#potter reader

Y/N wasn’t quite sure when it happened. Maybe it was before second year when they came to bust her and Harry out of their aunts house. Maybe it was third year when they gave her and her brother the map to get to Hogsmeade. Whenever it had started, she couldn’t put a finger on it. All she knew was that she had an utterly helpless crush on her friend’s older brother. 

“What are we going to do now?” Y/N asked Harry as the two headed to the second floor where Mrs. Weasley had told them Ron was waiting. 

“I haven’t gotten that far.” Harry mumbled back. 

“If they don’t believe Voldemort’s back, then there are definitely going to be consequences.” The slightly older girl stated to her brother. 

Harry didn’t reply, instead pushed open the door to the room where Molly had told the two to wait. “Harry, Y/N!” The twins were immediately wrapped in a hug by their friend. Y/N wrapped her arms around Hermione to return the hug. “Are you alright? We heard them talking about a dementor attack.” 

“Let them breathe, Hermione.” Ron spoke up once the Potter’s shut the door.

“The hearing, It’s outrageous. I’ve looked into it and they simply cannot expel you two. It’s unfair!” 

“There’s a lot going on in our lives.” Y/N spoke up as she walked forward and sat down on the bed that Hermione was previously waiting on. “Lucky for me I wasn’t there with Harry and Dudley when the Dementors showed up.” 

Y/N hated that her brother was under the heat of the ministry, but she was beyond happy she had stayed in the house that day. Simply because her anxiety would not be able to handle the thought of never returning to school with her friends. 

“Theres definitely a lot going on at them moment. So, what is this place?” The younger Potter asked as he glanced around the room. 

“It’s headquarters.” Ron replied. 

“Of the Order of the Phoenix. It’s a secret society. Dumbledore founded it back when they first fought you-know-who.” Hermione explained to the twins. 

Y/N let out a huff looking at two of her friends, “This would’ve been nice to know. Instead you’ve left us with our aunt and uncle who despise us.” She muttered crossing her arms. 

“Y/N’s right. You couldn’t have told us with a letter or anything?” Harry asked the two friends. 

Ron sighed giving Harry an apologetic glance, “We wanted to write, mate, we did but-“ 

“Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you two anything.” Hermione explained. 

“Dumbledore said that? Why would he want to keep us in the dark? Maybe we could help. After all, We’re the ones who saw Voldemort return, we’re the ones who fought him.” Harry explained his annoyance showing through. 

“We’re the ones who saw Cedric Diggory get killed.” Y/N mumbled adding on to Harry’s rant with the sight that still haunts her. She would never let on like it did, but the thought of the death eater placing her and Harry’s name in the cup makes her anxious knowing what their magic could work around. 

She was knocked out of her thoughts to the appearance of the Weasley Twins popping up beside her. She jumped a bit at first, startled since she was distracted. “Harry, Y/N.” Fred Greeted. 

“Thought we heard your dulcet tones.” George joked as he sat himself on the bed beside of Y/N who gave the twins a knowing look. 

Fred kept his gaze on the youngest Potter, “Don’t bottle it up, mate. Let it out.” He encouraged jokingly. 

“Anyway, if you’re all done shouting-.” 

“Do you want to hear something a little more interesting?” Fred gave the group a mischievous look. 

The twins held up an ear that had a a string attached to it and then another ear. One of the things that could allow others to eavesdrop on conversations. The group then went and huddled around the stairs so they could hear what the order was saying. “If anyone has the right to know it’s Harry and Y/N. If it was’t for them we wouldn’t even know that Voldemort was back.” The voice of Sirius could be heard through the ear that Fred was holding. “They’re not babies, Molly.” 

The Potter Twins looked at each other knowing that their Godfather was more than willing to give them the information about the Dark Lord. Y/N would like to have stayed in the dark if her and her brother weren’t the ones who were in the middle. She would have rather have the adults listen to Mrs. Weasley, but that couldn’t be because she and her brother were the ones to witness his return and to see him. 

“They’re not adults either!” Molly argued with Sirius. “They’re not James and Lily, Sirius.” 

“They’re not your children.” Sirius retaliated to, who the group assumed, was Mrs. Weasley. 

Molly huffed, “They might as well be.” 

The oldest Potter scooted herself a bit closer to George, seeing as she was standing in between the twins,  to make room for the youngest Weasley when we got to the group. Y/N gave the girl a slight smile as a greeting while Harry greeted Ginny with a simple “Hey, Ginny.” The group kept on listening in. Hearing Sirius and the order go back and forth with each other before Snape’s voice could be heard. 

It was a surprise to Y/N to hear the voice of Snape, but she wasn’t against the idea. After all, Gryffindor’s had issues with him, but she seemed to be an exception. Maybe it was because she looked more like her mother than Harry, or maybe it was simply because she wasn’t as outgoing as other Gryffindors. Whatever the matter, she wasn’t complaining that he never gave her a hard time in class. 

Their listening was cut short once Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, started playing with the ear. Which led to the cat tearing the ear off the listening device. Hermione and Ron bickered a bit about the cat as the group dispersed in the Black household, waiting for the order meeting to conclude. 

“Hey, Y/N.” The voice of George Weasley spoke up as everyone went their separate ways. Fred was off, probably angry over the cat, and the rest of the group had went back in the room that they had met in. The oldest Potter turned to face him and gave him a slight smile to let him know that she was listening. “Are you alright?” He asked carefully, softly, like he knew deep down the secrets she hid. 

She nodded, “As good as one can be.” She replied. Her mind flashing back to when her and Harry had almost gotten in trouble for their names in the goblet, then the tasks, and finally, the maze which led to the graveyard. She pulled herself out of her thoughts before revealing herself to the one in front of her. “Not everyday you try to get killed by an infamous dark wizard.” She tried joking, hoping it would hide her inner thoughts and feelings. 

George let a weak smile show up on his face, one that doesn’t appear very often. “Do me a favor, yeah? Don’t hide how you’re feeling.” He whispered to the girl so no one could eavesdrop even if they wanted to. “It’ll all bottle up ’til the top explodes.” With that he gave one last saddened smile before turning to make his way to his own twin brother. 

Y/N stood there for a moment, her cheeks slightly flamed. She hoped there was no color on her face at all and it was just her feelings. She knew that he was talking about her emotions and feelings from the twi-wizard tournament and everything. He was definitely not talking about her crush on him, but little did he know, she made herself have plenty to deal with. “Hey George,” She called before he went to enter the room. The ginger turned to face her, awaiting what she was wanting. “Thank you.” 

The eerie darkness from Grimmauld’s place didn’t help the nightmares that the girl had been having. Everyone was asleep, the house, quiet and dark. It matched how she felt if she were honest. It felt lonely, the same inner feelings she tended to carry. She knew no one made her feel like that on purpose. It was complicated, everyone being friends with her twin, Ron being the slightly awkward one around girls, Hermione obviously having a crush on Ron, and Ginny having a thing for Harry. Whether the two other girls in their friend group would admit to their crushes, it was obvious, at least to oldest Potter. She tended to feel like the fourth wheel most of the time. Something she would never tell anyone. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” A voice came from the shadows breaking the girl out of her thoughts. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The warmth creeping up her neck was enough. 

She shrugged at his question, “I slept a bit…” she mumbled pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Sometimes my mind won’t shut off.” she added to help him understand. 

“Do you mind if I-“ He started softly, pointing to the spot on the sofa beside of her. She shook her head and patted the spot to let him know that he was welcome to join her if he really wanted to. “A lot to take in, isn’t it?” He asked whilst getting comfortable. 

Y/N let out a sigh, “I hated my life before finding out about Hogwarts, but part of me wonders if it would’ve been for the better.” She mumbled. A thought she had before but she was too scared to admit it. She knew George wouldn’t speak of it again though, which is why she laid it out on the table. The older boy opened his mouth to speak but closed it, not exactly knowing how to respond. “I know, not very Gryffindor of me.” She added fixing the way she was sitting. 

It was true. She sometimes thought that the sorting hat made a mistake. The hat decided in no time that she was to be placed in Gryffindor, but she wondered if she would’ve fit better as a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. It would make sense, with her not really liking the idea of going against Voldemort. When it’s all said and done, who would want to go against the ‘Dark Lord’ anyway. Y/N didn’t view herself as brave, courageous, or noble; but she could see how she may fit seeing as she is often very determined and can be quite, daring, when given the opportunity. 

“Anyone would be nervous to be where you are.” George replied in hopes of making the girl feel better. Before tonight, the two were familiar. They spoke sometimes and held brief conversations. But they never had quiet, soft, deep, meaningful conversations. The kind that Fred would make fun of his twin for having, or the ones that would make Ron disgusted for his friend having with his brother. Truth be known, Y/N never opened up to anyone much. Not even her own brother… her own twin. “No one wants to go up against… Voldemort. That’s why the ministry is denying his return.” 

She knew he was right. The ministry wanted her, Harry, and Dumbledore to be lying in hopes of nothing happening. No matter what they wanted though, the dark wizard was back and people needed to prepare. He wanted to take over the wizard world when they were babies, and his motive definitely hasn’t changed any. “I’ve been having nightmares.” She admitted to the younger Weasley twin. A small flush forming where she didn’t want to admit it to him but she wanted to tell someone. “Since I saw Cedric die… since I witnessed him come back.” She murmured her eyes closing for a moment. Usually she could get through anything but this time it was different. That one event changed everything in her life and everyone else’s in the wizard world, whether they knew it yet to not. 

George didn’t say anything at first. He just kept his attention on the girl beside of him to register her emotions. “You’re not going mad if that’s what you’re thinking.” He spoke softly noticing the way her facial expressions changed. “You went through a traumatic event, if anything you’re too normal.” 

She let out a small laugh at that, “too normal, huh?” 

George’s eyes widen slightly at how mean that sounded when she said it out loud, “not in a bad way… just considering what you’ve been through.” 

“On that comment, I should probably try to go to bed.” She teased a bit fighting back a yawn as she stood up and stretched. “Thank you… again.” She added softly and sending him a smile as she headed towards the creaky stairs. 

“Hey, uh, Y/N.” George called softly and low enough to not bother anyone but to get the girl’s attention. “If you ever need someone to listen…” he trailed off hoping she would get what he was trying to say. 

The smile on her face turned a bit shy at what he was getting at, “Thank you, George.” She told him yet again. “Really.” With that she turned and went up the stairs in the room that her and Hermione were sharing.

Y/N was hoping that being back at Hogwarts would ease her mind and help her relax a bit. That wasn’t happening, at least what she could tell. She wasn’t sure if it was the information Harry had given her about the trial or if it was everything that was looming around. The stares her and Harry were receiving around the castle weren’t helping either, if anything they were adding to everything she was dealing with. 

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked noticing Y/N glancing at a couple Slytherin boys who were pointing and whispering about her and Harry. Upon hearing Hermione she turned her attention back to the Gryffindor table to notice George waiting for a response. 

Her eyes flitted over to Hermione before nodding, “Oh… yeah.” She lied plastering a fake smile on her face. “Slytherins are… Slytherins.” She mumbled. Her gaze moving down to her plate of food. Feeling like there was a hole burning through her face, she lifted her gaze and met George’s questioning one. Him giving her a knowing look like he could read her. 

Luckily, before he could speak up Dumbledore stood up to start the announcements. “Good evening, children. We have two changes in staffing this year. We’re pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking care of Magical Creatures while Hagrid is on temporary leave. We also wish to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Delores Umbridge. I’m sure you all will join me in wishing the professor good luck.” Before Dumbledore could go on with his announcements the woman dressed in all pink walked up and stood in front of Dumbledore’s podium. 

“She was at my hearing. She works for Fudge.” Harry leaned over and whispered to Y/N, Ron, and Hermione. 

The moment her voice opened, Y/n cringed. The fake sickly sweet tone made her want to gag and shiver at the same time. “Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. How lovely to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me. I’m sure we’re all going to be very good friends.” 

“That’s likely.” Fred and George mumbled while the ministry woman kept talking. 

Umbridge kept talking for a little bit longer, but Y/N zoned it out knowing that the real issues had just began. Something about the woman talking rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that she works for the ministry… or maybe the woman was pure evil. Whatever the reason, she was sure that it would all be out in the open soon. 

After dinner was done, the whispers in the castle seem to get louder. Probably because most of the students were heading to their common rooms and it was crowded trying to leave the great hall. Y/N had slowed her walk, wanting to get to the back to stay away from the drama and people whispering about the Potter Twins. When she walked into the common room she came across harry and Seamus having a fight. 

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that.” Seamus told the youngest Potter when Y/N entered the common room. 

“I’ll have a go at anyone who calls me or Y/n a liar.” Harry argued back. 

“Harry, it isn’t worth it.” Y/N whispered as she walked up to her younger brother. “Leave it be.” She urged with pleading eyes. 

“What’s going on?” Ron asked once he got in and noticed the twins whispering to each other and everyone just staring. 

“They’ve gone mad is what’s going on. Do you really believe the rubbish they’ve come out with about you-know-who?” 

Y/N stepped around Harry to head to her dorm, there was no way she was going to be in the middle of a fight. Especially not this soon. “Hey Seamus!’ She called with a little mocking tone in her voice. “If we’re lying… how about you say his name?” Y/N taunted before turning around and jogging up to her dorm. Could she have come up with a better come back? Probably, if she wasn’t exhausted. All she wanted to do was lay down and try her best to get some rest before classes began in the morning. 

“Oi! Y/N.” Fred Weasley’s voice spoke up as Y/n entered the common room after running to the prefect’s bathroom after her first detention with Umbridge. Defending her brother always seemed to get her in some sort of trouble. “Can I interest you in puking pastilles, free of charge of course.” He offered holding the skiving box out towards the girl. 

“Not now, Fred.” She brushed off, gently shoving the box away with her good hand and pushing back towards the older Weasley twin. She would have felt bad if she wasn’t exhausted, in pain, and in a bad mood currently. 

“Are you alright?” George asked taking in her demeanor and body language. It was clear to anyone that you weren’t alright. The Potter twins were the talk of the school, that the two were going crazy and trying to cope with Cedric’s death. The nightmares were still occurring except, Voldemort’s voice was becoming blatantly obvious in the dreams making her afraid to sleep. 

Y/N huffed, “Would everyone stop asking me if I’m alright?” She snapped loud enough for the whole common room to hear her. All eyes turned to the area of the room she was at with the twins and Gryffindor kids who were buying things off the Weasley twins. “I can’t do this right now.” She muttered as everyone’s eyes stayed on her. She grabbed her bag strap until her knuckles turned white and headed back out of the common room and towards the library. She needed time away to breathe. 

Getting to the library through the whispers, teases, and jokes was a nightmare. At least for Y/n whose social fuel was running on empty. The year had just started and she was already excited for the year to be over. She didn’t want to be back home with the Dursley’s but it would beat having to be talked about at every corner here. 

In the corner of the library, her bag laid on the table. Not one book on the desk as she glared at her injured hand. Harry’s hand was bad too, but he didn’t do as many sentences. Mainly because Y/N was petty and didn’t want to let the devil in pink think that it bothered her as much as it did. She knew it would take longer to heal than Harry’s, simply because she had written three pages, front and back to prove a point. 

“What the bloody hell happened to your hand?” She sighed knowing that he always seemed to follow her or appear when she felt as if she needed to be alone. Maybe that was a sign that she didn’t need to be alone or maybe it was the universe telling her that someone cared, because to her it sometimes felt like they didn’t. 

She let out a humorless laugh at the question, “that’s what happens when you defend your brother in class and say Voldemort’s back.” She muttered, exhaustion clear in her voice. “You get detention with Umbitch.” 

“Detention? That’s what that is?” He asked as he carefully picked up her hand to inspect the damage of the so called “detention” 

After a moment, Y/N pulled her hand back and cleared her throat. “It’ll heal.” She mumbled her jaw clenching as she accidentally moved it the wrong way. “It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve stopped when Harry did. I shouldn’t have tried to prove a point.” She leaned back in the library chair and clicked her tongue. Her eyes stayed on her hand but as her anger and frustration died down, guilt was slowly creeping in. “I’m sorry.” She apologize, lifting her eyes to meet his. “You’ve been nothing but nice to me and I freaked on you and Fred.” She explained noticing his confusion. 

George shrugged it off, “Forgotten.” He assured noticing the way her eyes were glassy and drooping. Signs that her body was exhausted and she was tired. “Are you sleeping?” He asked the question but he felt as though he knew the answer. 

Y/N sighed rubbing her good hand over her face, “not very well.” She admitted almost against her will. The last thing she needed was to have a Weasley following her around worrying about her, even if it is the one she used to dream about. The one she had a stupid school girl crush on. If she wasn’t so exhausted she probably would’ve been a blushing mess. If she didn’t have to worry about an impending wizard war then she would probably be beyond excited to have the attention of said Weasley she had a crush on. “I’m fine.” 

George let out a sound between a snort and a humorless laugh, “sure and I’m actually Fred and the older twin.” 

“George,” 

“Y/N.” 

“I’m fine.” She stated looking directly into his warm eyes. His eye narrowed at her not understanding why she felt the need to lie to him. 

George leaned closer to the girl. She sucked in a breath not expecting him to get that close to her face. “I’m calling you a liar.” He replied, reading her like she was an open book. She truly didn’t understand why it mattered. Harry was good at hiding his feelings and she would be too if she could get a decent amount of sleep. Y/N pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows slightly, “look I’m not here to pester you.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” She grumbled. Annoyed that he willingly called her a liar. 

“I’m trying to make sure that you are alright.” George finished ignoring her commentary while he was trying to think of the right words. “I know it’s annoying being asked all the time, but when I ask… I truly want to know.” 

She leaned back, surveying him. Last year, she would’ve fainted if he would’ve given this much interest in her. After all, it’s all she’s wanted since third year and here it was. Even if he didn’t want her the same way she did him.  “I don’t need anyone to watch over me.” She stated crossing her arms. 

“Merlin, woman. Just let me check on you.” George muttered slightly annoyed. Why was he trying so hard? He didn’t even know. “You don’t have to be so stubborn.” 

She wasn’t used to letting people in, regardless of what her friendships looked like. Regardless of her emotions and her feelings for the Weasley across from her. 

You and James were leaving Care of Magical Creatures together, heading to meet up with Remus and Sirius near the Greenhouses when one Lily Evans walked by - graciously bestowing James the time of day for quite possibly the first time ever - when you decided that this was the perfect pranking opportunity.

You really couldn't be blamed for what happened next: it truly was a gift bestowed upon you by the great pranking gods, and who were you to deny it?

"Hello, Potter." Lily said, causing James to gasp dramatically.

"Hello, Lily! Beautiful day out today, innit?"

Lily couldn't help but snicker at the sickeningly wide grin that took over James' face.

"Oi, Jamie. I forgot to tell you: mum sent that rash cream you were asking for. She said to remind you it's only safe to put around your anus, not in it." You proclaimed loudly, pretending to read from a 'letter' your mother had sent.

The courtyard became incredibly quiet before what you recognized to be Barty Crouch Junior's laugh echoed the space, triggering the snickering of all those present.

"You are so dead!" James sneered and you didn't hesitate to take off in a sprint - knowing your brother was a mere few paces behind you.

"You slithering little snake! She finally starts coming around - are you kidding me!?" He shouted as you swerved between bodies standing in your way whilst he just barrelled right through them.

Suddenly, you saw salvation in the form of one Remus John Lupin.

Now, granted, Remus didn't always protect you from your squabbles with James. Part of the reason for that was because half of the time you sort of deserved it (much like today), and the other part was that he claimed he didn't know what proper protocol was in sibling relationships on account of him being an only child. Sirius, a brother himself, had no such qualms and always took your side.

However, you knew that the full moon was in a mere two more sleeps, meaning Remus was at his most protective (read: possessive) which did not distinguish James Potter as friend, sibling, nor pack.

Right now: James Potter was only a threat.

And, let's be honest, being James Potter's twin sister, and a girlfriend to Remus Lupin and Sirius black also meant you were mischievous as hell. So you had no trouble using this to your utmost advantage.

You squeaked in terror as you slid behind Remus' lanky frame a moment before James - the bastard - slammed into his form and all but bounced off of Remus. James was admittedly more muscular than Remus, but Remus' height and werewolf strength left him towering above James as the dumb sod picked himself up off the ground.

"What in the buggering hell is going on?" He spat at James as one of his arms wrapped behind him, shielding you from your fuming brother.

"That sneaky little witch just embarrassed me in front of Lily!" James barked, looking like he was still trying to figure out how to get around Remus in order to strangle you.

"Please," Sirius drawled as he walked over casually, "like you need any help in that department Prongs."

You tried to hide your snicker, but from Remus' glance at you through the corner of his eye, you knew he caught it.

"She told the entire courtyard I needed cream for a rash on my anus!"

Sirius doubled over in laughter and you preened when you noticed Remus let out a soft chuckle himself.

"It's not sodding funny you wanker! Lily spoke to me first today! I'm going to kill you!" James snarled, moving his attention from Sirius to you.

As James stepped forward menacingly, Remus grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Prongs, enough." He barked.

Sirius was still laughing when he moved to stand between Remus and James, releasing James' shirt from Remus' fist.

"Okay, down boy." Sirius snarked, patting James' shoulder consolingly.

"Oh, sod off." James muttered, elbowing Sirius as he moved to step away.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and tried to even out your breathing; lungs still burning from your run.

"You okay, dove?" Remus asked you so gently as he bent down to make eye contact with you. His face screamed love, attentiveness, and care, making you feel slightly guilty for having shoved him in the middle of your tomfoolery.

"I'm fine, Moons. Sorry for causing trouble." You answered solemnly.

His face picked up slightly at your words as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't causing trouble, love."

Your tender moment was interrupted by a yelp, causing the two of you to turn only to notice James and Sirius wrestling. James seemed to have gotten Sirius into a headlock, and the sod wasn't willing to tap out - still kicking and clawing at James in anyway he could.

"Oi!" Remus shouted as he plucked Sirius out of James' grasp and shoved him in the direction of the castle. James used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to set his sights back on you as he lunged, tackling you to the ground.

"Fuckin' hell Jamie! You weight a tonne!" You shouted, kneeing him in the gut. James doubled over and rolled onto his side in the fetal position.

You didn't even get a chance to right yourself before you were thrown over Remus' shoulder who was still shouting at Sirius to "get back to the dorm. The both of you are staying within my sights for the next foreseeable future" as you all left James with the wind knocked out of him, keeled over on the castle grounds.

She was somewhat different, though, at least from his other hook-ups. She wasn’t a one-night stand. Sirius and her had gone on like a game of hide and seek that never ended. Maybe she was a fool, a loser as Marlene called her, but she doesn't mind. Not when it was her name Sirius was whispering, it was her legs he was in between, it was his bed she was on.

“Fuck… you’re beautiful, Y/n.” he groaned in her ears as his hips hit her own. He kissed her neck and went up her cheeks then her lips, just as he’d done yesterday and the day before. Hitting all the right spots, telling her sweet nothings as the world they knew became one of moans and cries. “All this just for me, love. I feel so special.” The effect this man had, he knew what those words did to the girl. Building her up, literally and figuratively, then tossing her. He always came back, it was the same pattern as always. 

Sirius drew her these worlds, so pretty and perfect. Dreaming what life with him could be as he fucked her brains out, only to then have her leave by kissing her goodnight. Soon he came inside her, filling her up with hopes of commitment. “Here,” he offers her his hand as his cock leaves her, she’s now cold and empty once more. She grabbed his hand, guiding her through the empty room and into the bathroom. They showered together; she cleaned his hair the way he liked while he cleaned her body the way she liked. They weren't strangers, even before the arrangement. Sirius is like a brother to James, but he is the universe to Y/n. He held himself as the sun, yet she was a mere human who could only stare at him through rose-tinted glasses. Even now as he caresses the marks he left on her neck, he’s miles away. Soon they get dry,  kiss goodbye, and he says calmly, “No attachments, baby,” then closes the door. She goes down the stairs, past the portrait, hiding from Filch, and then going to her bed. Sound asleep, wearing his shirt and her favorite bottoms, her best bra under his bed with the rest. It’s casual. It always is. 

————————

“What’s between you and Sirius? I’ve heard rumors, you know?” Lucius said, a mouthful of eggs nearing his lips. His eyes carried a hint of worry as he ate, never once looking away from the girl.

“Nothing, he’s my brother’s friend. What more could it possibly be?” truthfully, her eyes glistened at the thought. She remembered the night before and knew it was bound to repeat again. She was looking right at the black-haired man, but he sat with his back to her, not even sparing a glance. Her brother waved and smiled as always, unbeknownst to the betrayal, yet his best friend didn’t even look back. He just continued to talk and laugh. 

“Well, someone said they saw you leaving his dorm…”

“You can’t  trust Gryffindors, Lucius, you know better.”

The blond shrugs and continues eating. Occasionally he glances between Sirius and Y/n, noticing her pupils fill with love contrary to the frown her mouth holds. “You Potters and your words.” he sighs defeatedly. 

The friends moved along, talking about classes, family, their plans for summer, etc. Even after the bell rang, the two moved like a pair of conjoined twins. For once she didn’t notice the holes burning into her friend’s skull by the eyes of a certain member of the Black family. 

James swung his hand around the other’s shoulder, “What’re you looking at, mate?”

“Just Slytherins, nothing special.”

“Better not be talking bout my sis.”

“I’d never.”

“Good. I’d have hexed you. Just an older brother thing, you understand.”

  Yet Sirius didn’t understand, at least not when it came to the aching feeling in his chest when he saw those two. They’d been like this since first year, it’s been bothering him since first year. He knew they were friends, and both confirmed it, yet he couldn’t help but feel cheated on. “Yeah, yeah. We’re still on for the Ravenclaw party right?” Sirius looked up at James, quirking his head to the side.

“Of course! Evans is gonna be there, I hope. At least that’s what Y/n/n says, she told me to wear something casual.”

It was dark that night. With stormy clouds and bleak skies.

Midnight.

The cold air biting into my skin as I lie in wait for him to come.A note transferred to my pockets in the crowded halls. Discreet and unsuspecting as James tugged me along to the Great Hall.

“Meet me at the Astronomy tower at midnight.”

Nothing more, nothing less, no smiles or caring words. Not even a hint of eye contact lest we risk my brother catching on.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as I was lost in thought. What could it be? Rarely do we meet on school nights; rarely does he need to pass a note. Usually he draws me into a classroom or empty hall to confirm my presence at the tower.

Not that he ever needs to. It's always the same, Saturday at midnight, lost in one another for hours. It's been that way for two years. Ever since we got paired up in fourth year potions; it became irreversible. The hidden touches, whispered secrets, stealthy gazes, became integral to our lives at Hogwarts. The moment our eyes met it was inescapable. Yet still, this change of pace unsettles me.

I’m not stupid. It's impossible to ignore. The war that wages outside this castle. The rise of the Dark Lord. I know what it means for Regulus. Being from the most Noble and Ancient House of Black that darkness surrounds him. This war, this Dark Lord, the Deatheaters have been a part of his life before I even knew of Voldemort's existence. Before the war officially began, the Blacks had already been well established in his favor. I know of the pressures Regulus faces. The expectations. The future his family charted for him does not include joining the Order like his brother. No, like his parents, his cousins, his friends, he is expected to become a servant of the Dark Lord.

A Deatheater.

Is that what this meeting is about? Or has his mother finally found out about our relationship? Is he ending it of his own accord?

I sigh. It's been ten minutes of nothing but my own thoughts, spiraling to the worst possible conclusions. I could be worrying over nothing, maybe this is just another simple meeting, maybe he wanted to see me after hours on more than just Saturday nights. But something is holding me back from believing that. Something in the back of my mind, maybe it's just the abrupt change in routine, maybe it's how quickly he walked away, or the way he wouldn't meet my eyes during dinner. Whatever it is, something tells me it's not that simple.

Footsteps. I turn around before he can even open his mouth to speak and I smile, albeit hesitantly, as Regulus enters my focus. The pit in my stomach continues to build.

“Reggie”, I whisper, practically breathless. The nerves and anticipation rising with every second. His lips twitch into a barely noticeable smile before quickly falling into his infamous frown once again. His eyes are stormy and conflicted, wary and broken, everything about them screams bitter acceptance. As if he's already certain of how this conversation will end.

“Y/n...” He starts but quickly trails off, seemingly unable to find the words he called me here for.

“What is it Regulus, why did you want to meet up tonight?” I ask, trying my best to disguise the uncertainty and fear in my voice. I'm not particularly successful as his frown deepens when I speak.

“We need to talk”, he says with that same uncertainty and apprehension in his voice that had filled my own just seconds ago.

“I know that…” I trail off again. “What about?”

I ask, nervously biting my bottom lip as I wait for his answer. He takes a breath and as he goes to speak I swear I can hear a clock chime deep within the castle. Definitive and foreboding.

He can barely meet my eyes as he goes to speak, brows furrowed, subconsciously grazing his arm. I've rarely seen him like this. So uncertain, the few times I have were during the weeks after Sirius ran away. When he showed up beaten and bloody at our doorstep, bags packed, and notably no Regulus in sight. He had confided in me then, on this same tower, about how he missed his brother, how he hated him, how he regretted not running away with him, and finally, how he knew he never could. This doesn't bode well at all for whatever he's about to tell me. My heart drops again.

“It's-”, he clutches his arm again. “Over winter break…”

his gaze doesn't meet mine, focused solely on the floor. Instinctively I step closer to him, my gaze wary but soft, my hand grasping his shoulder.

“Y/n I'm sorry but I…I had too.” Regulus says as tears fill his eyes.

“Had to what Regulus?” I ask, despite knowing, at least subconsciously, exactly what he meant. I study his expression, his face, the dark eyebags under his now wet grey eyes. He's exhausted, scared, and most notably, he's resigned. To his fate, to his family, to how he has decided this conversation will go, I'm not sure. Maybe all three. He looks as if his head has been thrust into the pillory and the guillotine has already begun to fall.

Instead of answering, he begins to lift the sleeve up his left arm. Slowly, as if once he's done everything will be final. I hold my breath as it finally comes into view.

The darkmark. Symbol of Voldemort's henchmen, of the Deatheaters. It stains his porcelain skin. A blemish on Regulus and myself. I stare down at it, my face pulled into a frown and it feels like reality has finally come crashing down on us. What does it matter if we've spent two years evading the watchful eyes of our siblings, of our friends, of every student at Hogwarts? What does it matter that we've spent every break writing to one another in secret, never signing the letters in case a nosy sibling or parent would read them? What does it matter that I've been fully prepared to defend Regulus to the end of the earth once it were to come out? That I had already accepted the distrust and disgust my friends and brother would throw my way once I told them. What does all of that matter when the war is inescapable and has finally caught up to us? It's not fair, I think, that we've had to take so many precautions, just to be within each other's arms, only for that mark, that symbol, to stain everything we've worked towards.

I take in a shaky breath and look up to Regulus. My eyes filled not with betrayal, not with anger, but instead sadness and grief. I take another step closer to him and despite the hideous snake and skull that now consumes his left arm, I hug him tightly and bury my face into his shoulder as I let my own tears rush out. He doesn't say anything, doesn't react at first, but slowly and surely wraps his arms around me and sobs. We stay like that for a while, unable to stop the emotions that have overtaken us. I can't think about what this means but at the same time I can't ignore it. I've been able to run from this war for so long, despite knowing how many slytherins had already joined his ranks, despite knowing my brother and his friends have joined Dumbledore's order, despite Lily telling me I too should consider joining, I had fooled myself into thinking this war wouldn't reach us. That me and Regulus were owed just one more year of peace before it was finally shattered.

Slowly I remove my face from crushing Regulus’ shoulder and try to compose myself. I have dried tear stains covering my face and a shaky frown on my lips but at least I'm no longer sobbing. Regulus looks down on me, tears still glazing his eyes and that defeated expression still frozen on his face.

“Regulus”, I start, my voice shaky and hoarse.

“I-”, he cuts me off before I can even form a sentence, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

“You don't have to say anything Y/n. I understand. You don't have to spare my feelings, you can leave, I understand”. He places firm emphasis on that last part, knowing of my families standing within the order, knowing of their beliefs and my own, knowing the inevitable danger staying with him would put me in, how much I could lose by doing so, but my eyes widen slightly at his words, at his acceptance, and another tear slips down my face.

“I'm not going to leave you Reggie. I don't want to.” I say as I reach up to cup his cheek. I take a quick glance down at the mark that's still so prominently on display and sigh before looking back into his eyes.

“I-, I already knew this was a possibility. I'm not naive. I know what your family is like. I know their values…” I say, voice firm, a stark contrast to just moments ago.

“I'm not going to lie and say I'm not devastated that you've taken his mark, that you've joined his side…” I break eye contact with him looking off in the distance as I contemplate my next words. “But I knew what I was getting into, I've always known.” I use my thumb to wipe away an escaped tear. “This mark, this allegiance, I know you Regulus, It's hard for me to believe you would seek it out.” My voice is bitter as I speak, not at him, but at the Dark Lord for going after children, at his family for their expectations and the weight they've placed on his shoulders, at me, for allowing myself to fall for a boy I knew would one day bare this mark, and more importantly, for not being nearly as angry at him as I should be. Where was that Gryffindor sense of justice we prided ourselves in? Where was that righteousness my family wore like a heart on our sleeves? Why couldn't I find it within myself to get mad at him? Why do I instead feel a deep rooted sorrow and an unshakable determination to get through this?

As I lost myself within my thoughts Regulus began to speak. Voice soft, whispering as if he’s scared to be overheard. As if vocalizing it will make it more real.

“I didn't want this Y/n, my mother and father, they let him into our home and brought me to his feet.” He looks at me, tears beginning to well up again.

“I knelt for him and let him brand me with this mark. They were all watching…I couldn't- I couldn't refuse”, he says looking away from me, shame, guilt, and resentment filling his voice. His words confirm what I already knew, that his parents had made him stand by the Dark Lord's side, the fears I had, the fears Sirius had, the fears Regulus himself had, had finally come true. The Blacks made their favorite son take on the mark of a monster and of course he agreed because who was Regulus black to defy his fate? Who was he to deny the will of his parents? And now, who is he to defy the will of the Lord they made him serve.

This time I pull him close to me and embrace him again. My fingers running through his hair as I speak. “I know Reggie, I know…” I say soothingly, hoping to calm him down. I hold him tighter as I feel him begin to cry softly again. I look down at him in pity, at what he's agreed to join, the lord he has promised himself to, the conflict I could see within his eyes.

“We'll get through this Regulus, you don't have to worry about me going anywhere, I'll be right here with you through everything okay? We've made it this far already, this mark isn't going to change anything.” As I say this I remove myself from his hold and bring his left arm up to my lips, leaving a trail of soft kisses up his dark mark before finally kissing his lips with a bittersweet smile and a warm gaze.

The night was heavy, the air thick with that sense that something was about to go wrong.

You, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were in the middle of the hunt for the Horcruxes when everything fell apart. A well-planned ambush — Death Eaters appearing out of nowhere, spells whizzing through the air, and the desperate rush to react.

“Run!” Harry shouted, but there was no way out. There were too many of them.

Annabeth fought with a dagger in her hand, blocking curses with demigod reflexes. Grover tried to summon roots from the ground to hold the enemies back, but the dark magic of the wizards was hard to counter. You clutched your wand, your heart racing, casting defensive spells as chaos grew.

Among the captors, a familiar figure made Percy’s stomach churn: Luke Castellan. Your ex-friend, the traitorous demigod, now allied with the Death Eaters. He was the one who, in seconds, surrounded the group. And soon after, transported them.

Malfoy Manor appeared before your eyes like a living shadow. The dark mansion loomed against the night sky, its windows dimly lit as if hiding secrets no one should uncover. The gate creaked as it opened, and you were dragged inside, magically shackled. The marble floor reflected the flickering flames of the torches. The cold feeling of the mansion seemed to seep into your skin. You had only known the place from stories — but now you were there, a prisoner.

You were taken to the Great Hall. Bellatrix Lestrange appeared, her terrifying smile lighting up her pale face. You had always heard she was insane and cruel, but had never met her in person. Now it was time to see if the rumors were true.

“Look at what we have here…” she sang, circling you like a snake about to strike. “Harry Potter… and friends. Ah, and who are these others?”

Her eyes landed on Percy, Grover, and Annabeth. The intensity of her gaze was as if she already knew. But her hand rose to touch Percy’s face, and he recoiled.

“Hmm. Not all wizards, are they? There’s something… different about this one,” she said, closing in.

Then he appeared again: Luke. His presence made you roll your eyes.

“This is the famous Percy Jackson,” Luke said, his voice dripping with venom. “A demigod. Son of Poseidon. One of the forbidden children. Dangerous, powerful… and a pawn of the gods. He’s stronger than he looks, but not as clever as he thinks.”

Then she noticed the Sword of Gryffindor in the bag Percy was carrying — the same bag they had been using during the mission.

That’s when everything started going wrong.

“How did you get this?” Bellatrix screamed so loud you nearly felt your eardrum explode. “You broke into my Gringotts vault, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t!” Percy retorted.

“Liar!” Her shout cut through the room, followed by a spell that knocked everyone to the ground. “Luke was right about you, after all. A shameless thief… but one who will pay the price.”

Your heart stopped for a moment.

“No! He has nothing to do with this!” you screamed, but a Death Eater pressed a wand against your neck.

Bellatrix ignored your protests and raised her wand toward Percy.

“Take the others to the basement,” Bellatrix ordered, her voice low with a menacing smile — far scarier than if she had kept shouting. “This one stays with me. Let’s see how strong you really are…”

“Don’t touch him!” you yelled, your voice cracking, but it was too late.

“Crucio!” the woman screamed.

“No! Leave him!” you begged, but Peter Pettigrew and Greyback dragged you along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Annabeth, and Grover down into the dark basement.

The last thing you saw was the spell cutting through the air like an invisible blade. Percy arched on the floor, his scream echoing through the hall. You had never heard a sound so horrifying. Percy trembled, sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles tensed in pain. Bellatrix laughed as if it were music.

You were thrown into the cold, damp basement, the walls echoing the distant sounds from the hall. You, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Annabeth, Grover, and, to your surprise, Luna Lovegood, Ollivander, and the goblin Grampo were piled together, trapped behind magical bars. Then a scream cut through the silence — Percy’s scream.

You slammed against the door, your hands hitting the metal bars.

“Percy!” Your voice trembled with desperation. “They’re going to kill him! We need to get out of here!”

“I know, but we need a rational plan. Just leaving and trying to fight them is dumb,” Hermione said, trying to calm you but sounding a little desperate herself.

“She’s right,” Annabeth added, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Besides, Percy’s really strong. He’s faced Titans, monsters, and worse.”

But none of that comforted you — it went in one ear and out the other. You still felt the warmth of Percy’s smile from hours earlier, when he told you about the sea, eyes sparkling, promising to take you to the beach one day. All you wanted was to run and save Percy.

You kept screaming for him, pounding on the door. Annabeth and Hermione had no choice but to pull you away, trying to maintain control — after all, acting out could bring more trouble.

But before being fully dragged away, you saw through a crack that Bellatrix grabbed a silver dagger, pulled his arm, and with her wand, burned letters into his skin. You saw blood start to flow.

The word glowed on his arm in bright red: FORBIDDEN.

Percy looked at you, a tear mixed with the blood running down his face.

Your heart broke.

Harry joined the girls to calm you, after all, he was your brother and knew you better than anyone. But he didn’t understand why you were so distressed over Percy. Sure, he had nothing against the demigod, but your desperation seemed over the top, since you weren’t usually so attached to people, especially so quickly. Still, he didn’t fully trust Percy, and whenever Percy was alone with his sister, Harry made it a point to interfere.

In the hall, the torture continued. Bellatrix, with a sadistic gleam in her eyes, raised her wand over Percy again, his face twisted in pain.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix yelled again.

Percy’s scream was visceral, like every nerve in his body was on fire. He writhed on the floor, fists clenched, trying to withstand the unbearable pain of the curse. This was different from any battle he had faced — there was no sword, no sea to save him now. He was in so much pain, but he had no strength left to fight, not even to scream, not even to cry.

Bellatrix laughed, leaning over him.

“Luke said you were a hero, but you’re not looking like one,” she mocked, taking a knife and deepening the bloody letters on his arms. “I thought you were stronger than this.”

Time seemed to drag in the basement. Each second of silence, broken only by Percy’s screams, was torture in itself. You could barely breathe, your chest rising and falling unevenly.

Harry held the Mirror of Sirius, whispering desperate pleas for help while Grover and Ron thought of a plan.

Then a snap echoed, and Dobby appeared, his large eyes shining with courage.

“Dobby?” You asked, glad to see him.

“What are you doing here?” your brother asked, incredulous.

“I’m here to help the Potters and their friends, of course,” the elf replied firmly.

Grover narrowed his eyes. “Wait… you just apparated in here? Can you get us out too?”

“Of course, I’m an elf,” Dobby said, like it was obvious.

The entire group looked at each other, and for the first time since being captured, a thread of hope lit up the suffocating basement.

“All right,” Hermione said quickly, trying to stay in control. “Take Luna and Ollivander first to—”

“Shell Cottage!” Ron interrupted confidently. Everyone stared at him, confused by the sudden certainty, but he just said, “Trust me.”

“When you’re ready, sir.” Luna smiled sweetly at Dobby. The elf blinked, moved by the gesture.

“Sir?… I like her very much,” Dobby muttered, eyes sparkling.

He reached for Luna and Ollivander, but before disappearing said: “Meet me at the top of the stairs in ten seconds.”

And with another snap, he vanished.

Time seemed to drag. Then heavy footsteps echoed — Peter Pettigrew descending the stairs. The group pressed against the walls, holding their breath. Before he could see anyone, another snap came from upstairs: Dobby had reappeared.

The elf raised his hand and cast a quick spell, knocking the Death Eater to the floor with a thud. Without wasting time, the group ran up the stairs silently, hearts racing, hiding in the shadows of the upper floor, waiting for the right moment to act.

When they arrived, the scene was disturbing: Bellatrix was in front of the goblin Grampo, who had been taken from the basement a while ago, wand raised and a cruel smile on her lips. But the goblin didn’t seem scared — just bored, as if her threat were a minor annoyance. The witch, impatient, gave up and turned to Percy, who was on the floor, trembling slightly, body weak, eyes half-closed.

“I’ll take care of this one,” Bellatrix announced.

“No way…” you murmured, so low it sounded more like a promise to yourself than a response.

Without hesitation, you stepped out of hiding and cast the first spell at the witch. Chaos erupted immediately: spells streaked through the air in beams of light, ricocheting off the walls. You, your brother, Ron, and Hermione fought Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius, while Annabeth and Grover showed their skill against Luke and other Death Eaters.

Then a sharp scream cut through the battle. Bellatrix was back in the center, now holding Percy as a human shield, wand pressed against his neck. The world froze for a moment.

She said something — but to you, the words were a distant buzz. What really mattered was Percy’s lost gaze, the fear in his eyes, the blood running down his arm. Your chest burned with the need to save him. Then a strange sound caught your attention: a metallic creak, persistent, like screws giving way.

Instinctively, you looked up. And there was Dobby, balanced on the massive crystal chandelier, tinkering with the fittings. Then the structure gave way. The chandelier fell, shattering into a thousand pieces across the floor.

Bellatrix screamed, distracted by the impact, and instinctively threw Percy away, and he landed in front of you.

“Percy!” your voice broke as you knelt beside him. Your trembling hands touched his face with a tenderness almost unrecognizable amid the war.

“Percy, look at me,” you whispered, voice shaking as your fingers traced his cheek, now pale and slick with sweat. The blood still ran from the forearm where “Forbidden” was carved, a cruel scar pulsing with the pain he felt. Percy’s normally lively eyes were glazed, lost somewhere between agony and fear. He trembled, exhausted, but hearing your voice, he tried to focus on you.

“Hey…” he murmured, weak, almost a sigh. He tried to rise but collapsed into your arms, his weight supported by you. You held his hand carefully, avoiding the wound, as if a wrong touch could break him further.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay,” you said, with a conviction hiding your own fear. You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, eyes locked on his, anchoring him to reality. “We’re going somewhere safe now,” you assured him.

Dobby reappeared with a snap in the hall. His large eyes shone with courage.

“Dobby doesn’t let his friends suffer!” he announced.

“Now!” Harry shouted, and the group moved in unison. Ron cast Expelliarmus, disarming Narcissa, while Annabeth threw her dagger, forcing Luke to retreat. You pulled Percy closer, helping him stand, even though he could barely support himself.

“Come on, Percy, just a little more,” you whispered, arm around his waist, guiding him toward the center of the group.

Dobby snapped his fingers again, and the air around began to swirl, the familiar pull of apparition enveloping everyone.

The cold sand of Shell Cottage touched your feet, the sound of the waves bringing momentary relief. You still held Percy, who collapsed onto the sand, body shaking from exhaustion and pain. His arm bled where “Forbidden” was carved, eyes filled with a void that broke your heart. But you weren’t going to give up on him.

“Percy, stay with me,” you whispered, fingers tracing his face gently, wiping sweat and tears from his cheek with care, contrasting the horror you had faced. “You’re safe now. I promise.”

He tried to respond, but only a low groan escaped. He held your hand weakly, as if it was the only thing keeping him anchored. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, letting him rest his head on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, Percy. I’m here.”

Annabeth and Hermione ran to you, eyes wide seeing the word carved on Percy’s arm.

“He’ll be fine,” Hermione said, voice trembling but trying to stay calm. She knew the curse cast on him was extremely powerful, but she also knew Percy was strong.

“He needs care,” Annabeth added, voice firm but full of emotion. “Let’s take him inside.”

You shook your head, eyes never leaving Percy. You carefully cleaned the blood from his arm with your sleeve, avoiding the cruel letters. Your fingers traced gentle circles on his back, and Percy, more vulnerable than ever, let out a low sob, face still buried in your shoulder.

Percy was carried inside, limp in the arms of Bill and Harry, and passed out almost instantly when they laid him on the couch.

Without wasting time, everyone moved. Dobby appeared beside them, small hands preparing compresses and healing spells, using all the knowledge he had absorbed over the years as a house-elf.

Grover approached quickly, muttering ancient words. A smell of wet earth and forest filled the air as he channeled nature’s blessings, trying to ease Percy’s pain and slow the bleeding.

Annabeth, hands steady despite her panicked expression, pulled a small golden bottle from her bag. It was Nectar, a very powerful healing potion for demigods, she explained.

You knelt beside him, holding Percy’s hand the entire time. Every tremor of his body cut through you like a blade. Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched, ready to help but knowing you were handling this perfectly.

Harry, seeing you — his sister — holding Percy so carefully, with a tenderness he rarely saw in you, something shifted. He realized how much Percy meant to you, and how you were the strength he needed now. For the first time, Harry felt that maybe Percy was more than a dangerous ally — he was someone who made you happy. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he could ease up on both of you.

That night, the silence was broken by a scream. Percy woke from a nightmare, body drenched in sweat, eyes wide with terror. He saw Bellatrix, the knife, her sadistic laugh mixed with Luke’s betrayal, the fire of the Cruciatus curse burning every nerve.

Percy suddenly rose, chest heaving as if he had just surfaced from the bottom of the ocean after being out of air. A scream escaped his throat, but was muffled as he brought his hands to his own arm, where the red letters still burned.

You woke instantly and ran to the next room, Percy’s room.

“Percy! Calm down, what happened?” Your voice was steady, though your own breathing was rapid.

His eyes were now glassy, watery. He seemed lost, as if still trapped in Malfoy Manor, hearing Bellatrix’s laugh echoing in his mind. His entire body shook, every muscle contracted in reflex to the never-ending pain.

“She…” his voice faltered. He swallowed hard, trying again. “She wouldn’t stop. I thought… I thought I wouldn’t survive. That I would die there.”

Your chest ached so much it felt like it would break. It was a nightmare. Unfortunately, you and your brother were used to them — nearly every night. But that meant you knew how to handle them.

You held his face in both hands, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“You didn’t die. You’re here. With us. With me.”

For a moment, Percy seemed to waver between belief and disbelief. But when his fingers found yours, squeezing weakly but desperately, you realized he needed this anchor more than anything.

You could feel others in the house approaching, peeking at the door, curious. But you just gave them your sternest look, telling them to leave. And in an instant, there was no one left in the room but the two of you.

“It’s not just the arm that hurts,” he said, almost a whisper. “It’s in here.” He placed his hand over his chest, as if trying to pull the pain out.

You pressed your forehead against his, breathing deeply to stay calm.

“I know. But you won’t carry it alone. I’ll be here. Always.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but not empty. Percy closed his eyes, body slowly yielding against yours, as if finally allowing someone to share that weight. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling each tremor, each uneven breath.

The sea crashed against the rocks outside, cold wind entering through the cracks of Shell Cottage. But there, on that bed, you were Percy’s safe harbor.

“I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” you whispered, almost inaudibly.

Percy opened his eyes just a bit, gaze softening when it met yours. His lips moved, forming a word so quiet only you heard:

“Thanks.”

You stayed there, just feeling each other’s presence. Percy had regulated his breathing and was no longer crying. Instead, you heard a muffled sound, like a laugh.

“You probably think I’m an idiot,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “I’m already old, and I’m still crying over a nightmare.”

You laughed softly, but without a trace of mockery. You brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

"You're stupid to think that. There's no age limit for pain, Percy. You've been through hell. Anyone would have crumbled."

He took a deep breath, trying to hide his shame, but the way he gripped your hand gave it all away.

For a moment, Percy just stared at you, as if trying to believe what you were saying. His chest rose and fell slowly, and you could feel each rapid beat against your body. But then he closed his eyes again.

And then, finally, he fell asleep again, his body heavy against yours. But this time, it didn't feel like a faint from pain—it was more like someone exhausted who had finally found a place to rest.