#sharpuary2026

Professor Sharp learns the benefits of teaching older students who already have 10 years of work experience as a tailor on their resume.

Aesop Sharp and my 20 yo protagonist, Esther.

For a fic I'll probably never actually finish much less post. XD

Hello everyone! It's that time of year again to dust off the keyboards, pens, pencils, papers, and drawing pads for the annual Sharpuary 2026! Reblog and tag anyone you think might be interested.

Below is a low-pressure prompt list for every day of February for anyone interested in participating :)

Suggestions: Bring your art, sketches, drabbles, headcanons, epics, and more for Aesop Sharp! There is a prompt available for every day of February, but feel free to participate in as many or as few days as you'd like. Share on your platform of choice, and tag #Sharpuary2026. Have fun, be kind, and Happy New Year!

Bravery

Horcrux

Library

Forbidden

Possession

Intimate

Howler

Cloak

Mistletoe

New Year

Addict

Diagon Alley

Vulnerable

Gender-swap

Heartbeat

Beedle the Bard

Public Speaking

Combat

Mentorship

Thestral

Starstruck

Empathy

Mirage

Azkaban

Felix Felicis

Revelio

Revenge

Spectacle

@mrs-sharp @ladyelizabethraven @aesopsharpmybeloved @coolmiaw @julietpricee

Sharpuary day 6: Intimate

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @illiana-mystery, @mikey-darinstar, @abaddon-queenof-hell

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

AN: Sorry im late. things got hectic. Here I am now though.

Aesop panted as his hips thrust up into me. My fingers curled into his chest hair as I moaned. His fingers dug into my thighs, sure to leave bruises in their wake. My head hung forward as I let out a strangled cry, orgasm washing over me. Aesop's breath hitched as he followed me over the edge. I slowed, legs bracketing his hips.

"Damn." He breathed, hands running over my rapidly cooling skin. "You really didn't hold back." I laughed as I let myself fall forward. Aesop cradled me close as he gently slipped out of me.

I just found this event and decided to take part, I hope you enjoy my little fic/drabble! :)

Idle sounds of chatter fill the library on a sunny afternoon, students studying while others are merely there as a cover to goof off. If they noticed the professor stalking the rows upon rows of books, they made sure they didn't. What the strict professor did with his free time was up to him, and no one wanted to be reminded of coursework or of their merlin forbid, shortcomings in class.

Professor Sharp wanders down a row of shelves, scanning the titles as he goes. He's searched through almost every book here, but that's not good enough. There has to be a cure somewhere...there just has to be. His blasted leg—a reminder of his failure as an auror—was a stain upon his entire being. He would not like to be considered a cripple for his entire life, nor would he even consider using the damn wheelchair St. Mungo's gave him. It's sheer embarrassment and his pride will not allow himself to appear weak.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78728611

Aesop Sharp despised bravery.

Not because it was a bad trait, but because he had seen it equated with recklessness too often. Because he had seen too many people for whom bravery led to arrogance rather than humility. Because he knew people who believed that bravery alone was enough to survive and who therefore did not think about what they were doing.

And he knew those who had thought about it and still lost their lives. This was his point of view, and he had no doubts about it. At least, he had been convinced of this until Elaine came into his life.

He had seen her fight. Elaine did not fight to prove anything to others or herself. Nor did she fight to teach others a lesson. She did not do it for recognition or praise.

When she fought, she did so to protect. To defend those who couldn't do it themselves and to preserve what really mattered to her. When Elaine fought, she didn't just do it with her body or her magic, she did it with her entire consciousness, with all the passion and desperation she had inside her. Sometimes it wore her down until there was hardly anything left of her, and yet she refused to give up. Witnessing this caused a part of his convictions to crumble each time, until they became unstable, even though he didn't want to admit it.

He had seen her fear.Sometimes it seemed to him that she perceived everything more intensely than others. She loved, she mourned, she doubted, she longed, she always feared a little too much, and at the same time he admired that. It was as if she passed on some of the beautiful and tender feelings to others, while she seemed to take the cruel ones away from their shoulders and minds, so that they could walk more easily. Meanwhile, her own fear was sometimes so intense that Elaine threatened to disappear into it, and yet she always managed to overcome it, to swim free from the flood until she was gliding along on gentle waves again.

He had seen how she was on the verge of giving up and then found the strength to keep going from somewhere. How she sometimes disappeared into herself and he didn't know if she was still there, and then she kept finding a reason not to give up, even though the past had taught her so often that it was hopeless.

I’ve missed like most of these but here we are. Touch starved Sharp is touch starved.

…

“And remember your essay on your chosen elixir is due *this Friday,*” he calls out over the din of students hastily packing up their things, stowing their tools and cauldrons in attempts to get out of the dungeons as quickly as possible, before they have to admit they actually heard any of the reminders Sharp was giving them. “And if you haven’t chosen an elixir or had one approved by me yet, I struggle to imagine why you’ve chosen potions for this period at all…”

The last of the seventh years empty through the narrow door into the corridor, including Garreth Weasley (eventually) whom Sharp not so subtly shepherds away while he rambles excitedly about his elixir, how he’s sure the potions master will surely be impressed, it’s much more novel than the rest of the students—just wait until…

The room has cleared. The light bubbling of the stray, leftover draught is the only thing that breaks the abrupt silence of the stone chamber. Late afternoon sunlight filters in through the frosted panes of the great window at the far end of the room, murky from the class, slashing uneven beams along the table and chair sat just in front of it. He can just see the glint of his old badge resting near its edge. He lets out a breath.

“Did we get too out of hand today?”

He turns his head. Ava is walking toward him slowly, casually, satchel slung over her shoulder, lips curled in a half smile.

Day 5! Today's word: possession.

I'm sure people thought of this as either ghostly/imperious possession or the possessive nature of a lover, but i thought of all things, a possession of his. And what better than his cane? I saw another post talking about his room and the cane and wheelchair, and how he took his privacy seriously because of them, not wanting to bother anyone or show how often he relied on them. Certainly he doesn't let anyone see it outside of his room, he takes whatever he can for pain and deals with his day best he can without it. I don't think it's as hard anymore, perhaps for the bad days like anyone with a chronic illness might tell you. Sometimes things come and go.

I imagine, after his injury and the long recovery period, he was taken to find a cane to use for himself or given one by the nurses to use. Despite it being a constant reminder of his failures or arrogance, i think he did come to see it as an extension of himself and was thankful for the relief it brought using it. It's a strong warning though, something to take heed of... Don't let yourself get too reckless again.

Sharpuary day 7: Howler

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @illiana-mystery, @mikey-darinstar, @abaddon-queenof-hell

warnings: swearing

The red envelope sat on the table in front of me. It had arrived early this morning with the owl post. I had sent it to my office as soon as I had seen it. Aesop had given me a look when he saw it. I flinched when I heard the door open and close behind me.

“Still haven’t opened it?” He asked as he came to stand next to me. I shook my head. “You know it is only going to get worse the longer you wait to open it.” I nodded again.