𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘

                    “ there is an hour, a minute – you will remember it forever –                        when you know instinctively […] that something is wrong. ”

( alex fitzalan, twenty-two, cis man ) hey, was that LACHLAN FAWLEY passing by? so much has happened recently; I haven’t seen the HALF-BLOOD in forever, but I’d recognize HIM anywhere. rumor has it the FOURTH year is studying to be a JOURNALIST. they always reminded me of YOUNG MAN’S BLUES by PARKER McCOLLUM. I’ve also heard they’ve been recruited by THE BANNERET OF BELTANE. but despite all that I think they’re still CURIOUS, ADAPTABLE & JUDICIOUS and RECALCITRANT, JUDGEMENTAL & RECKLESS. and the GRYFFINDOR alum still reminds me of waking up early, so it feels like you have the whole world to yourself; a bland, practiced smile (why should anyone know how you really feel?); calloused fingers strumming well-worn guitar strings; some scented candle always burning in the kitchen window; a cool, salty breeze rolling off the sea and into open arms; heavy rings weighing down fingers that itch to fidget; leaving second thoughts for nights you spend alone. well, then, I guess some things never change.   ( zoe, 23, cst, she/her )

CONTENT WARNINGS:   infidelity, murder & attempted murder, car crashes, stalking, mention of war & hospitals, general bigotry. it’s a doozy, y’all  ADDITIONAL MATERIALS:   lachlan’s playlist,  stats page,  &  pinterest board

                Emmeline was not made for the coolness of a Scottish autumn, despite having gone through at least eight of them. She pulled her thin coat closer to her frame as she stepped out of the house owned by one of her fellow banneret of beltane members. Her hand slipped into her pocket, pulling out a pack of Marlboro’s and bringing one of the sinful sticks to her lips — it was a bad habit she’d picked up from one of the muggle boys she’d had a crush on in the summer before her seventh year. He’d left her with a vice and the first and last heartbreak of her life.

               “Oh Merlin’s hairy left nipple.” One habit Lina hadn’t picked up, however, was keeping a lighter on her at all times. Her mother would’ve washed her mouth out with a quick and swift Scourgify if she heard Lina’s language, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as she patted her pockets desperately, probably looking like a bit of a loony to those who walked past. Another witch a better witch would’ve just cast a nice and controlled _Incendio _and been on their way, but Emmeline was not another witch. Though she’d improved her skills in dueling slightly, she still struggled with charms, and she’d already lost too many eyebrows because of her ego. 

              She’d heard most of her fellow members apparate away, so she started to put away her little bad habits, when one last straggler exited the residence behind her.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a light, would you? I’m willing to share.” She shook the pack invitingly with a smile, hoping he wouldn’t call her out for not being able to cast a relatively simple charm.

         lachlan’s head jerked up at the sound of emmeline’s voice,  fully aware of how startled he probably looked.   jumpy,  maybe,  shit.   he liked to think he wasn’t on edge,  like,  as a general rule;  but then he wasn’t really used to attending banneret meetings without harper and was even less used to people other than harper talking to him after meetings.   he’d been mulling over everything they’d covered,   distracted,  maybe.                          he had friends other than harper.   

he was just distracted enough to not consider any of ‘em wanting to talk. 

            lachlan had enough presence of mind to toss up a silent thanks to,  like,  the universe that he wasn’t close enough to emmeline to have punched her or something.   he was really more of a fight guy than a flight guy.   

         “ shit, “   he said,  already patting down the pockets of his denim jacket.   “ yeah,  actually,  I should have a lighter in here somewhere. “  he found it and held it up,  triumphant.   sometimes he forgot to slip it back into his pockets;   good day for him and emmeline that he hadn’t this time.   “ use it all you want,  though I’ll take you up on the offer to share. “ 

      dorcas  could  not  stop  the  little  laughs  that  started  to  come  out  of  her  throat,  the  whole  thing  was  a  ridiculous  mess  and  it  was  all  because  the  girl  could  not  seem  to  mind  her  own  business.  an  apt  natural  consequence  she  figures.  there  aren’t  many  times  in  her  life  that  dorcas  meadowes  is  ever  speechless,  but  this  moment  is  definitely  one  of  those  moments  where  she  is—  an  she  is  equally  as  mortified.  however  hearing  the  ramblings  of  none  other  than  lachlan  fawley  makes  her  snap  back  to  the  reality  of  the  mess  before  her.   ❛  ah  yeah,  yeah  cast  a  reparo.  .  .  just  uh—  let  me  find  my  wand  ,  ❜  she  sputters  out,  wiping  one  last  time  at  her  ruined  tights,  patting  her  hands  along  the  waist  band  of  her  skirt  where  she  normally,  nine  point  nine  times  out  of  ten  leaves  her  wand,  but  it’s  not  there.  

       ❛  oh  fuck  ,  ❜  dorcas  whispers  underneath  her  breathe,  slinging  her  bag  back  in  front  of  her  to  riffle  through  it  again.  nodding  along  to  whatever  the  man  was  saying,  dorcas  just  kept  searching  and  searching  for  the  one  thing  that  would  help  with  this  mess.  she  knew  that  she  could  just  do  a  simple  cast  and  everything  would  go  back  to  the  way  that  it  was  but  without  that  stupid  little  piece  of  wood,  she  was  going  to  be  in  for  a  hefty  bill  from  the  shop.    

      ❛  i  know  which  wand  you’re  talking  about .  .  .  ❜  she  trailed  off,  looking  lachlan  up  and  down  before  she  threw  her  bag  back  over  her  shoulder,  the  damn  thing  not  in  her  bag.  dropping  to  her  knees,  dorcas  felt  her  hands  make  contact  with  the  pool  of  ink.  looking  underneath  all  the  shelving.   ❛  just  keep  an  eye  out  for  the  shop  keeper  and  cast  the  charm,  ❜  she  delegated,  stretching  her  arm out  underneath  a  shelf  and  feeling  her  fingers  grasp  at  the  feeling  of  wood.   ❛  yes  !  ❜  

      pulling  out  the  wand,  the  witch  sat  back  against  her  heels,  trying  to  shake  off  any  ink  and  a  stray  piece  of  glass  from  her  fingers.     ❛  as  much  i  would  love  to  spend  the  next  half  hour  giving  you  a  lesson  in  charms,  "  she  started,  letting  her  wand  do  the  work  to  funnel  the  ink  back  into  the  repaired  glass  jars,  she  smiled  to  herself.   ❛  i  got  it,  ❜  she  said,  watching  the  display  come  back  together.  the  ink  leaving  a  faint  stain  of  her  palms  and  when  she  finally  returned  to  her  feet,  she  once  more  surveyed  that  damage  to  her  clothes.  

      ❛  thanks  for  fixing  the  jars  .  .  .  i  zoned  out  a  little,  i  guess,  ❜   dorcas  finished,  trying  to  make  a  good  excuse  for  herself  other  than  just  being  nosy.  

         “ shiiiiiiit, “   lachlan said,  once again,  when it became very clear very quickly that dorcas’ wand was a casualty in this mess.   he didn’t think she was even listening to him anymore,  which,  fair;   if he’d knocked over a whole fucking display of very staining ink in what he was increasingly starting to believe were very expensive bottles,  and then lost his wand?   he’d be halfway out of his damn mind.   

thinking of it that way, dorcas was surprisingly on top of her shit.                        not,  like,  wholly on top of her shit.  but on top of her shit for the situation at hand.   

        lachlan used his foot to kind of kick some of the glass-dust into a mostly neat little pile.  he didn’t think that would actually help with the reparo,  but it made him feel better about it,  like he was preparing,  or something.   this whole little reparo felt more high stakes than any one he’d ever cast before   —   maybe ‘cause he was doing it for someone else.   dorcas,  and the shop owner both.   he gave a practiced flick of his de-pocketed wand,  and watched the neat little pile of glass-dust shift and move apart into a couple of bottles,  just as shiny as they’d been before but maybe a little bumpier around the corners.                                gave the glass character. 

he looked back up at dorcas with a grin.   “ I’m glad the joke landed,  then.   kinda a shitty joke but I’m really not that funny in high stress scenarios. “   he nodded approvingly as dorcas got the ink all wrangled and back in the bottles.   a stray piece of glass she shook off her fingers wriggled in the air until it latched onto its bottle,  adding another little lump on the lip of it.   

               “ I don’t need lessons in charms, “   he said,  mustering up an offended tone that was only half feigned.   something to lighten the mood,  but also,  like,  to assure dorcas that he was competent enough to live.   defend his honor as an adult.         “ I’m as good as I’m ever gonna get,  baby,  outta hogwarts and outta mind.   got an a on my n.e.w.t.s,  even if that means fuck all now,  so I’ve decided that I’ve taken all the charms classes I’ve gotta. “ 

                           he shook his head.   “ no need for the thanks,  though. “   lachlan shrugged.   “ I’ve got a shady face,  if the shop owner had come out and seen the wreckage they’d have probably just blamed me anyway. “   

        lachlan threw himself into a seat in rabastan’s room,   doing his best to balance on the knife’s edge between sprawling out and,  y’know,  respecting rab’s space.   and rab’s stuff.   and rab’s stuff’s space.   “ so  …  “   he ducked his head a little,   mulling over his phrasing before deciding,  fuck it,  rab didn’t need him to mince words.   he looked up at him,  teasing smile on his face.   “ I’m gonna go out on a limb and say the annual hogsmeade harvest festival isn’t really your scene. “   

             “ feels like old times,  huh? “   lachlan asked,  jostling his shoulder against laurel’s.   he tried to inject as much    pep  &  lightness    into the words as he could   —   how much   lightness  &  pep    was the normal amount for,  like,  reminiscing with your sibling?   whatever.   he shook his head and cast a gaze around the festival.   “ well,  not actually,  I guess.   old times would involve the whole fawley gang tagging along with our fun. “ 

                 “ are you,  uh,  fuckin’ … “   lachlan gave a half-hearted gesture towards the place where two lines were getting real tangled,  squinting at severus.   for all the grumbling he’d heard,  every trip into hogsmeade all of september,   the festival was as   packed  &  crowded   as it ever got.   more,  maybe.   “ waiting to get hot cider or,  I guess,  to see the petting zoo?   looks like they’ve got kneazles this year,  that feels ill-advised. “ 

Hestia was trying to decide which clubs to join. It was something she had put aside for a long time, but it was time for her to choose. However, it was quite difficult to choose, especially when Hestia liked a lot of options. She gave a little grunt and said “How hard is it to choose! I just wish you had more info on what’s waiting for you when you enter the clubs.” The girl was desperate. Sitting alone, anyone who passes for her and listens to her would think she was crazy.

“ it’s kind of a gamble,  yeah, “   lachlan admitted;  stopped on a dime, one foot in the air still ready to walk on past hestia.  but they were talking now,  so he couldn’t just   —   keep walking.  seemed kinda mean.   he put his foot down and pivoted some to face her head on where she sat,  half a smile on half his face.  “ I just went off the club names and crossed my fingers they weren’t a total waste of my time,  y’know.  if you’re having a hard time deciding you could always throw some darts at the pamphlets they handed out.   just join the ones a dart lands on. “

      dorcas  meadowes  had  a  problem  and  it  was  one  that  had  started  in  her  very  first  year  at  hogwarts.  it  was  a  problem  that  dorcas  could  not  seem  to  get  free  from.  dorcas  meadowes  had  quite  the  obsession  with  stationary.  she  loved  it.  dorcas  had  more  quills  than  she  knew  what  to  do  with  most  times—  she  loved  ones  specifically  for  how  they  wrote  on  parchment,  how  some  quills  would  glide  swiftly  across  a  page,  or  those  specific  ones  that  wrote  beautifully  but  were  controllable  enough  for  her  to  write  in  the  margins  of  her  books.  notes  and  thoughts  littered  the  pages,  some  of  genuine  meaning  and  others  being  a  ❛  WHY  !  ?  ❜  that  was  underlined  several  times.  

       so  it  wasn’t  a  surprise  that  dorcas  found  herself  wandering  through  the  stalls  of  scrivenshaft’s.  the  touch  of  the  parchment,  the  smell  alone  keeps  dorcas  coming  back  in  to  spend  the  meadowes  family  fortune  on  the  stationary.  well,  what  they  don’t  know  won’t  hurt  them.  

      the  bell  above  the  shoppe  door  ringing  tore  her  attention  away  from  her  wandering.  she  didn’t  believe  herself  to  be  a  nosy  person,  but  she  would  be  lying  to  herself  if  she  didn’t  almost  always  crane  her  neck  to  see  who  else  would  be  walking  in.

      however,  this  time  her  eyes  rested  upon  someone  who  always  seemed  like  a  ghost  to  her.  it  wasn’t  that  she  never  saw  him  around,  but  dorcas  can’t  even  conjure  up  the  last  time  she  spoke  to  lachlan  fawley  in  her  mind.  it  was  not  that  the  two  did  not  like  each  other,  it  was  just  they  ran  in  different  circle  and  their  only  real  connection  to  each  other  being  gideon  prewett—  who  was  obviously  still  missing  in  action.  

      for  those  extra  moments  that  dorcas  continued  to  let  her  gaze  rest  upon  lachlan,  she  wasn’t  aware  enough  to  feel  her  foot  catch  on  a  uneven  tile.  her  body  falling  forward  before  she  could  consider  her  surroundings  and  when  she  slapped  her  hand  out  to  grab  onto  something,  anything!  she  felt  her  hand  send  an  entire  display  of  ink  bottles  flying  to  the  ground.  a  quick  yelp  coming  from  her  lips  as  she  got  back  to  her  feet.  

       ❛   fuck !  ❜  she  whispered,  taking  in  the  mess  of  ink  that  was  now  splattered  all  over  her  tights  and  skirt,  whipping  around  to  meet  the  eyes  of  lachlan  fawley,  ❛      not    a    word    to    anyone,  understood    ?      ❜    dorcas  finished  with,  ripping  her  bag  in  front  of  her  to  scramble  through  it  to  find  a  handkerchief  with  a  small  laugh  starting  to  bubble  out.

        “ oh, shit, “   lachlan said.  gave himself a moment to really take in the scene in front of him   —   think  oh, shit,  to himself a couple of times as the events unfolded,  as could only be expected.   dorcas tripped;  oh, shit.   dorcas reached out to grab something;  oh, shit.   an entire display of ink fell down;  oh, shit.   he took a tentative step forward towards dorcas,  then glanced down at all the ink puddles and broken glass populating the tile between them.  lachlan thought better of it.   he wasn’t exactly clumsy,  but he wasn’t so quick on his feet that he could be certain he’d make it over to her without,  like,  absolutely eating it.                            “ should I cast a reparo? “ 

he glanced up and saw dorcas whip out a handkerchief.  smart,  but he suspected it wouldn’t be enough for the floor.  he brought a hand up to swipe over his mouth,  rub at his jaw.   this was a situation.   he eyed the floor again,  all the little pieces of the inkwells,  the bits of glass that seemed to have turned to fine powder the second they crashed to the floor.   “ I’m only decent at charms,  so I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get that liquid back in the bottles while casting the mending charm. “ 

            lachlan swept his hand away from his face and towards the floor;  this wide,  sweeping sort of gesture that didn’t say much of anything but really couldn’t be helped.   he talked with this hands,  and boy,  was this a mess that practically begged for gesticulation.   “ alright,  like,  yeah,  I promise I won’t tell anyone.  but also, we should probably clean this up soon or else I’ll have to,  y’know,  tell the shop owner when they come up and see the mess. “  

                            he shrugged.  “ and like I just said,  I’m alright at mending charms but probably not good enough to get the liquid back in,  so you can just   …   think about how to get the liquid back in,  while I get my wand out. “  he cocked his head,  one hand already reaching back to his pocket.   “ my literal wand,  that is. “  

                     " feels like a dangerous question to answer.

     I mean   …   probably gideon,  yeah?   but we can’t let that get to his head. “ 

" … I can think of a couple. 

                  well.  two.  rhymes with   sharper  &   stab. “ 

                  " do you ever feel like your face is disconnected from my fist?   what the fuck kinda question is that?    obviously not.   no;  ask laurel,  I'm sure they'd rather I felt disconnected sometimes,   I'm so fucking   —   connected. "

harper 

“baby!”  harper  exclaimed  as  she  watched  rab  walk  through  the  door  of  the  three  broomsticks,  obviously  overjoyed  to  see him.  she  had  only  had  a  few  drinks,  but  she  could  tell  that  the  alcohol  was  already  starting  to  affect  her.  “you  made  it!”  grinning,  she  gripped  onto  one  of  lachlan’s  hands  and  she  began  to  make  her  way  through  the  crowd.  as  she  walked,  harper  made  a  conscious  effort  to  not  trip  over  any  of  the  other  patron’s  feet  —  the  last  thing  that  she  wanted  to  do  was  make  a  fool  out  of  herself  in  front  of  the  two  people  that  she  desired  to  impress  the  most.  “see,  i  told  ‘ya  he’d  come.”  she  smirked  and  squeezed  lachlan’s  hand  before  standing  on  her  tip-toes,  planting  a  quick  kiss  against  rab’s  cheek.  

“are  you  sure  you’re  okay  with  this?”  harper  gestured  towards  the  swarm  of  people  surrounding  them,  her  eyebrows  narrowed  in  concern.  their  relationship  had  been  kept  a  secret  since  it   had  begun  and  it  never  bothered  her  all  that  much;  because  she  knew  what  would  happen  to  them  if  they  were  to  be  exposed.  and  now,  especially  with  lachlan’s  involvement  in  the  whole  affair,  she  wanted  to  make  sure  that  rab  was  absolutely  certain  that  he  was  alright  with  meeting  them  in  such  a  public  place.  “because  we  can  go  somewhere  else,  if  you  want…  it’s  up  to  you.”  —  @xbustian​

rabastan 

           his  eyes  widened  as  the  word  echoed  throughout  the  three  broomsticks   ,   his  gaze  moving  about  as  he  studied  the  people  around  him   .  did  anyone  catch  that   ?     “   control  your  girlfriend   !    ”   he  growled  at  lachlan   ,   falling  victim  to  his  own  paranoia    .    he  immediately  felt  guilty   ,   especially  upon  realizing  no  one  was  paying  attention   .   he  sometimes  forgot  what  it  felt  like  to  be  anonymous   (   though  not  TOO  anonymous  as  there  were  several  faces  he  recognized   )   .   it  was  hard  not  to  allow  his  bitterness  and  cynicism  to  control  his  behavior   .   rabastan  was   ,   first  and  foremost   ,   a  product  of  his  environment    .   he  imagined  that  years  of  careful  planning   ,    silently  wishing  for  a  love  that  never  came  had  something  to  do  with  it   .   and  the  familial  affection  that  people  like  harper  and  lachlan  received   ?   he  was  given  in  a  way  that  was  both  twisted  and  abusive   .   he  thought  of  all  the  bullshit  he  was  never  given  and  all  the  pain  he  gave  in  return   ,    honing  in  on  the  fact  that  despite  the  anger  and  the  violence   ,   a  part  of  him  wanted  love   .   to  be  loved   .  

          and  harper   ,   his  sweet   ,  sweet  harper   ,   almost  exposed  them  all  with  a  simple  word  and  a  kiss  on  his  cheek   .    but  he  was  being  abrasive   .  no  one  noticed  and  he  was  horrified  to  think  he  treated  them  the  same  way  he  treated  others   .   “  fuck   .   ”   he  whispered  with  a  furrowed  brow   ,   apologetic  eyes  moving  between  the  pair   .    “   i  want  to  stay   …   and  i  want  you  to  pretend  i  didn’t  say  that   .   i  didn’t  mean  to   .   ”   he  should  say  sorry   ,   but  the  word  always  burned  his  tongue   .   made  him  want  to  vomit   .   “   there’s  a  table  in  the  back   .    i  can  see  it   .   i’ll  meet  you  there    ?    i  can               ”    he  pointed  toward  the  bar   ,   still  feeling  uncomfortable  being  so  close  to  them   and  yet     ,   driven  by  his  own  insecurities  and  paranoia   ,   unable  to  touch  them   .   he  wanted  to  caress  harper’s  cheek  and  whisper  sweet  nothings  in  her  ear   ;   let  her  know  she  did  nothing  wrong   .    he  wanted  crush  lachlan’s  lips  to  his  own   ,   run  his  fingers  through  his  wavy  hair   .   but  he  couldn’t   .   he  did  it  to  himself   .   “             i  can  get  you  refills   .   ”   //  @fawlley​

            lachlan tightened his grip on harper’s hand,   almost unconsciously.   the fingers of his spare hand itched to reach out and grasp one of rabastan’s,  too,  but he figured that that might be too much.   he could feel his eyebrows scrunching together,  an ever - watchful gaze cataloguing each minute shift in rabastan’s expression,   from sharpness to remorse;   like,   if he couldn’t touch rabastan with his hands,  he’d let his eyes rest on him as much as he wanted to.   not quite searching;   if you knew well enough where to look,  it wasn’t that hard to read him. 

“ hey, “   he said,   trying to sound soothing without dipping into condescension.   and,  above all,  not trying to sound so out of the ordinary that their little pocket of anonymity caught anyone’s eyes.   this,  still   ( even with harper’s unbridled happiness at catching sight of rabastan )   could pass for the two of them catching up with a classmate   —   nothing more than that.   “ it’s fine.   she seemed just as happy to see kitty abbott,  when we ran into her earlier.   no one’ll think anything of this. “ 

                           it was a promise,  and he meant it,  but it still kind of stung.   

            𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛: hogwarts college grounds             𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒: august 31, 1980

lachlan was tempted,  sometimes,  to act like he was too cool to count his sister as one of his best friends.   like,  he knew enough to know that most people didn’t really lump  ‘ siblings ‘   in the same category as  ‘ best friends, ‘   but also couldn’t really bring himself to care about that most days.   there were plenty of people he knew that he’d want to say hi to,  catch up with,  at some point before things kicked into full swing;   he’d literally just seen laurie earlier that day,  and like,  by all accounts,  didn’t need to go say hi again.                              he kind of felt like being a shit about it,  though.                    wanted to duck into her room and make himself a nuisance anyway.   

          what was stopping him?   certainly not the trunk waiting at the foot of his bed,  as unpacked as it would likely remain for the foreseeable future,  until he banged his shin into it one too many times and decided living out of it wasn’t worth the bruises.   if laurie was making productive use of their time and unpacking,  that was their problem,  and she’d just have to deal with him invading their space. 

mind made up,   he ventured out to laurel’s room and knocked on the door,   needier than a clingy child and twice as obnoxious.   some other person on her floor peeked out of their room and glared at him;   which,  fine,  alright.   he toned down the knocking,  cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to laurie’s door,   “ are you planning on just leaving me out here? “

            𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛: hogwarts college grounds             𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒: august 31, 1980

lachlan knew he was cutting it pretty close to the wire to arrive at either of the night’s event while people were still,  y’know,  sober & cogent enough to make note of his arrival.   he was pretty sure there was a dinner portion to the dean’s mixer   —   the invitation that was still hemorrhaging glitter all over his unpacked trunk,  but he recalled some mention of a dessert course.   he wasn’t exactly a fancy son of a bitch but he was pretty sure events with dinner portions wanted people there early enough to sit down and eat the damn dinner.              he thought if he went now he’d barely be in time for that dessert course.                                was it rude to only go to a party to eat its dessert?   

fuck it,  either way,  he knew where his feet were taking him,  and it wasn’t to travers hall.  he passed another lone traveler on one of the little cobbled pathways that cut through campus,   and found himself wondering where they were choosing to spend the night.             “ hey! “  he called out to the figure   —   either shrouded in literal shadows or just wearing too much black,  he couldn’t fucking tell.   “ where’re you headed,  stranger?   need a walking buddy? “