I Remember Now. In My Own Little Sad Delusion, Reader Keeps The Ring And Wears It All The Time On The

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."

Emmy, you are the sweetest person ever!! Thank you for your love! I truly am always so honored to see you around :) <33 ! I hope you're having a great day/night, lovely!

No, thank you, love! It’s always been a pleasure reading your works. I can honestly say I’ve never interacted with anyone’s page as much as yours which is saying something. Your works always intrigue me. They’re so eloquent, full of drama, and the themes in it always help out the plot of the story. The way your add more characteristics to the already known characters adds to them. It’s as if we see them as a person and not just a character we like, it’s someone we can relate to in our own way. I love your work and will always continue to support you, I’m glad to be there for you. Have a great morning :)

Reading Arcane fics made me realize how much I miss writing so i might come out of my hiatus sometime soon. I have been wanting to get back to writing for my Urie fic but got so lazy, plus I kinda lost the concept (sad). Idk if I should start re-writing it now, or finish writing now and re-write it later. I did say I wanted to re-write it sometime in the future.

We're not halfway there yet, but we're slowly making our way there 💔😔

We're less than €2,000 away from achieving this goal.

Please help me get there 🙏🙏

I trust your help 🙏🚨

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

gofundme.com

Donate to Help my Uncel’s family , BE THE CHANGE, organized by Roba Ayyad

I am writing to you in a time of dire need, seeking your compassionate assistance fo… Roba Ayyad needs your support for Help my Uncel’s fami

Please read and help out! The one-sided war/genocide going on in Palestine has affected and displaced so many families. Innocent lives have been lost and martyred. They have been tortured, starved, famished, raped, and now live in fear for their lives. No one should live in fear. No one should go to sleep scared about not waking up to see the next day. No one should have to live in these horrid conditions.

Man’s yet those who are stuck in Gaza try and make the most of these days. They try and let children be children, live without the fear of being slaughtered. Please.. help everyone that you can. Read their story and share it if you can’t donate. If you have enough money to spare, please donate. Every cent counts! 🙏🙏

Hi there 👋,

My name is Mohammad, a father of three young children living in Gaza. We are facing unimaginable hardships due to the ongoing catastrophic war, and our home is no longer safe. I’ve started a fundraising to raise $40,000 to move my family to a safer place where my children can have a chance at a better future. 💔🍉

If you could spare a moment to read our story and consider donating or even sharing, it would mean the world to us. Every bit of support brings us closer to safety and hope. 🙏

Thank you for your kindness and compassion. ❤

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

I know that this isn’t my usual thing to post, but every single bit of attention this post gets matters!! The one-sided war going on in Palestine the past 3/4 of a century has affected the live of everyone in Gaza. There’s a famine, scarcity of available resources. Those who have been massacred, and killed by the IDF have mostly been women and children. I’ve seen news about a new father being delivered the birth certificates of his twin children, and the death certificates of his twin children, wife, and mother-in-law.

This has always been a very serious issue, and with this post I hope that you take the time and consideration to read and share, and donate to Mohammad and his family—but not just them, but to many others as well who are suffering the same fate. These are innocent people dying at the hands of the IDF. An ethnic cleansing is happening right now, a genocide. If you watched Katniss Everdeen fight and rage war against her own government, why are you turning a blind eye to it now?

Please, please, please help Mohammad! Although I cannot donate to him, I will help share his story. 🙏🙏

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mohammed's Family From Gaza Rebuild Their Lives, organized by Mohammed Abu Swierh

My name is Mohammad Salem Abu Swierh, a husband and father of… Mohammed Abu Swierh needs your support for Help Mohammed's Family From Gaza R

Hi it’s me again 😅 can’t get enough, so I thought of Ayato and prompt 12 with fem reader!! Them being childhood sweethearts. Again congrats on 4000 followers, you deserve it :)

# tags: scenario; friendship; fluffy shit; flashbacks; childhood sweethearts; human!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ayato kirishima {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hello once again! i hope it's the ayato from tokyo ghoul (not from genshin impact or diabolik lovers), based on your previous request :) thank you for this prompt!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

You and Ayato have known each other for over eighteen years. Now you are twenty-four and twenty-five, have enough knowledge about life and also many situations behind you.

Your friendship is a sequence of pleasant memories, it’s dozens of trips together outside of Tokyo, weeks without contact and months of living in silence, your long-hour quarrels, your live together for three years in small flat, your ‘on college’ chapter, his being a ghoul and all the bad things he’s done, your own first love and his broken heart after several relationships with women... It’s all your moments with a glass of wine or something stronger, it’s just watching horror movies together until dawn, running away from important meetings, also your first serious work and all the other things that have kept the two of you apart for almost twenty years, but also made your relatio stronger than ever before.

You understood each other without words, you understood each other through gestures, facial expressions and the way of breathing. You knew each other perfectly, you knew about all your failures and about every, even the smallest, situation that made you smile or happy. There was no taboo between you, no shyness.

And although Ayato in your eyes has become a really handsome and calm guy, still looking at him to this day you are able to remember his much younger – seven-year-old – version, who stole your favorite bucket from the sandbox and argued with you that he just found it and had to take care of it... At first your friendship was turbulent and full of contradictions; the boy took your toys, scared you and ran away from you, while you called him ‘nasty black cat’ and ‘big dummy’. His father and your mother looked at you with light amusement on their faces, wondering when you will finally come to an understanding.

To this day, you remember how – after almost a year of friendship and playing together in the sandbox – Ayato approached you with a paper bag filled with cookies in your favorite flavor. It was a kind gesture that put the most beautiful smile on your baby face at that time. The boy thought it was really cute. It’s cute to see you happy and looking at him as someone you really like.

“...You should give me a kiss as a ‘Thank you’. I made them with my sister.” He said then an you only giggled under your breath. The present Ayato looked at you with furrowed brows and you just shook your head. You were at the coffee shop.

“But we are not married.” You said seventeen years ago and he just stamped his foot.

“Then marry me.” His declaration was sincere and loud at the time, causing your mummy to giggle and his dad to laugh out loud; he almost dropped the newspaper from his hands.

The memory only made you smile more and more, the tip of your nose turning slightly red.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” The dark-haired man put down the mug with the steaming drink, and you sighed amused.

“I just remembered something...” You began mysteriously, causing another surprised look to be sent in your direction. “It’s a really nice memory.” You looked down at the surface of dark coffee and could have sworn that for a brief moment your reflection looked like a six-year-old version of yourself.

Hi Hi, i love your writing so much...its so good and makes me feel fluffy inside🥺

So recently I've been having a big thing on Diluc being a dad of a red head daughter (it could be the reader) so could i wanna request a little story with how he'd be with a daughter from baby to about 4 years old? It can be headcannons or whatever you are comfy with...just really fluffy and cute u know?

Thanks in advance♥

I hope you don’t mind if the daughter is a baby here <3

She looks just like me...

—————————

Diluc was aware that his daughter had red hair, she was born that way. She screamed her little head off, waving her small arms in the air as her mother held her for the first time. Diluc remembers leaning over her shoulder to look down at his newborn baby girl, unable to hold back his tears of joy any longer when he noticed the red fuzz on her head.

Ragnvindr genes are strong. Diluc, his father, his grandfather and so on all have red hair, it’s just the way their gene pool works. Their genes overpower everyone else’s, it doesn’t matter if the mother is blonde, blue haired, black haired, their babies always have red hair. It doesn’t matter, Diluc was still shocked to see his beautiful baby with such bright hair right after being born.

For the first two weeks after her birth, Diluc tended to keep his distance. He feared that the baby would hate him. He smelled like fire and smoke, his hands were sweaty and his hair was always frizzy. The last thing he wanted was to give his daughter a bad first impression of him.

But now, months later, he’s gotten used to her and she’s come to love him too. Of course, she still prefers her mother over him but she won’t burst into tears when he picks her up.

Now he’s alone with the baby for the afternoon while his darling wife is out with friends. She deserves to get out of the house! Diluc is more than happy to watch the baby for the day. He has the maids do the laundry, wash the sheets and start on dinner so by the time she gets back, everything will be perfect.

Diluc is snapped out of his train of thought as a chubby hand rests itself on his face. He smiles and presses a kiss to his daughters cheek, laughing as she giggles. He looks at her with love and adoration. She has her mother’s eyes and his head of frizzy, red hair. There are a couple of paintings of Diluc as a baby though they’re stored away now to make from for paintings of his family. He can’t believe how much she looks like him

“You’re going to grow up to be a strong young woman, I know it” he tells her, bouncing her up and down in his arms, turning to block the sunlight from her face “You’ll probably grow taller than your mother too...Then what will we do with you?” Diluc huffs a laugh, earning another giggle from the baby

“My father always said that to me, you know. ‘Son, one day you’ll outgrow your mother. Then what are we going to do?’ Heh...yeah, he would say that all the time. If he had been around a bit longer, he would have gotten to see me outgrow him too” talking about his father stung...But when he got to talk about the good times he had with him, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world

“Your grandpa would have loved you...He would have had fifty of paintings commissioned, tons of little dresses made for you, more than you’d ever be able to wear before outgrowing them” he ran his fingers through her fine, red hair. Her little hand came up to grasp his finger, pulling his hand down to try to bite his hand “Hey- no no don’t do that”

Diluc shifted her in his arms, crossing the room to head down the grand staircase and out to the vineyard. After a bit of walking, he found a nice spot in the grass for the two of them to sit together where they could watch the water

“I got to grow up here...I ran around here through the grape vines, I splashed in this river with my brother. I hope I can give you the best life I can...I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you are safe and loved” Of course his daughter doesn’t understand, she grins up at him and waves her little hands around. She’s so full of innocent joy. She loves the grass, the maids, the birds, the rain. Diluc will do everything he can to protect her, to let her have a joyful childhood.

Soon he will retire from his duties as the Dark Knight Hero. He’ll put away his claymore and become the businessman he was always destined to be. He’ll run the winery and the Angel’s Share without any funny business, no more hunting the Fatui or Abyss mages. He has a family now, he can’t afford to be reckless with his life anymore. He has to be here for all of these little milestones in his daughters life, to see her grow into a brilliant young woman

“I love you, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you” he promises, smiling down at her again. The touching moment is quickly ruined as she tries to eat a beetle from the grass “No! Give me that!”

[0.8k] tangled lights, glass ornaments and christmas memories in the making as you spend the holiday with the marauders.

.

“Sirius, put the tinsel down!” 

“But it looks good on me, love.” 

“Yeah, and I am sure it will look so pretty when I strangle you with it.” 

“Ouch, so testy for the festive season.”

A snort could be heard from somewhere behind you both.

The marauders were undoubtedly a handful to deal with, and you had known that for many, many years. From your first year when a wild curled James settled into the seat next to you, thrusting his hand out to you and slipping his name in between his rambles with Sirius and Remus quickly settling on the other side of you—to now, where the lot of you stood in the Potter Manor living room with boxes of decorations and one job given by Euphemia Potter to have the tree decorated before she returned. 

As it would turn out, decorating the tree with three overgrown children was much more difficult than you had convinced yourself it would be. 

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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.

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This little trilogy fucking broke me 🤩

My Atlantis, We Fall | Part 1

Summary: A childhood friendship between Viktor and you grow into unspoken love, but your paths diverge when Viktor left you behind. Still heartbroken, you unexpectedly reunite during Progress Day after years, only to cause more heartbreak.

Pairing: Kid!Viktor X Kid!F!Reader, Viktor Arcane X Female Reader

Warnings: ANGST Words: 2.7k

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on my last Viktor fic! I am new to the Arcane fandom, so I apologize if I wrote some of these incorrectly <3 Hope you like this one as well. I will be posting Part 2 later today, hopefully!

The smog of Zaun never lifted. To Viktor, it was a constant haze that wrapped the Undercity in an unpleasant shade of gray. But even in that, there were spots of color, moments that broke through the dullness of it. For him, that color was you.

You were no stranger to the way the city worked. Born to a family scraping by on restricted earnings, you spent your days scouring the alleys for bits of scrap that could be sold or repurposed. The life of a scavenger wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest, and it was all you’d ever known.

At 9 years old, you met Viktor in the middle of a dusty alley, where scraps of metal and broken pipes littered all over the ground. He stood there, his cane awkwardly propped against a pile of junk as he messed around with some contraption he had made using a discarded piece of clock. For the first time ever, his golden eyes darted up to meet yours, they were wide with curiosity.

“Do you need help?” you asked, your tiny hands already brushing away the grime to pick up the gears he had dropped.

He hesitated before nodding. “Only if you don’t mind dirt.” You heard the accent for the first time.

From that moment on, dirt never mattered. Neither did the cane, or his limp, or the thin, almost too-pale figure that struggled to keep up with the other children. What mattered was him and the way his mind worked. Sharp and inventive that even the very air of Zaun couldn’t dull it.

The two of you spent your days hunting for scraps together, crafting makeshift toys your parents cannot afford, or setting little boats afloat in the polluted streams of the Undercity.

Life in the Undercity was a series of neverending struggles, but when you were with Viktor, it felt lighter somehow. You knew that together you could dream. Like you can achieve anything.

In the dim of the makeshift workshop you two had set up behind an old factory, you would spend hours building and talking about the future. Viktor would sit cross-legged on the ground, cane resting beside him. His golden eyes always alight with a passion that seemed to defy the gloom of your surroundings.

“We will leave someday,” he said, voice filled with determination. “We’ll go to Piltover. The air is clean there, and the people don’t suffer from the smog.”

You smiled at him and chuckled softly, hands busy polishing a piece of scrap metal. “And what will we do there?”

He let himself think for a moment, as if the question caught him off guard. Then he looked at you, his expression unusually serious. “Once we are there, we can change the world,” he said simply.

You laughed, a soft, melodic sound that echoed in the small space. “That is a big dream, Viktor.”

“Hey! It’s not just a dream,” he insisted, gaze unwavering. “We’ll do it. Together.”

"Promise?"

"Promise."

There was something about the way he said it that made you believe him. Viktor’s certainty was infectious. You could see it in the way he worked and the way he poured every ounce of himself into his small inventions.

Some days when his leg hurt too much to move, you would sit beside him to help him sort through the piles of scrap you had collected. He’d teach you the basics of his engineering, he was always patient and thorough while his hands guided yours as you pieced together a simple mechanism.

“See?” he'd say, voice tinged with pride as the small contraption you built whirred to life. “You’re a natural.”

You grinned, the warmth of his praise spreading through you like sunlight.

The days blurred together in work and laughter as your shared dreams served as a beacon in the darkness. It was during one of those days when you were both ten or eleven, that Viktor made a declaration that would stay with you forever.

You were sitting by the river, watching the toy boat Viktor had built move along the surface of the water. The sunlight did its best to pass through the smog, casting a glow over the scene that made the water seem like it was sparkling.

“When we grow up,” Viktor said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm, “I’m going to marry you.”

You turned to look at him, eyes are wide with surprise as you felt the warmth of your blood travel up to your cheeks. Then you laughed, a sound so full of joy. It was music to him. “Then you would have to make me a pretty ring, silly.”

Viktor nodded, his expression earnest. “Of course! Then I’ll build us a house in Piltover, and we’ll have a workshop where we can create anything we want.”

It was a childish promise, one you didn’t take seriously at the time. But for Viktor, it was more than that.

It was a goal; a dream he clung to with every fiber of his being.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

The day you found a cave felt like the start of a new stage of life.

As usual, it began with Viktor’s handmade boat, the delicate creation that floated across the river. You were laughing, like you always do when Viktor is around. It was as if everything's happy when you were together. Your voice echoed through the narrow canyon, laughing until you saw the boat drifting too far downstream.

“I’ll get it!” you called, kicking off your shoes and splashing into the shallow water. Viktor watched from the bank, his cane resting against a rock, his expression was a mix of amusement and mild concern. He would've been the one to dive in if only it wasn't for his leg.

You chased the boat until it got caught against a jagged rock near the mouth of a dark opening in the cliffside. “Vik, look!” you shouted, pointing to the cave.

He limped over to join you, curiosity piqued. The two of you went inside, the cool air of the cave was a contrast to the warmth of the day. The deeper you went, the more excited you grew.

What you found inside changed everything.

As you went further, the light spilling in from the entrance slowly faded, replaced by an eerie green glow. You exchanged a glance with Viktor, “What do you think it is?” you whispered, the volume barely louder than the drip of water from the stalactites above.

“No idea,” Viktor murmured, his fingers tightening around his cane.

The source of the glow soon became clear: a hidden lab, long abandoned yet still pulsing with strange energy. You could almost feel it on your skin. Machines lined the walls, coated in layers of dust. Beakers filled with faintly glowing liquids sat undisturbed on a table alongside half-finished notes and sketches in a language you didn’t understand.

“Woah!” You stepped closer, your breath hitching at the sight. “Viktor, this is awesome!”

He nodded, gaze fixed on a machine in the corner that hummed silently as if it was alive. “Whoever built this was a genius,” he said, his voice filled with awe. He felt like this is where he belonged. For the first time he felt like he belonged. “Imagine what they could have created here.”

It was then that you heard the shuffling of footsteps. You both froze, hearts pounding in unison as a figure emerged from the shadows. He was sharp-featured, eyes glinting with a dangerous intelligence.

“Curious little mice, aren’t you?” the man said.

You instinctively moved closer to Viktor, your hand grabbing his arm. You felt safe that way. “We didn’t mean to intrude,” you said quickly, your voice steady despite the fear curling in your chest.

The man—Singed, as he introduced himself—was a Zaunite alchemist. He seemed more intrigued than angry as his gaze lingered on Viktor with intensity. He asked many questions, probing Viktor about his interest in machines and invention.

“I see potential in you, boy,” Singed said after a long pause, his voice carrying a weight of authority that was impossible to ignore. “A sharp mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted scavenging scraps. I could teach you things. Show you how to truly create.”

Viktor hesitated, his grip tightening around the worn wood of his cane. His knuckles whitened, using his other hand to place it on top of yours that was still rested around his arm. His touch comforted you more that he realized.

“What about her?” he asked, his voice quieter. He glanced at you, golden-brown eyes searching yours as if they were trying to find reassurance, or perhaps permission.

Singed’s gaze shifted to you briefly, cold and judgmental, before dismissing you entirely with a shrug of indifference. “I have no use for distractions,” he said bluntly, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience in Viktor’s path.

The words stung. But what hurt more wasn’t Singed’s dismissal, it was the flicker of emotion on Viktor’s face.

You could see the storm brewing in his eyes. The pull of ambition against the weight of loyalty, the desire to seize an opportunity against the fear of what he’d leave behind.

He looked at you again, his expression was pained and conflicted. “I...” he began, but the words died in his throat.

“Hey, it’s okay!” even though it wasn’t, you still said it while smiling. “You should go, Vik. This is what you always wanted, right?”

The words felt like lead on your tongue, but you said them anyway. Because this was Viktor’s dream, wasn’t it? To break free from the chains of Zaun, to do what he is passionate about and take any step to build a better future. You couldn’t stand in the way of that, no matter how much it hurt.

After that day, everything changed.

Viktor began spending more of his time in the cave with Singed, learning things you couldn’t begin to comprehend. The closeness you shared, the companionship that defined your days, was slowly replaced by distance.

At first, he tried to make time for you. You’d see each other twice a week. His hands and clothes would often smell faintly of chemicals and his mind clearly still preoccupied with whatever he’d been working on.

“How was it?” you’d ask, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

“It’s fascinating,” he’d reply, eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart twist. “There’s so much to learn, so much to do.”

You wanted to be happy for him. You tried. But it was hard not to feel like you were losing him, piece by piece, day by day.

The Viktor you had grown up with, the boy who had dreamed with you, who had promised to build a life together in Piltover, was slipping away.

You can feel it.

Eventually, even the twice-a-week meetings stopped. You hadn't realized that the both of you have grown into teenagers.

You considered that it was just a temporary thing at first, that Viktor was just busy with his new life and his ambitions. But the days turned into weeks, then months, and still, there was no sign of him. You did not bother going to that cave, still too hurt to face that man Singed for the second time.

You went to the places you used to go to frequently together. Hoping to catch a glimpse of him, hoping that the streets of Zaun would somehow bring him back to you. You waited, watched, sometimes even hallucinated he would appear around the corner with that damn crooked smile. The same smile that used to make everything feel okay.

But it never happened.

You said you didn’t care, but then you would be lying to yourself. You didn’t want to care, but the ache in your chest told you otherwise. You missed him more than you were willing to admit. And every time you walked past the spots where you once laughed and talked, where you shared dreams, that pain hit you all over again.

The day your family decided to move out of Zaun was the final blow. You wanted to tell him. No, you needed to tell him. You needed him to know that you were leaving. Maybe, just maybe, he’d say something to stop you from walking away from the place that had once held the dreams you shared.

So, you went to his home.

You stood there. The familiar wooden door that always opened to reveal him, limping toward you with that look of recognition and warmth.

You knocked. And knocked again. Heart pounding in your chest as you waited to hear his voice from the other side. But when the door opened, it wasn’t Viktor who greeted you.

It was an empty, cold silence.

The neighbors told you he’d moved. No one knew where, just that he wasn’t coming back.

The feeling was like a slap in the face.

Since when was he gone?

You couldn’t comprehend it. How could he just leave like that? The memories of all those times, those quiet moments where you had thought you were the most important person in his life suddenly felt like lies.

You convinced yourself, over and over, that he would always come back to see you, to explain himself, that the bond between you was way too strong to break. The amount of times you told yourself, "If he comes back tomorrow, I will forgive him" was beyond ridiculous at this point. Because it never happened, and now, everything seemed foolish.

The anger bubbled up inside you. Burning and consuming. And yet, underneath the anger, there was a deeper, more painful emotion. A quiet sorrow you didn’t want to acknowledge because it was too raw, too unbearable.

"Why..."

The truth was, you loved him. And he left you behind.

The years passed, and you are now in your early twenties. The anger inside you eventually faded. Time, as it always does, softened the sharp edges of your pain. But the emptiness never truly went away.

You tried to fill it with other things, other people, other distractions. But there were nights when his face would appear in your dreams, and you’d wake up with that same hollow feeling in your chest.

You thought about him often, even when you told yourself you wouldn’t. You wondered if he ever thought about you, if he ever regretted how things ended between you two.

You hated yourself. For still caring, for still holding on to something that crumbled a long time ago. You wanted to move on, to forget him and everything he had meant to you. But a part of you still clung to the memories of your childhood.

The laughter, the dreams, the whispered promises.

It was the only thing you had left of him now. It hurt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Progress Day

You found yourself in Piltover, the city you and Viktor had once dreamed of when you were just children playing amidst the grime of Zaun.

He was right. He always is. The air was indeed lighter, free of the toxic smog that choked you since the day you were born. The streets were filled with energy and purpose, lined with tall buildings that gleamed under the bright sun. Progress hummed in every corner, from the click of Hextech gadgets to the chatter of inventors sharing ideas.

You had fought hard to get here. The countless nights spent working until exhaustion, the sacrifices, the dreams you had held onto so tightly—it had all led to this. You should be proud of yourself.

And you were. You could look around at everything you had built and feel the satisfaction of knowing you did it. But no matter how high you climbed, no matter how far you tried to run, it still feels hollow inside. An emptiness that lingered like a ghost.

An emptiness that only Viktor could fill.

Deep inside, you knew that to yourself. It whispered in the quiet moments, when the celebrations died down and you were left alone with your thoughts.

The city was alive with celebration. It was a day to honor the advancements of Piltover after all. You attended one of the more exclusive parties, hosted by none other than Jayce Talis, the prodigy of Hextech innovation. You had little interest in the fanfare, but it was a chance to network, to prove your place among the elite minds of Piltover.

You had expected the night to be uneventful. Mingling with strangers, exchanging polite but fake smiles and calculated compliments. It was all part of the routine by now.

What you hadn’t expected was him.