Lil Awshums

Hogwarts Legacy Asks and RP | 18+ leawshum's little gremlins

[ask-lil-awshums]

Well, hello.

This is an ask/RP blog for @leawshum 's OCs! Everything here will be answered in character, and I ask that you direct any personal or OOC asks to my main.

Please, feel free to interact with AU versions of any of my characters as well. (i.e. I fully intend to do Modern!AU versions of everyone eventually.) Just be sure to specify it's for that AU, or I'll just respond with their canon persons in mind.

That being said, this is not exactly canon. I will draw from their canon personalities, but it's for fun. So responses will be a little more freeform.

General Rules

OOC posts will be tagged [#ooc].

This blog is 18+, and all my characters will be aged accordingly for that purpose. So, that would be putting most of them at 18, with Adam at 19 and Julian at 20.

With this^ in mind, please still be mindful of the mature content you send. If I find something uncomfortable or offensive, it will just go unanswered. This goes for asks and RP.

Most characters are HL era, but feel free to ask for their responses for whichever era you choose, or for your own canon situations. I don't mind some fun hypotheticals.

I will tag [#le canon] and [#le canon divergent] as needed to not confuse anyone who's reading their fics or are already familiar with the character.

Freeform as it may be, they will respond how they would normally respond, regardless of whether the topic is canon.

If you have questions about specific boundaries or if you want to ask about certain RP before you send, please feel free to message me. My inbox is always open here and on my main.

MCs/OCs

HL

🐦‍⬛ Westley Orion

🦁 Julian Walker

🦁 Tristan Alvarez

🦡 Adam Simpson

🦡 Frances Laurel

🐍 Lake Juneberry

HP

🐍 Matthias Reed

HL Modern AU

| Inspo Post | kINGjULIAN Insta | Onlyfa-- | TV Maybe | Eventually | Whatever |

[ by @anyahoney ] | Yr Not Invited | Things That You'd Never Expect | DOUBLE TROUBLE |

[ by @thorne-hp ] | smile? |

[ by @traceyc-uk ] | smol gift |

pfp by me. banner designed on Canva.

[ask-lil-awshums]

HOW THE HELL HAS IT BEEN A YEAR?????

Let's play a question game to celebrate! For any of my OCs, even if you know one that isn't listed here yet.

(I can't find a list I like, so send me whatever you want. )

[ask-lil-awshums]

One evening, as Adam gets home after a long day of work. A wooden box is standing on the kitchen table with a note on it. Inside the chonky box are a few large and small stones and pebbles, some with funny shapes, others visibly hand painted with care, and some similar to precious stones.

"Darling,

Did you know that some species of penguin gift pebbles to their partner as a courtship ritual ? Though mostly for survival purposes as to build their nest, they will still take the time to carefully select them for their size and shape.

I'm not saying we are penguins. But I thought these would be a nice addition to your garden.

Affectionately,

Oliver."

The box caught Adam's attention the moment he stepped into the kitchen for his morning tea. He glimpsed over note with a fond smile before setting it aside and poking around at the array of stones. 

“Tristan!”

His husband popped into the kitchen behind him, adjusting the top of his Auror blacks. 

“What's this?” Tristan asked curiously. “Why do we have a box of stones?”

Adam pushed the little crate his direction with a grin. “Pick your three favourite.”

Tristan eyed him incredulously but did as he was told. He selected one larger, more decorative piece, a jade pebble rather close to the color of Adam's eyes, and a broken bit of stone about the same color blue as Oliver's eyes. Adam’s chest ached with the sweetness of it, and he told Tristan to put them on the shelf by the door.

The rest, he took outside to a tiny clearing within the garden, levitating and arranging them to look—he hoped—like a penguin. 

Tristan burst through the door with a brilliant smile, bounding up to Adam and tiptoeing to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“I have to be off, but you better squish him extra hard if he’s home before me.”

The blond only laughed and pulled his mobile from his pocket, clicking Oliver's name from his scattered texts.

[You're precious.]

[leawshum]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WESTLEY.

Please, enjoy your non-descript food blobs and rejoice.

(Yes, Julian also got food for Westley's birthday. Because it's the only way to ensure Wes actually gets a full plate.)

[ask-lil-awshums]

Westley! Hey, how’s it going, my dude? Is it cool if I call you that? Cool cool cool 😎 I’m going to just pretend you said yes.

Anywhoooo, Damien asked me to reach out about something a bit odd. Michelle Kwan or Tara Lipinski? I think he’s referring to the Olympics. Figure skating, to be precise. Like, um, the 1996 championships, maybe? 🤔 I’m not quite sure. I’m also not entirely positive why he wants to know your answer, but he said I had to ask, so here I am.

Eagerly anticipating your answer. 🙃

Corinne, dear, I think I may have given Damien the wrong impression in my response to certain videos he's sent me. I'm afraid I know next to nothing about actual ice skating. However, I'd be a sorry excuse for a Ravenclaw if I didn't do the bare minimum research. Soo...Tara? 13 is quite young to have accomplished such a feat. If this isn't quite the answer he was looking for, I do apologise. -Westley P.S. This is not to be used as an excuse to stop sending me previously mentioned videos. Be sure he knows that, please and thank you.

[ask-lil-awshums]

Matthias,

First of all, how are you doing? It has been a little while since we last saw each other. I hope you’re doing alright.

I wanted to talk to you about getting some shots of Molly for her birthday coming up. My daughter Molly, not my mother-in-law. Merlin, I regret not putting up more of a fight with her name.

Please get back to me as soon as you can.

With love,

Victoria Weasley

@goldengirlvic

Victoria, I've been well enough. Same old, and such. Though, I was dragged off to The Burrow without you or Harry present this past weekend. I nearly questioned my beliefs on the afterlife and reconsidered whether I made the right choice abandoning the church. I am writing you, and therefore did not die. However, I may need to reevaluate my ability to tell Molly "no.' (Molly your mother-in-law, of course. I'm afraid your daughter has me permanently wrapped around her little finger.) You hardly have to ask. I'd be happy to. Just let me know what you're thinking. Well wishes, Matt

[ask-lil-awshums]

Julian, who's in charge of decorating the camp for Halloween? I keep stumbling upon Ashwinder camps with pumpkin lanterns! I never looked too close because I do have a sense of self-preservation. Have you carved a pumpkin when you were little?

Hello, darling.

Charles happens to be in charge of the Halloween decorations. And no, before you even ask, I don't have the foggiest why that twit keeps being put in charge of anything.

Apparently, when the holiday is over, he likes to try to keep a few of the lanterns stored away for his own happy keepsake. Charles is shite at preservation charms.

Care to take a guess where some of my missing post has gone? Have you guessed 'inside the rotting pumpkins'? Kudos. How the fuck was I supposed to assume my post had been stored in a putrid lantern, months later? I will not pretend to understand what goes through that man's mind.

And yes, I did. A few times, at least. I was never any good at it.

Anyway.

Apologies for the late return, love. And perhaps also if it smells even remotely like rank produce.

-JW

[ask-felix-aberg]

Åberg,

Did I send you a goat, by chance? Or maybe four of them? Can't find the damned things and Wes was insisting I sent you at least one, possibly under the wrong name. 

If I did, keep it, by all means. It's only driving me mad that I don't know what I did with them. 

-J

P.S. Update: Apparently I hid the other three. Wes said the lads wouldn't stop bopping their noses and the sound was like a dying cat. Apologies if I subjected you to the same horror.

Julian! So it was you!

Yes, one goat did, in fact, arrive. Under a name that is still, regrettably, not mine. :( (Though still impressively close enough that I didn't question it at first.)

In my defence, the envelope looked as though it had already been through several emotional breakdowns, and I was in the middle of preventing my scrambled eggs from becoming collateral damage. I realised my mistake slightly too late, I'm afraid.

Only after reading far enough to understand I should very much not be reading it at all...

I felt rather dreadful about it. It was not intentional. I apologise.

The charm is currently in safe custody. Assuming it was a postal error, and not knowing any Alix in our midst, I passed the envelope to a Prefect to be redirected properly. I hope I haven't disrupted your… herd.

So, if the charm has not yet returned to you, it is currently somewhere within what I very sincerely hope is a reliable school postal system.

For what it's worth, I can confirm the goat does, indeed, bleat! I thought it was rather sweet.

And before you ask: No, I did not bop it. …more than once.

Again, I apologise if I've complicated matters. Your craftsmanship however - even in what you describe as a less-than-sober state - is very impressive, Julian! The one-and-a-half horns might be my favourite feature. Though I can't help feeling slightly cheated at only meeting one charm so far.

Felix

P.S. Did you, by any chance, send one to Rupert?

[ask-lil-awshums]

A modest parcel arrives in the morning post. Attached is an envelope, crisp and pristine aside from the large red script with Felix's name (underlined) and the accompanying doodles of poorly drawn goats.

Åberg, No, mate. I can promise, that was entirely intended for you. I don't think I've ever known any Alixs or Feburgs. As for the state of the envelope (which is back in my possession), I've got no clue what in God's name happened. I certainly managed to do a number on it. To be fair, you should've seen my room the next morning. It faired no better. I have to admit, I couldn't even remember what the little fella looked like until he found his way here again. I'm glad you liked him so much. I'm sending him back to you, along with his brothers. May your fellow students never know peace. Regarding Rupert, I've got a special, particularly annoying little niffler planned for him. Don't you worry. -J

Inside the parcel resides a returned goat charm, along with his three brothers.

One has no horns, his eyes veer two different directions, and he doesn't 'bleat' so much as he squawks.

The second has a head significantly smaller than its body, and the body is...robust, to say the least. His face seems almost accurate, even in it's tiny nature. He sounds a bit like a mouse.

And the third is... Well, it's something. It is a goat. Probably. It could also be a hell spawn of some variety. Three horns, incredibly uneven eyes, and it looks a bit like it's screaming in horror. This is where the dying cat comparison seems to come in to play.

[moonstonesandemma]

"Merlin, the wind is picking up."

"So as I was saying, Julian and I were stuck in the Camp, and he—"

*Hufflepuff processing*

"What were you saying?"

"That I'm the luckiest girl in the Highlands."

EVERYONE PRETEND THAT IT IS JANUARY 20TH AND THAT I'M POSTING THIS ON TIME

This literally took me three hours to do. Actually more than that because I accidentally exited OTIS without saving the poses. It's worth it for my girl Aquaria though!

This is my first time doing multiple poses and like a scene and I'm super tired now lmfao. Thank you so much @girl-named-matty for letting me use your boy Andrew (he loves his wife) and for @leawshum for being a huge support to me and for giving Aquaria a brother (that LOOOOOVES HERRRRRRRRRRRR)

I would like super appreciate if y'all reblogged! Thank you all for listening to my rablings if you made it this far haha

[ask-lil-awshums]

Slander.

[moonstonesandemma]

Aquaria Macmillan (Victoria Moonrider, Little Bit, Absolute Pain In the Arse),

I've come to acknowledge, loathe as I am to admit it, that I love you. You are a friend I hadn't expected to make, least of all during some of the darkest days of my life. You are chaotic and reckless and stupid and spoiled and brave.

You are my sister, Aquaria. You are a light in my life, and I wouldn't change that for anything.

Gross. I said it. Don't expect to hear it again.

Happy Birthday,

Julian

P.S. The box is a bit heavy. I could've charmed it to be lighter, but well, what would be the fun in that? Having this hand-delivered. No sense in punishing an owl for your transgressions.

P.P.S. I kept the first one.

Attached to the letter is a parcel. Inside lay several battered padlocks, some enchanted, some only half so. A date is engraved into each one, presumably of the day it was left abandoned in Julian's room.

Tucked into the corner is a small glass jar, wrapped in a protective padding. Inside the jar, a rush of infinitely swirling water that almost shimmers in the light. It makes a sound entirely distinguishable as a running creek, steady and consistent. A tiny, crescent moon pendant is attached to the lip of the jar.

As surprised as she was to see a letter delivered to her, from Julian, on her birthday, the contents of the letter absolutely blew Aquaria out of the water.

He called her his sister.

He said that he loved her.

Aquaria read the letter once, and then read it again just to make sure she got it right. Yup. He said he loved her. Said she was a pain in the arse too, but that wasn't anything new.

The padlocks were simple enough for her to unlock, they looked like the same ones she enchanted to unlock on their own when with the Ashwinders. Gently, she picked up the jar, the sound reminding her of the night by the creek where they formed an alliance between each other. He even included the moon that lit up the bank.

"If you fall, I fall." Julian had told her.

In one single evening, he went from an obnoxious prick she was sure was out to kill her to an extremely obnoxious prick who had her back.

One who still had her back, even after all these years.

Aquaria looked up from the parchment and grinned as Julian tried to sneak away. "Yeah, I don't think so. Get your arse over here Walker and tell me how much you lo-oooooo-ve me."

[leawshum]

Hey Julian~

What's cookin', good-looking? 😌

Not me. I'm permanently banned from the kitchen.

- JW

[leawshum]

GUESS WHOSE BIRTHDAY IS TODAY??

(ft. Anissa Basil's jewelry) @anyahoney

[theladyofshalott1989]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JULIAN!!!!! Damien and I wouldn’t want to have a birthday sandwich with anyone else. 😂🤣😂

[ask-lil-awshums]

[ask-felix-aberg]

Tomorrow evening. You. Me. Hogsmeade. Bring a niffler. Don't ask questions.

He lifted his brows as his eyes skimmed the short lines again. Felix turned the parchment over in his hands, searching for a signature or even a hint of the sender's handwriting, but found nothing. His mouth pulled into a small frown, curiosity sparking despite himself as the folded slip revealed no answers at all.

"Don't ask questions," he read aloud under his breath, though questions were all he seemed to have. Where in Hogsmeade was he supposed to meet them? The place was hardly small. And how was he supposed to know who to look for? He always stopped to chat when he ran into someone he knew. It could take him almost an hour to reach the Three Broomsticks on a normal day. There was no guarantee he'd spot the right person before wasting half the evening.

And a Niffler? For what purpose? His eyes narrowed faintly in thought. Borrowing Charlie was out of the question - Wren would never allow that, despite their long friendship, especially not for something this vague and more than a little suspicious.

Felix sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

He let the parchment rest against his knee, staring at it for a long moment. What would happen if he simply didn't show up? Would the mysterious sender be disappointed? Was it even a friend? Or, though he could hardly imagine it, a foe? He wasn't entirely sure he even had one.

So many questions. Too many. And yet he couldn't deny that little flicker of excitement curling in his chest.

His gaze drifted back to his bed, where a small teal Niffler plushie rested comfortably against his pillow. His brothers had sent it only a few days ago. Not, he suspected, because it reminded them of him, but with the very clear suggestion that he should fill its pouch with sweets and send it back for them to raid.

Felix picked it up, thumb brushing across the soft fabric. "Well," he tilted his head slightly, lips twitching into the beginnings of an uncertain smile. "they didn't exactly specify what kind of Niffler… right?"

It probably wasn't a good idea. And yet, the Ravenclaw wasn't entirely convinced it was a bad one, either.

[ask-lil-awshums]

Julian was perched on one of the jagged little stone walls just outside Hogsmeade, a lit cigarette pinched between his lips and a chain fidgeting between his fingers. His eyes lit up when they finally landed on Felix.

“Oh, hell," the former Ashwinder barked a laugh, smoke puffing from his mouth in the most inelegant way imaginable. “You actually showed. Are you insane, Åberg? That letter coulda been from anyone!” His head quirked to the side, an eyebrow raised as he appraised the man’s tiny ride-along. 

“This is the niffler you brought?” he chuckled, vanishing the ashen remainders of his cigarette. “Merlin, alright. We’ll make it work. ‘Think I gotta charm that could get it to dance.”

Julian’s grin softened, and he dropped the chain back in his pocket before reaching out—almost hesitantly—to shake Felix’s hand.

“Been a while, yeah?”

[ask-felix-aberg]

The Ravenclaw slowed as he spotted the figure on the wall, the faint curl of smoke rising into the evening air. Julian looked unchanged and yet altered - his grin the same crooked line Felix remembered, though now it seemed to carry more weight, more history.

A faint huff of breath slipped past Felix' lips at the greeting, half a laugh, half nerves he didn't care to name.

"Possibly. But curiosity has always been a bad habit of mine," he admitted as his hand dipped to the small plushie tucked carefully under his arm. He held it up with a tilt of his mouth. "And yes. This is the Niffler. What did you expect? That I'd really drag Charlie out? I'd be hexed into next week by Wren before we even reached the gate."

The flicker of hesitation in Julian's hand didn't go unnoticed as Felix stepped closer. So rather than reaching for it straight away, the blond nudged the plushy menace gently against Julian's palm, as though the little Niffler itself were offering him a handshake. His lips tugged into a smile, playfulness sparking briefly in his eyes.

"It has," he said softly, lowering the toy before clasping his friend's hand properly - firm and steady, a squeeze from the heart. "Far too long." His smile spread wide and bright.

For a moment, his gaze flicked past Julian, towards the village lights in the distance, before returning. "So… a dancing Niffler plush, then. That's what I came all this way for?" His lips curved, not quite a grin. "You'll have to show me the charm. I'm curious to see it."

[ask-lil-awshums]

“It’s adorable,” a cheeky grin split Julian’s face. “And I hadn’t even expected you to show, let alone bring a beast with you.” 

And yet he had sat there, waiting. Not expected, no. But he’d obviously still hoped.

“Not squeamish about the Hog’s Head, I hope?” Julian stood from his dilapidated seat and nodded for Felix to follow.

“I had another niffler in mind, actually. But I was informed she may assault me if I tried to dance with her,” he clicked his tongue. “I can only imagine what that would be like, and I have no desire to verify.” 

Julian glanced over his shoulder with a contemplative frown. “Might be best you brought that instead. Oughta make for a better show than a waltz with a live one.” He paused, reconsidering his words. “I should clarify, I never intended to use this charm on a live niffler. It’s just a backup plan for a missing furry dance partner.” 

Black curls bounced as they weaved through the evening crowd. Whatever sliver of Gryffindor remained within Julian refused to let him cow his head, but he couldn’t quite meet the eyes of anyone they passed, either. A frustrating habit he’d picked up, as of late. He shot a smile back every once in a while to be sure Felix was still behind him. The street was oddly busy, even for a Friday.

“I actually learned the spell from—ah…this knobbish fellow I used to know. Charles. Charmed a roast chicken to entertain a dinner party. The twit couldn’t get it to stop, though.” Another cheeky grin flashed over his shoulder. “I fixed that bit of the spellwork. No worries.”

The bemused smile plastered on Åberg’s face sent a wash of embarrassment through him. “I, ah—I feel like I’m talkin’ a lot. How’ve you been?”

Felix hadn’t seemed to change much at all. Julian wondered, as they neared their destination, if his own changes were as obvious as they felt. A deformed shadow clinging to his person.

[ask-felix-aberg]

Felix fell into step easily, the little Niffler plush slipped into his pocket, where its stitched head peeked just above the edge. The bustle of the street pressed in around them, but his attention stayed fixed ahead, listening to Julian's voice threaded through the evening noise.

"The Hog's Head?" the boy echoed after a moment, lips twitching faintly. "I've never been. Heard rumours it's best to stay away unless you mean business. Still…" his head tilted slightly, as though he was trying to picture it, "I'm curious to see what they actually have on the menu."

A pair of older witches swept past, and his shoulder brushed Julian's in the narrow gap left behind. Felix glanced sideways at the other boy, catching the flicker of discomfort, and gave a small shake of his head, his expression gentling as though to wave it off. "You don't have to apologise. I like hearing you talk."

They walked on a few paces, the evening air thick with chatter and the rich scent of butterbeer spilling from the Three Broomsticks nearby. Felix slipped his hand briefly against the outline of the plushie in his pocket, thumb brushing across the stitched snout. "I've been alright," he answered at last.

"Busy, mostly. Seventh year… you know how it is. Like everybody, I suppose." His mouth tightened faintly as he went on, a shadow crossing his face. "Days blur into lessons and assignments, and before you know it, weeks have gone by without sitting down properly with the people who matter."

His eyes kept following the glow of lanterns swinging overhead, until he turned his head just enough to catch Julian's. "It's good to see you again," he said, his voice softening.

When his gaze shifted forward again, the weathered sign of the Hog's Head came into view, swaying faintly above the crooked doorway ahead. He tipped his chin toward it, eyes flicking back to Julian with a quiet breath of amusement. "I guess this is it?"

[ask-lil-awshums]

“Seventh sounds rather dull. I spared myself the agony, apparently,” Julian’s tone was more clipped than intended. “Days blurring together, though…I get it,” he fought back a grimace, cleared his throat. “If this goes as—well, mostly—as planned, I should be able to snag us a round or two, if you’re keen.”

The door to the Hog’s Head swung open with its usual triad of squeaks: one from the top hinge, two from the bottom. Julian’s eyes skimmed the room, a check for potential trouble and his intended target. He leaned a bit closer to Felix, his voice low.

“Oh, and ah—I wouldn’t put too much faith in that menu,” Julian said with a conspiratorial wink. A flicker of concern crossed Felix’s face. Brief, but certainly not unnoticed. Julian’s grin widened. 

“Mate, we’re here for a dancing niffler. Not to stuff our faces,” he chuckled. “If you wanna bite after, we’d be better off in Sirona’s hands, yeah?” Julian’s gaze remained fixed on the scraggly waif of a man in the corner as he guided the blonde to the back of the establishment. 

“S'good to see you again, too, by the way,” he said quietly, smiling in earnest now.

Before reaching the table, Julian held his hand out expectantly, waiting for Felix to hand over their miniature friend. The niffler was placed at the center of the table, and Julian propped his hands on his hips with a sharp grin. 

“Rupert,” the former Ashwinder said cheerily.

“Walker.” Rupert glanced down at the plush, then back to Julian with a vexed scowl. “The hell is this?”

[ask-felix-aberg]

Felix followed close behind, slipping through the crooked doorway as Julian held it open. The door's hinges protested in a series of squeaks, and he caught himself flinching slightly at the sound. For a brief moment, he hesitated on the threshold, his brow furrowing faintly - perhaps in quiet question or mild concern - but the look faded the instant Julian glanced back at him.

The Hog's Head wasn't quite what he'd expected - more shadows than space, more dust than decor - but the familiarity with which Julian navigated through it made the tavern feel less hostile. Cosy, in a strange sort of way. Felix could almost imagine his father saying a place like this had "character", though that would've been the generous word for it.

"Deal," he murmured quietly in response to the promise of a drink later, lips twitching into a faint grin. "Can't turn down a meal after a show, can I?"

He followed the other boy deeper inside, the heavy scent of wood smoke and ale hanging in the air. When Julian greeted the man at the back, Felix offered a small, polite nod. "Evening."

His gaze wandered after, drawn briefly to the crooked frames on the wall, the cloudy glasses, and the faint glimmer of candlelight dancing against the bottles lined behind the counter.

It was the sudden pause in their conversation that brought his attention back. Felix' eyes darted between Julian and Rupert before realisation hit him. "Oh, right" he said quickly, hand fumbling briefly in his pocket before pulling the slightly squished plush free and setting it gently in the middle of the table as though it were the guest of honour.

He took one step back, watching the two men over the soft flicker of the candle between them. Julian's energy had a certain edge to it now, and the Ravenclaw couldn't quite tell if it was nerves or anticipation - or both. Either way, he thought it best to stay quiet, for now, and see what exactly he had walked into.

[ask-lil-awshums]

“Uh-uh. S’not a bloody niffler,” Rupert laughed bitterly. “Nah. No deal.”

Julian blinked, amber eyes glinting gold in the low light as he glanced at the plush, then back at the old man. “Ru, mate. Not sure how much attention you gave beasts class, but that is most definitely a niffler.”

“Didn’t think you’d get a real one to dance, nevermind whatever the hell this is,” Rupert barked, gesturing to their little buddy and Felix in one sweep. “Dragged this young lad with ya. Wastin’ both our time, I think.”

“Rupert. If I wanted to waste your time, you’d have no idea it was happenin’,” Julian raised an eyebrow in challenge, hand over his heart in mock offense. “Thought you knew me better.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, but the upward tick of his mouth was unmistakable. “Fine. Show off or get out of my face, Walker.”

Brilliant. 

Now…To hoping it actually worked. He drew his wand, flashing Felix a quick smile. A bright spark of pink collided with the tiny niffler’s back, knocking it onto its face. Unruly black ringlets fell into his eyes as he stared down at it, waiting for it to do…anything.

This revised version of the charm worked on a wooden doll, and the original worked on a roast. What was different? Had he not properly accounted for the density of the toy, maybe? Or was the…aliveness of the object a factor? The chicken was obviously very alive before it became dinner. And the doll…Was wood more alive than cotton fiber? Maybe? 

“Walker,” Rupert sighed. Julian raised a finger to silence him. 

No. Intent. He should’ve tried harder. Julian leveled the prostrated plush with a glare, daring it to continue disobeying. Still nothing.

Then, a wiggle. A twitch of its tail. 

It was on its feet with a pop, arms swinging jubilantly and toes tapping across the scuffed oak. Poor thing had absolutely no rhythm. Triumph painted Julian’s face in a cheek-aching grin.

“That is not dancing,” Rupert wheezed. 

“Hey now! I never promised talent,” Julian defended sympathetically. “Dancing comes from the heart, Ru. He’s trying.” 

Beside him, Felix covered his mouth to stifle a snort as the little fella’s thrashing grew more erratic. If it could sweat, Julian was sure the table would be drenched. Another pale spark hit the niffler’s back, and its fuzzy tush spun to a stop on the worn varnish.

The old man eyed Julian for a long time. His gaze flicked to Felix, then back to Julian, who only raised an eyebrow. With a non-committal grunt, he tossed a small coin sack on the table. The former Ashwinder pocketed the sack with a soft clink, his grin growing sharper.

Rupert locked eyes with Felix once more, wagging a pointed finger his direction. “Never,” he emphasized, jabbing his other finger Julian’s way. “Never make a drunken wager with this lout.”

[ask-felix-aberg]

Tomorrow evening. You. Me. Hogsmeade. Bring a niffler. Don't ask questions.

He lifted his brows as his eyes skimmed the short lines again. Felix turned the parchment over in his hands, searching for a signature or even a hint of the sender's handwriting, but found nothing. His mouth pulled into a small frown, curiosity sparking despite himself as the folded slip revealed no answers at all.

"Don't ask questions," he read aloud under his breath, though questions were all he seemed to have. Where in Hogsmeade was he supposed to meet them? The place was hardly small. And how was he supposed to know who to look for? He always stopped to chat when he ran into someone he knew. It could take him almost an hour to reach the Three Broomsticks on a normal day. There was no guarantee he'd spot the right person before wasting half the evening.

And a Niffler? For what purpose? His eyes narrowed faintly in thought. Borrowing Charlie was out of the question - Wren would never allow that, despite their long friendship, especially not for something this vague and more than a little suspicious.

Felix sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

He let the parchment rest against his knee, staring at it for a long moment. What would happen if he simply didn't show up? Would the mysterious sender be disappointed? Was it even a friend? Or, though he could hardly imagine it, a foe? He wasn't entirely sure he even had one.

So many questions. Too many. And yet he couldn't deny that little flicker of excitement curling in his chest.

His gaze drifted back to his bed, where a small teal Niffler plushie rested comfortably against his pillow. His brothers had sent it only a few days ago. Not, he suspected, because it reminded them of him, but with the very clear suggestion that he should fill its pouch with sweets and send it back for them to raid.

Felix picked it up, thumb brushing across the soft fabric. "Well," he tilted his head slightly, lips twitching into the beginnings of an uncertain smile. "they didn't exactly specify what kind of Niffler… right?"

It probably wasn't a good idea. And yet, the Ravenclaw wasn't entirely convinced it was a bad one, either.

[ask-lil-awshums]

Julian was perched on one of the jagged little stone walls just outside Hogsmeade, a lit cigarette pinched between his lips and a chain fidgeting between his fingers. His eyes lit up when they finally landed on Felix.

“Oh, hell," the former Ashwinder barked a laugh, smoke puffing from his mouth in the most inelegant way imaginable. “You actually showed. Are you insane, Åberg? That letter coulda been from anyone!” His head quirked to the side, an eyebrow raised as he appraised the man’s tiny ride-along. 

“This is the niffler you brought?” he chuckled, vanishing the ashen remainders of his cigarette. “Merlin, alright. We’ll make it work. ‘Think I gotta charm that could get it to dance.”

Julian’s grin softened, and he dropped the chain back in his pocket before reaching out—almost hesitantly—to shake Felix’s hand.

“Been a while, yeah?”

[ask-felix-aberg]

The Ravenclaw slowed as he spotted the figure on the wall, the faint curl of smoke rising into the evening air. Julian looked unchanged and yet altered - his grin the same crooked line Felix remembered, though now it seemed to carry more weight, more history.

A faint huff of breath slipped past Felix' lips at the greeting, half a laugh, half nerves he didn't care to name.

"Possibly. But curiosity has always been a bad habit of mine," he admitted as his hand dipped to the small plushie tucked carefully under his arm. He held it up with a tilt of his mouth. "And yes. This is the Niffler. What did you expect? That I'd really drag Charlie out? I'd be hexed into next week by Wren before we even reached the gate."

The flicker of hesitation in Julian's hand didn't go unnoticed as Felix stepped closer. So rather than reaching for it straight away, the blond nudged the plushy menace gently against Julian's palm, as though the little Niffler itself were offering him a handshake. His lips tugged into a smile, playfulness sparking briefly in his eyes.

"It has," he said softly, lowering the toy before clasping his friend's hand properly - firm and steady, a squeeze from the heart. "Far too long." His smile spread wide and bright.

For a moment, his gaze flicked past Julian, towards the village lights in the distance, before returning. "So… a dancing Niffler plush, then. That's what I came all this way for?" His lips curved, not quite a grin. "You'll have to show me the charm. I'm curious to see it."

[ask-lil-awshums]

“It’s adorable,” a cheeky grin split Julian’s face. “And I hadn’t even expected you to show, let alone bring a beast with you.” 

And yet he had sat there, waiting. Not expected, no. But he’d obviously still hoped.

“Not squeamish about the Hog’s Head, I hope?” Julian stood from his dilapidated seat and nodded for Felix to follow.

“I had another niffler in mind, actually. But I was informed she may assault me if I tried to dance with her,” he clicked his tongue. “I can only imagine what that would be like, and I have no desire to verify.” 

Julian glanced over his shoulder with a contemplative frown. “Might be best you brought that instead. Oughta make for a better show than a waltz with a live one.” He paused, reconsidering his words. “I should clarify, I never intended to use this charm on a live niffler. It’s just a backup plan for a missing furry dance partner.” 

Black curls bounced as they weaved through the evening crowd. Whatever sliver of Gryffindor remained within Julian refused to let him cow his head, but he couldn’t quite meet the eyes of anyone they passed, either. A frustrating habit he’d picked up, as of late. He shot a smile back every once in a while to be sure Felix was still behind him. The street was oddly busy, even for a Friday.

“I actually learned the spell from—ah…this knobbish fellow I used to know. Charles. Charmed a roast chicken to entertain a dinner party. The twit couldn’t get it to stop, though.” Another cheeky grin flashed over his shoulder. “I fixed that bit of the spellwork. No worries.”

The bemused smile plastered on Åberg’s face sent a wash of embarrassment through him. “I, ah—I feel like I’m talkin’ a lot. How’ve you been?”

Felix hadn’t seemed to change much at all. Julian wondered, as they neared their destination, if his own changes were as obvious as they felt. A deformed shadow clinging to his person.

[ask-felix-aberg]

Felix fell into step easily, the little Niffler plush slipped into his pocket, where its stitched head peeked just above the edge. The bustle of the street pressed in around them, but his attention stayed fixed ahead, listening to Julian's voice threaded through the evening noise.

"The Hog's Head?" the boy echoed after a moment, lips twitching faintly. "I've never been. Heard rumours it's best to stay away unless you mean business. Still…" his head tilted slightly, as though he was trying to picture it, "I'm curious to see what they actually have on the menu."

A pair of older witches swept past, and his shoulder brushed Julian's in the narrow gap left behind. Felix glanced sideways at the other boy, catching the flicker of discomfort, and gave a small shake of his head, his expression gentling as though to wave it off. "You don't have to apologise. I like hearing you talk."

They walked on a few paces, the evening air thick with chatter and the rich scent of butterbeer spilling from the Three Broomsticks nearby. Felix slipped his hand briefly against the outline of the plushie in his pocket, thumb brushing across the stitched snout. "I've been alright," he answered at last.

"Busy, mostly. Seventh year… you know how it is. Like everybody, I suppose." His mouth tightened faintly as he went on, a shadow crossing his face. "Days blur into lessons and assignments, and before you know it, weeks have gone by without sitting down properly with the people who matter."

His eyes kept following the glow of lanterns swinging overhead, until he turned his head just enough to catch Julian's. "It's good to see you again," he said, his voice softening.

When his gaze shifted forward again, the weathered sign of the Hog's Head came into view, swaying faintly above the crooked doorway ahead. He tipped his chin toward it, eyes flicking back to Julian with a quiet breath of amusement. "I guess this is it?"

[ask-lil-awshums]

“Seventh sounds rather dull. I spared myself the agony, apparently,” Julian’s tone was more clipped than intended. “Days blurring together, though…I get it,” he fought back a grimace, cleared his throat. “If this goes as—well, mostly—as planned, I should be able to snag us a round or two, if you’re keen.”

The door to the Hog’s Head swung open with its usual triad of squeaks: one from the top hinge, two from the bottom. Julian’s eyes skimmed the room, a check for potential trouble and his intended target. He leaned a bit closer to Felix, his voice low.

“Oh, and ah—I wouldn’t put too much faith in that menu,” Julian said with a conspiratorial wink. A flicker of concern crossed Felix’s face. Brief, but certainly not unnoticed. Julian’s grin widened. 

“Mate, we’re here for a dancing niffler. Not to stuff our faces,” he chuckled. “If you wanna bite after, we’d be better off in Sirona’s hands, yeah?” Julian’s gaze remained fixed on the scraggly waif of a man in the corner as he guided the blonde to the back of the establishment. 

“S'good to see you again, too, by the way,” he said quietly, smiling in earnest now.

Before reaching the table, Julian held his hand out expectantly, waiting for Felix to hand over their miniature friend. The niffler was placed at the center of the table, and Julian propped his hands on his hips with a sharp grin. 

“Rupert,” the former Ashwinder said cheerily.

“Walker.” Rupert glanced down at the plush, then back to Julian with a vexed scowl. “The hell is this?”

[ask-felix-aberg]

Tomorrow evening. You. Me. Hogsmeade. Bring a niffler. Don't ask questions.

He lifted his brows as his eyes skimmed the short lines again. Felix turned the parchment over in his hands, searching for a signature or even a hint of the sender's handwriting, but found nothing. His mouth pulled into a small frown, curiosity sparking despite himself as the folded slip revealed no answers at all.

"Don't ask questions," he read aloud under his breath, though questions were all he seemed to have. Where in Hogsmeade was he supposed to meet them? The place was hardly small. And how was he supposed to know who to look for? He always stopped to chat when he ran into someone he knew. It could take him almost an hour to reach the Three Broomsticks on a normal day. There was no guarantee he'd spot the right person before wasting half the evening.

And a Niffler? For what purpose? His eyes narrowed faintly in thought. Borrowing Charlie was out of the question - Wren would never allow that, despite their long friendship, especially not for something this vague and more than a little suspicious.

Felix sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

He let the parchment rest against his knee, staring at it for a long moment. What would happen if he simply didn't show up? Would the mysterious sender be disappointed? Was it even a friend? Or, though he could hardly imagine it, a foe? He wasn't entirely sure he even had one.

So many questions. Too many. And yet he couldn't deny that little flicker of excitement curling in his chest.

His gaze drifted back to his bed, where a small teal Niffler plushie rested comfortably against his pillow. His brothers had sent it only a few days ago. Not, he suspected, because it reminded them of him, but with the very clear suggestion that he should fill its pouch with sweets and send it back for them to raid.

Felix picked it up, thumb brushing across the soft fabric. "Well," he tilted his head slightly, lips twitching into the beginnings of an uncertain smile. "they didn't exactly specify what kind of Niffler… right?"

It probably wasn't a good idea. And yet, the Ravenclaw wasn't entirely convinced it was a bad one, either.

[ask-lil-awshums]

Julian was perched on one of the jagged little stone walls just outside Hogsmeade, a lit cigarette pinched between his lips and a chain fidgeting between his fingers. His eyes lit up when they finally landed on Felix.

“Oh, hell," the former Ashwinder barked a laugh, smoke puffing from his mouth in the most inelegant way imaginable. “You actually showed. Are you insane, Åberg? That letter coulda been from anyone!” His head quirked to the side, an eyebrow raised as he appraised the man’s tiny ride-along. 

“This is the niffler you brought?” he chuckled, vanishing the ashen remainders of his cigarette. “Merlin, alright. We’ll make it work. ‘Think I gotta charm that could get it to dance.”

Julian’s grin softened, and he dropped the chain back in his pocket before reaching out—almost hesitantly—to shake Felix’s hand.

“Been a while, yeah?”

[ask-felix-aberg]

The Ravenclaw slowed as he spotted the figure on the wall, the faint curl of smoke rising into the evening air. Julian looked unchanged and yet altered - his grin the same crooked line Felix remembered, though now it seemed to carry more weight, more history.

A faint huff of breath slipped past Felix' lips at the greeting, half a laugh, half nerves he didn't care to name.

"Possibly. But curiosity has always been a bad habit of mine," he admitted as his hand dipped to the small plushie tucked carefully under his arm. He held it up with a tilt of his mouth. "And yes. This is the Niffler. What did you expect? That I'd really drag Charlie out? I'd be hexed into next week by Wren before we even reached the gate."

The flicker of hesitation in Julian's hand didn't go unnoticed as Felix stepped closer. So rather than reaching for it straight away, the blond nudged the plushy menace gently against Julian's palm, as though the little Niffler itself were offering him a handshake. His lips tugged into a smile, playfulness sparking briefly in his eyes.

"It has," he said softly, lowering the toy before clasping his friend's hand properly - firm and steady, a squeeze from the heart. "Far too long." His smile spread wide and bright.

For a moment, his gaze flicked past Julian, towards the village lights in the distance, before returning. "So… a dancing Niffler plush, then. That's what I came all this way for?" His lips curved, not quite a grin. "You'll have to show me the charm. I'm curious to see it."

[ask-lil-awshums]

“It’s adorable,” a cheeky grin split Julian’s face. “And I hadn’t even expected you to show, let alone bring a beast with you.” 

And yet he had sat there, waiting. Not expected, no. But he’d obviously still hoped.

“Not squeamish about the Hog’s Head, I hope?” Julian stood from his dilapidated seat and nodded for Felix to follow.

“I had another niffler in mind, actually. But I was informed she may assault me if I tried to dance with her,” he clicked his tongue. “I can only imagine what that would be like, and I have no desire to verify.” 

Julian glanced over his shoulder with a contemplative frown. “Might be best you brought that instead. Oughta make for a better show than a waltz with a live one.” He paused, reconsidering his words. “I should clarify, I never intended to use this charm on a live niffler. It’s just a backup plan for a missing furry dance partner.” 

Black curls bounced as they weaved through the evening crowd. Whatever sliver of Gryffindor remained within Julian refused to let him cow his head, but he couldn’t quite meet the eyes of anyone they passed, either. A frustrating habit he’d picked up, as of late. He shot a smile back every once in a while to be sure Felix was still behind him. The street was oddly busy, even for a Friday.

“I actually learned the spell from—ah…this knobbish fellow I used to know. Charles. Charmed a roast chicken to entertain a dinner party. The twit couldn’t get it to stop, though.” Another cheeky grin flashed over his shoulder. “I fixed that bit of the spellwork. No worries.”

The bemused smile plastered on Åberg’s face sent a wash of embarrassment through him. “I, ah—I feel like I’m talkin’ a lot. How’ve you been?”

Felix hadn’t seemed to change much at all. Julian wondered, as they neared their destination, if his own changes were as obvious as they felt. A deformed shadow clinging to his person.

[ask-felix-aberg]

Tomorrow evening. You. Me. Hogsmeade. Bring a niffler. Don't ask questions.

He lifted his brows as his eyes skimmed the short lines again. Felix turned the parchment over in his hands, searching for a signature or even a hint of the sender's handwriting, but found nothing. His mouth pulled into a small frown, curiosity sparking despite himself as the folded slip revealed no answers at all.

"Don't ask questions," he read aloud under his breath, though questions were all he seemed to have. Where in Hogsmeade was he supposed to meet them? The place was hardly small. And how was he supposed to know who to look for? He always stopped to chat when he ran into someone he knew. It could take him almost an hour to reach the Three Broomsticks on a normal day. There was no guarantee he'd spot the right person before wasting half the evening.

And a Niffler? For what purpose? His eyes narrowed faintly in thought. Borrowing Charlie was out of the question - Wren would never allow that, despite their long friendship, especially not for something this vague and more than a little suspicious.

Felix sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

He let the parchment rest against his knee, staring at it for a long moment. What would happen if he simply didn't show up? Would the mysterious sender be disappointed? Was it even a friend? Or, though he could hardly imagine it, a foe? He wasn't entirely sure he even had one.

So many questions. Too many. And yet he couldn't deny that little flicker of excitement curling in his chest.

His gaze drifted back to his bed, where a small teal Niffler plushie rested comfortably against his pillow. His brothers had sent it only a few days ago. Not, he suspected, because it reminded them of him, but with the very clear suggestion that he should fill its pouch with sweets and send it back for them to raid.

Felix picked it up, thumb brushing across the soft fabric. "Well," he tilted his head slightly, lips twitching into the beginnings of an uncertain smile. "they didn't exactly specify what kind of Niffler… right?"

It probably wasn't a good idea. And yet, the Ravenclaw wasn't entirely convinced it was a bad one, either.

[ask-lil-awshums]

Julian was perched on one of the jagged little stone walls just outside Hogsmeade, a lit cigarette pinched between his lips and a chain fidgeting between his fingers. His eyes lit up when they finally landed on Felix.

“Oh, hell," the former Ashwinder barked a laugh, smoke puffing from his mouth in the most inelegant way imaginable. “You actually showed. Are you insane, Åberg? That letter coulda been from anyone!” His head quirked to the side, an eyebrow raised as he appraised the man’s tiny ride-along. 

“This is the niffler you brought?” he chuckled, vanishing the ashen remainders of his cigarette. “Merlin, alright. We’ll make it work. ‘Think I gotta charm that could get it to dance.”

Julian’s grin softened, and he dropped the chain back in his pocket before reaching out—almost hesitantly—to shake Felix’s hand.

“Been a while, yeah?”

[asks-and-magic]

Little Bit,

*Following the greeting is a series of sentences, scratched through and illegible.*

Never mind. I've realized you likely wouldn't have been able to see up there anyway. I'll just ask Wes.

While I have your attention, however, I hope you're in a finer mood than yesterday. Because I need to inform you that marked my 20th cigarette you've abused and/or discarded.

You now owe me a full pack, Princess.

Your unreasonably forgiving friend,

- Jules

King Julian,

I will not buy you cigarettes now or ever. Yes, I have an immense amount of wealth. No, I will not waste it on an object that makes me sick.

Hope this helps!

Your wise and intelligent friend,

—Aquaria Macmillan

[ask-lil-awshums]

Tiny One, I'm not really sure what I did to make you hate me so much. - Jules