re done?” 

“Yeah, I finished drawing up the circle. I think the old man wants to perform the actual ritual tonight though, so I won’t see you until tomorrow.” You exhale tiredly and murmur to yourself, “If I wake up, that is.” 

Luna nods quickly and pulls out a few items from her coat, “I see. Well, I’ve brought some things. I was told that you were in need of this as well by the Humdingers” In her outstretched hands, you see a couple of wrapped sandwiches and a small camera. 

“What?” You gape and slowly reach forwards, “Where did you get a camera from, little moon?” 

The girl smiles brightly and fiddles with her coat buttons, “I asked Asger.” You nod in appreciation and smile at the girl, waving with your full hands as she gracefully skips away towards the house. 

You retreat back into the room and brandish the camera at the expectant man with a victorious smirk, “I have great friends.” 

Anders grunts and reaches for one of the sandwiches, “That’s my camera, kid.” 

You examine the device with your oh so supple fingers, and ignore the urge to stick your tongue out at him, your sensibility winning out for once. As you both eat in silence, your eyes run over the respectable pile of papers in front of Anders, realizing that the man was absolutely serious about publishing your findings. 

“What have you got so far?” You nod towards his papers. 

His eyes quickly flicker beside him, “Magical essences and the imbuing work your boy did, and now I’m drafting up some pages about inferis and their souls.” 

You hum quietly and dust off your hands as you finish the last scraps of your food, feeling more vigilant as your aching stomach settles. The camera was smaller than the jarring flash bulb that Rita Skeeter always had around, and if anything, seemed way more practical. 

It was a bit blocky and had a round lens in the center with a small depression that you could only assume was for the flash. The bottom of the camera had a small rectangular slit — an output. 

“Polaroid 600. Film is as expensive as it gets, so don’t you go and waste it.” Anders’ quietly mumbles as he gets up from his spot, hands reaching for the camera. As he fiddles around with it for a few moments, the top suddenly seems to prop up and he hands it back to you with a satisfied nod, “Think you know how to operate a camera?” 

“I’m not a dunce, thank you very much.” Your riposte causes him to roll his eyes as he gestures for you to move towards the circle. Despite your initial indignance, it took you a few moments of consideration and blind thumbing until you were confident enough to snap the photo. As you (luckily) manage to get a good shot, you conceal your surprise as the photo immediately begins to peek out of the bottom slit, slowly being spat out. 

How convenient.

You nimbly pull the photo out once it seems to stop sputtering, and hand the camera over to Anders before peering at the developing square film. Slowly, you watch as the outlines of the ritual circle bloom into visibility. 

You take a couple more moments to run your eyes over the photo before placing it in Anders’ awaiting palm. The man hobbles over to his table and clips the photo to one of the pages, placing the camera on the stack of papers afterwards. 

“Okay, now put your boy’s photo in the center—next to the Uruz symbol.” 

You wordlessly comply with Anders’ words, and slowly tiptoe out of the circle, eyes never straying from Regulus’ face. The man moves to the opposite side of the circle, and pats at the air, gesturing for you to sit down. 

Watching from your position on the floor, Anders begins to chant evenly, eyes closed as you feel him begin to gather his magic to pool across the symbols. The faint steely nature of his magical signature washes over you, and you clasp your hands together in your lap as you feel an immense pressure begin to weigh on the room. Regulus’ photo gives a faint jolt, then another, and then another, until the whole paper begins to vibrate. 

You watch in awe as the photo slowly rises into the air, the Uruz symbol glowing brightly with a faint red hue. In the blink of an eye, the photo jerks sideways and falls onto the Hic symbol to your left just as Anders’ chanting ceases. 

“Hic? Here? What does it mean, here?” Your questions seem to spill out uncontrollably, and you see the older man give the photo a look of consideration. 

“I’m not quite sure. Usually, souls still in the realm of the living are classified as Vivus,” Anders mutters, hand coming up to rub at his chin, “Kid, is that ring of yours imbued with his magic?” 

You nod and reach for your ring, fingers running over the two snakes that you’ve grown accustomed to. Anders sighs before slapping his hand over his entire face, dragging it down as he seems to wage an internal war with himself. 

“You said your boy was in a cave?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and nod slowly, “Yes…and so are hundreds of other inferis, why?” 

The man meets you gaze with a determined look as you slowly stand up, hands fiddling with your ring. 

“Well, let’s go fetch your boy.” 

The journey back to the cave was bittersweet, and you almost lost your footing as you apparated to the very spot you had before, except this time with a rather grumpy presence by your side. Water batted against the rock you were rooted to, droplets of water flying into your face periodically. You could barely make out the view in front of you as the moon faintly illuminated the waves.

As you apparate with Anders to the shore, you feel a lump grow in your throat. Your heart was beating violently against your chest, and a cold sweat started to break through the surface of your skin. 

The muted crunching of sand and rocks under your shoes grounded you to reality as the void of the cave engulfed you, washing away the sea of stars that had been beaming at you from above.

“Lumos.” 

As you extended your wand in front of you, you had half the mind to be cautious of potential bloodthirsty death eaters or one psychotic dark lord, realizing that perhaps the certifiable man would be on the upkeep for his horcruxes. 

Soon, you both reached the rounded end of the cave, and Anders shoots you an unimpressed look. Holding a hand up at him, you extinguish your lumos and bring your wand to your palm, “Secare.”

Dragging the tip of your wand against your palm, the spell slowly cuts your skin enough to draw blood. Satisfied with your work, you swipe your bloodied cut against the damp rocks behind you. 

“Lumos.” 

The wall of charcoal stone crumbles away like you remembered, and you’re immediately met with a wave of faint heat. 

Remnants of your fire storm from last time?

“Bloody hell,” Anders croaks from behind you, eyes glimmering at the sight of the sumptuous crystal clusters. The milky geodes sent a shiver down your spine as you started to draw a resemblance between their geometric planes and the cloudy skin of the inferis. 

Making your way through the dark ventricle of minerals, you slowly emerge into the belly of the cave, the familiar void of water just meters away from you. 

“We’re here. They’re in there,” your voice falls into a whisper, “he’s in there.”

Anders steps out from behind you and pulls out his own wand, the worn ashen wood barely visible in the light of your lumos. Tilting his head towards you, he looks at you with a solemn gaze before asking, “His full name?” 

“Regulus Arcturus Black.” 

Nodding, the man turns towards the lake and moves his wand counterclockwise, “Prodire Regulus Arcturus Black.” 

Nothing happens for a few seconds, until abruptly — something breaks through the surface of the water and flies towards your awaiting figures, stilling to a stop in front of Anders as if colliding with an invisible wall. Your hand swings to cover your mouth as your eyes trail along the spindly creature: its body was slack in the air, arms stiff like milky needles, chest unnaturally thin with a protruding rib cage that threatened to burst through bruised skin, and a rawboned face veiled by the darkness. 

This thing was Regulus?

You felt your world begin to tip and spin, eyes burning then blurring rapidly. Shivers wracked through your chest as sobs seemed to well in your throat. Closing your eyes, you try to steady your breathing, but the flashing image of Regulus’ face and then the sight of the horrid creature infiltrate your head. 

It feels as though a millennia of your discombobulation passes by before you feel a firm grip on your shoulder, the gesture helping to keep you upright on your feet. 

“Come on, kid,” Anders’ face comes into view and you see his eyes soften uncharacteristically, his mouth set into a hard frown. Your eyes stray to the side and you see that the man had summoned a cloth to cover the inferi during your small episode, the lumpy bundle now floating in the air nearby. 

Nodding quickly, you swallow harshly before spinning around, “Right. Sorry.” Your whisper is met with a comforting silence, and you appreciated more than ever, Anders’ ability to know when words weren’t needed. 

As you both stiffly trek back through the cave, you begin to feel a weight of foreboding blanket your body. Picking up the pace, you step out of the mouth of the cave with sweaty hands, eyes darting around wildly. 

“Hurry,” your choked whisper confuses the older man, but he abides nonetheless. As you grab his forearm and hesitantly grab a part of the covered inferi, you hear a faint warping echo from off to the side. 

Gasping quietly into the chilly air, you barely catch a glimpse of the familiar figure before you’re tugged away by the distortion of apparition. You can barely breathe as your heart seems to stutter uncontrollably. 

You land back inside the research room with Anders and Regulus’ inferi, not even noticing how cramped the space now was as you tried to quell your panic. 

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Anders floats the clothed figure down into the center of the circle as you buckle to the ground, blood flushing cold. 

“Voldemort. He was there.” You gasp out. 

The man jolts to a paralyzed freeze as his eyes widen comically, his heart no doubt beginning to race as fast as yours. You shake your head jerkily and wave your hand aimlessly, “He didn’t see you. Or well, you were covered by the cloth, but he definitely noticed me.” 

The dryness of your mouth was beginning to prickle and itch, your skin suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You were sure he recognized you, after all, he was always in Harry’s head. 

“Then we just have to hurry a bit.” Anders' steady words have you snapping your attention over to him, confused as to why he was so calm now. Seeing your distraught gaze, he sighs, “He won’t come for you for now, I’m sure he is focused on your other friends. Besides, even if he were, he has no idea where to even look.” 

Nodding with an unconvinced frown, you feel your fear melt away into a stony resolve, eyes flickering over to look at the figure laying in the circle. 

“Thank you, Anders.” Your dry whisper has him cracking a small smile. 

“Thank me when your boy is back up and running.” 

You were robotically drawing more rune characters, eyes unfocused as you were too entranced by your thoughts. You weren’t sure what the older man was planning as he hadn’t explained to you what this additional ritual entailed, but you were determined to make it work. 

As you complete the last etching, head rising up to look at the concentrated man, he finally breaks the tense atmosphere, “I don’t know if it’ll work, but the combination of his soul and your ring might just do the trick.”

Tilting your head to the side, you try not to sound too hopeful, “So, he’ll be completely recovered if it works?” 

“Not completely, he’ll need time to rejuvenate his magical core. This would be unprecedented, kid. I don’t have all the answers, and I can’t promise that it will work, but I am going to do my best.” His eyes are unwavering, back straightened with coiled tension. 

You nod hastily, knowing that you were both pretty much running on wishes. As Anders double checks your rune work, you slowly slip your ring off your finger, cringing as the cold air brushes against your naked finger. 

You hadn’t ever taken it off before. 

Placing the cool band next to the covered figure, you step out of the circle and clench your hands. Anders nods in confirmation before stepping out as well, slowly hobbling over to stand on the opposite side of the circle. 

“Let your magic funnel out into the circle as well. You won’t need to chant.” Anders' brief words have you nodding, and you slowly shuffle from leg to leg, fatigue starting to seep into your veins. 

The chanting begins soon after, and you allow the metaphorical valves of your magical core to open, feeling the coolness of your magic sweeping to tangle with Anders’ metallic magic. Both of your magical signatures dance around the circle and collect in the center, flexing together above the figure. The entire rune circle seems to radiate in shades of reds and stormy greys before blazing into an endless black.  

Suddenly, you feel magic seep from the clothed figure — a deep, harrowing magic that roused with a small rumble before erupting into a suffocating cloud that could only be described as numbing. 

It was nothing like Regulus’ magic, which meant that this corrupted energy belonged to Voldemort. You grit your teeth as you flush out more of your magic to try and drive away Voldemort’s lingering signature, the psychopath’s magic seeming to screech violently at your attempt. 

The prolonged battle with the stifling magic finally ends as the dark cloud is ripped away from you, pulled in all directions towards the additional runes you drew, the characters radiating in almost a blinding way before ripping apart the corrupted magic. 

The once dark circle stews into a cool grey before disintegrating into a pale green, the light beating melodically. You watch in wonderment as the magic in the ring bubbles into your magic, intertwining with yours before slowly clutching at Anders’ as well. Your potent whirl of combined magic slowly descends towards the clothed figure, causing it to jerk wildly. 

The cloth shuffles with the movements and you see it begin to pull upwards as if the inferi was arching towards your magic. Suddenly, the strings of magic slam into the clothed figure, sending shockwaves throughout the room. 

As you hear a few books tumble to the ground at the energy, the figure twitches once more before falling still again. Anders continues to chant for a few more moments as the circle flares into a blinding white light before it, too, simmered into nothingness. 

You nearly topple over in exhaustion as the energy draws back into your body, the synergies of magic in the room evaporating almost instantaneously. Anders wipes his forehead with his sleeve, and shakily stumbles over to his table for stability. 

“Did it work?” Your voice is crackly as a sharp, sticky pain climbs up your neck. 

The man huffs and glances at you before slowly making his way towards the figure, grunting as he tries to crouch down. He tugs the cloth upward and peers inside, expression unreadable. 

“Well?” 

Anders looks up at you, eyebrows drawn, “I have a lot more to write about.” 

Leaping forward at his words, you rip away the cloth slightly to expose the figure’s head, and you nearly pass out on the spot. 

“It worked. It worked. It worked.” Your quiet chants spurs on a wave of tears as you slowly run your fingers over Regulus’ face. The boy looked picturesque in his sleeping state, face no longer emaciated and bruised, but now mirroring his appearance from when he was just a portrait in your pocket. 

You brush his curls aside and resist the urge to just keel over and fall asleep on him, your magical exhaustion echoing through your bones. 

“Do you have something else on you that’s imbued with his magic?” Anders’ quiet words have you snapping out of your euphoric state, eyes drawn up in confusion. Seeing your perplexity, he clarifies, “He might not remember you, this ritual simply revitalized him and unchained his soul. He might only remember the events before his death.” 

You pause at the revelation and sit up straighter, hands dropping to your sides. Gaping for a few moments, your mind whirs as you try and grasp for the right words, “Uh, wait, yes. I have these.” Your hands fish into your pockets and you pull out the tattered pieces of the golden portrait frame, outstretching them for the man to see. 

“His portrait frame?” Anders’ eyebrows shoot up in stupefaction. 

Nodding, you slowly drop the pieces into his rough palm, “It doesn’t matter.” The man frowns, puzzled, so you continue, “As long as he’s okay, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t remember me.” 

Straightening up from his position, he stares at the pieces of wood in his hand, “He just might remember… if these are truly imbued with his magic.” Looking up, you see skepticism flicker in his eyes, “Are you too beat for another ritual?” 

“You should be asking yourself that, old man.”

You don’t remember much that happens afterwards. 

As you crack your eyes open, lingering fatigue weighing on your eyelids, you are keenly aware of a hand running across your shoulders. 

“Reg?” Your voice comes out as a strained whisper. 

A familiar face pops into your line of sight, “He’s okay, just resting upstairs.” Luna’s smile warms your chest, and you resist the urge to turn over and bury yourself into the warmth of her arms. 

Your body was incredibly sore from the activities of the previous day, and you were sure that your magical core was rolling about, emptily inside of you. The longer you laid, the more groggy you grew as the air started to warm against your skin. 

Gently pushing up from the mattress underneath you, you run a hand down your place as Luna shifts to stand up. The girl helps you shuffle upstairs and towards the bathroom, quietly insisting that you wash up as she prepares tea for you. 

Sluggishly washing up, you take a moment to peer into the cloudy mirror, raising an eyebrow at the sight of heavy bags under your eyes. Your shoulders sagged from exhaustion, and the sound of your grumbling stomach prompted you to make your way towards the kitchen. 

As you slowly trudged into the room, eyes squinting from the beams of sunlight that flitted through the window, you see Asger approach you with a plate in hand. 

“Good afternoon. Dad’s in his research shed right now.” The man extends the plate to you, and your mouth waters at the sight of the hearty lunch. You nod in thanks and drop down onto an awaiting chair, gaze straying towards one of the closed doors down the hall. 

Asger, seeing your restless ministrations, chuckles before answering your unvoiced question, “He’s in there. Hasn’t awakened yet, but Dad said it’s only a matter of time. He's recovering quite fast.” 

Right, your rituals worked. Both of them. It was starting to come back now, and you could feel the weight of the frame pieces and your ring in your pocket, both now depleted of Regulus’ magic. 

Scarfing down your meal, and ignoring Asger’s cringe, you start to mentally debate on whether you should visit Anders first, or Regulus. Luna places a mug in front of you, and plops down into the seat next to yours, fingers fiddling with a few strings of yarn. 

Regulus won out, of course. 

As you dismiss yourself with endless words of gratitude to your two friends, you slowly make your way into the room Regulus was resting in. You cross through the threshold, mug in hand, and immediately surrender yourself to the comforting wave of magic that envelops you. 

The warm magic — Regulus’ magic, brings tears to your eyes, and you have to take a few moments to compose yourself. The aching hollowness in your heart, the one you had grown accustomed to in the following months after the destruction of his portrait, seems to sing with inklings of joy. 

You were still in a state of disbelief, mind reeling from the fact that you not only discovered uncharted branches of magic, but also that you got Regulus back. No, not only you — Sirius was going to get Regulus back, too. 

The boy in question was laid on a makeshift bed, covered by a fleece blanket. Anders took up the great responsibility of clothing him after your flustered realization that he was nude, the man murmuring tidbits about how he did the same for Asger when the younger man fractured his hip years ago. 

You walk over and sit down by his side, brushing your hand over his hair. 

Things would change now. They would be better. 

You spend a long while just sitting by the boy’s side, mind still unconvinced that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. 

After a long thread of thoughts that devolved into heart wrenching what if’s, you decide to pay a visit to Anders, immensely grateful for his help and wisdom. The sunny skies slowly dimmed as clouds drifted by, the air chilling to sooth the faint migraine that still sunk its claws into your head. 

As you make your way into the research room, you can’t mask the smile that stretches across your lips. Anders was hunched over his table, hand moving furiously across a sea of pages as he tried to document every droplet of theory and fact on the papers. Not wanting to interrupt the man’s train of thought, you linger by the doorway before slowly teetering towards a fallen stack of books. 

You organize the endless towers of tomes for a few minutes before Anders takes note of your presence as he goes to stretch his back. 

“Finally awake?” His voice is light, and you could see the remnants of engrossment creeping in his eyes. He truly did have a passion for this branch of research.  

You nod and grin brightly at the man, “Sure am. Now, are you going to accept my thank you?” 

Anders grunts and waves you off with an amused eye roll — the closest thing to a “you’re welcome” in his language, and turns back to his papers, “Anyway, another owl came for you this morning. The letter should be on your stool.” 

As the man resumes his writing, you peer around to try and find the envelope, clicking your tongue when you find the paper beaming at you from across the room. 

Dear Padfoot’s pup, 

We hope you are well. At first, we weren’t going to accept the offer, but some unexpected events happened that forced us away. We are safe now with the frightening widow. We’ve gotten two more, but now the Goblins hate us. 

Stay safe. We are going to remain here until we are forced to confront the darkness. Unfortunately, we fear that it will be soon. 

We miss you. Padfoot keeps whining, we think he misses you most. 

-Prongslet and co. 

You laugh lightly at the contents of the letter, and you fold the paper back up. Good to know that Harry and the others were safe with the Contessa at the very least. As you stuff the paper back in the envelope, you see another folded paper sidled against the wall of the envelope. 

Hello lost friend of mine, 

A certain dragon of ours is growing restless, we fear that his blood father is in trouble with a certain man. The Carrows are a nightmare, and it appears that many students are disappearing with every passing day. Theodore keeps shooting down my (entirely plausible) theory that those twin professors of ours are hiding their bodies in a dark closet somewhere. 

I’ve received a letter from my mother informing me of the rearrangements at home, and I must say, it was quite a surprise. I haven’t heard back from you since you’ve departed, and I almost thought you were dead for a while. Glad to hear that you aren’t. 

Theodore says hi, and he wants to know all the research you’ve done. Our dragon also says hi and that he hopes you received his last letter. 

I hope to hear from you soon. 

(Reply to me.)

-B

“Was it a tawny owl?” Your question rings out into the quiet atmosphere, drawing Anders out of his work. 

The man gives you a grunt of confirmation and you nod in satisfaction. It would appear that Harry is corresponding to you via Contessa Zabini, the woman no doubt telling Blaise to forward the letter to you along with his. 

Merlin, what a strange web of dynamics.

As you tuck away the papers into your pockets, a knock has you spinning on your heel in curiosity. Anders barely even looks up from his work as you make your way to the door, a wave of deja vu slamming into you. 

Opening the door, you see Luna smiling brightly at you, similar to her airy demeanor from the night before.

Before you can get a word out, the girl quickly supplies you with news that has air fleeing from your lungs, “He’s awake.” 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17 @chocochannie @bl4stonesc @shari-berri

Chapter 2: Regent

previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

The sound of skin to skin contact echoed throughout the meeting room. Pale skin becomes red as blood flows to the surface of it. A mild stinging pain could be felt, the feeling of embarrassment flooded his senses, but he kept a cool front. His poker face never faltered no matter how humiliated he was.

A sense of lingering anger and authority dropped from the hand that slapped the boy. His face filled with worry as his voice spoke out,

"A squad leader can't put his squad members' lives at risk." His voice was serious.

He was dead serious, and it showed not just through his expressions, but through his violent actions. He'd never once laid a hand on them no matter the circumstance, but he felt the need to express it this time to show that he was the one in charge for once and wouldn't be put down.

"It's dangerous to show our back to the enemy. I took the possibility of Orochi pursuing and attacking us from the rear into consideration." He defended himself.

He stared at Haise the whole time and asked him, "does that warrant a slap in the face?"

"You think you're so smart. Why else do you think I called for Haise? You would've died had it not been for me telling him as soon as we left to pursue Torso." Reina yelled at the foolish boy.

His ego got too big that he almost killed himself and the rest of his team all because of his selfish desires. Haise stood still as everything unveiled itself.

"Ghoul investigators must run even if their arms and legs are torn off!!" He raised his voice, veins popped out the side of his neck. His face contorted into one of worry.

"We'll have our chance as long as we're alive. What can we do if we're dead?!"

Sighing, Reina got in between both boys and put a hand on each of their shoulders. She pushed Urie away a bit and turned to face him.

"Urie I'm relieving you from duty as Squad Leader of the Quinx Squad." She stated.

Again Urie started arguing, he made sure his voice was heard when he said, "I find this unacceptable," but both of them didn't budge, instead Haise put his foot down and in an authoritative voice jibed, "it's an order."

Gritting his teeth Urie breathed heavily leaving a heavy suspenseful silence in his wake until he sneered at both of them, "but you're both ghouls..."

His eyes widened meanwhile the rest of the squad squeaked in surprise at his bold claim. How could he disrespect their mentors?! Shirazu wasted no time in beating some sense into the boy.

"You're a piece of shit!!" He yelled as he kicked the purple haired boy.

He continued to lecture the boy about how responsible and considerate their mentors were. How they both risked their lives for theirs. He tussled him around like a rag doll, Urie having no reaction to the treatment he was getting at the moment. Instead he looked behind him where Mutsuki was standing.

There the shy boy stood watching Shirazu manhandle Urie. Noticing that he was looking back he decided to speak up.

"Urie.. I.. I'd like you to apologize to Instructors Sasaki and Nakou."

"Shirazu let him go." Reina raised her hand in a stop motion.

Following her order he did so slowly. Looking back at his mentors he noticed that Haise was about to speak up.

"No matter what he says, my decision is final. Besides, I'm appointing Rank 3: Investigator Shirazu as Squad Leader." He pointed at the blonde.

Shirazu screeched and tried to protest. He had no idea what Sasaki was thinking, but this wasn't right. Him? Squad leader?! Those two things should never be in the same sentence. Haise reassured him that he'd teach him what it means to be a leader.

Turning to face the boy that was walking away he playfully hit him a small smile gracing his lips that didn't quite reach his ears.

"Urie. You keep disobeying me and I'll eat you! I'm a ghoul, remember?" He chuckled softly.

Having nothing else to say, the denoted boy just walked out the room. Noting Haise's weird behavior she walked behind him and patted his shoulder making him look down at her figure. She smiled weakly at him and left to follow after Urie.

She looked around everywhere and found him sitting on the couch by himself in the living room. Deciding to sneak up on him she quietly approached him and hugged him tightly against her chest. Startled at first he tried to pull her arms off of him until he heard the familiar sound of her voice reach his ears.

"Got ya." She tilted his head so he could look up at her.

Huffing he let her have her way with him. She let go and climbed over the couch to sit on the glass coffee table. Her small figure leaning back, strands of lilac hair letting loose from her messy bun.

"I'm going to make it quick since we have to wake up early tomorrow." She put it simply as she crossed her legs.

He looked her dead in the eye and motioned for her to get on with what she initially came here for.

"You need to learn to respect others, you know. If you keep up this rude attitude it won't make others like you. Now since I started living with you I've learned a few things." She started.

"You don't like sweets, so I don't know why you have that with you. Two you don't care for relationships, whether it's romantic or platonic it doesn't matter. You push those who care for you away all because of your personal goals." She sat upright and stood up walking behind the couch.

"Let me tell you from personal experience... you'd rather have friends or people you can call acquaintances than enemies. Why? Because you don't know when the last time you'll need them by your side is. If you have no one to be there for you, you'll feel lost." She leaned over it and whispered in his ear,

"I know you don't care about these mundane matters, but it'll come and bite you back in the ass. Especially if you mess with the wrong people." She breathed out and turned around to leave.

"And who would those people be?" His voice echoed throughout the vacant room.

The girl stood glued in her place.

"Since I started living with you I've learned a few things." He mocked.

She turned around and smirked.

"Yeah? Like what?" She taunted.

"You've been acting up since you moved in. Not a single time have you actually acted yourself. This little vulgar act you're putting up isn't fooling anyone. Who are you? Is the real question, Reina Nakou." His voice dripped of venom.

She smiled at his words and walked up to pat his cheek.

"I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, darling."

wc: 1.1k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: short chapter cause of writers block but also because I wanted to stop meshing chapters together for a bit. Next chapter will be a bit longer but shorter than the previous ones.

ps. school is gonna kick me in the ass soon so… spontaneous updates will ensue

Tag list: