#longbottom

(Neville x Reader)

You've always struggled to feel love because you were a slytherin, until the tri-wizard tournament. Neville was always around.

(Fluff? Romantic tension? strangers to friends to lovers? yule ball?)

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Bring a slytherin, you always had a bad reputation. Nobody seemed to like you, even growing up you were always bullied. You grew and learned to stand up for yourself. You always expected the worst from people.

One day, there was a new teacher. You walked by yourself to class like you did everyday. Jealously filled you body as you heard warm chatter and laughter in the halls that always seemed so cold and lonely, shivering at the voices around you. You walk into class and walk to the table you usally sat at.

These two other students were sitting there, for a moment you thought you were getting bullied so you let out a rude, "Excuse me." It was dry and rough.

"He assigned different seats, can't you read?" He said pointing at the board. You look up to read the board and the student was right, you look back to apologize but you see him and his friend laughing at you already. You roll your eyes and walk to your new seat.

Class had already begun and nobody sat in the seat next to you until the first three minutes of class goes by.

A boy with messy brown hair, green eyes, and bucked teeth sits next to you. He shakingly puts his bag down and sits down carefully, almost scared of you.

"h-hello." He pushes out stuttering. You already knew him, Neville Longbottom..

The clumsy and stuttery boy, he didn't have many friends but he was sweet to everyone, even you. You've never talked to him before, you were scared to have friends of yourself.

"hi." You say, dry and uninterested. You pretended not to care but you hold back your smile. You've never cared for Neville. As sweet as he was, even you thought he was a loser.

His head always in book but not any books.. herbology books. He was a nerd and not even you wanted to be seen like that.

Class goes by and he ends the class early after showing three forbidden curses. All the students are left in their seats uncomfortable.

"Wow.." Neville says, "That's.. that's something."

"Yeah.." you say chuckling back. It was rough to watch your teacher practically abuse a spider like creature. You take out work that needs to be finished in other classes and decide to do it.

Neville watched you and does the same. You notice every once in a while he would look over at your paper, you assumed he was copying and didn't say anything, you didn't care much to be honest.

"Do you need help?" He says in a low voice. You look up confused, why does he wanna help? You look back at your paper and see your doing herbology work.

You let out an accident chuckle and let out a breathy "yeah.."

You confused yourself. Yeah? When did you need help, help with herbology at that? You never struggled in any subject where you needed help. You wanted to say no but you saw the look in his eyes and how bright they were, you couldn't help but say yeah.

He tilts your paper towards him and reads it for a second. You can't help but watch him. His eyes scanning your paper, his hair falling on his eyes, his slight smile. You try to hide it but let out a slight smirk.

"Oh this is easy, in class she practically answered all of these."

He said still looking at the paper. The moved the paper towards you and gave you the answers, you were done is a minute.

"T-thank you." You say smiling. For the first time in a while, you felt happy about talking to one of your piers. He smiled at you and says "Your welcome." You saw his adorable buck teeth..

adorable? why did u call him adorable. that's weird.

"uh d-do you need um.. help with anything?" You say trying your best to seem confident. Something about not being rude was so odd.

"Actually, i don't get this potion work." He says going through his folder. You couldn't help but watch him again.

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Once you helped him with his work, the class was over. You pack your stuff and get ready to leave, as you get up, slightly upset that you would have to leave neville, a hand touches your shoulder hesitantly.

"Um, would u like to come study with me in the library later today? maybe round.. 5:00?"

You are stunned, looking at the shy boy look at your eyes then his feet as he asked you. You wastes to say no, but you couldn't help but say..

"Yeah.."

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You walk into the warm library that's lit with only candles, you're in an oversized sweater that is falling off half your shoulder and shorts that's are honestly too short for just going to the library. You see neville, fidgeting with his sweater vest before he looks up and sees you. He slimes and walks over.

"Hey, um.. wanna go over there, it's quieter?" He said pointing his head behind him. You nod and follow him.

It was quite chatty but not too noisy in the library. As you walk with neville you hear other people talking about it.

"What are they doing together?" "What is she gonna do to neville?" "should we watch?" "does he know he's being followed?"

You finally sit down next to neville in a far place. You are surrounded by books. You never cared to really look at the library but it was very pretty.

"Don't min them." Nevill says smiling, pulling a book out his book bag. You stare at him confused. "The people, sayin stuff. Just ignore them." He says moving his chair closer to yours.

You too move your chair accidentally bumping them together. You look at his face and notice his face was slightly pink, you didn't know if he always had that pink hue or if he was blushing. He opens his book at his book mark and leans in.

You smell him, you felt like a creep but you loved it. He smelt like vanilla with a hint of earthy tones, mainly wet dirty. You loved it though. It was fresh and lovely.

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You and him take notes out of the herbology book. Neville looks at your notes and stares at them for a bit. He grabs them and says, "Your handwriting is bloody beautiful.." He looks at you waiting for an answer. You can't help but smile and nod awkwardly looking the other way. "S-sorry for grabbing your notes." He says, you don't answer.

You hated how awkward you were, you never were really quiet and it bugged you. Neville closes the book while you were thinking causing you to look up at him. "Are you okay? You looked very zoned out. Wanna talk?" He says.

"um, nope. i-im okay." You say looking at the pencil sitting on the desk. "Let's have a break." Neville says. It was quite at first until he starts asking questions.

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You talked about your families, his friends. Past relationships, classes, and other stuff.

You learnt how his grandma treated him. She was harsh but had sweet words often praising him for stuff, if he didn't do something right, she would ignore him or tell him off in a rude way. He learnt you were just nervous about making a new friend a you weren't always quite.

After laughing and talking for an hour in a half, "Do you wanna go to hogmead with me, this weekend?"

Merlin, how was Neville Longbottom making you nervous, he as more confident then you and it scared you.

"Yeah, sure i would love too." You say smiling.

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That weekend you meet up, Neville was with some friends. You didn't want to go up until he saw you and walks up. It was cold and windy outside so you dressed in a long skirt and an oversized sweater. He puts a hand behind your back and looks to his three friends, "This is y/n!" He smiles and looks happy.

His friends on the other hand weren't smiling, Hermione walks up to you and shakes your hand.

You were quite the whole day only laughing quietly or whispering things to neville making his friends look at you weird.

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Going back to school Neville invited you to the gryffindor common room. You walk up with him and see how cozy it was compared to yours. It was nice and you sit next to him quietly as he talked to his friends the next of the night. Although you weren't talking, you lived just being near people. They weren't even laughing at you. You were thankful for Neville, he was so nice and even bought you a few small things.

They all one by one went to bed and it was just you and Neville. "Did.. did you have fun?" He says. You look into his green eyes with the fire crackling in the back. "Yeah, it was awesome." You said smiling.

You noticed Neville looked at your lips as you smiled and just stared at you.

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A month goes by and your best buds with Neville. More confident now, talking to Hermione, Ron, and Harry. You weren't best friends but you were able to talk now. You were happy at your improvement. Neville comes up to you. "I heard two schools were coming, something about a tri-wizard tournament?" "Oh yes, I've heard, i'm so excited!" You said smiling touching his arm.

People have noticed your sudden change in behavior in the last month. They've noticed how you smiled more and laughed more, and importantly, less alone. You were nicer and more considerate.

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You and Neville were in the library once more, something about the yule ball made you flustered. "Oh Neville i don't want to go alone.." You whined putting your head in your hands. He laughs at you and rubs your back, "Don worry love, i'm sure someone will ask you."

You already knew Neville had a slight crush on Ginny, you felt honestly pretty jealous. You didn't like anybody and knew nobody else and was hoping Neville would ask you. Neville had already planned on asking Ginny.

"Ughhhh Neville..." You whined as he laughed in your face. Usually you would feel offended but this time, it made you smile. His laughed brightened up your heart and always tugged a smile out of you. "It's okaaay, i'm sure someone with ask you."

"Nev, I don't talk to anybody else.." You looked at Neville through your eyelashes and pouted. You never acted like this before but with Neville you felt different. "Have hope y/n, trust me you're very beautiful."

Beautiful.. Woah. It made your heart flutter and cheeks fluster.

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The more you hung out with nev that week the more flustered you noticed you got. When he brushed your hand in potions, and he gilded your hands in herbology, and the way he laughed. It all made you blush. You noticed more and more throughout the week, he mentioned Ginny less. It was odd, a month ago he always fawned over her, saying her name and being over dramatic about every situation that involved him.

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In the Gryffindor common room you sat alone infront of the fire place, you held a book but didn't read it. You drifted off thinking about the yule ball.

A familiar voice called you..

"Y/n.."

It made u jump and snapped you out of your thinking and turn around. With wide eyes, nearly deer like you look at the voice behind you. There was Ron. Ronald Weasley. He looked at your eyes and looked down, he played with his fingers. It was only you guys in the warm common room. The two friends he had were nowhere to be found and Neville had gone to his dorm to find cards for you guys to play.

"um.. i was wondering, w-would you go to the yule ball with me." He was shy and his eyes flickered between your eyes and the floor. You weren't really friends with Ron and it shocked you, did he like you? If so for how long? Is he asking just because your the last choice? Are his friends going to pop out and laugh at you?

You doubt it, the way he looked, very nervous and sweaty.

"So what you say?" Ron said chuckling nervously finally being able to hold eye contact.

"yeah.. sure." You said breathlessly, you waiting to be made the punchline of the joke but instead you watched his eyes light up. "Really? Thank you y/n. I'm very excited to go.. with you." He walked away up the stairs stiff, you can't help but laugh at his nervousness. As you watch him go up, Neville comes down.

He walks up to you and sits down right next to you, "What happened?" He asked looking back at the stairs.

"Ron Weasley asked me to the yule ball." You said chuckling and rolling your eyes smiling looking back at your book pages, flipping the page you 100% didn't read.

He laughed, "He's a sweet guy, maybe somebody will say yes." Neville said taking the cards out of the package getting ready to shuffle them.

You look at Neville confused, "I said yes." You looked at him and see his smile drop just a bit and looked up, "Oh.. seriously?" He tilted his head once more, he didn't believe you.

You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows. "He's nice to me, and he's cute. Like you sad yourself he's a sweet guy." You shrugged and looked back at your book. Nevill moved uncomfortably in his seat and shuffled the cards almost ignoring the words that seemed to bother him.

"Did you really say yeah?" He asked again looking at you frowning.

"Yes Neville. Is there anything wrong with me going with Ron Weasley?" You raised your voice a bit to show him he's upsetting you. You didn't know what Nev meant.

Neville started at you quietly, his eyes widened just a little bit with a frown on his face and tilted eyebrows.

He looks at his cards in his hand and fiddles with them, "I-i wanted to ask you. I was going to ask tonight.." He hands you a card in the deck that reads, "Will you go to the yule ball with me y/n" with a little heart at the end near your name.

You stare at the card you took from his hand and can't help but feel like you made a mistake. Even though Ron was cute, you liked Nev more..

You guys say in silence and you manage to mumble out "oh neville.." you looked up from the card and make eye contact with him. "i'm sorry, i didn't know." You say.

"Don't worry, if u didn't want to go that's okay, um i-i'll ask ginny then.." He looked down at his feet and seemed genuinely upset.

Seeing Neville sad, because of you, a discussion you made, you felt bad and can't help to lean into him and hug him.

He wraps an arm around your waist leaning onto your shoulder. Even thought he's taller, he rest on you and melts into you as he brings his other arm to your waist hugging you fully, pulling you onto him.

"I-im sorry.." Nevill says. "For what?"

He gets off of you and looks at your eyes, "I shouldn't have waited this long, i wanted to tell you how long i've liked you but.. i thought you would get uncomfortable."

"What.. i thought you liked Ginny?" You felt confused as you hand rested on the back of his head playing with his choppy hair.

"She's pretty but i just wanted To make you feel jealous so you asked me instead.."

"You're so dumb." You laughed at him softly with an even softer smile and rest a hand on his chest.

"Neville, i've liked you too, for a long time." You confess to him, making your face pink, a softer pink than his. Nev's face was nearly red.

"S-so will you go to the yule ball with me?.." He said stuttering and hopeful, leaning into you an upright.

"I'll have the break the news to Ron but yes i will." You smile at him making him hug you immediately.

"T-thank you y/n.. You mean so much to me."

You push him back and held his face. His face looks to flushed and his eyes look teary, almost crying. You can't help yourself and lean into his face. Placing a soft kiss on his cheek then his mouth.

He leans into the kiss, he seemed to love to lean into you. You guys melted into one. His soft and chapped lips fit perfectly with yours. He breaks the kiss and whispers, "Thank you so much."

You open your eyes at the stomach fluttering words and see him looking at you with tears forming.

Severus mentoring/raising Neville AFTER the Hogwarts sha angle.

Neville should already be in his class.

(Neville Longbottom x fem¡OCLestrange)

introduction: Morwenna Evangelinne Lestrange was born on October 31, 1980, on a dark and stormy night that seemed to foreshadow her destiny. Daughter of the feared marriage of Death Eaters Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange, her arrival into the world was marked by the echo of dark magic and power.

Barely a year after her birth, her parents were arrested and imprisoned in Azkaban for their active involvement in the First Wizarding War. They were loyal accomplices of Lord Voldemort, committing acts of unspeakable cruelty. With her parents behind bars, the guardianship of Morwenna fell to her aunt Narcisa Malfoy, who had also given birth to a son that same year. Thus, Gelinne and her cousin Draco were raised together in the opulent Malfoy Manor, under the strict supervision of Lucius.

From an early age, Gelinne was taught the most elegant and refined manners. Lucius Malfoy insisted that, as a pureblood, she must maintain an impeccable appearance and impeccable conduct. Morwenna’s education was rigorous, designed to instill in her the values and superiority of her lineage.

Over the years, Gelinne grew up alongside Draco, sharing not only their education but also the ignorance of her parents’ crimes. She knew of them only by their names and their portraits, imposing and mysterious figures that adorned the walls of the manor.

Finally, the anticipated moment came to attend the prestigious school of magic, Hogwarts. Alongside her cousin Draco, Morwenna quickly earned the respect of her fellow Slytherins and other students, thanks to her distinguished bearing and innate magical ability.

warnings: It mentions torture, death, bullying, abuse, evil, distress…

words: 2k

a/n: it’s a bit of an introduction, sorry, the good stuff is coming, i promise.

my main language is not English.

masterlist previous chapt. next

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Chapter two: Gurdyroot

Morwenna tried to push her thoughts aside as she recalled how her aunt, Andromeda, had reluctantly agreed to let her spend a week at Malfoy Manor. It had all been Draco’s idea, presented as a chance for them to get to know each other better. Yet, something in Andromeda’s gaze when she gave her consent unsettled Morwenna. It was as if her aunt knew something she wasn’t privy to.

Now, sitting in the Hogwarts Express compartment with Draco, Morwenna watched the blurred scenery rushing past the window. The journey back to the station was steeped in an odd silence. Draco, his nearly white blonde hair perfectly styled and his demeanor as arrogant as ever, seemed lost in his own thoughts—or at least pretended to be.

The compartment wasn’t empty. Across from them sat three house-elves sent to escort them. Each one looked more unpleasant than the last, with long ears and grayish skin that gave them an eerie, nightmare-like appearance. One of them kept coughing in a grating, raspy way, another scratched its arm incessantly with twisted nails, and the smallest of the three was so jittery it couldn’t keep its eyes fixed on anything.

Morwenna tried not to stare, but their presence made the already tense atmosphere feel even heavier. She shifted her focus to Draco, hoping he’d say something—anything—to break the oppressive silence. But he merely crossed his arms and stared out the window, his expression of boredom perfectly practiced.

When the train finally arrived at the station, they disembarked slowly, followed by the house-elves lugging their trunks and bags. Waiting for them was a black carriage pulled by Thestrals, shrouded in a mist that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Though they couldn’t see the creatures pulling it, Morwenna shivered at the hollow sound of hooves on stone and the faint rustling of wings that dissipated into the breeze.

The ride in the carriage was as quiet as the train ride had been. The house-elves were crammed into a corner, muttering in a language she couldn’t understand, while Draco lounged back, exuding nonchalance with a calculating glint in his gray eyes. Morwenna clung to the window, her gaze fixed on the darkened landscape as she tried to steady the whirlwind of thoughts crowding her mind.

There was something unsettling about the idea of spending a week at Malfoy Manor, an unease she couldn’t quite name but felt like a shadow lurking at the edges of her consciousness.

When they arrived at their destination, the house-elves began unloading everything with astonishing speed. With a simple snap of their fingers, the enormous black carriage that had brought them shrank instantly, transforming into a small, delicate object that looked like an intricate toy. Morwenna watched in fascination as a hand, gloved in fine black leather, reached forward to pick it up with precision. The hand belonged to a tall, slender man whose platinum blond hair was perfectly slicked back.

He took the tiny carriage and, without a word, slipped it into the deep pocket of an impeccably tailored black jacket that looked as expensive as it was intimidating. His entire figure radiated a blend of elegance and coldness that was hard to ignore. When Morwenna looked up at his face, she was met with an ironic, slightly forced smile. There was something in his gaze that unsettled her—a calculating scrutiny, as though he were measuring every detail about her in mere seconds.

Beside him, in stark contrast, stood a woman of refined beauty. Her golden blonde hair, sleek and styled to perfection, cascaded in soft waves that framed her pale face. Her piercing light eyes held a glimmer of unexpected kindness, softening her expression. This was, undoubtedly, Narcissa Malfoy—the aunt Andromeda had mentioned so often.

“Welcome, Morwenna,” Narcissa said with a warm smile, stepping forward to greet her. Her voice was gentle and melodic, but carried an undeniable air of authority that didn’t need to be asserted.

Morwenna, still slightly thrown off by the impression the man—who she guessed must be Lucius Malfoy—had made on her, inclined her head slightly in greeting, trying to recall the lessons on decorum her Aunt Andromeda had always emphasized.

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy,” she replied politely, though her tone carried a mix of curiosity and caution.

Lucius said nothing at first, merely observing her with his distant and calculating air. At last, he gave a slight nod before turning his attention to Draco, who stood off to the side with his arms crossed, acting as though the entire scene was beneath his notice.

“I trust our guest knows how to conduct herself in a manner befitting her name,” Lucius said in a low, silky voice laced with implicit venom.

Morwenna felt a shiver run down her spine, but before she could reply, Narcissa placed a hand on her husband’s arm, a silent gesture that seemed to calm him without words.

“Come, dear,” Narcissa said gently, ignoring Lucius’s remark. “Let’s go inside. I’m sure the journey has been exhausting, and everything is ready to make you feel at home.”

Morwenna nodded, though something in the air—or perhaps in the way Lucius looked at her—made it clear that the days ahead in Malfoy Manor would be far from peaceful.

In truth, Morwenna’s presence at Malfoy Manor had not been Draco’s whim, but Lucius’s design. The patriarch of the Malfoy family deemed it crucial that the young Lestrange understand her roots, her lineage, and most importantly, the power she was destined to claim as a descendant of one of the most illustrious and feared magical families. For Lucius, this visit was the perfect opportunity to mold her, to draw her closer to the Dark Arts, as he had already done with his own son.

After settling into one of the mansion’s grand bedrooms—adorned with green velvet curtains and intricately carved dark wood furniture—Morwenna decided to explore. The hallways seemed endless, every corner cloaked in mystery. Portraits followed her with their eyes, chandeliers cast dancing shadows, and glass cases held magical artifacts that seemed to whisper secrets to anyone who dared to get too close.

As she wandered, nearly lost, a soft, hurried sound made her pause. Suddenly, a house-elf appeared before her, as if it had materialized from the shadows. Small, gray-skinned, and sharp-eared, the elf looked agitated, its expression a mix of nervousness and urgency.

“Miss Lestrange, Miss Lestrange!” it stammered in a high-pitched, melodic voice, its eyes darting about as though it feared being seen.

Morwenna frowned, intrigued. “What is it? Why the rush?” she asked, leaning slightly toward the elf to hear better.

The tiny creature opened its mouth as if about to confess something, but just as it was on the verge of speaking, a chill ran down Morwenna’s spine. A cold hand settled on her shoulder, startling her. The elf jumped and stumbled back several steps, nearly tripping in the process.

“It’s time for dinner,” came the icy, calculated voice of Lucius Malfoy. His tone brooked no argument, and though his face bore a smile, it didn’t reach his eyes.

Morwenna turned her head to look at him, her heart racing. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at her, as if he knew exactly what was happening and had taken pleasure in disrupting it.

The elf, terrified, gave a clumsy bow before vanishing in the blink of an eye, leaving Morwenna alone with Lucius.

“Come along, dear,” he said with a disturbing softness, his hand remaining on her shoulder as he guided her down the hallway toward the dining room. “We wouldn’t want dinner to get cold. And remember, this is your home too… at least while you’re here.”

Morwenna nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling heavily on her as they walked.

A few seemingly quiet days passed, though the atmosphere in Malfoy Manor remained tense and cold, as if every word and gesture were carefully calculated. Morwenna couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider, watched closely by everyone—especially Lucius, whose presence was as imposing as it was unsettling.

The next day, Lucius and Narcissa decided to take her to visit several properties belonging to the Black family. The estates were grand, steeped in history that seemed to cling to the marble floors, the tapestry-covered walls, and the towering windows that let in only the faintest light.

In one of the houses, Narcissa led her to a room that felt like a mausoleum of lineage and pride. One entire wall was taken up by an enormous family tree painted with meticulous detail. The names of the Black family members shimmered in golden script under the soft glow of floating lamps.

“This is our legacy, Morwenna,” Narcissa said softly, gesturing to the tree. “Here lie our roots, our triumphs, and… our betrayals.”

Her finger paused at a specific point where a name had been burned away, leaving a charred void. Morwenna frowned, immediately recognizing where her Aunt Andromeda’s name should have been.

“Andromeda…” she murmured, almost to herself.

“She was a mistake,” Narcissa said, her voice laced with barely restrained disapproval. “She turned her back on her lineage and married a Mudblood. That’s what happens when one forgets who they are and where they come from.”

Morwenna didn’t respond, her gaze following the tree’s branches. She scanned the unfamiliar names until her eyes landed on two she knew all too well: her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, and her father, Rodolphus.

She stepped closer, studying the portraits cautiously. Though stylized in the tree’s artistic design, the faces of her parents seemed to burn with a strange intensity. Their gazes, even painted, unsettled her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

Slowly, she reached out toward her mother’s face, as if searching for some connection in the cold, painted surface. Her fingertips hovered inches away when a voice broke through her thoughts.

“Morwenna,” Narcissa called, her tone firm but not harsh, a warning wrapped in gentleness. Startled, Morwenna pulled her hand back, turning quickly to face her aunt. “It’s easy to get lost in memories of the past,” Narcissa said, stepping closer. “But remember, the past doesn’t always hold the answers you’re looking for. Sometimes, looking back too much can be dangerous.”

The days passed in an uneasy stillness, the tension within Malfoy Manor palpable, as if the walls themselves bristled with secrets. Morwenna had grown accustomed to the cold glances and measured words, but today, in front of the Black family tree, the weight of her ancestry pressed down on her more heavily than ever.

She stared at the charred void where Andromeda’s name had been obliterated, her thoughts tangled in questions she couldn’t yet ask. Narcissa’s words, spoken with calm authority, still hung in the air, wrapping around her like a cold mist. Unable to bear the silence any longer, she finally spoke.

“I… I don’t understand, Aunt Narcissa,” Morwenna said softly, her gaze still fixed on her mother’s name. “I don’t know anything about my mother. Andromeda never told me much… only that she died in the Wizarding War.”

At this, Narcissa froze. Her usually composed expression faltered, her eyes widening slightly in shock before narrowing with a mixture of disdain and disbelief. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice low but sharp, each word clipped with irritation.

Morwenna shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her aunt’s scrutiny. “Andromeda told me my parents died in the war,” she repeated, though the words sounded less certain now, as if cracks were forming in the foundation of what she thought she knew.

“Died in the war?” Narcissa repeated, her voice dripping with contempt. A bitter, humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Of course, Andromeda would say that. She always did have a talent for twisting the truth to suit her whims.”

Morwenna’s heart quickened. “So… it’s not true?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the first threads of doubt unraveling her carefully constructed understanding.

Narcissa sighed, long and deliberate, as though preparing herself to shatter the fragile lie. She stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Morwenna’s shoulder, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“No, Morwenna,” she said with a cold finality, her words as sharp as a blade. “It’s not true. Your parents, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, are not dead. They’re alive… though they might wish they weren’t. They’re in Azkaban.”

The name struck like a thunderclap. Azkaban. Morwenna’s legs felt weak, her breath shallow. “Azkaban?” she echoed, her voice trembling. “Why… why are they there? What did they do?”

Narcissa’s expression hardened, pride flickering in her ice-blue eyes. “They were loyal servants of the Dark Lord—of Lord Voldemort,” she said, her tone reverent yet unyielding. “They fought for him, sacrificed for him. And when he fell, they didn’t waver. Your parents, along with a few others, sought vengeance. They captured the Longbottoms—Dumbledore’s allies—and used the Cruciatus Curse to extract information about his whereabouts.”

The words sent a chill through Morwenna’s body. Her mind flashed back to Neville Longbottom, his voice trembling with fury in the Great Hall: “Your parents tortured mine!” It had been a dagger then, but now the truth plunged deeper, the wound raw and bleeding.

“And… and that’s why they’re in Azkaban?” she managed to ask, her voice barely audible.

“For that, and because they refused to betray their ideals,” Narcissa replied, her voice steady, almost admiring. “Your parents believed in the purity of magic, in the greatness of their cause. And they never repented. Not once. Bellatrix, especially, was… indomitable.”

Morwenna stood rooted to the spot, her emotions swirling—fear, confusion, and something unnameable, a strange pride she couldn’t fully understand or accept.

“That’s why I’m so astonished, Morwenna,” Narcissa continued, her gaze piercing. “Andromeda hid all of this from you. Perhaps she wanted to protect you from the truth, or perhaps she’s ashamed of our family. But I won’t do the same. You’re a Lestrange, and you deserve to know who your parents were and what they stood for.”

Morwenna looked up, her thoughts spinning in chaotic loops. “Do you think I should… know more about them?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course you should,” Narcissa said firmly, stepping closer. “You carry the blood of the Blacks and the Lestranges in your veins. That’s not just blood, Morwenna—it’s power, history, legacy. And while Andromeda may have tried to erase that part of you, it’s time for you to claim it.”

Morwenna remained silent, her mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. Deep within her, a seed of curiosity—and something darker—began to sprout. Narcissa’s words resonated, undeniable in their truth. It was time to uncover the past, to understand who she truly was… even if that truth could change everything.

The sound of Narcissa’s heels echoed through the silent mansion, marking the steps of her elegant and cold figure as she approached the sofa where Lucius Malfoy rested, in an equally tense posture. The wine glass in his hand made a faint tinkling sound as she sat on the armrest of the sofa, her proximity to her husband almost perfect, as if in that physical space there also resided an emotional disconnect.

“Have you spoken to her about that?” Lucius’s voice cut through the air, low and controlled, as always. His eyes gleamed with an icy intensity as he took a sip of his wine, waiting for Narcissa’s response. The question needed no clarification; they both knew what he was referring to.

Narcissa looked at him for a moment, her face set in a serene yet calculating expression. For a second, her blue eyes softened, showing a hint of concern that only a keen observer could detect.

“Yes,” she answered calmly. “Morwenna knows the truth about her parents. At least, what she needs to know… though she doesn’t fully understand it.”

Lucius studied her for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the glass, as though he were contemplating the implications of her words. “And what do you hope to achieve with that?” he asked at last, his tone tinged with a cold curiosity. “Do you expect her to align with our ideals, as her mother and father did? Or do you want her to become a tool for a greater purpose?”

Narcissa let out a small smile, which did little to ease the tension between them. “Morwenna has her own path to follow, Lucius. I’m not trying to force her into anything. But it’s clear she can’t continue living in ignorance, as Andromeda has kept her. She’s a Lestrange, and it’s time she understood what it really means to be one.”

Lucius nodded slowly, but his gaze never lost that calculating coldness that characterized him. “We must ensure she’s not a weakness, Narcissa. A weak piece in a game that no longer has room for mistakes.”

Narcissa looked at her husband for a moment, her eyes glimmering with a mix of love and disdain. “She won’t be,” she said firmly, assuring that Morwenna would not fall into the shadows of ignorance, but without revealing all the nuances of her own thoughts.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and palpable, as both of them lost themselves in their own reflections. Morwenna, in her distant room, remained unaware of the conversation, immersed in the echoes of the day’s revelations. In the distance, the wind hit the windows of the mansion, making the cold night feel even darker.

tags:

(If you don’t want me to tag you, let me know, and if it’s the opposite, let me know as well)

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns)

request: Hello! I'd love to order from you, Neville x female reader. Reader is Snape's goddaughter, reader's parents trust Snape a lot so they made him reader's godfather and he can watch her almost ALL the time at school. Reader and Neville become boyfriend and girlfriend (THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH), you know, reader is extremely affectionate with Neville even in public, hugging him, wanting to kiss him every so often and although it's nice to have his bubble of love, it also gives Neville some fear since he feels Snape's murderous gaze on himself every time his girlfriend wants to express her love xD Snape would be like a jealous father and Neville the son-in-law afraid that Snape would poison him

warnings: yule ball is in fifth year instead of fourth, snape being snape

note: i've been WAITING for someone to send me a neville request, he deserves all the love in the world <3

your parents trusted your uncle severus a whole lot, and part of you believed most of that trust stemmed from the fact that he works at hogwarts and is able to keep a watchful eye on you.

they, as in your parents, have never denied your suspicions, but simply respond with, "uncle severus has shown how much he cares for you, and being a professor at your school is just a bonus."

oh, it was indeed a bonus. but at times it was as if you were suffocating.