#prompt31

Prompt: Costume Party @jilytoberfest

The Hogwarts Halloween masked ball was the height of the social calendar for the sixth and seventh year students. Lily had thought she knew what a masquerade was, having seen them in muggle movies and parties, but Hogwarts took ‘masquerade’ to a whole other level.

The Hogwarts student had upped the ante of the masquerade ball. According to Hogwarts legend, ages ago a student had found a lesser known glamour charm, in one of the books of the restricted section. When the charm was cast upon the mask, the wearer of said mask would become unrecognizable to everyone else. If the wearer were to look in a mirror, they would recognize themselves– and see themselves as they are. But to everyone else, they’d become another person entirely. It was a charm, not a transfiguration spell, so the wearer’s appearance didn’t actually change, but while they wore the charmed mask; anyone who wasn’t privy before the charm was cast and the mask donned, would remain oblivious to the wearer’s identity. (Like having a secret keeper, for one’s identity)

Lily had been assured countless times that the charm was safe to use, and that students had been using it for decades– but had determined to conduct her own research.

In her studies, she’d found that the charm worked similarly to a ‘notice me not’ charm. Since the charm didn’t alter physical appearance or voice, it merely changed others’ perceptions of the wearer. Anyone who looked upon the wearer would simply be unable to place who they were– unable to put a name to the face, so to speak.

Being able to exist with anonymity was a freeing concept, and the Masquerade ball was legendary for the hijinks and shenanigans that students got upto under the cloak of anonymousness.

Lily regarded her costume as she dressed for the ball. Her costume of choice for the evening: a phoenix. Her dress robes had arrived a few days prior from Madam Malkin's. They shifted between the oranges, yellows, and burning reds of a fire, and had dramatic sleeves that looked like the wings of a phoenix when she raised her arms. Her accompanying mask was a brilliant gold that sat delicately against her cheekbones, and drew attention to her eyes.

Satisfied with her appearance, Lily swept down the staircase making her way to the great hall. She and her roommates had staggered their arrivals, so no one would be able to guess at their identities. As she entered the great hall several heads turned to look her way, which wasn’t unusual for the Hogwarts masquerade. Everyone was curious who would turn up in what, and always tried to puzzle out their identities– despite the foolproof charm placed upon the masks. Lily made eye contact with Marlene who practically beamed with pride (the robes had been her idea), and smiled brightly over at Alice and Mary, the latter of whom responded with a wink.

Slowly, but surely, the entirety of Hogwarts sixth and seventh year students gathered in the great hall. When the clock struck nine, the orchestra struck up their first tune: a walz.

“May I have this dance?” a deep voice asked over her shoulder. Lily turned around to politely decline, but was struck speechless by the stunningly golden eyes staring back at her. She nodded, still unable to form coherent speech. He gave the requisite, old fashioned, bow, and she responded with a curtsy. She took his proffered arm and was led onto the dance floor by her partner, who seemed to be dressed as a muggle pirate.

Together, they made idle chit-chat as they floated through the steps of the walz. He was obviously a skilled dancer, and Lily was grateful she wouldn’t spend the rest of the night nursing bruised toes. The song drew to an end, and they each dipped a respective bow or curtsy.

“Might I ask the pleasure of stealing your next dance as well?” her handsome partner asked with a winning smile.

“Yes, of course,” she said– or well she must’ve, because he took her by the waist again as the orchestra played the first few notes of the next song, but that breathy voice surely couldn’t be hers. She wasn’t some lovestruck fool in a gothic romance, sighing and fainting over every attractive man in a mile’s radius! She was a modern, twentieth century woman, who took great pleasure in her independence and steadfastly held to the belief that no one should ever swoon over a boy, unless they were a poorly written heroine in some tragic romance. And yet… And yet she thought she might feel just a bit weak in the knees as his hand settled more firmly around her waist for the second dance.

As they danced they talked about their lives away from Hogwarts. He was an only child, but had found a family in his time at Hogwarts. She had a sister, who was deeply resentful of her, and had similarly found family here. He firmly denounced the dark arts, which made her breathe a sigh of relief that at least her mystery partner wasn’t Sev or one of his junior Death Eater friends. She agreed wholeheartedly and they moved into discussion about the changing climate of the wizarding world, and their shared fear that it would escalate into all out war– all while maintaining time to the quick steps of a quadrille.

They danced to song after song, some sets were filled with conversation, the silent, content to be in the other’s company. They finally stepped off the dance floor when Lily mentioned the refreshments they both had yet to sample. Her partner offered his elbow again and escorted her off the floor. They sat together at a table, sipping champagne and continuing their cautious divulging of personal details– while retaining the element of anonymity.

Lily finished her flute of champagne, her partner following suit. Together they rose, but instead of offering his elbow as he had before, he turned to look at her– suddenly apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve monopolized all your time this evening. I would happily spend the rest of the night partnered with you, but if you wished to find another partner–”

“No!” she cut him off.

“No? No, like you don’t want to dance with me anymore? Or no, like you–”

“I would love to dance with you,” she interrupted again, fighting the blush that spread across her face at how eager she sounded, “that is, if you still cared to partner with me,” she amended.

“There’s nothing I would like more,” her handsome partner said with a heart-stopping grin. Lily couldn’t fight off her own giddy grin, having fallen a little bit in love tonight.

Arm in arm, they made their way back onto the dance floor, just as the orchestra began the starting notes of another waltz. Lily raised her arms into position, as he secured one large hand around her waist, the other clutching her own with reassuring warmth.

They glided, stepped, and twirled their way around the dancefloor, too immersed in one another to notice the dwindling crowd as students made their way back to the dorms. Her partner ended the final set with a graceful dip, letting her back arch as he held her inches above the smooth stone of the dancefloor. They stood there, as if frozen in time, panting chests pressed against each other, both transfixed in the other’s gaze. Slowly, he raised her back up until both her feet were firmly planted on the ground.

Wordlessly, he offered his elbow again and led her from the now empty dance floor. He led her not to the dormitory stairs, as many boys had tried to coax their dates this night, but instead onto a small balcony overlooking the castle grounds, hidden behind a large tapestry.

“How did you know this was here?” she asked with breathless wonder, taking in the view.

“I have my ways,” he responded with a sly smirk that felt extremely familiar. She wracked her brain, trying to place where she’d seen the expression before, but the still active charm kept her in the weird limbo of knowing, but not knowing a person at all.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, firebird,” he said. Lily’s heart kicked into overdrive. Was this it? Was he going to remove his mask and let her know who she had danced with all evening, and fallen for while doing it?

“Me too,” she managed.

“I know it goes against the spirit of the Hogwarts masquerade tradition, anonymity and all, but I’d really like to get to know you. You, you. Not just the masked version of you.”

“I’d like that too,” Lily responded with breathless excitement, heart thundering in her chest.

Slowly, as if not to scare her off, her partner peeled off his mask.

Her heart stopped in her chest.

He looked completely the same, yet entirely different. Golden eyes that sparkled at her with delight, a secret smile– to which she was suddenly privy, slightly disheveled dark hair– suddenly endearing. “Po– Potter?” her voice broke and her heart kicked into overdrive again, this time fueled by a desperate panic. No. He couldn’t be Potter. Her mystery partner wasn’t Potter. It couldn’t be. This was just some cosmic joke. But even as her addled brain desperately tried to reason her way out of it, her traitor heart kept beating with the soul-deep longing she’d felt for him– before he’d removed his mask. It was as if even through six years of school together, she’d never really known him until tonight. And that thought was terrifying.

So without another word, Lily turned and ran.

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A/N: Thank you so so so much to everyone who has read, commented, shared, etc. my little fic! This concludes my first ever Jilytober, and I had such a good time doing it!

Let me know which was your favorite chapter/prompt, and which ones you'd like to see turned into full length fics! xoxo.

@linariouswrites​ @thethistlegirl​ @doubi-ixi​

Cute dragon under the cut

Today’s special: Torture

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Souka fell to his knees in the grass, hands bound in front of him and a large hand in his hair, holding his head up. Souka closed his eyes. This had been a very bad two weeks. Not his worst. His worst had taken place as a child, but this was getting pretty close to that. 

Souka had been kidnapped by a cultish group of wizards to truly begin a war against the First Council. The council had kicked the wizard and elves from their numbers. More specifically, Lord Hendrake had. Really, he was the true villain in all of this. Souka even had reason to believe Lord Hendrake was the one who decided to start all of this in a desperate grab for power.

Needless to say, it was a lot.

Souka had heard all of this second hand from the man who was gripping his hair so tightly. The man who had protected him and made sure he survived these two weeks. A wizard being blackmailed by the others to kill the boy he had been protecting so carefully.

The wizard, Solomir, was shaking. Solomir had really grown to love and care for Souka. Souka knew the man was afraid. The blackmail was bad. It would get him, not only killed, but in dungeons where they would torture him for months. 

“Do it, Solomir,” the head wizard said, eyes pale and soulless. The head wizard contrasted horribly to the calm woods and warming sun. Solomir swallowed and released the boy’s hair to grab Souka’s bound wrists and pull them up over his head. Souka sat perfectly still as the knife was raised into the air. He closed his eyes and focused, keeping his breathing even. He wondered what it would be like to reach the gates of the next world. 

The knife plunged into his chest and he did not scream. He stiffened and then slowly fell limp with a low moan, head lolling onto his aloft arm. Solomir dropped the boy into the grass, a sob catching in his throat. 

The face began to pale. The skin grew paler and paler as the body cooled.

“Check it,” the head wizard said to the female wizard standing by him. She stepped forward, resting her long fingers on forehead, chest, and throat. She stood.

“He’s dead.”

“Good,” the head wizard said, turning. “To the towers. We haven’t much time left.”

The wizards all left, Solomir glancing back uneasily at the very small body laying crumpled in the dirt. The female wizard, unseen by the other wizards, took his hand and led him on, squeezing his cold, bloody fingers lovingly.

Minutes passed. Then a few more, drenched in sunlight and peace. There was a strange breeze through the trees that scared off some investigating crows and the insects in the grass skittered back from the boy’s body.

 Blood began to flow from the shallow wound in the boy’s thin chest. Souka’s dark eyes fluttered open. He took a deep breath and sat up slowly, bound hands supporting him. He steadied himself before snapping the ropes with his teeth as magic started to knit the wound a bit. He stood, pale and feeling quite sick from the forced hibernation he had inflicted on himself to stop his heart and breathing. He leaned on a tree for support, soaking in the sun. He began to make his way through the trees, following a path he had memorized back in Solomir’s room when he and the wizard had been planning this escape. Souka was going to find Anisha. Souka was going to be home. She was going to be so proud of him.

Souka smiled to himself with a sigh of relief as he took small but steady steps through the grass. He was so glad to be left for dead. 

BBC, Sherlock/John

Open prompt: a game of truth and dare.