Nova

HARRY POTTER

CRIMINAL MINDS

MARVEL

Hushed conversations surrounded you as you walked through the ground floor of the company building. You knew, realistically, none of the conversation was about you. No one outside the immediate board knew about what was happening with the company management, but regardless, it was hard not to feel like all the eyes were tracking you as you walked through the building. It wasn’t a feeling you were unfamiliar with, being who you were, curious eyes were commonplace for you. But now it felt different, you weren’t just aware of the stares, you cared about them. The feeling was unfamiliar, and you wholeheartedly hated it.

Your shoulders finally relaxed when you walked into your office, the door closing softly behind you. The room was a nice, typical corner office, with tall windows looking out into the busy city below. You’d stuck to fairly minimalistic and bland furnishing, with only a vase of flowers as a pop of colour. It wasn’t your first choice, but the last thing you needed was for everyone to think you were Simon Abernathy’s ditzy daughter, so you’d sacrificed the gorgeous olive plaid throw blanket for a bleak beige piece. Humming softly under your breath, you settled down at your desk and flicked through some of the accounts from last week. Simply put, your dad had his fingers in a lot of pies, most notably in finance and mechanics. A strange combination if you thought about it, but it meant you could always go shopping, so you were hardly complaining. 

Everything said, you really enjoyed working at the company, you were more involved than a lot of the associates, so you got to see firsthand how the many branches of Abernathy Industries functioned. It hadn’t taken you long to realise most of the profits came from, and after a quick look through some accounts, you’d realised how a lot of that money was distributed. You hadn’t realised it was possible to have more respect for your father than you already did. See, a lot of the financial clients the company worked with were very well-off individuals, and it was the finance division's job to make sure they got richer. Unfortunate – maybe – but the company got paid very well to do its job, and that was important for the other thing your father was doing. One of the smaller sectors your father was involved in was medicine and healthcare, more specifically, affordable healthcare. See, a lot of the profits from the finance branch went to supporting and developing the medical one, and it was profitable enough that there were no calls to close the sector. You’d put in a lot of your own time to make sure this sector was not only financed but also run well because you knew some of the people who ran this company, and not many of them would care if this branch got shut down so as long as you were in the green, they had no basis to close the hospitals.

Just as you were opening another folder, Elliot, your assistant, walked in, clipboard in hand, as his polished black Loake loafers – a gift you’d gotten him for his birthday – tapped across the floors. “You have a meeting in twenty,” he spoke without looking up from his notes, “and here’s some food, I highly doubt you ate this morning.” Elliot handed you a brown paper bag, which you opened to find a still-warm croissant. You grinned and took a generous bite, choking out a muffled thank you as you chewed. Elliot grimaced and waved you off, settling on the couch. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s unbecoming.” You pouted, settling on the couch next to him and grabbing the clipboard he handed you. “Your dad called ahead,” Elliot gave you a hard side-eye, silently says, ‘because you never fill me in’ “I did my best to compile some talking points for the board, but no promises that this is going to help.” You nodded, finishing the croissant and setting the paper bag aside. The list was quite succinct; it outlined your experience with the company, the direction you wanted to take it, the benefits of ‘keeping it in the family’, so on and so forth. You grimaced, handing the list back.

“This is so stupid, I shouldn’t have to pitch myself for my dad’s fucking company,” Elliot rolled his eyes, taking the clipboard back.

“Careful, your privilege is showing,” Elliot stood up, nodding towards the door, “but I agree– only because it’s you,” he quickly filled in, opening the door to let you through first, “I highly doubt they can find anyone more competent on such short notice.” You chuckled, casting him a sideways glance.

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

The door to the meeting room was open, so you and Elliot slipped in, nodding to the few directors already there. You took a seat at the table, just off the head, and Elliot pulled up a chair just behind you, his pen already scratching at his notes. You could feel the slow prick of nerves creep up your neck. The feeling was new but not entirely unfamiliar; you hadn’t felt nerves quite like this since you started showing up at the company. That insatiable desire to prove you belonged, tainted by the knowledge that you and your actions were always being watched – always being judged. The sensation crawled down your back and along your arms; you could feel it beginning to pierce your chest. You knew it was only a few minutes before your breath began to stutter, and sweat broke out along your brow. You sat up straighter, nails biting into the palm of your hands as you pulled the feeling in, tucking it somewhere in your chest but not letting it pierce, not letting it expand, holding it still until it settled into a dull throb that you could push aside. You were back, you were present, you had a job to do, and you would do it.

The last board member walked into the meeting room, a man following close behind, who closed the door before sitting down at the table. The man, Alex, if you remembered correctly, was familiar; you’d seen him around at a few company events, but you couldn’t quite remember what he did. Alex leaned in and mumbled something to the director beside him, Henry Miller, both of their eye briefly flicking up to you. Upon realising you were already looking in their direction, Henry had the sense to offer you a smile and a nod, but Alex looked away, his eyes landing on some spot on the wall. He seemed guilty… and then all at once it dawned on you. This was about to go horribly wrong. Henry started the meeting, standing up to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you, everyone, for coming here today. I will be keeping today’s meeting brief; this is just an opportunity for everyone to be well informed on how we plan to proceed.” You felt a few eyes flicker to you, but you ignored them, instead focusing on Henry as he sat back down. “As we all know, Mr Abernathy is stepping down from his position, and so it is our job to find the best possible person to fill his shoes.” You wanted to speak, but you held your tongue. Talking now would make you seem desperate, weak. You couldn’t afford to look inexperienced. “Simon has put forth someone we all know, his daughter,” Henry gestured towards you, one hand silently raising in your direction like a spear. “That being said, I think it's best not to jump into anything, so I would also like us to consider the experience of another candidate, Alex Taylor.” You didn’t like the way he said experience. Like you hadn’t been working at this company for the better part of your life. But you couldn’t say that, you needed people to like you right now, so you smiled and nodded instead. Behind you, Elliot’s notes stuttered.

“We’re happy to have you here Alex. I believe we’ve met before at a few galas,” you didn’t wait for him to respond, this was a meeting you didn’t need to make small talk. Instead, you focused your attention back on Henry. “Mr Miller, I would love to hear why you chose Alex, I’m sure he’s exceptionally qualified.” There was some bite in your words, and you were sure everyone had noticed it, but given that some people seemed to be hiding smiles, you weren’t too concerned about your image. Henry grinned, and you walked to pull your hair out. It was one of those smiles that made you want to rip your skin off and claw out eyes like a rabid animal. The smile was supposed to make you look weak, and you hated every part of it.

“Now, now, we’ll get to that in due time Ms Abernathy, no need to rush,” his tone reeked of condescension. “This meeting is just to get everyone, including Alex, up to speed.”

“Of course,” false honey and glass seeped out of your voice. This was going to be a long day.

“Beth, please tell me you’re joking.” After everything with Alex, all you’d wanted to do was come home, lie in your bed and try not to scream at the world, yet here was your best friend, whom you loved to bits, asking for a favour you really wanted to say no to.

“I know, I know, it’s not ideal, but it's just for a couple of days.” You groaned, running a hand down your face. “Please, otherwise he has to get a hotel…”

“He’s not some abandoned puppy. I’m sure he’s more than capable of surviving in a hotel.” 

“Well, yes, but it’s inconvenient for my practice.” Beth shuffled closer to you, and you looked up to meet her gaze, still clearly reluctant. This wasn’t a week for any distractions or issues, and that was the very definition of Benny Watts. Of course, Beth didn’t know what was going on with the company, so you could hardly blame her for this request, but that didn’t make you any more receptive to the idea. “You won’t even notice he’s here, I promise.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d notice the emo cowboy sleeping on my couch.” Beth winced, and you sighed. Other than the fact that he was obnoxious and annoying, Benny technically didn't bother you much. You were sure, given he would be busy with Beth and you would be busy with work, that you'd barely see each other. You could already feel yourself giving in as you thought through how you could make this arrangement work. “Fine, whatever, he can stay.” Beth immediately lit up, giving you a short hug before shuffling into the kitchen.

“I’ll make dinner tonight because you look like you got run over by a truck,” she threw a look at you from over her shoulder, “we’ll talk about whatever happened after dinner.” You chuckled. Of course, she’d already realised something had happened; you really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“So let me get this straight,” Beth grumbled through a mouthful of pasta, “you’re perfectly qualified, have arguably more experience with the company and are generally well-liked, yet they’re making you compete with someone, why, because you’re a woman?” You shrug, halfheartedly pushing the pasta around on your plate

“I mean, they’d never say that, but yeah, basically,” you huff, shoulder slumping back into your chair, “and I can’t even do anything about it because it all comes down to the board anyways.” You finished off your wine and poured yourself another glass. “It’s stupid, really. I shouldn’t have to play dancing monkey just so they can feel like they have power, but it's really to be expected from the same people who have smoking nights just to puff out their chests and throw money around.” You sigh, resting your cheek in your palm and take a moment to glance at Benny, who was sitting mutely at the other end of the table. He’d been surprisingly quiet all through dinner. “You have anything to say, Cowboy?” You immediately knew it was time to stop drinking because under no circumstance would you have voluntarily asked this man to speak.

Benny took a moment, pursing his lips as though he was putting some actual thought into his response. Of course, that couldn’t really be the case, you were certain nothing actually happened between his ears.“I mean it’s not a great situation and,” he emphasised the word cutting you off when he noticed you opening your mouth to speak, “and it’s largely stacked against you, but I don’t think dwelling on it is doing you any good. You’d be much better off trying to figure out how you’ll work your way around it.”

“Well, obviously, I know that, I didn’t get this far by dwelling on everything,” you huffed, taking a well-measured sip of your topped-up wine glass. “Have any pointers on how to win the favour of old men?” Benny raised his eyebrows, a smirk creeping up his face, and your face immediately scrunched in disgust. “Ew, fuck off, Watts, that’s gross,” you grumbled, grabbing your now-empty plate and taking it to the adjoined kitchen area. “I can’t believe I’m letting you stay here,” you rolled your eyes, rinsing off the plate. From somewhere behind you, Benny chuckled. The soft but vaguely gravelly sound was followed by the scratch of moving chairs as both Beth and Benny walked towards you, plates in hand. Beth set her stuff beside you, next to the sink and mumbled something about checking the guest room before shuffling off. You nodded, not minding doing the cleaning, given she’d made food. You’d expected Benny to do the same, drop his plates and follow his friend, but he loitered much to your chagrin. You turned your head, a singular raised eyebrow thrown over your shoulder. Benny responded with an irritated eyeroll before sliding up next to you and rinsing the dirty dishes in the sink. You paused momentarily before trying to swat his hands away. “Leave them, I’ll have them done in a bit,” Benny ignored your words, continuing his ministrations.

“There’s no point arguing, it’s not like I’m going to listen to you.”

“Benny, give me the damn dishes. I may not be particularly pleased with it, but you’re still a guest and my mother didn’t raise a lazy host.” It wasn’t an unusual sentiment for you to care about how your guests were treated in your home. As a child, your mother had been big on hosting events, large and small, so she’d made sure you knew how to play perfect host when needed. Benny, on the other hand, seemed surprised by your words, with an initial scoff followed by an almost laugh when he realised you were serious.

“You’re not quite as stuck up as I thought you were,” he said, leaning back against the counter.

“Why? Because I do my own dishes.” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry, there’s more than enough stuck up to go around,” you finished by loading the dishes that Benny had rinsed into the dishwasher.

“Now that’s hardly being a good host.”

“Shut up, Watts, I decide when I want to be a host and when I want to be a pain.”

“Right of course, my apologies for assuming,” you rolled your eyes, fighting back against the tired grin tugging at your lips.

“Have you and Beth had any luck with practice?” You change the subject, nodding to the open chessboard on your tea table. Benny shook his head, settling on the armchair opposite the board.

“We’re getting started tonight, and don’t worry, we won’t wake you,” Benny picked up one of the wooden pieces, spinning it absentmindedly between his fingers as he spoke. His eyes looked past your shoulder. “I know the princess needs her beauty sleep.”

“Hilarious,” you pushed off the wall and headed towards your bedroom as Beth crossed the room and settled on the couch in front of the board. You nodded to your friend, your eyes already drooping slightly as you moved. “I’ll be getting my well-deserved rest now, don’t stay up too late, kids,” Beth chuckled, bidding you goodnight, and just before you closed your bedroom door, Benny did the same.

Gravel crunched under the heels of your once pristine Chanel heels. You could feel the gazes of strangers follow you as you moved through the busy city. Your heels might’ve been a bit scuffed, something you would fix soon, but the rest of you was as carefully crafted as the dessert box you had stuffed in your bag. A neatly ironed red dress fluttered around your body as you took a moment to let your own eyes wander around the city. Hidden by your new sunglasses, which were pressed up to the top of your nose, you made an effort to take note of every head that turned your way and every gaze that lingered too long. It had become a habit of sorts, conducting your own personal survey of who paid you mind and then tucking the information in the back of your head. It probably had something to do with your job, or maybe it was your upbringing, or even better, it could’ve been your father, but whatever it was, you knew for a fact that these little habits, these observations that you so naturally picked up, were what made you excellent. An involuntary smile graced your face as you thought about it. Sure, excellence seemed excessive, and a part of you wanted to believe that you didn’t deserve that description, but you knew to survive in your position, you had to have an overinflated and infallible ego, so with a gentle smile and nod to the doorman, you slipped into the foyer of your apartment building.

White stone and glistening marble decorated the foyer from floor to ceiling with delicate splashes of gold dotted in between the monochrome sight. Beautiful wasn’t quite the word you would use to describe it; white and gold had never been your style, it had always felt like an imitation of what man thought heaven would be – something pure and clean, decorated with the only thing they thought valuable. Regardless, the foyer and subsequently the rest of the building was nice, and it mirrored the image that you had to present to the world, so you stuck around. Walking into the elevator, you pressed the button for the fifth floor, one down from the penthouse at the top of the building. It had been maybe a year since you’d moved into this apartment, and you’d quickly decided it was your favourite, although that generally came with being an absurdly expensive, high-end building. You pulled your keys out with a gloved hand and unlocked the door to your apartment. You only had a couple of hours or so until you had to head out to meet with Beth; she’d picked a new bar that was around ten minutes away, so you had just about enough time to clean up your flat a bit and change before you needed to leave.

You and Beth had always been a bit of a peculiar friendship. The pair of you had met after her win at the Moscow Invitational; she’d been invited to a gala your father was throwing and, surprise surprise, the only two women who weren’t hanging off a man’s arm had gotten to chatting. People must’ve thought it was a one-time thing, just some women gabbing about nothing while bored, but you’d stayed in touch, and that raised a few eyebrows. To an extent, you understood them. Beth was brilliant, analytical, subtle in her thoughts and, in most things, quiet. You, on the other hand, were a loud-mouthed, rich daddy’s princess who played dress up wherever she went. Beth had always said that people saw what they wanted to see, and when they looked at the pair of you, they didn’t want to admit that the girl the newspapers praised for her intelligence and the girl the papers gossiped about for her spending habits enjoyed each other’s company. She had always been the sceptic between the two of you. You had a bit of a different theory, it was much simpler than what Beth thought, but you found that a little bit of simplicity wasn’t a bad thing.

Fluffing the last pillow on your couch, a sage green one that you’d had custom-made to match the exact hue of the wood trim on your couch. Yes, you were excessive, but you had the money to back it up, so who really cared. With a content huff, you flung open your unnecessarily extravagant wardrobe and began rooting through your dresses. You’d already decided on a black on black ensemble, but now you just had to decide on which one. The black knee-high boots you’d bought a couple of weeks ago sat on the floor beside your dresser and next to your favourite patterned black leather YSL clutch. You’d also decided on a clean pearl jewellery set that your father had bought you for one of your birthdays, or more specifically, he’d had sent to you as he missed your birthday. You pursed your lips as you laid out your three best options on your bed and squinted at them, hoping it would make your decision easier. 

It didn’t. 

Instead, you moved to sit at your vanity and started on your makeup. You kept everything neat and clean, no bright colours, no crazy mascara and no intense eyeshadow. You were going to meet what just might be your closest friend, and fortunately, that meant you didn’t have to try and impress or seduce anyone. You looked into the mirror and a gorgeous woman stared back at you, pearls, makeup and face all so put together and so perfect. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate it, that would’ve been insincere, everyone likes to look pretty, but you’d gotten so used to getting ready in a certain way, everything was practically a math equation, and it bored you. Having to be constantly aware of everyone else was tiresome. You looked back over to your bed and, giving yourself only a moment to decide, you opted for the third dress. It was a little trick you’d picked up working under your father, you give yourself a maximum of ten seconds and basically force your brain to stop thinking about anything else. As a woman with the precarious position that you had, you couldn’t risk being seen as indecisive, so you’d quickly trained yourself on making snap analytical decisions. Lucky for you, it also helped with your more superficial debacles. The dress was a short-ish, sleeveless black one made of a material that had the sheen of satin but none of the flimsiness. Its neckline was tasteful and slipped just low enough to show off some collarbone and your beautiful string of pearls. Paired with the matching pearl earrings, which were exaggerated by your updo, you looked good. With a soft smile, you slipped on your boots and picked up your clutch, stuffing a lipstick, lip gloss and a couple powders into it before moving back into the kitchen. You picked one of the chocolate macarons out of your dessert box and shoved it into your mouth, not quite the small, gentle bites you’d been taught to take, and left the apartment.

The bar, Crimson Palace, was quite clearly new with no stains in the carpet or wear on the leather couches; it was the kind of pristine that came with fresh materials and not expensive cleaning. There was a subtle difference between the two, and truthfully, it wasn’t enough to be concerned about, but you’d trained yourself to see these details, so now you saw them everywhere you went. The scent of whiskey lingered in the air, curling around the dissipating tendrils of smoke that were no doubt coming from the men in the corner booth. Fortunately, the place was new enough that the smells hadn’t yet sunk into the furniture and instead floated through the air, creating a certain rugged ambience. Muted red and yellow lighting beat down on you as you walked across the plush carpet floor, making your way to the back of the building where the main bar was situated.

You saw her bright, cropped, auburn hair before anything else. It had always been her identifying feature. Beth had always said yours was the click of your heels as you approached. Right now, you couldn’t hear your heels clicking on the carpet, but somehow Beth knew anyway. Spinning on her heel, she met your eyes, a familiar smile decorating her face. It was subtle, almost secretive, but it was genuine, and it felt like home. Wasn’t that strange? You’d known her for such a short time, yet she might’ve been your only true friend. Was that beautiful or pathetic?

You weren’t sure.

“Well, look who it is. What have I done to be in the presence of Beth Harmon tonight?” The grin on your face was natural as you threw your arms open and embraced your friend. Beth reciprocated equally as forceful. You’d think for someone so quiet all of the time, she’d be soft too, but Beth loved just as hard as anyone else, and you loved her all the more for it.

“You’re such a pain,” she smiled and pulled away from you, resting her hands on your shoulder before turning her attention to the bar. You mirrored her action, shifting on your heel, eyes flicking to the drink the bartender had just placed down. A daiquiri – your favourite. “Come on, we’re sitting over there.” Beth’s fingers circled your wrist and tugged you in the direction of the booths lining the right wall. Your eyes jumped from booth to booth, but all of them were filled. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you turned to Beth, but she had her eyes locked on one of the middle booths that was currently being taken up by some guy. He was decked out in a full black on black outfit highlighted by a ridiculous full-length leather coat, but that wasn’t the worst bit. The worst bit was the stupid-looking cowboy hat that he’d not only decided was a good choice to wear but he’d also decided was a great choice not to take off. Who was this douche?

Beth slid into the booth opposite the stranger, and you followed suit, moving to sit beside her. The cowboy finally looked up from his drink, a whiskey sour from the looks of it, and now, seeing him up close, you had an inkling that maybe you’d seen him before. His eyes were inquisitive as he looked at you before lighting up in that familiar way you’d seen so many times before. He knew who you were. Weirdly, though the man made no effort to open his mouth, so neither did you, instead you turned to Beth, waiting for an introduction.

“y/n this is Benny Watts and Benny this is-”

“You’re that rich girl.” Benny cut Beth off and turned his full attention to you. You grit your teeth. “What’s his name?” he clicked, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember your father’s name. “Simon Abernathy,” Benny smiled, eyes flicking back to you, waiting for a reaction – you gave none. “You’re his spoiled little princess, aren’t you?” So this was how he wanted to act. Wonderful. You’re eyes momentarily flicked to your friend beside you, but she made no move to shut him up, instead hiding a secretive smile behind her glass. You sighed, letting your shoulder relax with a quick shrug. It wasn't often that people were this direct with their disdain, or rather, judgment, but you couldn’t say you hated it. You had always liked a good fight. Your face relaxed into an expression of mild disinterest as you met Benny’s gaze head-on with a slight tilt of your head.

“Your name sounds familiar. Why is that?” You ignored all of his words and shifted the attention back to him as you took a short, calculated sip of your drink.

“Well, you’re not the only one that’s been in the papers.” Benny matched your pace, taking a sip of his own drink. “You’re looking at the three-time US chess champion.”

“Oh, I see.” You put your glass back on the table and gently ran your finger around the rim. “And would I be right in assuming that was before Beth showed up?” You raised your eyebrows in challenge at the mock cowboy in front of you. Benny rolled his eyes and sank back into the couch.

“Very funny.” You simply shrugged, motioning one of the bar staff over.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Maybe you can book a fashion deal with your… interesting style.” Beth coughed beside you, and you smirked as Benny's own smile fell, but you didn’t let yourself linger in victory for too long. Tuning your attention to the waiter, you took note of his name tag – Mark – and spoke. “Hi Mark.” Your smile shifted to a softer and kinder one. Something you’d used on men and bartenders so many times before. “Would you mind getting us all another round of drinks and one of your sampling platters.” You paused for a moment, turning back to Beth “Are we expecting more company?” Beth nodded, and for whatever reason, you didn’t hate that. “Actually, make that two platters Mark, and-” you reached into your purse, pulling out a tenner, “this is for you, just stick close okay.” You folded the note into the man’s palm with a smile, which he reciprocated before leaving you to your company. “Elizabeth,” you looked at your friend, “would you like to tell me who else is joining us?”

Cleo was a gorgeous woman whom you’d taken to almost immediately. She’d come in wearing a beautiful custom azure dress, which you’d complimented almost immediately, she’d reciprocated by noting your pearl jewellery set and then the pair of you had promptly made plans to go shopping some time in the near future. Arthur and Hilton were both chess nuts like Beth and Benny. Fortunately for you, they were much better company than Benny. You sat on one side of the booth between Beth and Cleo while the boys sat together opposite you. The sampling platters were almost entirely cleared, with only a few stray grapes on cubes of cheese left and while no glasses were piling up on the table, Mark was a wonderful and attentive waiter, you were more than aware that everyone was reaching drunk. Sometime during the night, Benny and Arthur had switched places so that Arthur could talk chess with Beth, leaving Benny sitting right across from you. You tried not to notice it but even if you refused to look at him you could feel his eyes linger on you between conversations. His stare wasn’t one you were used to, it wasn’t curious or uncomfortable but rather it was searching as if he was trying to reach deep inside you and find something that even you weren’t aware of.

Alcohol buzzed through your system and your head was beginning to feel light. Thankfully, you still had enough sense to gesture Mark over. Leaning awkwardly over the back of your booth, you slipped Mark a slip of paper with your driver’s number and told him to ring and ask him to bring the car around – enough to fit six people. Mark smiled in the polite way he’d been doing all night and headed off in what you assumed was the direction of the telephone. Beside you, Beth was all smiles and giggles as she talked to Arthur about what you picked up was some chess opening. You dropped your head to her shoulder and murmured just under her ears. “We can move this party to mine. I’ve got space for everyone to stay the night.” You worried she might not have picked up on what you said, but as she continued conversation with a very much drunk Arthur, Beth managed to acknowledge and accept your offer. It was a damn good thing you’d cleaned up before leaving the house.

“Stop staring at me.” You finally turned your attention to Benny, who was downing the rest of his drink.

“But you’re so interesting.” You followed suit, finishing your drink and smiling at Mark as he cleared the table of glasses.

“How so?” Genuine curiosity coloured your tone as you settled your full attention on the cowboy in front of you. Benny mirrored your attitude, an almost imperceptible smirk lifting at the corner of his lips.

“Well, for starters, I can’t for the life of me figure out how you and Beth are friends.” Your smile faltered at Benny’s words but only for a moment before you steadied your cool facade.

“Is it really that surprising that two well-known women would end up friends?” Benny shrugged, drumming his fingers on the wooden table.

“Maybe a couple of years ago, but now. You’re both so different.”

“You don’t know anything about me Watts.”

“Maybe, but I know people like you and well, you’re not exactly the best crowd.” You grit your teeth and pinched the skin on your hand under the table. You hated people like him, people who thought they knew you just because they’d read the paper. Where do they get the audacity to believe they had all the insight into the life of a stranger? You hated it, but you tolerated it because that was your job. You forced a smile onto your face before you responded to Benny. It was cruel and insincere, and you hoped Benny could feel your distaste for his very presence from across the table.

“If that’s what you want to believe then be my fucking guest.” It was at that exact moment that Mark showed up and thank god that he did because you were about to crawl across the table and claw Benny’s smug, beady fucking eyes out.

“You’re car’s here ma’am.” You smiled softly at Mark as you ushered Cleo to stand up. A collective groan rang out across the more inebriated members of the group and you sighed, trying to rub your growing headache out of you through your eyes. “I’ve got more booze at my place.” That perked everyone up as they began to shuffle slightly faster out of the booth. “The car’s out front, I’ll settle everything here and meet you outside.” You got a round of thanks and the group slowly trudged their way out of the bar, some arms slung around each other as they went. They looked happy – it was nice. You turned back to Mark and fished through your purse for the money to cover the tab. “This should cover everything.” You dropped a few notes in Mark’s hand. “And this is for you.” You folded another tenner into the pocket on Mark’s vest, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You work here often?” Mark followed beside you as you made your way to the door.

“Yep, I’m here almost every night.”

“Good, I might visit again.” Mark grinned, a brighter smile than the polite service one he’d been using all night and you offered a genuine smile back before leaving the bar.

Your eyes tracked over the cars parked along the curb before landing on Vince, your personal driver, standing near a black Aston Martin which looked far too small for six passengers. You strode towards him, lips slightly downturned and opened your mouth to ask but Vince cut you off, eyes wide and fingers interlocked in front of him. “I’m so sorry Miss, the van was being serviced tonight and I couldn’t get a bigger ride.” You sighed, looking into the car and noting that Beth had taken the front passenger seat while the other four sat in the back, Cleo sitting comfortably on Hilton’s lap. “The others have said they’re happy to adjust, but I’m more than happy to do two trips if you’d prefer.” Vince continued, but you’d already made up your mind.

“It’s fine Vince. It’s just a short trip anyway. Thank you for coming out so late.” You smiled at the older man who smiled back and led you to the other side of the car. Vince opened up the door and you looked down into the car, expecting to see Arthur sitting there. 

Benny was a genuine fucking bitch.

You could tell immediately that the asshole was holding back a grin as he stared up at your less than pleased face. “Come on, it’s getting cold, I want to close the door.” Surely no one would mind if you killed him. Your eyes flickered to everyone else in the car who was yet to notice your reluctance, but it was only a matter of time until they did, and you weren’t in the mood to settle a bunch of cold drunks. Gritting your teeth, you ducked your head and moved into the car, hesitating for a moment before ultimately settling down in Benny’s lap. Benny moved his hands to your hips, and you froze for a moment before realising they weren’t wandering or even curious, he was just keeping you steady. You let your shoulders relax. “How long until we get to my flat Vince?” the older man buckled into the driver's seat and looked at you through the rearview mirror as he spoke.

“Just ten minutes Miss.” You nodded at him before beginning to drill holes into the headrest in front of you.

The car began to move and your body stiffened. Your back was pin-straight, and you made every effort to make sure as few parts of your body touched Benny, but he didn’t seem to agree with your avoidance. “Relax princess, you may not like me but you don’t have to punish yourself for it.” You opened your mouth to call him out but no sound came out as one of Benny’s hands wrapped around your shoulder and tugged you back, while the other hand on your hip tightened to keep you steady. Benny straightened his back and brought his lips to your ear, so close that you could smell booze on him as he spoke. “We only just met, and you’re already gritting your teeth at the thought of me. Surely that’s a record.” You knew he couldn’t see you but you rolled your eyes anyway, praying that this ride would finish sooner.

“I swear to god Watts, if you don’t shut up I’m going to strangle you.”

“That would involve touching me princess and you seem to be desperately avoiding that.” Benny let his head drop back against the headrest so that he wasn’t crowding against your neck but he maintained that one hand, gently resting on your hip. You probably could’ve pushed it off, but you didn’t — it wasn’t worth it.

The rest of the ride to your apartment was fine and the group had sobered a little, making them all the more restless to get to your apartment so they could drink again. You grabbed your keys from your purse and opened the door as everyone waited behind you. You didn’t miss the way their eyes had raked over the apartment lobby or how Hilton had traced his fingertips over the gold detailing between the walls. Maybe it was a bad idea bringing them all back here. You were starting to enjoy their company and things like this might ruin it. Sure, you were never subtle about your wealth; hell, you probably couldn’t even if you wanted to – it was plastered all over the papers – but you were aware that hearing it and seeing it were very different things. Wealth was much more jarring when you could see all the things it could give you. Regardless of your concerns, no one said a word as they piled into your living room. Cleo had already wandered into your kitchen to pull out a wine bottle, a very nice Bordeaux that you never found time to open. You helped her grab some glasses as she began to pour. Behind you, in the lounge room, Beth rooted through one of your cabinets, pulling out a carved wooden chessboard. She turned to the guys as you handed the filled glasses to everyone and slouched down into the couch. “Shall we have some fun?” Her voice was bright and tinted with booze, but she was met with happy agreements across the board. Beside you, Cleo topped up your glass, bringing the ruby liquid up to the rim, following suit with her own glass. “We’re going to need this if we want to get through tonight.” You chuckled and took a healthy sip.

Soft starlight steamed through your window as you closed the curtains in your living room. You looked over your shoulder and noted the guys’ sleeping arrangements. Arthur was strewn across your bigger couch, pillow tucked under his head and looking very comfortable as he snored. The other two, Hilton and Benny, were both sprawled across a mattress that you had tucked away in your guest bedroom. Both Beth and Cleo were sleeping in said guest bedroom, leaving you with an entire bed and bedroom to yourself. Your eyes drooped as you moved across the lounge room to your bedroom but you were stopped in your tracks as a mild ringing drifted out from the study. You looked at the clock that hung up on the wall, a gorgeous, ornate one that had been a gift from one of the investors at your father’s company, and noted it was very, very late. With a resigned huff, you slipped into the study and wrenched the phone to your ear. “Hello,” your words ground like gravel out of your throat and you made a mental note to drink some water before bed. “Who is this?” Your voice lifted at the end in question, the all to familiar pleasant voice you’d used on phone calls since you were a child.

“y/n my dear, how are you?” You rubbed at your eyes, trying to keep them open as you straightened yourself.

“Dad? Why are you calling so late?” You could feel your father’s smile through the phone line, even before he began to speak.

“Right, right, let me get to the point.” You leaned your head back and let your eyes flutter closed as you waited for him to continue. “So I have some news,” he paused, and you almost groaned into the speaker, but somehow managed to stop yourself. “I’m planning on stepping down as CEO.” This immediately got your attention. Your eyes widened, and your body stiffened as you quickly began your questions.

“Wait dad what do you me-”

“I’m stepping down and I’m recommending you to the board as my replacement.”

“Slow down. Why are you doing this?” You spoke fast, but your tone was steady, fingers drumming along the varnished wood surface of your desk.

“Oh don’t sound so glum. It was bound to happen soon enough and I want you to be the one to take over. The company is your right as far as I’m concerned.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, as much as my word matters, this is also largely up to the board, so you’ll still need to convince them.” You nodded along. What he was saying made sense. The company had a lot of investors and shareholders involved, so it only made sense for them to be involved in the process. “Regardless of what happens I want you to know you have my support, and I will be making that very clear to everyone during this process.”

“Thank you dad.” It was all you could bring yourself to say. Between your shock, fatigue, and overall inability to process what was going on, you genuinely had no other words to say.

“There’s nothing to thank me for. Now go get some sleep.”

The smooth timbre of Adele fills the kitchen as you slowly waltz around the kitchen, humming along. You pour yourself a glass of wine, a cheap Moscato that you always had stocked in the fridge, but it made you feel a little fancy. Like you weren’t always dead tired from the hospital and from worrying about a certain blind devil. You forced your shoulders to relax as you scanned your reflection in the blank TV screen. The smile came unconsciously but it was real. You looked good, hell, you felt good for the first time in a few weeks. It was almost a shock how nice you looked, some part of you had forgotten what it felt like to be put together. It felt nice to get all dresssed up even if you had less than high hopes for this night. You’d matched with the guy on Tinder just before you could delete the app and in a spur of alcohol fuel desperation you’d started up a conversation. His name was Ethan or Eli or something, your typical low-commitment fuckboy but you’d somehow convinced yourself it was a good idea and right now as you sighed into your almost empty wine glass you were trying keep up that false enthusiasm. Unfortunately, there weren’t actually that many fish in the sea. 

Dropping your glass in the sink, you took a quick look at your phone, noting the time and made your way over to your bedroom. Good you still had some time before you had to leave. Another unconscious sigh slipped from your lips. They were starting to become a reflex to the thought of your date – you really had to fix that before you met the guy. You stood in front of your floor-length mirror, eyes trailing down your body, a small smirk gracing your lips as you appreciated the effort you’d put in. You’d opted for a nice red halter dress that hugged your curves as it ran down your body, ending in soft waves above your knees. The dress was backless, so you’d have to grab a jacket on your way out, but it had just enough push in the front to show off a nice amount of cleavage. It was cute but flirty, as your friend had described when you’d bought it. Perfect for a first and only date where you were hoping to get laid. You also hoped the matching lacy red lingerie would help in that department. Your hair flowed down your shoulders in soft waves, which you had somehow managed after yelling at your hair in the mirror. You’d realised your hair had grown when you were curling it. It had been so long since you’d paid yourself any attention that you hadn’t even realised that your bangs were overgrown and your hair was past the medium length you always kept it at. Your entire look was tied together with a pair of gold hoops, a matching gold necklace and a pair of black heels that you’d bought last week, which still really needed some time to break in. As your eyes met with your gaze in the mirror, you noticed that your smile was working in full force, and you almost felt giddy. It was silly, you knew that, but it had been so long since you’d done something like this or even attempted to be with someone in this way. It just felt nice to be wanted. You rolled your eyes at your own thoughts before moving back into the living room, eye flicking to the clock mounted on the wall and realising very little time had passed.

Slouching down into the couch, you picked up your phone and unconsciously opened your messages app. The first message you saw was the one you’d sent to Matt last night. I’m not going to be home tomorrow, got plans. Don’t get injured. You hadn’t known Matt for long, but the short time you have known him has definitely been eventful. Your first encounter had been when he’d smashed through your window, bloodied and bruised in his Daredevil costume. Your body had moved in autopilot, not bothering to process what the fuck was going on and instead jumping straight into helping the strange man bleeding onto your favourite rug. After that, his visits became more frequent. Matt was sheepish at first, and rightfully so, after all, he was just waltzing into your home every other night, and you were left with no other choice but to patch him up. You never complained, though. he was hardly bad company, and you quite liked having someone interesting around. And as all men do, Matt got comfortable coming and going whenever he liked, never really caring if you were asleep or away, sometimes you woke up to find your medical cabinet had been ransacked, a little chocolate left as a token of appreciation. You chuckled, thinking about it. The rational part of your brain knew that you should be pissed or at least annoyed that this guy was just coming and going however he pleased, but you knew him now – or at least you thought you did. Matt had told you bits and pieces of his childhood, in between you cleaning the blood off him and stitching him back up. He’d told you about Stick and Sister Maggie and his father, and you’d listened. In return, you’d offered some insight into your own upbringing, it was hardly as gruesome, more along the lines of strict parents and panic attacks, but Matt had listened nonetheless. You liked having him around, so you ignored the fact that he only dropped by when he was injured.

Your gaze flickered to the little clock in the corner of your phone as it ticked over to 7. Time to go.  Humming, you pushed your body off the couch, smoothing down the invisible creases in your dress as you stood. A sudden thrill ran down your spine as you picked up your small purse and sauntered towards the door. You had very low expectations for this date, but you couldn’t deny you were excited regardless. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and an unconscious smile tugged at your lips at the thought of finally having some time for yourself. Then, a crashing sound filled your living room as your main window that looked out onto the busy city roads shattered. You flinched, curling inwardly, as glass scattered and sprayed all over the floor, your heart stuttering in your chest at the sudden noise, but then you saw the bleeding body curled up on your floor, decked out head to toe in crimson red, and your heart calmed. 

“What the fuck, Matt, can’t you use the door like a normal person?” You tentatively knelt down beside Matt, cautious of the stray glass pieces scattered around. Matt groaned, shifting slightly on the floor, and you sighed as you saw his blood staining your new rug. “Absolutely insufferable. Who’s going to clean all this up, huh?” You gently turned him over, being careful not to agitate any of his injuries. Your hands moved comfortably across his body, familiar with the way he felt under your fingertips. This wasn’t new to you; he’d stumbled into your home hundreds of times before, battered, bruised and bloody, and you would fix him up so he could be off at the crack of daylight in the morning. You grunted as you set his body upright against the base of the couch, crimson stain decorating your fingers. “And now I have to fix this stupid window too,” Matt groaned, his forehead creasing as you continued to complain. “You’re a real pain in my ass, Matthew Murdock.”

“I’m so sorry to curse you with my presence.” his words were strained and gravelly as they fought their way out of his mouth, and you winced at the sound.

“Just stay here. I’m going to grab the first aid kit and some water,” Matt grunted in response, eyes screwed shut as you hurried away. Shattered glass crunched under your new black heels as you moved across the room. The muted buzz of your phone sounded across your kitchen, but you ignored it, sighing as you filled up a glass, grabbed the first aid kit and made your way back to Matt. You brushed some stray glass away and haphazardly kneeled back down in front of Matt, eyes scanning over his injured body.

Comfortable silence stretched between you as you took his face in your hands and carefully cleaned up the dried blood.

“How much of this is yours?” you murmured, eyes focused on the movement of your fingers. Matt’s voice was equally quiet, his eyes flickering open to look at you.

“Not much, don’t worry sweetheart,” his lips curled into a pained smirk, and you rolled your eyes, less than pleased with his joking attitude.

“You’re going to get yourself killed, Murdock.” Matt dropped his head backwards with a pained groan, ignoring your words. You bite down on your tongue, choosing not to pick a fight in this moment. Instead, you reach for the glass of water and bring it to his lips, cautious not to spill anything on him. Matt parted his lips, letting the water spill into his mouth, and you tried desperately to ignore how… appealing he looked. You braced your hand on his jaw, steadying his head as he desperately drank down every last drop from the glass. Matt sighed, sitting up slightly straighter, and you sat back on your haunches, watching as he moved into a more comfortable position. You scanned down his body, eyes focusing on the vermilion that dampened his already red suit. Tugging at the familiar clasp on the edge of his suit, you managed to loosen the top half of his outfit, peeling it off his body.

Red stained his torso, with small cuts and bruises littering every inch of available skin, but your eyes immediately fell to the long gash that ran up his side, which Matt was gently applying pressure to stem the blood flow.

“I’ll need to stitch that up,” you murmured under your breath as you grabbed a sterile needle and suturing thread. “Don’t move.” Your eyes briefly flickered up to meet Matt’s pale milky ones; they were searching like he was trying to decipher something, but you didn’t linger too long, going back to the task at hand. Steady hands stitched his skin back together; you’d done this hundreds of times before, whether that be at the hospital or on this very man in front of you. Ignoring his pained grunts, you finished up your work, tying off the thread and tightly bandaging over the wound to keep it stable. “Try not to rip your stitches,” – Matt didn’t respond, his eyes were half-lidded as your hands fanned over his chest, and you ran them over the familiar planes of his body.

“Buy a guy dinner first,” Matt choked out a laugh, and you rolled your eyes for the nth time tonight.

“I’m checking for broken bones, asshole,” you grit out as you lift your body up to check along his shoulders. Matt brought his own hands to your hips to keep you steady as you continued your checks, and you tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his actions. Matt’s eyebrows furrowed, and his hands trailed upwards, running along the sides of your body, over the soft material of your dress. Shit, you really need to text Eli or whatever back.

“What are you wearing?” Matt’s voice was something between curious and confused, but you focused on how the gravel in his voice had gone down, happy that the water had done its job.

“A dress,” his hands wandered downwards, toying with the fabric at the hem of your dress and hovering dangerously close to your bare thighs. You scoffed and swatted his hands away before moving back fractionally to put some distance between the two of you as you reached for some stuff to clean the blood off his body. “What are you doing Matt?” you raised an eyebrow as you got to work on cleaning the dried blood off his chest and arms.

“I just wanted to see what kind of dress you were wearing,” you chuckled at his answer, hands gently moving the warm cloth over the planes of his muscles.

“I know damn well you can do that without touching me,”

“This is easier,” he hummed, leaning back to let you easily reach all the way up to his neck. You leaned forward to run the cloth along his shoulders, and Matt’s hands found their way back to your hips, his thumbs rubbing soft circles over your dress. “You’re wearing perfume too.” He tugged you slightly closer and held you tight enough so you didn’t fall into him, “the expensive one that you barely use.” You shivered as he leaned forward, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent.

“I’m trying to get your bleeding ass off my floor, and you’re really not helping.” You pushed at his uninjured shoulder, but he still winced. Whoops. “Maybe if you have enough energy to be annoying, you should fix yourself up,” Matt laughed and let you grab the small plasters which you used on all the smaller cuts he had littering his skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please continue,” you muttered a sarcastic thanks before returning to your work. Unfortunately, Matt didn’t stay silent for long. “Why are you dressed up anyway?” You rolled your eyes and sat back for a moment, eyes scanning his now cleaned and bandaged chest.

“You should really check your messages,” you mumbled before standing up, eyes flickering down to the dark red stain on the side of your dress. Well, that was just wonderful, wasn’t it. 

“Shit, did I get something on your dress?” Matt grunted as he hoisted himself off the floor and onto the couch.

“It’s fine, Matt, I can clean it, that’s why I have a washing machine. Just stay still so I can fix your face and you can get out of here,”

“Why so you can get back to your plans,” he put a teasing emphasis on the word, eyebrows raised in feigned interest. 

“I don’t think I’m getting back to any plans,” you said sarcastically as you moved to stand between his legs. Gently, you brought your left hand to his jaw, tilting his head upwards so you could assess the cut on his lip. It didn’t look particularly serious, but it was still bleeding, so you began to clean it.

“Where were you supposed to go anyway, one of those med galas, I assume,”

“Nowhere important…” Your words trailed off as Matt raised a questioning eyebrow in your direction. You sighed and gave in “A date, I had a date planned.” That clearly wasn’t what he had expected. His eyebrows furrowed as he slowly processed what you had said, then his eyes scanned your entire body, head to toe, as he continued to process. He had this weird way of making you feel like his eyes were boring into you, even though he was very much blind. “What? You’re acting like I’ve never gone on a date before.” Your words were harsher than you’d intended, and you quickly plastered up the cut on his face before walking away.   

Your purse was still sitting on the kitchen bench, where you’d left it when Matt came barreling through your window. You fished out your phone, opening up the dating app where Eric had been blowing up your phone. He was less than happy – understandable – but he had also decided it was appropriate to call you a bitch more than once, so maybe it was a good thing you’d missed the date. You typed out a curt, half-hearted apology and closed the app. Matt followed behind you, hobbling into the kitchen and grabbing on tightly to the bench to keep himself upright.

“Go sit down, Matt, you’re going to rip your stitches.”

“Is that him?” he ignored you, reaching out for your phone instead “What’s he saying?” You held your phone tightly in your hand, eyebrows raised at Matt’s as he inched into your space.

“You quite literally can’t read my messages, so I don’t know why you’re pawing at my phone,” but Matt didn’t let up, drawing you close by the waist as he continued to reach for your phone, which you were failing to keep out of his reach. You ignored the way your heart fluttered and cheeks heated up as he moved into your space, instead pushing your focus to twisting out of Matt’s grasp without injuring the man more. Matt backed you up against the countertop, a grin plastered across his face as he reached his arm over your head. You laughed, eyes bright, as you ducked under his arm and moved into the living room, phone still clutched tightly in your hand. Your smile faltered ever so slightly as you took in the damage done to your living room. Obviously, there was the shattered window, which you’d have to call someone to fix, but now you also had the bloodied couch and rug to deal with. The couch was one of those faux leather ones, so the blood should hopefully come right off, but the rug wasn’t going to be so lucky. When you had bought it, it was a nice light grey colour with streaks of darker greys and browns going through it, but now the carpet had turned various shades of murky brown from all the blood. It looked like someone had died. Thankfully, you were too good at your job to let that happen.

“Sorry about the rug,” you jumped as Matt sidled up behind you. You were certain that this man had been a cat in a former life, with the way he snuck around.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, leaning in every so slightly into the warmth radiating off Matt’s body. The action was supposed to be imperceptible, and to anyone else it would’ve been, but to Matt it was as clear as day.

“I’m sorry about your plans too,” he leaned into you, his breath just barely ghosting over your neck, “I’m serious.”

“It’s fine Matt, I don’t think the date was going to work out anyway,” you sighed, slouching into your armchair, the only piece of furniture in your living room not currently covered in blood. Matt settled down on the floor, sitting next to a patch of now drying blood, his milky white eyes bored into your own eyes as he leaned back on his arms with a wince.

“Why not?” You grimaced at his question and unlocked your phone before finally relinquishing it to him. He caught it – of course. “He seems like a bit of a douche, unfortunately,” Matt navigated to your text-to-speech feature, which you’d enabled pretty soon after meeting him, and listened as the robotic voice listed off the now longer list of unsavoury messages that Eric had sent you.

“Him seriously,” the voice continued to emanate swear words from your phone before Matt shut it off with a few swears of his own.

“Yeah, well I was bored.”

“Bored people read books; they don’t go on dates.”

“Fine, Matt, maybe I was kinda desperate,” this got a pause from Matt before a grin spread across his face and he began to laugh. The sound was warm and rich, and you almost hated the fact that it immediately brightened your spirits. The keyword being almost – truthfully you quite enjoyed it.

“You’re kidding.”

“Shut up asshole,” you actually pouted and sank down further into your chair, which just made Matt laugh more. “Look, there aren’t that many decent men around. This was the best I could do.”

“He hardly has to be a decent person, you only need him for a night.”

“You are such a pain in my ass, I hope you know that,” you squirm in your seat, feeling the blood on your dress beginning to stick to your thigh, “and plus, if I was going to sit through an entire dinner with him, it helps if he can keep conversation.”

“Right, because he’s so nice with his conversation,” Matt nodded to your face-down phone, which had finally stopped buzzing.

“Whatever Matt, forgive me if I wanted someone somewhat decent for my first date in months.” Your eyes flicked down to your phone before looking back at Matt, “Unfortunately, he turned out to be a douche.” Silence stretched between you, and you took the moment to properly take Matt in. He was seemingly comfortably stretched across your rug, legs out in front of him and arms holding his weight as he leaned back. But you noted the way he favoured his left arm to his right. He was still shirtless, a fact that you’d been adamantly ignoring. You’d done a pretty good job at cleaning the blood off his chest, so now you could clearly see all the smaller cuts you’d missed mixed in with the older scars from injuries you weren’t there for. The pants of his suit were still stained with blood, but his legs weren’t injured, so you knew it wasn’t his. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you were met with his staring straight back at you, a blank, almost observant look plastered across his face. “What?” Matt didn’t respond immediately, taking a moment to blink out of whatever thoughts he was having.

“You really haven’t been on a date in that long?” you groaned, moving to get off the couch, but Matt was faster, somehow shuffling forward across the carpet and holding you down with a hand on your thigh. “No, I’m serious.” You rolled your eyes but sat back down. His hand was barely holding you down, but you still stayed. You dropped your eyes to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of the blood on your thigh drying up uncomfortably.

“I mean, yeah but you make it sound a lot worse than it is.” Your eyes shifted, jumping from place to place in your living room and putting a whole lot of effort into avoiding Matt.

“I kinda assumed you were going out here and there, you know, in between our meetings,” Matt almost seemed sheepish as he spoke.

“I have no idea where you think I’d find the time.” Matt sighed, dropping his shoulders ever so slightly. The man was practically on his knees in front of you as he spoke, and it was becoming a bit too much for you to handle. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel your cheeks heating up, and the worst part of it all was that you knew Matt could tell.

“Let me make it up to you,” oh hell no. You stood up, not responding and walking across the room, back into the kitchen.

“Matt, don’t be dramatic, you don’t have to do that.” You plucked another wine glass from your cabinet and emptied the Moscato into it.

“No, you’re not listening to me.” You didn’t meet his gaze as you took a long sip from your glass. “Look at me.” Matt brought his fingers to your chin and gently tilted your head up to meet his eyes. 

“You don’t want to go out with me, Matt.” You took a step back, and Matt took a step forward, backing you up against the counter.

“Don’t be like that, you deserve better than a pity date that’ll end in mediocre sex, and I really fucking want to take you out.”

“This is a bad idea, Matt.”

“I can hear your heartbeat beat love…” Matt inched closer, a subtle smile on his face. He knew how this was affecting you, and for once, you didn’t mind. “I can tell when you’re lying.” You dropped your head to his chest, a smile finally gracing your face.

The scratch of quill on parchment filled your ears as you hurriedly scribbled down the list of homework McGonagall was rattling off. You sighed, finishing up your writing just as she wrapped up her list. You could tell your handwriting was barely legible, but you’d deal with that later. People were still in their seats as you hastily shovelled books into your bag.

You chanced a look up and across the room and winced. Hermione was somehow matching your pace but in a much neater manner, her books getting placed into her bag at a rapid efficiency. You needed to get out of here quickly.

McGonagall raised a single eyebrow as you turned on your heel and almost ran out of the classroom. You had the sense to throw a quick smile over your shoulder at your professor but you weren’t sure it came off particularly cheerful. Regardless, McGonagall made no effort to stop your hasty retreat, so you doubled your efforts, cloak flapping helplessly behind you as you whipped through the door and out of the room. Your grades had improved over the past few days, so she really had no reason to stop you, she clearly didn’t think anything was amiss. The thought almost made you laugh. Almost.

Your legs burned, your strides unusually long, as you tried to move as fast as possible without breaking into a full-on sprint. You could hear quick thumping footsteps growing nearer behind you and you pushed yourself to put more distance between you and the person following you. It was no use. Students poured out of their classrooms, filling the corridor and packing you in like a sardine. You did your best to squeeze between people, but all you got were nasty side eyes and no leeway. If anything, they moved closer together, packing tightly like a wall to keep you out. You were certain the entirety of Hogwarts was against you. The footsteps behind you got louder before they stilled. Your shoulders sagged in defeat, and somehow you managed to stop your body from tensing as fingers encircled your wrist. They were loose, reluctant almost, you probably could’ve broken free and made a run for it, but that would make you more of a coward than you’d already become, and that was a step too far.

“Can we talk?” Her words were nothing like her grip, they held some resolve, like she’d thought over and over what she would say to you. She probably had. You weren’t one to judge, you’d done the same thing. Your nod was nowhere near resolute, but Hermione took the silent movement of your head as enough agreement to drag you through the throng of people and into an empty classroom.

The musty scent of old books and damp mildew wafted through the air. You scrunched your nose at the widows, which were rusted shut and looked like they hadn’t been opened in years. The tops of the desks were coated in a thick layer of dust, which made you reluctant to lean on anything lest you fill the already dank room with dust. Silence stretched between the two of you as Hermione flicked off the dust clinging to her skirt. You didn’t speak, your face settled in a passive disinterest. “What is it, Granger?” You didn’t care for this conversation, and in all honesty, you weren’t exactly sure what she wanted to say. All you knew was that she wanted to speak to you, and you didn’t, so naturally you avoided her. Hermione’s eyes cautiously flicked up to yours and for a moment, you thought she might backtrack on this whole conversation, but you were pleasantly surprised when her shoulders settled firmly back as she straightened her body, determination and something akin to compassion in her eyes. Huh. You raised a single curious eyebrow, and Hermione started to speak.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t want to speak to me-”

“Glad you’re self aware,” Hermione didn’t bother to acknowledge your petty jab.

“But I have something to say, and I really think you need to hear it.” You blinked at her slowly, moments away from rolling your eyes as you waited for her to spit out whatever she wanted to say. This was beginning to feel like a waste of time.

“Granger, I really don’t care about your guilt sharing or whatever this is.” You gestured weakly to her general presence and made your move towards the door, but Hermione stepped in your way, hands frantically flying around like she was trying to find a way to hold you here without touching you.

“No, no, no, that’s not what this is. I mean yeah, I do feel kinda guilty, but that’s not why I’m here, and I know you don’t want to listen to me-” you sighed loudly, rocking back on your heel and dropping your head back to stare blankly up at the ceiling. Yeah maybe you were acting like a bitch but could anyone blame you. All you wanted to do was keep moving past whatever this shitty situation was, Draco hadn’t talked to you in days and you were desperately trying to ignore how all of your friends looked at you with pity in their eyes. All you wanted to do was push past it, but for some irritating reason, all everyone wanted to do was talk.

“Then what is it? Can you please spit it out.” Hermione had moved closer, standing only a few steps in front of you. You wanted to step back, but she didn’t, so neither did you.

“Okay, okay,” she took a quick breath like she was scared you would run off if she paused for too long. She had the right idea. “When Draco asked me out I didn’t turn him down just because of Ron,” you sucked in a quiet breath, a cruel feeling curled around your stomach when she said the words. You weren’t living in denial of the fact that Darco had chosen her – you refused to do that – but that didn’t mean you had to constantly remind yourself about what had happened. “Part of it was because of you…” You groaned, running your hand down your face. You were about to accio a gun so you could shoot yourself.

“So what, this is all my fault?” you raised your eyebrows, and Hermione faltered. Part of you knew you weren’t being helpful, you were being much harsher than you needed to be, but you truthfully couldn’t help it. There was so much of this pent-up resentment festering inside you, and it felt nice to let some of it out. Maybe you felt a bit bad that you were taking it out on Hermione, who was just trying to make amends, but you chose to ignore that small part of you.

“No, you know that’s not what I mean.” Hermione took another deep breath and looked past you, locking her gaze on the wall behind you. “When he first asked me, you know, with the flowers,” the flowers that you picked. Your lips pursed, but you pushed the thought away, ignoring the irritation that came with it. “Well, um, he told me that you were the one who picked them.” Your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as mild surprise coloured your face. Whatever Hermione saw on your face in that moment was enough encouragement to keep her going. “I mean, at first I just thought maybe he felt guilty showing them off as his own gift. I thought it was sweet, and it wasn’t a big deal.” Her words came out soft and fast, but you soaked up every word. “But then you came up again later, and he was telling me how you’d helped him with talking to me and how great of a friend you were and that I’d love you,”

“I swear to god, Granger, if this is because you had a problem with us being friends-”

“No, no, Merlin, no, it was nothing like that,” Hermione saw your shoulders tense and immediately backtracked on her words. “It had nothing to do with your friendship. Maybe at first I was a bit cautious, but I swear to you it wasn’t like that, I’m not like that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s the way he looked at you.” Her words teetered off, and the room grew silent as you processed her words.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” You were quiet, confusion clouding your face as you finally met Hermione’s gaze.

“He looks at you like I don't know-” she huffed, racking her head for the right words. “He looks at you like how I expected him to look at me, and the worst part is I don’t even think he realises,” you let the words sink in, but the expectant way Hermione was looking at you made you squirm. Like she was waiting for a lightbulb to go off or for you to break down. You did the only thing that came to mind. Changed the subject.

“Where does Ron fit into all of this?” Hermione paused for a moment, visibly shifting her train of thought, before she shrugged.

“Somewhere in the middle of all this, Ron told me how he felt, and I guess it just felt right,” you rolled your eyes, and Hermione cracked an almost imperceptible smile. “I know it sounds stupid, but it felt more natural than whatever was going on with Draco. I guess neither of us was being honest with ourselves.” You hummed, processing everything she had said. “You’re taking this a lot better than I had expected,” Hermione spoke, but her nerves were as clear as day as she fidgeted with the cuffs of her robe.

“How did he look at me?” The question slipped past your lips involuntarily, but Hermione answered before you could take it back.

“His eyes were soft. That was the difference.” You opened your mouth to ask her to elaborate, but Hermione cut you off. Her eyes were downcast as she spoke, thinking about something far away. “When I was with him, his eyes were bright, brighter than I’d seen since we were kids, but I realised he’s like that with most of his friends. But with you it was different. He was comfortable around you – vulnerable almost – when he looked at you, there were no expectations, he just looked at you like he was home.” You wanted to protest, wanted to yell, wanted to cry, but nothing came out. You just stood frozen. “I don’t know when he started looking at you like that, maybe it’s always been like that, and so you never noticed, but I knew it wasn’t something I could compete with, and honestly, I didn’t want to.”

“You say this now, but he definitely didn’t act like someone who was home when he spoke to me.”

“That might’ve been my fault, too.” Your eyes flicked up, but you were too tired to be angry. Hermione must’ve seen your lack of emotion, or else surely she would’ve sounded more wary as she continued, “I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear but I was trying to explain the stuff with you and I guess he interpreted it wrong or maybe I didn’t explain well enough but I think all he processed was your name. I’m truly sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” and you believed her, for what it was worth, she looked genuinely sorry for whatever mess she thought she’d created.

“He still acted like an ass,”

“Well, he is still a Malfoy,” that got a laugh out of you, maybe for the first time in a couple days, and Hermione smiled with you. The tension in the room dissipated, and your eyes met, both now softened in some tentative understanding.

“What do you think I should do?” Hermione clearly hadn’t expected the question, but she managed to muster up some semblance of an answer.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s up to you.” You acknowledged it was a bit of a basic answer. “But I know how much you value his friendship. I think it’s worth not forgetting that.” You hummed, mentally storing her words as you slowly moved towards the door, signalling this conversation was over.

“How’s it going with Weasly?” You didn’t turn to look at her, but you slowed your movements, hovering at the door as you waited for an answer.

“Great, yeah, it’s nice, I’m happy,” the last words were almost whispered, but you still picked them up, an unconscious smile creeping onto your face.

“That’s good,” those were the last words spoken into the dusty room before you turned the door handle and escaped back out into the corridor.

Dinner had ended over an hour ago, and yet here you were wandering around through the cold corridors of your obscenely old school. Your mind had been racing since this morning when Hermione had cornered you. You were glad you’d talked to her, but you were also glad you’d managed to avoid her for so long. You were almost certain that if you’d heard this news any earlier, you wouldn’t have taken it nearly as well. Now the question was whether or not you wanted to talk to Draco. You scoffed at yourself at the thought. That was a lie, you always wanted to talk to Draco, the question was how. It should’ve felt embarrassing how quickly you’d decided you needed to talk to Draco, but he was what felt familiar, and you were hardly going to argue with the one thing that you knew your mind found solace in.

The silence of the corridor was broken but a set of footsteps. Consistent light but decisive taps filled the air of the empty corridor, and you let your own pace slow, focusing on the location and direction of the sound. Truthfully, you weren’t quite sure how late it was, it had only been – as far as you were aware – half an hour since you’d last seen a clock, but you had no way of knowing, and you definitely didn’t want to get caught by Filch. He had always creeped you out. You slid your body into a little divet in the wall, cold stone pressing into your back and front as the sound of the footsteps grew and moved towards you. For a moment, you panicked. Had you already been spotted? Maybe this was just Flich crawling his way down the corridor to seal your fate, but when a familiar head of platinum raced past your little hiding spot, you stilled. What was Draco doing out here? Against your better judgment, you slipped out of the gap and moved behind him. You don’t know why you didn’t call out to him, and you also weren’t sure how he didn’t notice you, but the pair of you strode down the corridor, footsteps matching pace. Your steps faltered when Draco took a hard left and lurched into the boys' bathroom. Looking around, you realised you were in one of the more secluded tower floors that were very rarely monitored by Filch. Sharp, cold wind blew through the open window at your right, prickling goosebumps along your arms and down your back. You walked forward, stopping in front of the bathroom door, careful not to make a noise. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, and in a single impulsive moment, you pushed the door wide open.

You saw a flash of blonde as Draco’s head flicked around, and silver orbs met yours. Confusion and surprise filled his eyes before they settled into something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Hey,” you winced at the slight quiver in your voice, but it seemed to soften him enough. His shoulders slumped and he leaned back, letting his body rest against the bathroom sink. Draco’s eyes traced your face, and slowly, probably without him even noticing, a smile crept onto his face.

“It’s late, you should be sleeping.” You grinned, taking a few careful steps further into the bathroom and closer to him.

“I know, I’m just as surprised as you. I-”

“I’m sorry,” the mood instantly dropped and your smile fell. Your shoulders tensed, and you fidgeted with your fingers as your eyes flickered across the room. His words were firm, there was no hesitation, and he seemed genuinely regretful. Your eyes settled and locked with his. He looked like he was in pain. Maybe that was why you chose to step closer. “I shouldn’t have said all that shit, it was out of pocket and I was just angry and there was a lot of stuff going on and it had nothing to do with you.” You opened your mouth to speak, but Draco moved forward, immediately halting your train of thought. You hated how quickly your body responded to his movement, but you couldn’t deny how comfortable it felt to be near him. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, it was unfair and-” he paused, eyes flicking down to the ground. “-I’m sorry about throwing all the other stuff.. in your face.” His hand reached out to yours, and you unwillingly let your fingers intertwine. He didn’t pull, but your body moved closer anyway, leaving you toe to toe.

“Draco, it’s fine.” Your voice was soft and desperate. Draco’s head lifted, eyes locking with yours, and your breath hitched. You hated how much you wanted to fall into his body. “I spoke to Hermione. Well, technically, she grabbed and spoke at me, but she explained everything. I’m not mad anymore, but-” you took a deep breath, rocking back and forth on your heels as your gaze dropped to the floor. Draco’s hand dropped yours and moved to your chin, lifting your head up to meet his gaze. “-you hurt me,” your voice cracked, and tears pooled in your eyes. Draco moved quickly, pulling you into his chest, and you hated how easy it felt to be held like this. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, and Draco backed up, pulling you with him. The weight of his arms around your back felt nice, almost nice enough to forget the fact that you were sobbing into his chest. Draco repeated two words into your neck. Over and over, again until his breath on your ear felt like a part of your being. I’m sorry. It was exactly what you needed – everything you had wanted – but it was making you forgive him, making you forget everything he’d done. That wasn’t why you were here.

You took a step back, and Draco reluctantly let you go, drifting his eyes to the floor as you furiously wiped your tears away with the back of your sleeve. “How much did Hermione tell you?” you sighed.

“Everything.” The silence grew, and Draco cursed under his breath.

“I was waiting until you’d calmed down before I talked to you, but I think she’s right.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you took a step back as Draco straightened, moving towards you. “It's embarrassing that I didn’t see it, but she’s right, it’s you, it’s always been you, and I am so insanely blind to have not seen it.”

“Darco-” you tried to cut him off, this wasn’t right, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t what you wanted.

“-Wait, let me finish.” He grabbed your hands, bringing them up to his chest and pulling you slightly closer. “I miss you and I really want to do this and I want to do this right.” A familiar indignant feeling rose through your body, and you snatched your hands away, taking multiple rapid steps backwards and away from a now startled Draco.

“Do you hear yourself. Just a week ago, you were yelling at me because your little relationship with Hermione didn’t go right and what now you want to try something with me.” You sneered up at him and the fact that Draco seemed confused only pissed you off more. “I am your friend asshole, I came here to patch things up because I missed you and I knew you didn’t really mean what you said. I put up with your shit all the fucking time, hell I’ve been in love with you for years. Don’t you think those emotions deserve some sort of respect.” Your chest was heaving, and the tears in your eyes had cleared only to be replaced by fresh, angry ones. “You think just because I love you, I’ll be happy as someone's pathetic, sloppy seconds. Do I look like a fucking dog to you Malfoy.”

“Wait, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant, I just thought-”

“No, if that's what you think of me, then clearly we don’t know each other well enough. This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have come here.” You moved towards the door but Draco rushed behind you, grabbing your shoulders and forcefully turning you around.

“Stop, wait, please.” His voice broke, and your steps faltered. If you concentrated, you could hear a piece of your heart shattering. “I thought if we-”

“No Malfoy that’s the problem, you don’t think. You never have.” It tore at your chest, but you ripped your body away from his and backed into the bathroom door. “You don’t think about the future, you don’t think about everyone around you. You’re so used to other people cleaning up your messes, you never stop to consider what your words can do. I’m sick of it.” Draco had retreated, like he was trying to run away from the venom in your words. He stood at the other end of the bathroom, backed up against the sink. The gap that you had come to close had somehow grown into a chasm. “I shouldn’t have come here, this was stupid. I was stupid for thinking you cared.”

“No, I swear, I am sorry, this isn’t- I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Draco’s voice was desperate, but he had the sense not to move from his position across the room.

For whatever reason, Madame Melafawe had decided it was essential that the infirmary had a constant supply of muggle medication. It wasn’t like she could cure injuries with a wave of her wand, but who were you to judge? You rolled your eyes and groaned as you closed yet another fully stocked cupboard. Just one more to go. You moved groggily, grabbing the various bandages and unrecognisable salves from the open box by the floor. You’d been at this for around an hour and judging by the silence in the corridors it was around midnight. Why had no one told you being a Prefect could be so boring.

A sudden noise at the door had your body freezing in place. Reflexively your wand found its way to your hands as you crept towards the closed door. The noise disappeared for a moment, only to continue seconds later. It was somewhere between a knock and a scratch like someone was dragging their open palm across the door.

“It’s past curfew, you should be in your dorm,” you forced as much false courage into your voice as you could and it seemed to have worked. The noise stopped, silence filling the air, but you didn’t hear any shuffling on the other side of the door, no movement. Whoever or whatever was on the other side of the door hadn’t left. Wand grasped tightly in your right hand, you pressed your body against the door. You could hear breathing on the other side. Merlin help you with all the weird shit that goes down at this school today might be your last day on this Earth. You screwed your eyes shut hoping this didn’t go sideways before steeling your body and gritting your teeth. You were a Prefect godamnit, you weren’t going to die scared shitless.

You turned the handle and swung the door open to be met with a grunt and a thud as someone fell to the floor.

“Shit sorry!” you dropped to the floor and helped them up apologising profusely as you moved. The person grumbled but didn’t speak as they brushed you off and made their own way into the infirmary. “I’ll go get Madame Melafawe, she can help you out,” the person groaned again but this time it was in irritation.

“What I would like you to do is sit your ass down Prefect and let me handle this,” your tensed as your brain registered the person’s voice. You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the low light, but when that didn’t work you cast a quick charm, lighting up all the lamps in the room. A less than pleased face turned to look at you.

“Oh, it’s you…” Your voice was flat as you scanned Regulus' head to toe, more so trying to figure out what he was doing out here than take stock of his injuries. Regulus pursed his lips in response, giving you an unimpressed once-over before limping his way over to the newly stocked medicine cabinets.

“The one and only love,”

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I'm doing,” he gestured vaguely between himself and the medicine cupboards he was currently ransacking. You rolled your eyes, moving so you were leaning against one of the beds.

“It’s past curfew, you’re not supposed to be out here,” you grit your teeth as he pulled out some of the bandages and creams you’d just stocked.

“And what are you going to do about it Prefect, dock my house points,” his eyes flickered up to yours, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. That was why you finally noticed his black eye and the small cut in his lip, crimson droplets of blood dripping down his chin.

“What happened to you?” the change in topic seemed to surprise Regulus for a moment, as the steel in his eyes disappeared momentarily and he looked at you like you’d figured out some secret. Silence stretched between you, the soft glow of the lamps casting a shadow over Regulus’s guarded face.

“Nothing,” he spat the word out like you’d asked him something scandalous but you had hardly expected him to give you an actual answer. The silence in the room thickened and Regulus walked over to the couch against the wall, arms loaded with bandages and ointments. You noticed the various other injuries that littered his body. From your position against the bed, you could clearly see the long gash that went up from his ankle and the nasty bruise on his arm. You had no love lost for Regulus, he treated your friends like shit and you had made a conscious effort not to interact with him but it felt wrong to turn him in like this. You sighed, moving to the cupboards that he’d left open and a mess.

“Right, ‘cause your limping looks like a whole lot of nothing,” you grumbled as you repacked everything that he moved around and dropped on the ground. You felt like you were cleaning up after a child.

“Why so interested love? You gonna snitch to McGonagall?” Regulus rolled up his sleeve and began treating the small cut on his arm.

“I hardly think you licking your wounds is a pressing issue,” you replied, closing the now re-tided cupboards.

“Someone’s going soft, your friends would be so disappointed in you?” he put a pout into his words, intending to goad you into a fight. It worked.

“Fuck off Black, you should be thankful I’m letting you loiter around in here at all,” your words were sharp as you glared daggers into Regulus’s head. He didn’t look up from what he was doing, instead just scoffing at your words, “Your prissy ass got what it deserved, I should go thank whoever did this to you,” that got a reaction out of him. His head snapped up to meet your gaze, ice in his eyes, as he slowly stood up, taking two curt steps towards you. His body loomed over yours but you didn’t give in, staring up at him with just as much disdain.

“You need to learn when to stop talking,” you raised a single eyebrow in question, daring him to keep speaking. You would not yield to a spoiled asshole who thought he could get away with anything he fucking wanted.

“And you need to learn not to be a dick,” you sneered and Regulus’s gaze faltered ever so slightly, noting the anger in your eyes and moving back onto the couch. You could feel your jaw straining as you unconsciously ground your teeth together. “Hurry up and finish whatever you need to do so I can get out of here,” you bit out, housing your body up onto one of the infirmary beds. You had no idea how long this was going to take so you might as well get comfortable.

“I don’t need babysitting, you’re more than welcome to leave,” Regulus didn’t look up as he spoke, eyes narrowed in concentration as he moved to another scrape on his body.

“As much as I love to leave, I can’t,” you waved the set of keys that Madame Melafawe had given you up in the air “I have to lock up,”

“No need, I can do it,” he stuck his hand out – still not looking at you – like he expected you to just toss him the keys and skip off. You scoffed, griping the keys tighter in your fist.

“And let you fuck up and get me in trouble. Yeah right,”

“Believe it or not, I can manage locking a door,”

“I’m not so sure,” Regulus muttered something harshly under his breath – probably something less than nice about you – before dropping his outstretched hand.

The room settled into a tense silence as Regulus continued to tend to whatever cuts and bruises littered his body and you pretended not to be watching. You didn’t know what had happened to him and as curious as you were, you knew he wouldn’t take well to you pushing. But god you wanted to know. The Marauders naturally weren’t fans of Snape and by extension most of the Slytherins that he hung around, but with Regulus it was different. Being Sirius’s brother, everyone chose to keep out of his hair more so to make their friend’s home life easier than because they cared much for Regulus. Anything that happened to Regulus would get back to their parents, especially if it was because of Sirius. No one wanted him to go home to whatever his angry parents had in store. But that brought you back to your current question. What had happened to Regulus Black that he was in this state right now? He didn’t seem particularly pissed, at least not any more so than usual, in fact, he was almost acting as if this was normal. You frowned and stopped yourself from getting carried away. This wasn’t your business to meddle in, you were perfectly content watching this unfold from the sidelines. If anyone was messing with Regulus, you were sure he knew how to deal with it himself.

“I don’t think we’ve ever spoken to each other,” your voice was tentative as it broke the silence in the room, but the quiet was starting to get to you.

“It’s not like your group particularly likes me,” you raised your eyebrows, in all honesty, you hadn’t been sure he knew you hung around in the Marauders’ circle. “Don’t look at me like that just because I ignore your lot doesn’t make me ignorant,” that got a small chuckle from you, as you pulled your legs up onto the infirmary bed and tucked them underneath you.

“I just mean that I’m surprised we’ve never interacted given all the time we’ve been at Hogwarts,” you sighed falling back onto the less-than-comfortable bed to stare at the ceiling. Regulus hummed at your comment, wrapping up his last bandage and standing up. “Given the opportunity, would you have even tried to speak to me?”

“I don’t know do you have a less bitchy setting,” you asked grinning and hopping down from your perch on the bed. Regulus’s eyes lit up in amusement, the slightest hints of a smile dancing across his lips.

“Unfortunately, not love,” you shrugged following his lead as he moved towards the door.

“I’m sure I could knock you down a few pegs,” Regulus scoffed but didn’t respond. You could feel him rolling his eyes even as you walked behind him.

The cold air bit at your skin as you closed and locked the infirmary door. You could feel Regulus still hovering nearby. You weren’t sure why, you’d expected him to leave as soon as he could, yet here he was waiting for you. You weren’t scared but your shoulder tensed. You had no idea what he was thinking and you hated that. Letting out a slow, measured breath, you turned around, eyes locking with Regulus’s cool grey ones. You didn’t speak, just raised a singular eyebrow, waiting for him to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated – he didn’t even bother to hide it, which was surprising – but you could see the turmoil in his eyes as he mentally formed whatever sentence he was trying desperately to get out. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Regulus spun on his heel, turning his back to you. But he didn’t move. So neither did you. You could barely hear his breathing, cutting through the silence of the corridor, the cold air was sharp on your skin, and you really wanted to get back to your warm common room, but Regulus needed to say something, so something in you forced you to wait.

“Is Sirius-” he finally spoke and you noted the slight crack in his voice but chose to ignore it. Whatever Regulus wanted to say, it was far more important than pointing out his vocal mishap. “Is Sirius happy?” you knew he couldn’t see you but as soon as he said those words your shoulders relaxed and a soft smile graced your face. You knew the relationship between the two brothers was strained but you also knew how much Sirius still cared for Regulus. Knowing that Regulus reciprocated that care, even if it was only the tiniest bit, made you think maybe Regulus wasn’t as bad as everyone had decided.

“Yeah, he’s happy,” your feet stayed rooted to the floor, but a small part of you wanted to close the distance. “You could be happy too. You should talk to him, I know he’d like that,” you heard him scoff and for whatever reason your smile widened. You hadn’t expected him to roll over and follow you just because you’d asked but knowing he was thinking about his brother was enough for you. Neither of you moved, both trying to preserve the tentative peace that stretched between you but it was late and the cold was spreading through your body. “Good night Regulus,” he didn’t respond as you turned on your heel to head back to your common room but you heard his retreating steps. The sound was oddly comforting.

It was two days before you heard those footsteps again. You were sitting at the back of the library, tucked in a corner between two towering bookshelves with your nose buried in a potions book. You had an essay due and although Lily had promised to help you out she had to cancel last minute because James needed something. Stupid Potter. In all honesty, you’d helped James plan and set up the cute dinner in the astronomy tower for their anniversary but that didn’t quell the anger you felt for your potions essay. With a huff, you dropped your book onto the table and that was when you heard them. Soft but decisive footsteps, moving away from the chatter of the main library area and towards your reclusive corner. Regulus rounded the corner, mild surprise colouring his face as his eyes scanned over your slouched body. You hesitated between smiling and scowling, settling on some misshapen in-between.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, acutely aware of everyone else in the library. Regulus paused, gears shifting in his mind as his eyes flickered from you to your book to the empty seat at the desk. Something close to a resigned sigh slipped from his mouth before he dropped his bag onto the table and sat down opposite you. “You know most people ask before sitting down, I could be waiting on some friends,”

“Well, are you?” you had no response to that, grumbling and picking your book up instead which Regulus seemed to find hilarious. His laugh wasn’t soft but rather a deep resounding noise that rolled over your body like the tide. You found yourself drawn to the sound as it drew an imperceptible smile to your lips which you hid behind the contents of the potions book clenched in your hand.

“So you’ve been left here all alone have you?” he didn’t even try to hide his smile this time.

“That seems to be the case, just this stupid potions essay for company,” you gestured vaguely to the untouched parchment rolled up on the table.

“I believe an essay requires some form of writing,” Regulus nodded to the blank parchment “That’s just paper love,” you rolled your eyes, slouching further back into your seat.

“Fuck off Black,” you weakly brought the parchment towards your, reluctantly picking up your quill. “It’s potions, I’d get the same grade if I turned in a blank sheet as I would if I actually wrote an essay.”

“That’s horrifically disappointing. How can anyone be that bad at potions,” you groaned, dropping your head to the table.

“If I knew I would’ve fixed the problem by now,” he smiled and you almost got lost in the way his face relaxed and shifted to create such a pleasant sight but you caught yourself before you started, swooning. God forbid this man turns you into a blushing fool.

“Hand it over then, let’s see what we’re working with,” you pushed the book towards him, trying to ignore how Regulus was helping you and what exactly that meant.

“It’s on the aspects and effects of Amortentia or something,” you whined falling impossibly further into the table. Regulus ignored your spectacle flicking to the relevant pages in the books you were supposed to be reading. He hummed, dragging his chair around the table and next to you.

“This isn’t too complicated we should be able to get through it soon enough,” his gaze flicked up towards you leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t you have your own work to do,”

“Yes, but this seems to be more important, We can’t have Slughorn thinking you’re completely incompetent,” you scoffed but didn’t argue letting him grab quills and papers. “Come on then we’ve got work to do,”

“Feel free to start lecturing me on Amortentia, I’m listening,” you sat up straight, cocking your head to the side and waiting for him to begin.

“Not from there you’re not,” your eyebrows furrowed as Regulus shuffled reaching one hand out to the base of your seat. Then your eyes went wide as, in one smooth and confident motion, he pulled you and your seat right up next to him. Oh, that was definitely something. You desperately ignored the way your face flushed and how his thighs felt brushing against yours, instead focusing all your attention on the potions book laid out in front of you. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you drifting off in potions,” you could’ve sworn he moved closer, his breath ticking your ears as he spoke. “This way you have to listen to me,” you sat frozen in your seat, too scared to move lest it ruin whatever this moment was. You could feel his lips curling into a smirk as your entire body heated up from his proximity. The bastard was enjoying this. “What’s wrong love, you’re awfully quiet,” he moved impossibly closer, lips barely brushing the tips of your ears. You fucking shivered. Merlin help you, you wouldn’t be opposed to the ground opening up and swallowing you whole but unfortunately, you were granted no such escape. Instead, Regulus let out one of his gorgeous laughs and it took every ounce of will not to let your head tip back so you could revel in the way the sound wrapped around your body. You swallowed thickly before opening your mouth to speak, you didn’t know what you were going to say or what you wanted to say fortunately you didn’t have to worry about either because no words came out. Regulus snorted, shifting his body so he could pull the books toward you and just like that the moment was over. “Let’s get started shall we,” his face was blank, like the past few moments hadn’t even happened but you could see the mirth swimming behind his stormy eyes. What was this man doing to you?

Seconds quickly turned to minutes and soon enough you were crossing the hour mark. You wished you could say you were still paying attention but between the boring contents of the potions book and the near melodic qualities of Regulus’s voice your mind had drifted far far away. You’d tried to ignore it at first but your mind did what it wanted to. It wandered to the astronomy tower which you occasionally visited late at night. It was always so quiet up there a sort of peace that was hard to find elsewhere. And the stars – god they were something else. Somehow the night skies from the tower were always so clear, you assumed it was some type of Hogwarts magic so you didn't question it – just appreciated it. No one really knew you’d visit from time to time, you weren’t particularly secretive about it but no one had noticed your midnight rendezvous and you were grateful for that. You hadn’t been up there in a while, maybe it was about time you visited. Your mind wandered, mentally running through which night you had the time to go visit the tower and completely forgetting what you were supposed to be doing in the library.

A slight pain, like a bee sting, pricked at your hip and you jumped in surprise, a strangled cry escaping your mouth as your head snapped to the side, glaring at Regulus. “You pinched me,” your eyes were wide in disbelief.

“You weren’t listening,” he stared back at you, face relaxed like you should have been expecting it.

“You pinched me,” you were still reeling from his actions partly because he’d fucking pinched you and partly because he had pinched you. A gradual, almost calculated smile spread across his face. He thought this whole thing was funny.

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you don’t listen,”

“Asshole, you can’t just go around pinching people,” you slapped his hand away that was hovering near you menacingly.

“I wasn’t pinching people… just you,” his voice dropped an octave and you froze unsure how to respond. Fire rushed through your veins, the warm kind that made your body shiver and you looked up at Regulus through your lashes. The man in question stared down at you, something akin to confusion briefly flashing across his eye. You’d never seen him like this before, so solely focused on something. You.

“You’re immature,” the words were barely a whisper on your lips but they drew a tiny smile from Regulus.

“And you’re not?” Regulus raised an eyebrow but didn’t move from his position you were almost certain he moved a fraction closer, neck craning ever so slightly to cage you in. You scoffed at his murmured words but you were hardly paying attention. You were focused on his eyes, the way the grey colour swirled like smoke, effortlessly capturing the emotion in his eyes. You were so used to the expressionless, passive Regulus but right now you weren’t sure whose eyes you were gazing into.

“What are you doing Regulus,” you spoke, more air than noise but he heard you anyway. Regulus leaned in closer, moving so his lips hovered just above your ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and just like that he moved back, putting distance between the two of you. Your mind was whirling, having no idea how to process any of what just happened. “Back to being quiet I see,” hearing his more than amused voice snapped you back to reality and your face immediately shifted into a scowl.

“You know what I think I’ve learnt enough about Amortentia for today,” you hurriedly shoved your books and papers back into your bag. Regulus’s smile faltered and you almost felt bad but you ignored whatever sense made you want to stay.

“Come on love, I was just playing around,” yeah I know you wanted to stay but you held it back, simply giving him an awkward nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “I should get going but I’ll see you around,” the words were weak to your own ears and Regulus noticed it too but neither of you made any effort to breach the tension that was slowly building between you. It was like you could see the walls that he had let down slowly building back up. You grit your teeth and turn away.

“He’s fucking annoying is what he is,” you groaned, throwing your head back against the arm of the couch. Remus hummed in response, eyes not leaving whatever book he was reading. “And he thinks he can just waltz around wherever he wants and do whatever he wants and he just sucks,”

“Mhm,” you couldn’t tell if he actually wasn't listening or if he was just acting to spite you but whatever it was he got a response. You threw your legs out – gently – kicking him in the side drawing a startled grunt from Remus who promptly looked up from his book to glare at you. You smiled.

“Anyways as I was saying, what’s with him just cornering me in the library like that,” Remus rolled his eyes but sat up straighter, bookmarking his book and placing it off to the side. He reached out and grabbed your legs, throwing them over his lap so you weren’t bent awkwardly on the couch.

“Who’s this about?” he raised a single eyebrow and you groaned again.

“Regulus. Pay attention Remus,”

“Right, right,” he stretched out his back before turning to you again, lips pulled upwards into a lopsided smile. “So let me get this straight, you don’t like him because he gives you… attention?”

“Fuck you Moony,” you whined lobbing a pillow at his head which he barely managed to dodge. The sound of his amused laughter filled the room and as much as it was nice to lounge around laughing with your friend all you could think about was that his laugh sounded nothing like Regulus’s.

“No really explain it to me. I don’t understand the issue here,”

“It’s just- I don’t know- I mean he’s just-” you whined as you stumbled over your words, unsure how to properly articulate what you were feeling.

“He’s arrogant,” Remus started talking, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” you agreed, also dropping your head back to look at the ceiling. “And he’s so full of himself like he can do whatever he wants,” Remus hummed.

“It’s a type of confidence that’s more irritating than appealing,” you raised your eyebrows at his words.

“I don't know if I would call it confidence,” silence stretched between you as Remus didn’t respond and even though you couldn’t see him you knew he wasn’t convinced with what you were saying – and neither were you. “I mean I suppose you could call it that, but it just grates on my nerves you know, how he thinks he so entitled to everything,”

“I think that’s just because you’re not used to all that entitlement being focused on you,”

“Shut up asshole,”

“Has anyone ever told you to wash out your mouth with soap,” you could feel Remus laugh as he spoke and you chuckled with him. It was a comforting noise, a familiar one. Nothing like how you felt around Regulus, he was unpredictable and new. You weren’t sure if you liked it or hated it and honestly the more you thought of it the more of a headache you got.

“I’m just saying maybe he isn’t annoying but rather he makes you uncomfortable, you know new territory and whatnot,” Remus’s voice sounded far away so you shifted your body up to look at him. His eyes were soft, an equally soft smile on his face as he looked upwards at the ceiling. He hadn’t seemed to notice that you’d moved and you were looking at him. “I mean he is a Black, that’s kinda what they do,” it took you a moment but you put it together.

“You're kidding,” whatever stupor Remus was in he broke out of it, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Is this what Sirius was like before you two got together?” you laughed eyebrows raised but his tight-lipped smile told you everything you needed to know. “I guess being irritatingly conceited is just a genetic trait huh,” Remus laughed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily to enjoy the peace.

“Unfortunately so,” Remus sat up fully turning his body to face you “But whatever your dumbass decides to do I’m glad this happened. I know Sirius is too,” your eyebrows furrows and Remus paused like he wasn’t sure whether he should continue or not.

“What do you mean, what have you been telling Sirius,” you wanted for a response unsure what to expect.

“I haven’t been telling him anything, not that I have to you go and blab everything to him anyway,” you chucked another pillow at his head, this one hit him square in the head but he just rolled his eyes. “Actually Regulus came and talked to Sirius,”

“Shit really,” you dragged your legs underneath you, sitting up impossibly straighter.

“Yeah it was yesterday I think, Regulus cornered him in the evening and they had a good talk, couldn’t get Sirius to stop smiling afterwards,” your mouth unconsciously tipped into a smile thinking about the two brothers reconciling. “He’s coming around, it looks good,” you opened your mouth to speak but paused, hesitating. Remus noticed the shift in your demeanour and immediately started grinning again. “Want to know if he mentioned you?” his tone was teasing and amused. You really wished you had another pillow to throw at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, tilting your head in mock disdain.

“Well if you say so,” Remus stood up from the couch – the grin never dropping from his face. “I should really get going,”

“Wait Remus come on,”

“Nuh-uh, you gotta say the words,” he was enjoying this far too much and you swore to Merlin that you’d get him back somehow.

“Didhesayanythungbaoutme,” you muttered under your breath, almost inaudible.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I got that,” he lead forward amusement clearly written across his face. You grumbled, throwing yourself back onto the couch.

“Did he say anything about me,” you asked with little more conviction but an equally large amount of curiosity.

“I honestly have no idea, I didn’t think to ask Sirius,”

“REMUS!” you propelled yourself up from the couch but Remus had already made his way across the common room bounding up the stairs to the boys' rooms.

“Good luck,” he called out behind him as he turned the corner and out of sight. You sighed lying down on the couch, one arm flung across your eyes.

It would’ve been a lie to say you weren’t looking for him. You’d come to expect him at every turn. You sighed, kicking a loose stone as you climbed the stairs up to the astronomy tower. It had been a while since you’d come up here and it seemed like a nice night today although the cold did bite at any bare skin but that was hardly unusual. You pulled your robe tighter before opening the door. Immediately the chill air washed over you, grabbing at any loose hairs and scratching at the exposed skin of your face. Most people found the cold uncomfortable and maybe it was to an extent but you found solace in it. The cold was as gentle as it was unforgiving and anything that gave you an excuse to snuggle up under a blanket was a good thing in your books. You let your eyes flutter shut, embarrassing the familiar sensation but someone clearing their throat broke you out of your feeble trance. 

You wanted to say you were surprised when you saw the grey-eyed Black sibling standing in front of you but you knew the truth.

“Regulus,” your words were curt but not unkind, rather they were filled with hesitation, the same hesitation that no doubt coloured your face.

“Hey,” his words were soft and warm and all the things you wanted right now. Any less resolute person would’ve melted then and there. It turned out you had very little resolve. A slow and gentle smile crept up your cheeks as you looked at him through your lashes. You were still gripping your robe tightly to fight the cold but now you held on to anchor yourself from all the feeling you felt in Regulus’s presence. You scanned his face eyes falling on the small cut at his lip and above his eyebrow. Your eyebrows furrowed and you took an unconscious step forward, arms automatically reaching up to inspect the wounds. Regulus didn’t move, letting your hands graze over the small cuts. His eyes fluttered shut and your heart picked up speed.

“Do you want me to…” your repentance trailed off, an unsaid question hovering in the air.

“Please,” his response was breathy and your legs almost gave out. You let your hands properly settle on his face and other than a small jolt from the cold touch of your palms Regulus didn’t react. Like your hands were meant to cradle his face.

“Sit down, I’ve got some stuff on me,” you pulled out a small pouch from the inside pocket of your cloak and moved to kneel in front of Regulus’s seated form. You started with the cut above his eyebrow, cleaning the cut with an antiseptic wipe before moving to bandages. “You want to tell me how you got these this time,” you raised an eyebrow without looking at him. You weren’t sure you were ready to look at him just yet. Not when you were less than two inches from his body.

“It’s this thing the Slytherins do,” you honestly hadn’t expected him to say anything but you didn’t react and let him talk. “The parents all say it ‘builds character’ whatever that’s supposed to mean-” Regulus hissed as you moved to the cut at his lips, his hand reflexively lifting to cradle yours. You didn’t move.

“Sorry,” you mumbled still not looking directly at him. Regulus didn’t seem to like that. The hand that was hovering above yours traced its way across to your jaw and you had nothing in you to resist when he tilted your head to look at him.

“-It’s a duelling club,” it took you a moment to realise he was still talking about how he got his injuries, too lost in whatever this moment was. “But it’s just Slytherins so it can get… messy,” you paused a moment before responding, taking a second to process all the information.

“Fuck Regulus, that’s not good,” you had no idea why but he smiled up at you, leaning back on his arms. You couldn’t help but smile back. “Stop smiling it’s not funny,” your words were supposed to be chastising but they came out more amused than anything.

“I missed your voice,” your cheeks heated up at his words and you honestly contemplated jumping off the tower.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the man sprawled out in front of you. 

“Don’t be like that love,” he reached out grabbing one of your hands and tucking it into his cheek. His eyes closed as he fucking nuzzled into your hand. You wanted to fall into the man in front of you. Pull him close and never let him go but you weren’t sure he’d let you.

“Regulus,” you breathed out and the way he looked up at you through his lashes had you turing into putty in his hands.

“Yes love?” he purred, eyes flicking hesitantly between your eyes and lips. Fuck it.

You lunged forward capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. His entire body was tense and for a moment you hesitated, pulling away from his body but whatever he felt was gone in an instant as he brought one of his hands to the back of your neck, stopping you from retreating. Your body followed your movements, legs straddling his as you deepened the kiss to feel more of him. Your body pressed against his and he groaned as your lips parted, giving him access to your mouth. You brought your hands up to his head, one holding the side of his face, exactly where he’d been holding it before, and the other going behind to tangle in the loose curls at the base of his head. You tugged experimentally at his hair earning you another earnest groan. You smiled into the kiss when you heard Regulus mutter incorrigible under his breath. Your head tilted to the side, letting Regulus pepper kisses across your jaw and at your neck.

“Fuck I didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight,” you giggled when he lifted his head, eyes filled with adoration as he gazed at you.

“So this isn’t why you asked Sirius where I liked to hang out?” Regulus had the sense to sheepishly look away when you called him out but he didn’t let go of your body and for that you were thankful. You were starting to think that you could get used to feeling his body pressed against yours.

“So you found out about that did you,”

“I made an educated guess,” you smiled down at him placing a soft kiss on his temple, right on top of the cut you’d just bandaged. A cold gust of wind blew over you, goosebumps rising up your neck as you shivered. Regulus smiled and pulled you impossibly closer, lying back against the stone floor so he could wrap both arms around you. He slid one hand up to tangle in your hair as the other rubbed soothing circles on your lower back.

“So is this going to become a regular thing,” your eyes fluttered closed but you listened to his words, grinning into his chest as you spoke.

“What the kissing or the cuddling,” Regulus laughed and you shivered at the sound. You could die happy if you were surrounded but that blissful noise.

“Both ideally,” your smile grew wider,

A few days had passed since your encounter with Hermione and other than your midnight tears slowly drying up nothing had changed. Draco was as chipper as ever, or at least as chipper as a Malfoy could be. You were beginning to hate Hermione for involving you in all this mess and as every day passed another weight was added to your chest. You hated thinking that you were keeping something so important from Draco but you didn’t think you could handle being caught in the crosshairs of this mess when it inevitably blew up so, like a coward, you stayed silent and waited.

Currently, you were sprawled across the couch in the corner of Blaise’s dorm, legs haphazardly thrown across his lap and a book in hand. You’d skipped potions – yet again – and Blaise had found you alone in the common room and had told you to come hang out with him. He had no idea quite how grateful you were to have something to stop your mind from spiralling.

“I’ll never understand why you love those muggle books so much,” you lifted your head from the pages of your books to look at Blaise, eyebrows raised.

“They’re inspiring, how they create these great worlds while completely oblivious to the truths of ours,” Blaise pinched your ankle – hard – sly grin on his face as he watched you yelp in surprise. “What the fuck was that for,”

“You were starting to sound like a prick, had to bring you back to normal,” you sneered at him, reaching out for the nearest pillow and lobbing it at his head. “You’re such an ass,” you moved your legs off him and grabbed another pillow before lunging at him, weapon of choice in hand. “I have no idea-” you smacked him square across the face with the pillow as he stumbled off the couch and away from your looming figure, a bright grin on his face. “-how so many people-” you pounced off the couch hitting him again across the chest and pushing him to the floor “-like your stupid face,” you took up position on his chest and held the pillow to his face as he squirmed on the floor, shoving you to get off him. “Apologise for pinching me,” your face hurt from how much you were smiling but it was a welcome pain. You heard Blaise mumble something from under the pillow and moved it to hear him better.

“They also like my stupid mouth,” you scrunched up your face in disgust and he took that moment to shift his weight and push you off his body and onto the floor next to him. The pair of you dissolved into laughter, the carpet scratched at your bare arms but you didn’t mind it felt so nice to be like this.

Slowly your combined laughter quietened and the pair of you lay on the floor in content, soft smiles brightening your faces. Beside you, Blaise shifted, turning his body to lie on his side and face you. His gaze was focused intently on your face but you stayed staring at the ceiling taking in the dark grey stone. 

“It’s nice to hear you laugh, you’ve been off for a while,” your smile faltered and you tilted your head to look at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I've felt fine,” Blaise’s face tightened at your words, he pitied you and you hated it. “I’m serious Blaise nothing’s wrong, it’s probably just all the work that I've been catching up on,”

“Draco might be blind but I'm not,” your lips turned downward in a frown hearing the pathetic tone of his voice.  

“Or Pansy’s been running her mouth,” you snapped at him, turning your head back to the ceiling. You could feel Blaise rolling his eyes as he rolled back, staring up at the ceiling with you.

“Don’t be like that,”

“I just don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in my business,” you scoffed.

“You’re my friend,” Blaise chuckled and somehow the sound soothed you “anything that concerns you is my business,”

“You’re a nosy prick,” you could feel Blaise roll his eyes at your stubbornness.

“I know you don't want to talk about it but for what it’s worth I don’t really think Granger and Draco are going to work out,” you know it was meant to be a joke, hell Blaise was laughing beside you but he had hit the nail on the head and broken the dam.

“Shut up,” you wrenched your body off the ground shifting so your back was against the bed and your legs were tucked into your chest. Blaise noticed your change in tone and shifted to see you. “Come on it’s just a joke. I don’t really-”

“Blaise. Shut. Up.” you kept your eyes trained on your knees, lips set in a grim line. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or yell but whatever it was you held it in.

“What,” Blaise fully turned around so he was facing you straight on. “Did I say something wron-”

“Stop.” you could feel the tears pricking at your eyes and your heart speeding up but this wasn’t the same feeling you felt every night. You didn’t feel the pain or the helplessness that clouded your mind every night you sobbed yourself to sleep. Right now you were angry. Angry at being put in such a stupid situation, angry that Draco was acting like some lovesick food, angry that everyone was so up in your business. You hated all of it. Your body shook as you took deep heaving breaths to try and calm yourself. Blaise had fully turned around to face you and was now looking at you with a mixture of confusion and concern. His hands were hovering awkwardly in the air, clearly unsure what to do in the situation. You tried to smile at him but between your aggressive breathing and furrowed eyebrows, you knew it didn’t look particularly convincing.

A part of you hated yourself for not defending Draco, not trying to fix whatever Hermione’s problem was but an even bigger part of you was mad that you cared enough to hate yourself. You loved Draco – you truly did – but you hated how it had consumed you and reduced you to some simpering fool. You were better than this, you were more than this. The regret of not helping Draco and the anger at yourself festered in your body, fighting for dominance. Tears refused to fall but your lungs also refused to fill with air, your breaths coming in short desperate gasps. You bowed your head trying to curl into a ball away from Blaise but he got to you first. You could feel the confusion radiating off him in waves but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you and awkwardly wrapped his arms around your now-shaking frame. You relaxed your body slightly letting yourself fall into Blaise’s arms which tightened when you got comfortable. You focused on the soft material of his shirt on your face and the scratch of the carpet across your legs – anything that stopped your mind from wandering.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” his words were so sincere, nothing could’ve stopped the words from tumbling out of your mouth. You told him everything. You told him your feelings for Draco, you told him what Hermione had told you, anything and everything that had been weighing on you, you told him and Blaise sat there, arm warped around you and he listened. It was nice to have someone listen to you, not offer advice, not fix the issue just listen.

You untucked yourself from Blaise's arm but he stayed sitting next to you. Silence stretched between the two of you but it was hardly uncomfortable, you melted into the stillness before Blaise opened his mouth to speak.

“Look, I understand that your feelings are…complicated but you have to understand that you’re not responsible for any of this,” you could feel his gaze on the side of your face but you weren’t ready to face him so you kept your eyes trained forward. “This whole mess has nothing to do with you and just because Hermione forced you into the middle of it doesn't mean you're responsible to fix it,” everything that he said made sense but there was still a tiny annoying part of you that said you had every power to help your friend so you should.

“He’s my friend, Blaise, it kills me that I'm not sorting this out,”

“No he’s more than a friend to you and that’s why you want to fix this for him but as much is it hurts you need to step back,” He was right, you knew he was right. You dropped your head onto his shoulder, lip quivering imperceptibly.

“I don’t know if I can,” you choked the words out from somewhere deep in your heart. You loathed to admit it but your heart lit up when Draco was near and you weren’t sure you if were ready to give up that feeling. Beside you, Blaise hummed and you knew he wasn’t judging you just taking in everything you said.

“I can’t help you with that but even you have to know to some extent that you need to put some distance between yourself,” you finally turned to Blaise and he smiled as he continued to talk. “I know you don’t want to be defined as Draco’s shadow so go find yourself or some shit,” that's when you broke down into laughter.

“That was so corny,” Blaise was smiling equally as hard.

“Excuse me for offering you advice you little shit,”

“You should be a therapist, maybe that’s your calling,” Blaise rolled his eyes, swatting at your arm to get you to shut up.

“You’re a real pain in my ass you know that,”

“I’m well aware but you love me,” Blaise actually groaned at your words making you throw your head back and continue laughing.

“Unfortunately,” he mumbled under his breath but you could see the way he smiled as he watched your face light up in laughter. You were glad you had someone like Blaise, he was more of a brother than a friend and you were grateful to know you’d always have him beside you.

“Thanks for this Blaise, it means a lot,”

“Don’t go getting sappy on me, it’s gross,”

“Asshole,” you slapped his arm.

“What in Merlin’s name is going on in here,” your head snapped to the door when you heard the voice. Somehow you hadn't noticed the door opening and you cursed yourself for that because there in front of you was Draco. “Can you pricks not go one day without disturbing the peace of everyone around you,” Draco’s eyes were red as they angrily flicked between you and Blaise. It seemed Hermione had grown the balls to tell him. Fuck.

“Sorry we should get going,” your voice was meek as you hurriedly pushed yourself off the floor, Blaise following suit beside you. “I’ll get out of your hair I'm sorry,” you winced as your mouth continued to apologise.

“Like hell you are,” Draco grabbed onto your wrist as you walked past and for the first time in your relationship you felt fear. Fear that whatever was about to happen would ruin the friendship you had been nurturing since you first met.

“Draco wha-” Blaise tried to speak up but Draco just raised his hand stopping him in his tracks.

“This doesn't involve you I suggest you leave,” Blaise opened his mouth to protest but Draco cut him off “Leave,” his tone was final but somehow Blaise had it in him to ignore his lifelong friend and turned to you tilting his head in question. Should I leave? You nodded in answer to his silent question, whatever was about to happen you were going to deal with it by yourself. You had to prove to yourself that you could. Blaise nodded in understanding, glowering at Draco as he walked past and out of the room.

“Now tell me why she said she came to you,” how wonderful Hermione had thrown you under the bus. Apparently, she just couldn’t stomach Draco only being mad at her.

“She asked for advice and I helped her out,” your lips were set into a firm line and your face was impassive. You were more than willing to explain what had happened but you would not be intimidated into groveling for his forgiveness. Blaise's words rang in your ears – you had done nothing wrong – he was right and it was about time you acted like it.

“Did you tell her to do it?” you raised your eyebrows at his question, watching him with thinly veiled caution as he paced back and forth, fidgeting with the heirloom ring on his finger. “I know you two are friends. Did you tell her I wouldn’t be any good for her or about how she could do so much better,”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your eyebrows deepened into a frown and as much as you wanted to step forward and comfort him, your body hesitated. For the first time since you had been friends, you hesitated to reach out and help him. It felt unnatural but it was what both of you needed right now – what you needed. “Why on earth would I do that”

“Then what the hell did you do,” Draco had said many things to you in time that you had been friends but you had never been on the revising end of this much anger. It wasn’t disappointment or irritation this was the type of anger that burned through your body and mind the type that broke families and ripped up friendships – and it was all focused on you.

“I promise you I didn’t say anything to her,” anger ripped through your own body. How dare he accuse of this. You had been rolling around in your sleep, beating yourself up for not doing more and somehow here he was accusing you of sabotaging his nonexistent relationship. “Do you really think I have nothing better to do than go around meddling in your business,” you took a decisive step forward bringing you face to face with Draco. “Hermione came to me for advice on how to turn you down and I helped her as a friend,” you stabbed a finger into his chest, body alight with fury. “You had nothing to do with my choices,” Draco rolled his eyes at your tone taking a step back to put some space between you two.

“Like that’s believable,” your frown deepened and you looked at him with confused anger. You were still so fucking angry

“What’s that supposed to mean asshole,” Draco tsked his eyes apathetic as they looked at you. He’d never looked at you like this before – like you were nothing.

“Everyone knows you have an…interest in me,” your body almost buckled at his words but you stood firm “you really expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this.” Unbelievable, this man was fucking unbelievable. You were embarrassed and exasperated and confused – you were feeling far too much for your body to process so you honed in on the only clear emotion. Anger

“Are you fucking serious,” your voice went up an octave, shock and outrage colouring your tone “the first time you acknowledge my feelings and it’s to throw it in my face about something I had nothing to do with,” You stepped forward, advancing on Draco who’s eyes widened in some emotion but you didn’t care enough to decipher what he was feeling. You were done with caring. “If you don’t fucking remember I was the one who picked your damn flowers and gave you your stupid fucking pep talks,” you were chest to chest with him now and he looked genuinely remorseful – or maybe he was just scared. You’d never yelled at him before, at least not about anything important but now here you were, anger in your heart and acid on your tongue as you dug into him. “Do you honestly believe someone who was jealous, would do all that or are you just thick,”

“Calm Down-”

“-Do not tell me to calm down!” the anger exploded and it took every piece of will to not slap him across the face. “You don’t get to come in here making outrageous claims and then tell me to fucking calm down when I shut you up,” you took a step away from him, scanning him head to toe in disgust. “I have never pushed my feelings onto you, all I wanted was for you to be happy but looking at you now, I don’t even know why,” your lip curled in disgust and you moved to leave the room. “Don’t speak to me until you’ve come to your senses,”

“You’re a bitch you know that right,” he called to your retreating figure.

It had been exactly a week since you’d given Drcao the flowers. Seven days since he’d dropped them on Granger’s study tale in the library and Draco hadn’t stopped bitching about it. The first two days had been hell on earth. You really had thought you’d be able to get through it but hearing him talk day and night about whether Granger had gotten the flowers and what she’d thought of them and if she’d liked the little note he’d given here was more than just exhausting. It was painful. You had tried and tried but you couldn’t keep up the smile and laughs as if nothing was wrong so you’d done something about it. You’d started avoiding Draco. It was something you’d never have thought you would do but you ducked and weaved through people to avoid him in the corridors and skipped meals to avoid him during the day. You’d even skipped potions earlier, it was the only class you shared with Draco and right now you couldn’t bear to look at his face. You were sure it wouldn’t hurt to skip potions just this once – or until you had it in you to get over the man. Then you had opted to stay for just a bit longer, in case you ran into him in the common room and just like that it was almost night and you hadn't moved from your reclusive table. 

The library was mostly empty except for the few Ravenclaw study groups dotted around the room, muttering under their breaths as they compared notes. You didn’t care about any of the other people here right now though, as long as you were nowhere near Draco you were fine. There was a table towards the back of the library that you had always favoured, it was out of the way from the hustle and bustle of everyone but, you could still see into the centre of the library where everyone was gathered. It was a perfect place for studying or people-watching, whatever you decided to do with your afternoon.

A call of your name drew your attention, as you turned your body around to find the source of the voice. Bright brown eyes met yours and your chest clenched in response as Hermione made her way towards you, a beautiful smile painting her equally gorgeous face. This was the problem with her, you had no and could never find a reason to hate her. She had always been nice to you, smiling at you in the corridors and helping you out when you were paired together in class. She was a wonderful person and you understood why Draco liked her. They had a strange ongoing banter, something that no one else was privy to. It was like their own little inside joke that always kept them connected and always kept everyone else out. They challenged each other in ways that other people didn’t quite comprehend. It was a beautiful dance that you weren’t a part of and deep down you knew there was nothing you could do to take that position from Hermione.

“What are you doing here?” You forced as much false cheer into your voice as you could as Hermione pulled up a chair beside you.

“Oh I was just finishing up an essay for potions but what about you, you’re not normally here around this time,” your hand stilled over your quill and a strange sense of surprise washed over you. She had been paying attention to you, sure you were friends of sorts but every time her name was mentioned your heart clenched and your stomach soured. It hadn’t occurred to you that she didn’t feel the same. As far as she was concerned you were just another friend. You weren’t sure how to feel about that. You smiled at her, it was so close to genuine that you could almost convince yourself you were happy that Hermione had stopped by.

“Transfiguration work,” you nodded to your open textbook and rolled out parchment. “Lots to catch up, you know how it is. I swear the professors think we’re fucking robots or something,” Hermione laughed, the sound sweet and bold just like her, it made your shoulders relax and your body easy. You had forgotten how nice it was to be around her. She was a good person, the kind of person you want to hold close. You knew that she would always have your back even though you weren’t that close and that’s why it was so hard to hate her. Because no matter how horrible this entire ordeal was for you, Hermione had done nothing wrong. She was so wonderful, how could Draco not fall for her. Hermione grabbed her own stuff, unrolling what seemed to be an excessively long essay. She glanced over at your book, eyes briefly scanning it before her face lit up in a smile.

“Oh, I revised that last week, let me know if you want some help,” if anyone else had said that you would’ve rolled your eyes and left the room but this was Hermione, she was genuine – she always had been – so you just smiled and nodded in response.

It hadn’t even been a couple of minutes before Hermione spoke up again.

“I’m sorry I lied,” her words were hurried and you looked up from your book in confusion. “....about wanting to help me?” you raised your eyebrows still very unsure what she was talking about.

“No no, not that we can still do that… if you want. Umm no this is about something else,” you nodded slowly, still slightly lost but you put your quill down nonetheless, turning your attention to the girl next to you.

“So…what’s wrong?” Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, eyes flickering from one place to another – never settling on your face.

“I’m sure you know,” her words were tentative, eyeing you and the books around you cautiously as if something might jump up and steal her secrets “But I got flowers… from Draco,” your breath caught in your throat and your mouth went dry. You had no idea where this conversation was going but you already knew you hated it. You had come to the library to get away from Draco yet somehow still he followed you around like a phantom and now you were sitting, discussing with the object of his desires.

“Yes he mentioned it,” you forced a smile onto your face, portraying a smiling happy friend. All the emotions you wished you could feel but your heart would not allow. “I hope you liked them, they looked quite lovely,” despair was slowly creeping into your voice but somehow the ever-observant Hermione didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh yes, they were gorgeous, it was so nice of him to do that. It was so… un-Draco-like if you know what I mean,”

“Well he must really like you,” you laughed, the sound hollow to your ears. You needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

“He’s great, isn’t he. He’s different than when we were younger but I can’t say it isn’t nice, I can actually have a proper study session with him now without being concerned he’s going to jinx me,” Hermione giggled, her eyes far away and thinking of how far they had all come. She was straight though, they had all changed oh so much it was really a miracle when you thought about it. They had so many opportunities to stay as enemies – opposing houses on opposing sides of the war – but once it had all been over everyone had chosen the same side.

Reconciliation.

Some part of you, the dark part that you could never seem to shake, wished everyone had stayed enemies at least then you might have had a chance with Draco. He might’ve looked at you first instead of Hermione.

“I’m glad we can all be friends or maybe something more in your case,” you had no idea why you were entertaining this conversation. Every one of Hermione’s smiles sent a dagger through your chest and you were reminded of why Draco had chosen her yet you stayed, rooted to the spot as though your heart enjoyed the pain. Hermione’s laugh was awkward and you picked up on it immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You had expected her to be excited, shy even, but this tentatively had not been something you expected. “Something’s wrong, what is it, what’s wrong?” 

“Did he do something? God, I told him not to be stupid!” The words were tumbling out of your mouth and you had no control of what came out. “Whatever it was I’ll apologise on his behalf, I’m sure he didn’t mean it whatever it was,” your mind was fighting with itself, you wanted to scream and cry and laugh but all you could do was try to fix whatever stupid mistake Draco had made like you had always done. You wanted him to be happy and if Hermione gave that to him then you would do whatever was in your power to make sure that happiness never left because that man – your Draco – deserved the world and you would give him just that even if it broke your heart to do so. “I’m sure you two can just talk it out an-”

“No, no, no, it’s not like that, it’s nothing like that. Draco is fine, he’s great in fact but he’s not for me,” Hermione’s words rushed out of her mouth and you paused slowly taking them in and piecing them together in your mind.

“I’m sorry what, I’m not following,”

“He’s not right for me, I don’t like him like that,”

“Oh,” it was a small pathetic noise and it was the only word you could muster.

“He’s wonderful don’t get me wrong but I love someone else,” the world slowed down around you and your lungs were desperately trying to decide if there was too much air or not enough. This was stupid, this couldn’t be happening. All that shit and she didn’t even want him. He had been going on and on – ‘Granger this, Granger that’ – so much so that it made your ears bleed but you had pushed through, you had listened and smiled because it made him happy and all you wanted was for him to be happy. You had picked his flowers and helped him talk to her all for what? For absolutely fucking nothing because she didn’t love that gorgeous man back and as much as you wanted to scream and shout and let the pure anger course through you, for whatever reason, you couldn’t. You felt hollow and numb as Hermione stared back at you eyes wide and desperate for a solution. You had made every sacrifice that no one should have to go to, you had cried yourself to sleep knowing that Draco would never love you back but you had done it to see him smile, you had done it because he deserved the world and more and now that smile would shatter and your heart with it. You bit your tongue – hard – to keep the tears at bay, this was not the time for your emotions.

“How did he take the news,”

“That’s the thing-”

“Hermione,” your tone was harsh, a warning because you knew exactly what was coming.

“I didn’t exactly tell him,” it was like someone had dunked you in the Black Lake, chills raked over your body and for a moment you stopped breathing.

“Hermione. what. the. Fuck.” You couldn’t even begin to figure out how you were supposed to fix this mess. Draco was currently sitting in potions thinking Hermione fancied him and Hermione was here telling you that wasn’t the case.

“I panicked, I don’t know what came over me, I just froze it was silly I know,” you didn’t know why she was telling you this, as if you weren’t in a shitty enough place already, someone just had to make it worse. You didn’t want to be in the middle of all this, you didn’t want to be anywhere near all this mess and yet here you were and you knew that you’d stay here until everything was fixed and Draco was okay because that was who were and who you always would be.

“You have to tell him,”

“I know but I don’t know how,”

“Is that why you came to me, for help?” her silence was all the answer you needed. “You just need to go up to him and tell him,” you sighed, letting your face drop into your hands “It’s the best way to go about it, he’ll take it best if you’re direct about it,”

“I can’t…” you could feel your headache growing.

“What do you mean you can’t,”

“He’s my friend, I don’t want to lose him,”

“Well we can’t have it all now can we Granger,” you snapped at her, lips turned upwards in a sneer. You hadn’t meant to come off as rude, she was coming to you for help but she was holding everything you had ever wanted in her hands and turning it away. You couldn’t even begin to understand what you were feeling but it definitely wasn’t pleasant.

“I’d hardly expect you to understand,” Hermione snapped back. It came from nowhere, pure unbridled anger rose through your body pushing away all the tears and pain you had felt. You raised a single eyebrow daring Hermione to continue. It was the face - the true face - of Slytherin, unmoving and fierce. “I’m sorry that’s not what I meant,” Hermione backtracked quickly “It’s just that… I don’t want him to hate me,” you scoffed in response.

“If that was the case you would’ve told him on the spot,” you began to pack away your things, shoving them unceremoniously into your bag. “Instead here you are leading him on,”

“That’s not fair,” Hermione spoke frantically, her hands waving around in the air as if that could stop you from leaving. “You know that’s not what I'm trying to do-”

“Really? Because from where I'm standing you have the affections of an incredible man and instead of meeting him head on you’re skirting around like a pathetic cockroach,”

“Stop it, you’re being cruel,” You saw the quiver in her lip and the way her eyes began to water but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care

“You are a lot of things Hermione Granger but I never took you for a coward, frankly it’s disappointing,” you stood from the table, bag clutched tightly in your hands. You turned to leave but Hermione jumped up and grabbed your arm, keeping you from moving.

“You don’t know what this is like. I came to you for help,” your back was turned to her but still you could hear the desperation and pain in her voice.

“You’re right I don’t know what it’s like to be in your… position but I have given you your advice, it’s up to you whether or not you choose to act on it,” she didn’t need to know how deeply you longed to be in her position and she didn’t need to see the tears slowly rolling down your face. Somehow through the whole ordeal you kept your voice steady or maybe Hermione was too wrapped up in herself to see what this was doing to you. Behind, you heard the shuffling of books and you took that moment to wipe away any stray tears, praying no one would notice your slightly red eyes.

“Well thanks for your help,” Hermione didn’t look at you as she spoke and her words were hollow, devoid of any true appreciation but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. “You’re right, I’ll speak to him,” Hermione brushed past you, moving to leave the little nook of the library that you were in.

“Hermione,” you called out just before she could turn the corner. Your voice sounded dull to your ears but she didn’t seem to notice. Hermione paused, she didn’t turn but she stayed waiting for you to speak. “Who is it? The man you love, who is he?” you really wanted her to say someone incredible, some other rich pure blood or maybe a quidditch player, you knew she was close with Krum in your fourth year. You knew those weren’t the names she would utter though, it was clear as day who she was infatuated with and Draco had ignored all your warnings and gone and loved her anyway.

“It’s Ron,” she didn’t wait for your reply and quickly made her way out of your sight. Of course, it was Weasly he was everything that Draco was not. 

Your body fell back down into the chair and that was when the tears began to fall. One after another they streaked down your face and landed on your shirt. You crumpled into yourself, soft sobs shaking your body. You were so sick of this, so sick of that tiny ounce of hope being crushed over and over again. You had come to terms with the fact that Draco would never love you but at least he would’ve been happy with Hermione and you were ready to live with that. But now – now he would not be with Hermione, he had put himself out there for her and she had turned him down. He would be broken and miserable and you had no idea how long it would take before he smiled again but all the same, he would not love you. Your breath hitched and you tucked your legs into your chest, you could feel your shirt was damp against your skin but the tears wouldn’t stop and the weight on your chest made it hard to breathe.

“y/n…” your head whipped up and you furiously wiped at your tears. You were not pathetic, you were better than this and you would not be found in this position but it was too late. You blinked up at the man who had found you, fresh tears blurring your vision as he bounded towards you. “What’s wrong, what happened?” his grey eyes were etched in concern, silver hair sticking up in all directions which reminded you just how late it was. Then he knelt down before you and you felt that everything was over. Cold hands grabbed yours, pulling them away from your face and bringing them down to your lap. “Talk to me,” his words were so sincere and that just brought a new wave of tears as you tried and failed to speak through your sobs. Draco frowned and dropped your hands moving his own up to your face. The pleasant chill from his hands almost brought a smile to your face and he waited, gently wiping away your tears as your breathing steadied and your tears slowed. “Better?” you nodded, a reluctant smile gracing your face as you pulled his hands away from your face. You would not let yourself pretend that any of this meant more than it did. You knew your delusions would only lead you to pain as they had so many times before. You had to protect yourself.

“I’m fine Draco, really,”

“Bullshit,” he snapped getting up off his knees and pulling you out of your chair with him. “No one who’s fine sits in the library in the middle of the night bawling their eyes out-”

“-I was hardly bawling,” Draco shot you a look that instantly quieted you although the smile didn’t leave your face. It was just so easy to talk to him, it hadn't even taken him more than a few moments to calm you down. Everything about him was easy, nothing felt like work, all you felt was serene when he was around and if the universe would let you, you would gratefully bask in that feeling for the rest of your life. “I’m serious Dray, I’m absolutely fine,”

“Don’t lie to me, you know I hate it when you lie to me,” he reached for your forearms, tugging you closer to him and loosely wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“It’s nothing, transfigurations was just getting to me,” the lies felt bitter on your tongue but you didn’t let your face give you away but it wasn’t any use Draco knew. His lips were set in a grim line, more than aware you were lying but he had the sense not to push. Instead, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You tucked your head under his chin and he hummed, the sweet noise vibrating through your body. Het let his hands trail through your hair, untangling the knots as he went and you just stayed there letting your body melt into his his.

“I know you're lying,” his voice was just a murmur as he spoke directly into your ear. Goosebumps raised along your arms and the back of your neck but you paid them no heed. You would not let your mind fall into false pretences. “I’ll let you keep your secrets but you must promise to come to me if anything is actually wrong,” you laughed but nodded into his chest.

“I promise,” your words were just above a whisper and spoken into Draco’s chest but somehow he still heard you. He would always hear you over the echoing voices of the Great Hall and he would always find you in the crowded corridors but no matter how many times he came to you he would never be yours. The thought was sobering and you pulled away from him, taking two decisive steps back to put space between the both of you. “It’s getting late we should go,” you reached for your satchel but Draco beat you to it, snatching it off the desk.

Cold air bit at your skin causing goosebumps to trail up your arms as you hurriedly made your way through the grounds. Wet grass brushed against your ankles sending the cold straight through your legs. You wrapped your arms around your body as best as you could while holding the small bunch of flowers gently in your hands. They were hellebores, the whites of the petals a bright contrast to the glum and wet morning surrounding you. Deep magenta splattered across the pristine petals like little droplets of blood. You could see why someone would like them but you weren’t a fan, they were too pure too clean. It felt faked. Patches of the hellebores were dotted around the Hogwarts garden, you were sure Hagrid loved them with how well they were maintained, they always had enough water and enough attention. You didn’t dwell on it too much, hurrying your pace when the side door came into view. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. This was a whole other level of pathetic.

You took a sharp right, heading down the stairwell towards the dungeons and your common room. You were practically running at this point, desperate to get out of the, now increasing, cold. Rounding the corner you came face to face with the common room entrance. It was a deep mahogany door with intricate designs etched into it. The door was bordered by a huge stone snake that looked like it was crawling over the door to protect it. Standing in front of it always reminded you of the first time you were here. If only you had known then where you’d end up, maybe you would’ve made different friends.

You’d made it to Hogwarts and through the sorting ceremony all in one piece and you couldn’t have been more excited. Someone brushed past your side as you moved in a group with the rest of the newly sorted first years down towards the Slytherin common rooms. Your house hadn’t been a surprise, you came from a long line of Slytherins and Ravencaws and you were certain you didn’t have the brains of a Ravenclaw so here you were standing with your fellow Slytherins as the Prefect muttered the code under his breath to open the door.

Pureblood. The word was hollow and soft as it left your mouth, your breath fogged up the air in front of you as you waited. With a loud whine, the doors pushed open like some unknown force was opening them for you and you stepped forward into the place you’d called home for the past seven years. Immediately you felt warmth rush over your body and you breathed a sigh of relief as your body stopped shivering. The common room was empty but you could hear the soft rustles of movement upstairs as the early birds got ready for their morning study sessions. You’d never been a morning person, the very thought of waking up early and getting out of your warm bed irked you. Everyone knew not to wake you unless they wanted you to be a grouchy monster for the rest of the day but you knew that some people enjoyed the mornings. You knew she liked the mornings.

You creep upstairs into your dorm room desperate not to wake anyone up. Shuffling silently past all your sleeping friends you made your way to the very end of the dorm where your bed was. On the bedside table was a small spool of twine and a sheet of magenta paper, matching the colour of the flower you held in your hand. You could feel bile rising in your throat as you moved. Disappointment and embarrassment heated your cheeks as you carefully wrapped the flowers in the paper, fingers carefully wrapping and rolling as you thought about everything except where these flowers were going. The twine grated against your fingers as you pulled it around the little makeshift bouquet, tying the whole thing together with a nice bow.

“What are you doing?” your head snapped around, meeting the eyes of your best friend who looked you up and down sceptically. You must’ve been quite the sight, kneeling down next to your bedside table, paper and string in hand. Pansy raised a single eyebrow as she made her way towards you, hands rubbing at her face tiredly.

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” but she wasn’t listening, rounding the corner of your bed Pasy huffed out a sigh when she saw the neatly tied bouquet sitting on the floor in front of you.

“Stupid fucking flowers,” she sat on top of your bed looking down at you “You shouldn’t have done that, Malfoy’s a big boy he can get his own flowers,” You opened your mouth to defend yourself but no words came out, instead you sat there gaping like a fish, knowing she was right. But Draco had asked you, what else could you have possibly done?

Draco had been going on and on about the flowers for weeks now, complaining that they were such a pain in the ass to get because they were so far away in the grounds and he always had Prefect duties to attend to. So being the dutiful little friend you were you had lied, and said you’d started taking morning walks and would love to grab them for him. You’d gotten a few weird looks from your friends, specifically Pansy who could tell you were up to something but Draco didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he hadn’t even questioned the fact that you never get up early. Instead, he thanked you with that cautious smile that always made your heart clench, told you where to find the flowers and when he needed them by. And you being the pathetic girl you were had smiled brightly back at him like he held the moon in his hands and you were a moth desperate to bask in its glow.

“This is a new low even for you,” Pansy groaned, kicking her legs back and forth as she spoke.

“I’m well aware of how stupid I must look,” you muttered under your breath as you got up, picking up the bouquet in your hand “but right now I have a job to do,” Pansy rolled her eyes behind you, her soft footsteps following close behind you.

“You need to stop letting him treat you like this,”

“He doesn’t treat me like anything,” the words were like ice on your tongue. You knew Draco would never see you as anything, not while she was there with him and how could you blame him, she was everything you were not but it still hurt. It always hurt. Sometimes you wished he’d just stop talking to you altogether at least then you would have that little kernel of hope that had craved its way into your heart and took root there. If he just ignored you then you

“Exactly,” Pansy grabbed your shoulder halting you before you could open the dorm door. “He doesn’t care about you, not like you care for him,” your eyes were downcast as she spoke to you. You knew what you’d see if you looked up. Pity. “You need to stop following him around like a fucking puppy,” Her hand tightened, rooting you to the spot. “Have some self-respect y/n,” oh. That hurt. Tears pricked at your eyes, the same ones that you’d been holding back for so long. Your chest clenched and you had to put all of your effort into not crumpling to the floor. You felt pathetic and you were sure you looked the same.

“I know,” your breathing was ragged as you spoke, the words tumbling out of your mouth like they were fighting to get out fast enough “I fucking know Pansy but I can’t, I don’t know what I’d do with myself without him,”

“This is just embarrassing,” Pansy spoke but her words weren’t harsh she just sounded tired. This was the exact same conversation they’d had every night after all. A single tear rolled down your cheek and dropped to the floor, dampening a small spot on the otherwise pristine carpet. Behind you, Pansy sighed, letting go of your shoulder. “Just go. Give him the damn flowers and go back to bed, I know that’s where you really want to be right now,” you actually laughed at that, the sound grating against your dry throat. She was right, you really wanted to go back to bed, in fact, you’d prefer to be just about anywhere else right now.

You wiped your tears away with your free hand as you made your way back down to the common room. A small part of you, somewhere deep inside wanted to get rid of the flower. Throw them on the floor and step on them, crush them under your feet so they could feel what you had felt while picking them. But the larger part of you knew that was stupid, nothing would change how he felt about you and nothing would change how he felt about her. Soft footsteps drew your attention up to the stairs and nothing could stop the slight smile that appeared on your face when you saw him. Draco grinned back at you as he descended, his pace quickening when he noticed the small bouquet in your hands. His smile stopped your heart in its tracks. You loved his smile, the real one that was joyful and showed that he could be more than the cold facade he paraded around. This smile was quiet and happy and reserved only for the people he cared about, you felt your mood automatically lift at the sight of it. It was a familiar feeling and you loved it. God, you needed to get a life.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” it was the first thing you could think of to say and it was true you really couldn’t believe that the great Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prince, my father will hear about this boy was giving flowers to someone. Draco rolled his eyes as he grabbed the bouquet from your hands.

“Don’t be a prat, I already feel stupid,” you forced a laugh out of your mouth, trying to make it seem as natural as possible. You silently fell into step beside Draco, the pair of you making your way out of the common room. You shivered as the cool air hit your arms through the thin material of your school shirt, mentally cursing yourself for not grabbing something when you were in the dorms.

“Idiot,” Draco muttered under his breath but you knew it was meant for you.

“What,” you exclaimed indignantly, nudging into his side.

“You always do this, leaving your school jumper in the dorm even if it’s cold cause it's itchy,” Draco raised a single eyebrow daring you to fight back but you both knew he was right. Instead, you stuck your tongue out at Draco, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continued walking. Draco threw his head back and laughed, the deep and rich noise that wrapped up around you and pushed all the cold away. It had taken you years to coax a real laugh out of him and now you revelled in every single one you could get. Before you could respond a fistful of fabric was pushed into your face and you stumbled backwards, steadying yourself.

“Wha- Hey, what was that for,”

“Take it with you,” Draco nodded towards the bundle of material in your hand, which you finally took note of. It was his jacket or something of the sort, you’d never seen him wear it before. It looked like one of the muggle jackets that some of the students wore around the grounds, you hadn’t realised Draco was into muggle fashion. “I figured you would need something to warm up,” It took everything in you to not start smiling like a crazy lady. Draco turned to the library door, which you’d just noticed you were standing in front of. You tried to ignore the hollow feeling creeping through your body as he slowly began to rock back and forward on his heels. You had been so absorbed in your little walk that you had almost forgotten you were playing wingman for the man you loved. Almost. You mumbled a small good luck under your breath before turning on your heel and heading back down the corridor towards your room.