Summary: Reader is at her local bar in town when cowboy!niki walks in, clearly on the run but ready to take you with him. Set in 1800s Texas.
Warnings: language, tension
• Sitting at the bar was part of your daily routine by now. Ever since your sister left town with her husband, you were the only one in your family left here. Everybody else had either ran away or passed.
• You had never wished for much in your life, only for it to end happily, surrounded by your children and grandchildren. However, with every day that passed that dream seemed to be further away.
• You placed a dime on the table in front of you and sipped your beer, spinning around on the stool to look at the entirety of the bar. There were people in here you had known your whole life: Bill in the corner who was the sweetest old man, Jerry who always showed off his pistol, Harold who would challenge anyone to a game of poker, and Paul who had no interest in people at all.
• The door swung open as a man stepped into the bar, his hair draped over his forehead in greased strands, a bead of sweat falling from them. His shirt was grey and checkered, fitting him loosely underneath a thick jacket. Why on Earth would he be wearing such a thing in this hot weather?
• You had never seen this man before which was unusual for a small town like yours. Perhaps he was just one of the many that passed through for an hour or so. One of those who have a drink before getting back on their horses and on the road.
• He strode over towards the bar, towards you, and placed himself down on a seat a few feet away from you where you could get a better look at him.
• You had to admit, he was quite handsome. His face was chiseled in the perfect way, he looked the slightest bit feminine but in a good way. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of chocolate brown you had ever seen. His hair was a peculiar blonde with hints of silver, but perhaps it was just the lighting. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen now that you thought about it.
• “Well hello there, ma’am,” he spoke, his eyes locking onto yours. You froze for a moment, his voice was velvety and comforting yet it held a piercing violence behind it. Your eyes glanced down to the open pocket of his jacket where you saw the brim of a WANTED poster. Was he on the run?
• “Why hello, sir,” you replied, being as respectful and ladylike as possible. Just like your mother taught you.
• “Don’t go calling me sir how, pretty thing, you might get me excited,” he winked, causing a hot flush to rise into your cheeks and flood you ears with a deep crimson. He chuckled. “Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to make you all flustered there.”
• “Oh, it’s quite alright Mr…” you paused.
• “ The names Ni-ki, darlin’, but you can call me Riki.” he said, tossing you another wink as if he had given you a special offer.
• “Very well, Riki,” you replied. “What brings you to town?”
• The conversation between the two of you flowed for at least an hour before he abruptly checked his watch and jumped out of his seat, collecting the remaining change of his on the table and scurrying over to the door.
• At first, you thought he was going to leave without saying goodbye but he held it open and looked back at you. “you gonna sit there lookin’ all pretty or are ya gonna get your little ass up and follow me?”
• Against your will, a small grin crept upon your face as you took a final sip of your beer, the last you would ever have here. You placed a kiss to Bills cheek as you passed him at the corner table, waved a goodbye to Old Rick behind the bar and followed Riki out of the door, unknowingly stepping into the greatest tears of the rest of your life.
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I'm thinkin about Christian Reed. yk from dance academy. this one.
horribly low res but beautiful nonetheless. three pixels of pure beauty. I'm thinking about you and Christian being very very reluctant pas de deux partners. you both have trust issues, you both have things you don't really want to talk about, you both have pasts. something in Miss Raine tells her to put you together, and by god is it worth it. dance, especially ballet, is the only place that you can manage to get your brain to just shut up for a little while. it's an escape from everything you don't want to think about, everything you want to run away from. when you dance, it's quiet. it's an escape. solace. and now you have to dance with Christian. Christian who has a snarky little nickname for you, who stares at you a little longer than he should. Christian who makes your heart pound even though you'd die before admitting it. it took you some time to warm up to each other, but it wasn't awkward like it was between Kat and Sean, or Abigail and Sammy, or Tara and everyone she's been paired up with. it wasn't about learning to be coordinated and in sync with each other, it felt more like meeting in the middle. your bonding exercise was 20 questions, and you both quickly found out which topics to avoid with each other, and where you have common ground. you formed an uneasy truce after that, and your already promising dancing started improving greatly. now you both secretly look forward to class a little more. Christian is warm, even when he doesn't act like it. you can always feel his body heat behind you, and his hands on your waist make you feel... small. his grip is sturdy and his movements are steadfast. you can deal with all that, deal with the feeling of him lifting you up like it's nothing, spin you around like a music box ballerina, you can even deal with the looks in the mirror and the muttered comments under his breath that only you can hear, that almost make you lose focus. it's his breath on your shoulder and eyes on your neck that make you nervous. gravity loses its grip on you when he lifts you, when he spins you around, and something about you warms him up. you get his blood pumping, you add a fluidity and artistry to his every move, in and out of class. it's early in the year, there's a long way to go and a lot of drama to get through on the way, but you've both improved drastically already, and you're quickly becoming top of your classes. it's still to early to say, but Miss Raine is sure she made the right decision in pairing you up. she's excited to watch you help each other grow, and your classmates are excited to watch the electric chemistry between you, watch the sparks fly and tension grow. you and Christian are just excited for you next pas de deux class.
Three weeks have passed since the day I stepped into Hogwarts, and it has slowly become my home. My bedside table was gradually becoming cluttered with more things gifted to me from Willow or Pansy, and my wardrobe was expanding into something more acceptable for Hogwarts students.
The green hangings around my bed no longer felt suffocating. The low light of the Slytherin common room didn’t make me feel like I was hiding in the depths of the lake anymore. Even the distant creaks and groans of the castle at night had become familiar.
I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, a book open in my lap - one of the few I had brought from Beauxbatons - when Willow flopped dramatically onto the mattress beside me.
“You cannot keep doing this,” she announced.
I didn’t look up. “Doing what?”
“Hiding in here every evening like you’re allergic to human interaction.”
“I interact,” I said calmly, turning a page. “I attended dinner. I spoke twice. That’s practically a social event.”
Willow groaned and rolled onto her back, staring up at the canopy. “You are impossible.”
I allowed myself the smallest smile. Willow had become a constant presence in my life — loud where I was quiet, bold where I was cautious. She filled the silences I didn’t know how to.
“The group is in the common room,” she continued. “Malfoy’s down there. Pansy too. Blaise. Theo. I think Enzo's off on some date."
My fingers stilled slightly on the page at the mention of his name.
“I have studying to do,” I replied evenly.
Willow rolled onto her side and peered at me suspiciously. “You’re already studying.”
“I can study harder.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You two are ridiculous.”
I closed the book slowly. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
The truth was, things with Draco Malfoy had only grown worse.
At first, it had been subtle — quiet remarks in Potions, a muttered insult in the corridor, the occasional pointed comment about bloodlines spoken just loud enough for me to hear. I had ignored him. Or tried to.
"Look," I said, peering at her from the edge of my book. "I don't want to associate with that bleached blonde fucker any more than I have to. He's disgusting."
Willow blinked at me. Then her lips twitched.
“Blimey,” she muttered. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
I dropped my gaze back to the page, pretending my pulse hadn’t just jumped at my own words. I didn’t swear often. I didn’t react often. But Draco Malfoy had a way of prying under my skin and pulling out the worst of me.
“I mean it,” I said more quietly. “He thinks he’s untouchable.”
Willow shifted on my bed, tucking her legs beneath her. “He sort of is, Bea. His father—”
“I don’t care about his father,” I cut in, sharper than I intended.
Silence hung between us for a moment.
Willow studied me carefully. “You care more than you’re letting on.”
I closed the book with a soft thud and set it aside. “No. I don’t. He’s just another arrogant pure-blood who thinks the world belongs to him.”
-
The following morning, Dumbledore had ordered everyone to gather in the Great Hall for 8 am, not a minute later. The castle buzzed with confusion.
Students poured out of their common rooms in various states of disarray, ties half-done and hair unbrushed. Even the Slytherins, who usually carried themselves with composed indifference, looked mildly irritated at the early summons.
I walked beside Pansy in silence, Willow hanging behind, caught up in conversation with Draco and Lorenzo, the stone corridors still dim with early morning light filtering through the high windows.
“What do you think it is?” she whispered.
“No idea,” I replied honestly.
The doors to the Great Hall were wide open by the time we arrived, and everyone was walking to their house tables and sitting down. On the way past, I caught Cedric's eye, and he raised a brow in confusion. I shrug my shoulders in response.
At the centre of the staff table sat Albus Dumbledore, hands folded neatly before him, eyes twinkling in a way that made me uneasy.
The doors at the front of the Hall opened again, and two unfamiliar figures stepped inside — a stern-looking witch with tightly pulled-back hair and a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked hair and a magical eye that whirred faintly in its socket.
A murmur swept through the Hall.
I didn’t recognise the witch.
But the man—
I had even heard of him.
Alastor Moody.
Dumbledore rose slowly, lifting his hands for silence. The Hall obeyed at once.
“Good morning,” he began warmly. “I trust you are all wondering why I have called you here at such an early hour.”
A ripple of quiet laughter moved through the students.
“There is a reason,” he continued, his voice carrying effortlessly through the vast space. “One that marks a historic moment for Hogwarts.”
Beside me, Willow straightened.
Across the table, Draco leaned forward slightly.
“For the first time in many years,” Dumbledore said, eyes gleaming, “Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Triwizard Tournament."
Excited whispers exploded across every table. Gryffindors nearly jumped out of their seats. Hufflepuffs gasped. Ravenclaws immediately began speculating under their breath.
Even the Slytherin table stirred with interest.
Dumbledore continued. "Now, for those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school, a single student is selected to compete."
I look down the table to see the reactions of my house to see Draco and Theo whispering excitedly amongst themselves. Seems like the devil himself can be happy about some things.
"Now let me be clear," Dumbledore states. "If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say, these contests are not for the faint-hearted."
"Aw, what a shame, Pansy, I guess you'll be missing out," Draco chuckled, earning a slap from the brunette girl.
"Well in," I say, winking at her.
"For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!" Dumbledore exclaims as the doors to the Great Hall open.
Willow looks at me with excitement drawn across her face. "Bea! Maybe you know some of the girls."
I nod, a tight smile on my face. "Maybe."
Gasps echo around the Hall as a group of girls, dressed in the iconic blue uniform come strutting into the hall. I recognise a few of them from some of my classes, but it wasn't anything exciting, let's say.
In sync with each other, the girls all float a hand across as blue butterflies float around the room, almost every boy in the Hall swooning at them in literal seconds. I find myself looking over at Pansy and Willow, a confused look on my face as the Beauxbatons continue their entrance.
"Are they for real?" Pansy says, her voice dripping with dissatisfaction.
"You didn't do that, did you, Buckley?" Draco sneers from across the table.
I shoot him a cold glare.
"I'm glad youre not there now, your ugly little pig face would've ruined the show." He says, nudging Goyle with his arm, the round boy chuckling in false agreement and sending me an apologetic glance.
"Put a sock in it, Malfoy," I say, turning back to watch the girls.
Everyone claps when the Beauxbatons finish their routine, and when I say everyone, I mean mostly the boys.
"And now, our friends from the North," Dumbledore says, holding his hands up to silence everyone. "Please greet the proud sons of Drumstrang!"
"Now this is more like it," I hear Willow say from beside me, earning a giggle of approval from both Pansy and me.
I hear a scoff behind me, but I don't bother checking whose.
The men enter the Great Hall, banging what seem to be large wooden canes on the ground, sparks flying at each movement. I had to give it to them; they looked good.
I turned to the girls as the Drumstrang boys entered. "Bloody hell, what did their mothers feed them? They're gorgeous."
Another scoff. "Oh, please, as if you could get anyone. Filthy half-blood."
I turn my head slightly to look at Draco. "You jealous?"
"Me? jealous?" He rolls his eyes and paints disgust across his face. "I'd rather jump off the top of the astronomy tower than have any interest in you."
I give him a sarcastic smile, "Don't worry, the feeling's mutual."
As soon as I think their routine is coming to a close, I hear a squeal from beside me. Pansy.
"Is that Viktor Krum?"
Indeed, it was.
"Your attention, please!" Dumbledore shouts as the new arrivals gather in a group opposite the Beauxbatons girls. "I would like to say a few words. Eternal glory, that is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this, the student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks."
"That's sick," Matteo says, a little too loud.
Dumbledore continues. "For this reason, the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain this, we have the head of the department of international magic cooperation, Mister Bartimus Crouch."
A small man steps forward, his moustache wonky on his face and his hat a little too big for his head.
"After much deliberation, the ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final."
Groans echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls from all directions. Draco bangs the table in annoyance, a snarl across his face.
"What's wrong, Malfoy?" I tease. "Are you not embarrassingly unsuccessful enough that you wanted to fail at this, too?"
"Watch your mouth, bitch," he snaps, his reaction bringing a small grin to my face.
Dumbledore quietens everyone down and pulls a large cloth from some form of cup.
"The Goblet of Fire. Anyone willing to submit themselves for the tournament must write their name on a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there's no turning back. As from this moment," he pauses for dramatic effect. "The Triwizard Tournament has begun."
-
A/N: This one was kind of a filler chapter to help us understand the story (I know you all know what happens, but I wanted to include the context). I also wanted to show how the hatred between Draco and Bea has grown significantly.
The rest of the morning was a blur. I barely remembered walking to Charms with Willow, or sitting through the lesson on levitation spells. What I did remember, though, was how persistent Willow was in knowing every detail about mine and Cedric's conversation.
"Oh, come on, Bea!" she exclaims. "I've been here for four years and never had a conversation longer than 'hi' with him. You've been here for a day, and it seems like you two had a great little chat."
"Exactly, Willow," I say. "I've been here for a day."
She sighs, admitting defeat. "I'm giving it two months, and you two are gonna be snogging like you're getting paid for it."
I laugh and swat a hand at her, "You're ridiculous."
"Just wait," she says with a wink. "I have an eye for these things."
We entered the Great Hall and made our way to the Slytherin table when what I am convinced is the most annoying voice to have ever existed interrupted my day.
"Well, well. If it isn't the lost little Beatrice."
I froze, all my thoughts scattering. Draco. Of course.
I didn't turn to face him immediately. Instead, I just stood there, feeling a wave of annoyance rise within me. Was he seriously going to start this again?
"What do you want, Draco?" I asked, keeping my voice level, though I could hear the bite in it.
I heard him step closer, his shoes clicking on the stone floor. "I'm just trying to figure you out, Buckley. It's not every day I see someone from Beauxbatons slumming it in Slytherin."
I could feel his gaze on me, and my muscles tensed. He was just trying to get under my skin, I knew it.
I turned slowly, finally meeting his eyes. "Well, you're doing a great job, aren't you?"
Draco smirked, his usual arrogant self. "It's not hard. You're easy to read."
I clenched my jaw. Easy to read? He didn't know a damn thing about me.
"Let me guess," he continued, leaning in slightly, his voice soft enough that only I could hear. "You think you're different, don't you? Special. You're here because you chose to be in Slytherin. But we both know better, don't we?"
"What are you talking about?" I ask. "I didn't choose anything."
He chuckles and looks over at his friends. "How else would a dirty little blood traitor like you have gotten into Slytherin?"
Before I could say anything, Willow stepped in front of me, her body blocking Draco's view.
"Shut up, Malfoy," she said, her voice low but firm. "If you're going to make some sort of commentary on Beatrice, at least have the decency to make it less disgusting."
Draco tilted his head, clearly unbothered. "Oh, don't worry, Greene. I'm not trying to have a conversation with her. I'm just pointing out the obvious." He gave a slight, dismissive wave and then turned, strolling back to the rest of his group without another word.
I exhaled, feeling a weight lift off my chest now that he was gone. But the sting of his words lingered.
"You okay?" Willow asked quietly, glancing over her shoulder at me.
"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."
She studied me for a moment, but said nothing. She could tell I wasn't fine, but she also knew better than to push me. Still, something was comforting in her silent understanding.
We sat down at the Slytherin table, and I tried to focus on the food in front of me. But Draco's words kept echoing in my mind. I knew I shouldn't have been bothered by him, but it was hard not to at times.
The afternoon passed uneventfully. The next class was Transfiguration, which I knew I would need to pay attention to. Professor McGonagall had always been tough but fair at Beauxbatons, and I didn't expect it to be any different here.
But as I walked toward the classroom with Willow, my thoughts kept drifting back to Draco. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear his mocking tone, his words about me choosing Slytherin, and it bothered me more than it should have.
When we reached the door to the classroom, Willow nudged me. "You're not going to let him ruin your day, are you?"
I hesitated, glancing at her. "I don't know. I just wish he'd leave me alone."
"I get it," she said, her voice serious now. "But remember, you're not here to let him, or anyone for that matter, decide who you are. You don't owe him anything."
I nodded, though a small part of me still burned with frustration. Willow was right, of course. I didn't have to care what Draco thought. But it wasn't that simple, was it? Not when he had this uncanny ability to make me second-guess myself, to push me to places I didn't want to go.
As we entered the Transfiguration classroom and found our seats, I couldn't shake the feeling that Draco wasn't going to let up anytime soon. And for some reason, that made me feel like I was walking through a storm that hadn't yet reached its peak.
-
Later that afternoon, after dinner, Willow and I decided to take a walk around the courtyard to clear our heads. The weather was surprisingly warm for October, the air crisp with a hint of the coming autumn chill. We strolled through the archways and stone pathways, taking in the peacefulness of the Hogwarts grounds, a quiet respite from the bustle of the castle.
Willow had been prattling on about her latest misadventures with some of the other Slytherins, but I wasn't really listening.
We rounded a corner near the courtyard when I noticed a group of students sprawled out on the grass in front of the castle. There, leaning against a tree, was Cedric Diggory, his warm brown eyes laughing with his friends. A group of Hufflepuffs were gathered around him, casually chatting, their voices light and easy.
As if he sensed my gaze, Cedric's eyes flicked toward me. And just like that, his whole demeanour shifted. His smile brightened as he pushed himself up from the ground, jogging toward us with an easy, effortless grace that made me wish for a moment I could be as carefree as him.
As he approached, Willow nudged me with her arm. "Am I hallucinating, or is that a Greek god running over here? Be cool, Bea, be cool." She fixes her hair.
"I'm not the one flapping right now," I chuckle at her.
"Bea!" he called, his voice full of warmth as he got closer. "Hey, I didn't expect to see you out here. How's your first day been so far?"
I couldn't help but smile back. "Surviving," I replied, trying to sound casual. "I'm still getting used to all of this."
Cedric grinned, coming to a stop in front of me. His friends were still watching from a distance, but he didn't seem to mind. It was almost like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Yeah, Hogwarts can be a lot to take in," he said, running a hand through his messy hair. "But you'll get the hang of it. If you ever need a tour guide, just let me know."
I chuckled. "I might just take you up on that offer."
Willow, who was standing slightly behind us, caught my eye with an exaggerated wink. I shot her a look, one that hopefully conveyed my please don't embarrass me right now message.
"You should," Willow chimed in, "Cedric's probably the best guide around. At least he knows where everything is, unlike some of us."
Cedric laughed, clearly unfazed by her teasing. "True, true," he agreed, giving her a playful shove as if they were best friends. "Though, it's really more about knowing who to ask when you get lost."
As the conversation shifted to more casual topics, like the upcoming Quidditch season and how much Cedric was looking forward to it, I couldn't help but feel a little lighter. I couldn't let myself get too carried away, though. I had come here for one reason and one reason only, and that was to see if anyone knew anything about what happened to my sister that day.
"Cedric, I'd really love to keep talking to you, but Willow and I have a pretty busy night planned," I say, making up some kind of reasonable excuse.
His smile didn't falter. "Oh, yeah, don't worry about it. I'll definitely catch you some other time."
I nod and smile, "Sure."
I brush past him, linking my arm with Willow's as we walk away, Willow in disbelief that I wouldn't want to stay occupied with Cedric.
"What is wrong with you?" She asks, playfully. "If I were you, I'd stay there all day!"
I simply laugh and continue walking with her. "As he said, he'll catch me another time."
-
That night, I thought I would have managed to get at least a wink of sleep, but I couldn't. I sat on the windowsill looking out at the forest that seemed to stretch for miles around the castle. I trace small shapes on the glass, the condensation allowing for the marks to stay for a moment or two before clouding up again.
I held my cat closer to my chest, petting his head softly for some form of comfort.
"What do you think, Winston?" I ask him, my voice no more than a whisper, careful not wake Pansy and Willow. "You think she's having fun up there?"
He lets out a soft meow as if he were responding to my question.
"Me too."
-
A/N: Hello angels! I hope you guys liked this chapter! I kow it's looking like more of a Cedric fanfic right now and there isn't much Draco action but I promise he will become way more important in the next few chapters. Stay safe my lovelies! MWAH
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Feysand, center of the universe, and their beautiful moments pitted against each other in this poll.. once again proving that acotar is nothing without them
“But then she snapped your neck.”
Tears rolled down his face.
“And I felt you die,” he whispered.
Tears were sliding down my own cheeks.
“And this beautiful, wonderful thing that had come into my life, this gift from the Cauldron … It was gone. In my desperation, I clung to that bond. Not the bargain—the bargain was nothing, the bargain was like a cobweb. But I grabbed that bond between us and I tugged, I willed you to hold on, to stay with me, because if we could get free … If we could get free, then all seven of us were there. We could bring you back. And I didn’t care if I had to slice into all of their minds to do it. I’d make them save you.” His hands were shaking. “You’d freed us with your last breath, and my power—I wrapped my power around the bond. The mating bond. I could feel you flickering there, holding on.”
Home. Home had been at the end of the bond, I’d told the Bone Carver. Not Tamlin, not the Spring Court, but … Rhysand.
vs
“And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you. I want you to know … ” His lips trembled, and I brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. “I want you to know,” I whispered, “that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honored—honored to be your mate.”
His arms wrapped around me and he pressed his forehead to my shoulder, his body shaking. I stroked a hand through his silken hair.
“I love you,” I said again. I hadn’t dared say the words in my head. “And I’d endure every second of it over again so I could find you. And if war comes, we’ll face it. Together. I won’t let them take me from you. And I won’t let them take you from me, either.”
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