My people, I require your expertise for my ongoing Orpheus Kerr’s “been there, done that” list! Since you lot were so helpful with adding OCs to the mix!
That post can be found here.
WHO of the NPC students is the most down bad for my Orpheus Kerr? Because I value the opinion of our community and I wanna know what the people want!
Please Note: I’m leaving the mains off this one… mainly because I want them to be in the friends / chaotic acquaintances / frenemies category for now. So this is strictly: who’s got the biggest thing or done the things with my morally grey Hufflepuff menace?
Not saying Orpheus wouldn’t go for all of them… but I want your votes AND your most devious headcanons in the comments.
Like… hypothetically… Orpheus leading Duncan Hobhouse on and then tying him to a chair in the middle of the of a Puffskein pen….Who said that? Certainly not me.
Also, while we’re here, please consider the following alleged incidents that definitely did not happen (and if they did, no you didn’t see it):
• Secret meetings in the Forbidden Forest “for ingredient gathering” (aka: Orpheus appears out of the fog like a cryptid and someone follows looking like they’ve been properly undone.)
• Boathouse shenanigans (I don’t think those screams were mermish ).
• Caught in the Owlery (someone’s tumbling down the steps, fixing their hair while pretending they were “just sending a letter”).
• Corridor cornering (the suits of armor are filing formal complaints at this point).
• Quidditch locker room rumors (allegedly it was only a “quick chat,” but why was everyone’s clothing in disarray??).
• Library close-call (Madam Scribner has felt a disturbance in the Force and is now on the prowl for the guilty party).
The Options! (Too many for a proper poll, hahahaha)
Gryffindor
Cressida Blume
Nelly Oggspire
Leander Prewett
Eric Northcott
Hufflepuff
Adelaide Oakes
Arthur Plummly
Evangeline Bardsley
Charlotte Morrison
Lenora Everleigh
Sacharissa Tugwood
Ravenclaw
Everett Clopton
Samantha Dale
Duncan Hobhouse
Astoria Crickett
Hector Fawley
Andrew Larson
Mahendra Pehlwaan
Slytherin
Imelda Reyes
Grace Pinch-Smedley
Nerida Roberts
The Unnamed Slytherin’s boy I shall refer to as Greengrass, because I can!
Drop your reasoning and choices for chaos in the comments: Who’s just crushing? Who’s pretending they’re not? Who’s one heated glance away from proposing? Who “just happened” to be in the Forbidden Forest at 2am with a lantern and jelly for legs?
The more unhinged, the more giggling will ensue as I plan out how I can make this into a hilarious drabble along with the glorious list of OCs!
I’m making this post to determine who ended up on Orpheus Kerr’s “been there, done that” list. Possible hilarious drabble/one shot to follow!
Yes. That means hand over your OCs. I’m collecting victims….respectfully of course.
Were they:
•caught snogging in a tucked-away corridor?
•having a “quick go” in the Quidditch locker room? (allegedly)
•study session in the restricted section…that most definitely was not studying. Yes he charmed Scribner into giving him the key 😉
•sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest for undisclosed reasons….
•stuck in a questionable flirtation ship where they witnessed, firsthand, how fast Orpheus can drop the stoic facade when he wants something?
Just tell me, who did he successfully lay the rizz on… and who did he utterly fumble trying to woo?
Headcanoning that Orpheus hasn’t actually dated( or which ever term you wish to call it for the time period), anyone before Leo Lovegood, @lyra-prag’s beautiful boy. That happening prior to… whatever emotionally confusing, mildly feral thing he has going on with Jocelyn, @creampuffcloudsdreaming’s and my beloved Orphylen ship. So if your character “counts,” it’s probably gonna be under:
• “it happened once”
• “we don’t talk about it” or “that’s all we talk about…”
• “technically not a date”
• “I can explain”
• “The portraits still gossip about it…”
Drop your OC’s and how it went down (or blew up) unless you want me to think of something hilarious. And did Orpheus win or get humbled? By all means, go absolutely ham in the comments. Separate post with a poll of existing characters coming next.
Roselight shenanigans for my beloved @ravenothere. Because I adore Myrna so so much and I love all of my Tobi ships.
3k words… Help! How did that happen??
Rating: T for teen, tooth rotting, and Tobi being…well…Tobi.
Tobi made his way into the library with purpose and far too much curiosity. The note in his hand from Nurse Blainey had been tormenting him since she’d pressed it into his palm. She had worn an oddly pleased smile as she told him to bring it straight to Carina.
He had considered peeking. Only briefly. Ok, so he was still considering it. He cleared his thoughts and returned to the task at hand.
He scanned the library tables for her, privately hoping she had not disappeared into the Restricted Section. Madam Scribner would likely have his hide if he started wandering down there uninvited.
As it happened, he did not have to look far.
Behind Madam Scribner’s desk sat Carina, her hair catching the lamplight. She was chatting animatedly. And it wasn’t hard to see why. Seated beside her on top of the desk sat Myrna.
Tobi’s steps slowed and an easy smile broke across his face.
His interest had first snagged when he first met his best friend's sister with the pink highlights that scattered through her hair. He had been fascinated from the first moment he saw her, though at the time he had convinced himself it was only because she happened to share his fondness for pink. To this day she still seemed so unimpressed by him.
Now, unfortunately, his problem had grown. To the point Luke endlessly teased him about how much Tobi fancied his sister.
He spent enough time in the library these days, determined not to fail his classes, but also enjoying that it let him spend time with Myrna. Ever since doing so he started to notice things. The way Myrna tucked herself into corners like she never meant to leave them. The way her face changed when she was truly lost in a book. The way she muttered to herself when something on the page captured her fully. The little huffs, the tiny eye rolls, the small smiles she gave when she was so absorbed in her own little world.
And what made matters worse… he had apparently become incapable of behaving normally around her. His grin stayed plastered across his face at the best of times, like now.
“Tobi?” Carina looked up at him, one pale brow arching. “You look as though you’re up to no good.”
“Aye, perhaps I am,” he said, grin widening, then held up the letter. “Nurse Blainey asked me to give you this.”
Carina took it, but Tobi’s attention had already betrayed him. Myrna had glanced up at him. That was all it ever took to make his thoughts turn to mush.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, giving him a look that said, here we go again, though the twitch at the corner of her mouth was awfully close to a smile. Tobi’s grin softened causing Myrna to look away first.
Carina broke the letters seal and scanned its contents. A second later she snorted, then covered her mouth as a fit of giggles escaped her.
Tobi blinked. “Is that good?”
“For me?” Carina said. “Probably.”
“Now I want to know?” Myrna reached out for the letter before Tobi could even ask why.
Carina passed it over. “It seems your brother still can’t stay on his broom.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. Tobi bit his lip to keep from chuckling.
Myrna read it and sighed. “What has gotten into him?” Tobi fought to keep his mouth shut, ducking his head. He was not about to spill Luke’s motives.
“Since Nurse Blainey's making him my charge for the afternoon,” Carina sighed, a bit too cheerfully, “I’ll need to rely on you to return these to the Restricted Section for me.” She turned and tapped the large stack of books beside the desk. She then slipped a worn key into Myrna’s hand with a folded note.
Myrna stared at the teetering stack. Then at Carina. Then back to the stack.
“I can’t carry all of those by myself.” She huffed, pouting.
Tobi grinned, he thought her pout was the cutest thing he had ever seen.
Carina, who clearly noticed everything and spared no one, turned to him with a look of pure innocence. “Tobi can help you.”
His ears went pink so quickly that they might have caught fire.
“Aye,” he grinned. “Course I can.” Time alone with Myrna sounded fantastic, especially without her brother snickering at his horrendous flirting and moonstruck expressions.
Myrna looked at him, then at the books, and let out a small sigh. “All right. But if you ruin any of these books, I’m letting Carina hex you.”
Tobi perked up. “Deal!”
Carina made a tiny choking sound that was definitely a laugh as she grabbed her bag and practically skipped out of the library.
Myrna hopped down from the desk keeping her gaze fixed on the stack. “Do try not to set anything on fire.”
“Aye, absolutely,” Tobi said, scooping up the stack, causing it to immediately wobbled in his grasp.
“Why don’t I believe that!”
He grinned. “Probably because you make me nervous.”
Her eyes flicked up to his face, then away again. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“It is,” he admitted cheerfully. “A terrible one.”
She shook her head, but there was a softness to it now as she led the way toward the Restricted Section.
Once she unlocked the gate and they stepped inside, the light dimmed, and so did the noise of the rest of the library. The whole place felt tucked away with nothing but shelves and dust.
Tobi shifted the stack of books he carried and followed after her.
“So,” he said, his voice low, “any idea where these actually go?”
“Perhaps.” Myrna slid Carina’s note from her pocket and took the first volume from Tobi’s stack. She eyed the first low shelf and tucked it into place with a little hum. She turned back to glance at Tobi, who of course, was shamelessly watching her with a stupid grin on his face.
“You’re staring.” Myrna sighed.
“Aye, I am.” He grinned a bit wider. “I like to enjoy the beauty in my everyday life.”
Myrna scoffed shaking her head as she grabbed the next book and consulted the note to see where it should go. Tobi couldn’t miss the blush coloring her cheeks. It drew attention to the deep blue wisps of color along her left cheek. Tobi couldn’t help but think that they were beautiful, like brush strokes.
Myrna glanced back to him, her cheeks darkening further as she caught him staring again. She turned back to the shelves. “Staring isn’t going to help you shelve books.”
“No,” he scratched his brow and chuckled, balancing the wobbling stack of books with one arm. “But it does improve my afternoon.”
She let out the tiniest huff that might have been a laugh and held out her hand for the next book.
He gave it to her at once, far more pleased with himself than he had any right to be.
They moved shelf by shelf, Myrna consulting Carina’s note while Tobi handed her books or reached up to put the taller ones away at her direction.
A few minutes later she took a worn book from his hands, one with faded pink and brown stripes along the spine, and slid it beside a taller volume whose red binding had long since softened toward a dusty rose.
Tobi stared at the pair for a moment. Then he chuckled and pointed. “That’s us.”
Myrna blinked. “What?”
“Them.” He nodded toward the two books, smiling helplessly. “The little striped one and the rosey faded one, that’s us.”
For a moment she looked at the books, then to him. She covered her mouth, looked away, and tried very hard to stifle the giggle threatening to escape. It didn’t quite work. The sound of it sent a rush of warmth through him.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Tobi chuckled. “I’ll be saying things like that again.”
Myrna shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Aye,” he grinned, delighted. “But you laughed.”
She cut a glance at him, cheeks still pink, and the fondness in it shocked him. His perpetual blush stretched to his ears.
With every shelf they finished, she seemed a little less guarded. At one point he reached over her shoulder to put away a book on a higher shelf, and she looked up just as he turned to look at her.
He smiled without thinking.
Myrna furrowed her brow as she looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged.
“You’re smiling at me.”
“Am I not allowed?” Tobi’s brow lifted in question.
“You look terribly pleased with yourself.”
He laughed softly. “Can you blame me?”
Myrna’s mouth tugged at the corners. “You’re hopeless.”
Tobi pressed a hand to his chest. “That I know.”
Myrna only shook her head and reached for another book, though he noticed she was smiling to herself now.
His flirting, if it could even be called that, only got worse from there.
“You know,” he said as he passed her another book, “I think this is the nicest task I’ve done lately.”
“It’s shelving books.”
“Aye, but you’re here.”
Myrna looked down at the book in her hands, studying the faded title much harder than necessary. “That was a very shameless thing to say.”
“Aye,” he said. “It just slipped out.” This always happened when he was around her. He became a hopeless idiot, not that he ever tried to fight it.
“That seems to happen to you a lot.” Her fingers traced the binding of the book she was studying.
“It does when I’m around you.” Tobi shrugged.
He watched as Myrna’s cheeks darkened at his admission, and Tobi immediately wanted to clap a hand over his own mouth. Instead he tried to recover and only made it worse.
“I mean… not that you make me say foolish things. I do that well enough on my own.”
Myrna looked up at him then, soft and amused. “I know.”
He laughed helplessly.
A few shelves later she caught him watching her instead of the titles in his hands yet again.
“You’re staring again.” She sighed.
“Sorry.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You say sorry, but you never stop.”
He shrugged. “Would it help if I said you’re lovely to look at?”
Myrna made a small sound under her breath, somewhere between exasperation and fond disbelief. “No, I don’t think it would.”
Tobi chuckled, grinning a bit wider .
By the time they reached the final book, he felt absurdly buoyant, all warm and bright from nothing more than being in Myrna’s company.
“That one goes up there,” Myrna said, pointing toward a high shelf.
Tobi wiggled the last book in his hand “See? We’ve done quite well. No casualties. No fire.”
Myrna gave him a look that was a bit soft around the edges. “You’re very proud of yourself.”
Tobi smiled hopelessly. “Aye, suppose I am, I got to spend time with a beautiful girl.”
Myrna froze for half a heartbeat, then tilted her head. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”
“No,” he admitted. “I can’t.”
Her gaze lingered on him longer than usual. As if questioning, why her?
Tobi became very aware that he was still smiling at her like a complete idiot. He quickly turned toward the shelf with the final book. And caught his boot on a low stool.
Everything happened at once.
He lurched forward, splaying his arms, the book nearly flying from his hand as he tried to save himself. In doing so, he knocked into Myrna. She let out a yelp as they went down together.
Tobi twisted hard at the last second, one hand slamming to the floor beside her head, the other clutching the book. He caught himself just enough to keep from crushing her, his body braced over hers in a graceless heap.
For a second, the whole world stopped. Myrna lay beneath him, wide-eyed, hands tangled in the front of his sweater.
Tobi’s pulse roared in his ears.
“Duilich,” he gasped, voice rough. “Merlin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… did I hurt you?”
She shook her head still staring up at him with wide eyes.
He should have moved. He knew he should have moved. Instead his eyes caught on the fine, wispy markings along the left side of Myrna’s face and neck, curving faintly over her cheek in the low light. Tobi sighed. They were beautiful like the most delicate brush strokes on the finest canvas. Without thinking, he let the book slip from his grasp and lifted his fingers tracing the edge of markings with the lightest touch.
Myrna went very still. His gaze dragged from the lines gracing her cheek to her eyes. One the richest brown and the other midnight blue. Both soft and impossible to look away from. Tobi wished he knew what she was thinking. He swallowed hard. His voice, when it came, was low and thick with nerves.
“Myrna…” He hesitated, searching her face and gently cupping her cheek. “Can I kiss you?”
She didn’t answer, she only looked at him, her brow furrowing ever so slightly, her eyes fixed on his as though she were trying to make sense of him. Of the question. Of whether he truly meant it.
Tobi felt his heart thud hard against his chest. He could almost see her mind reeling. A nervous breath escaped him, and then he chuckled, his thumb brushing over her cheek where his hand still cradled her. His eyes softened as he looked at her, warm and hopeful.
“You needn’t overthink it,” he murmured.
There was no pressure in it. If the question made her uneasy, he would take it back. He swallowed his own nerves and tried to steady himself long enough to say what he really meant. He let out a shaky breath.
“Myrna…I…I’ve fancied you for such a long time,” he admitted quietly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, self conscious smile. “An embarrassing amount of time, if I’m being honest.” His thumb brushed her skin again. Myrna remained unmoving, almost frozen beneath him. “So if the answer’s no, I’ll be alright,” he murmured, the smile drifting from his face, "because I truly care about you.”
For a moment she only stared at him, as if caught off guard by how serious he was. Then she swallowed. Without a word, her grip tangled in his sweater tightened as she pulled him closer.
Tobi’s breath caught. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. His eyes flicked quickly to hers again, because he had to be sure.
Myrna’s cheeks were pink, her expression soft and unreadable in that quiet, thoughtful way of hers, but she didn’t let go of his shirt. And she definitely didn’t push him away. If anything, her fingers curled a little tighter.
A small disbelieving smile broke across Tobi’s face. “Right,” he breathed, almost to himself. Then he leaned down slowly, giving her every chance to stop him, and kissed her.
His lips were tentative, as they brushed against hers. Treating the moment as if it were made of something fragile. He could feel her trembling, as if she were holding her breath. He kept the kiss soft, with a reverence that borderlined worship.
Myrna’s fingers curled tighter into his sweater, pulling him flush against her. Tobi gasped against her lips in surprise. The realization that she wanted this, that she was actually letting him, sent a surge of heat coursing through him.
A low groan escaped him against her lips. The gentleness grew in intensity deepening the kiss with a desperate hunger. He tilted his head, his lips sliding over the softness of hers to claim them.
He kissed her like she was the last drop of water offered to a man lost in a desert. His tongue slid against her lips, asking for entry. She let out a small gasp, allowing him to slip inside. He devoured her sweetness, his tongue sweeping through her mouth with a possessive heat, swirling against hers.
His hand, left cradling her cheek slid to tangle in her hair. He held her firmly enough to keep her close, pouring every ounce of the affection he’d kept buried into this kiss.
When Tobi finally pulled away, it was only by a fraction. His forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling as the warmth of her lips lingered on his.
Unable to resist, he smiled and leaned in again, stealing another kiss, slower this time, softer, lingering just long enough to savor it before pulling back.
A helpless, boyish grin spread across his face as Myrna’s eyes fluttered open to meet his. They both tried, and utterly failed, to steady their breathing. Neither of them spoke.
They simply stayed there, wearing the same shy, disbelieving smile. Tobi let out a quiet chuckle as he carefully untangled his fingers from the soft strands of her hair.
“Merlin…” he breathed, his grin growing wider. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
Myrna pressed her lips together, trying and failing to keep a giggle from escaping. The sound slipped out anyway, her cheeks becoming impossibly pinker.
The sound made Tobi chuckle. He wrapped his arm around her waist and, with an easy roll, flopped onto his back, taking her with him.
“Tobi!” she squealed, surprised, landing sprawled across his chest. They dissolved into a fit of laughter, the sound echoing through the Restricted Section.
Tobi looked up at her, unable to believe she was actually there, smiling back at him, that he’d actually been able to kiss her. His heart felt so full it ached. He wondered if they could stay like this for the rest of the afternoon, smiling at one another, and discovering what this shift between them meant.
Beside them, the final book from Carina’s task lay forgotten on the cool floor, while neither one of them seemed particularly concerned about completing the task they were given.
A Drabble I started in June that I finally got around to finishing.
Rated T: for teens,trauma, and Tobi tomfoolery.
Tobi stumbled his way up through the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, taking the stairs two at a time and nearly missing one. His free afternoon drawing outside had been interrupted by an impromptu lesson for all third years by Professor Hecate.
By the time he crossed the threshold of the classroom, Professor Hecate was descending the stairs from her office.
“Mr. Ardis,” she called, “good of you to join us.”
A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, so faint most would have missed it. Tobi, breathless and blushing, gave her an apologetic grin and hurried to the cluster of Gryffindors, taking his place beside Garreth.
“Duilich,” he muttered, scratching at his brow.
Garreth chuckled. Tobi answered with a sheepish grin and turned his attention to Professor Hecate.
Today’s impromptu lesson, it turned out, was on boggarts. One of which was found in a chest in Mr. Moon’s quarters.
Professor Hecate began with theory, explaining in detail what they were, how they fed upon fear, and the proper method of banishing them with the Boggart-Banishing Spell. Tobi, however, was not paying nearly enough attention. His thoughts were already drifting to dinner, he was starving.
At last she drew everyone’s attention to the locked chest at the back of the room.
“Since Mr. Moon so graciously saved this specimen for you all,” she called as she silently removed the lock with a flick of her wand. “We shall put theory into practice.”
That got everyone clustering around the chest with nervous anticipation. A ripple of excitement passed through the class as they lined up one by one. Tobi found himself behind Garreth and his Hufflepuff friend, Orpheus. Behind Tobi, the tiny pale Slytherin girl, Carina, peered around the group with wide violet eyes, looking as if she might bolt at any second.
Garreth was fretting aloud in-front of Orpheus already, whispering anxiously about what his boggart might turn into. Orpheus stood in front of him with that usual unreadable expression while standing as still as carved stone.
One by one, their classmates stepped forward.
Everyone was laughing out loud when a giant chomping cabbage accosted that one serious Ravenclaw boy, Devon, his twin sister included. Though the room's mood took a real dive when her boggart turned into her father and blamed her for his early death. The two could be found comforting each other at the back of the class after.
And still the long line of students took their turns facing some shifting horror and sent it spinning into absurdity with varying degrees of success. There were squeals, laughter, and the occasional failed attempt before Hecate corrected them sharply and moved the lesson on.
Then came Garreth’s turn.
His boggart burst forth as his Aunt which was enough to earn a round of startled laughter, and with an exasperated flourish he cast Riddikulus, sending her wobbling away as a shaky mannequin that even had Hecate’s mouth twitching with humor.
Then Orpheus stepped forward. The transformed boggart spun again. The shape blurred, twisted, and swelled.
What had been a mannequin of the Deputy Headmistress turned into a towering pyre, flames roaring high enough to lick the ceiling. An ear-splitting scream tore from the heart of it.
For the first time since Orpheus had transferred that year, Tobi saw something crack in him.
Terror. Real terror.
Orpheus stood white-knuckled and rigid, beads of sweat already gathering at his brow, his face gone utterly bloodless. His eyes were wide, fixed on the flames, and he did not move. He did not lift his wand. He did not breathe.
Without thinking, Tobi stepped forward and grabbed the larger boy by the arm, and yanked him back behind him.
Then he turned to face the boggart himself. The fire vanished at once. The flames collapsed inward, the scream cut off, and the shape dissolved into a haze of black smoke. It churned there for a moment, uncertain, writhing as if searching.
Then, slowly, it settled and took its shape. A mirror image of Tobi stood before him.
The class gasped.
The boggart-Tobi stared back at him wide-eyed. And then it stumbled backward, in the same gangly manner that Tobi found himself moving clumsily as he grew.
The boggart kept its form, not changing into anything of meaning. It just stumbled, terrified, retreating in an awkward alarm until it backed straight into the open chest. It climbed in, the boggart-Tobi’s terrified eyes never wavering from his own as he watched. The lid slammed shut on top of it.
For a long moment, the entire classroom was silent.
Tobi blinked.
Then, with the whole room staring at him, he scratched at his brow and let out a small, awkward laugh.
Professor Hecate’s expression had gone quite still. “Well,” she said at last, her voice thoughtful. “I have never seen such a thing in person.”
No one moved. No one seemed quite sure whether to laugh. Tobi certainly did not. He was wondering what he had done wrong.
Hecate folded her hands behind her back and studied him. “I had, however, heard of it happening once before.”
Tobi’s grin faltered slightly. “Is… that bad?”
A few students snorted.
Hecate’s gaze remained fixed on him. “No, Mr. Ardis. Quite the contrary.” She paused. “Such a reaction is said to occur only when a person is free of fear.”
That sent a murmur through the class.
Tobi blinked again, then scratched his brow a little harder. “Right,” he said, grinning again, more from uncertainty. “Well. That’s lucky, I suppose.”
Behind him, Orpheus had still not said a word. Garreth and the pale Slytherin girl were pulling him from the class with murmurs that he couldn’t quite make out.
And Tobi, though the room buzzed faintly now with whispers, found himself glancing back at the chest with an odd twist in his chest, as if some part of him thought he ought to have been afraid. But mostly, he just felt embarrassed to have the whole class looking at him. So he ducked his head, smiled awkwardly and waited for Professor Hecate to dismiss them.
A short and sweet little Orphelyn snippet for my dear Ruby @creampuffcloudsdreaming!
Orpheus sighed as Jocelyn pouted up at him, bright green eyes sparkling with that shameless, determined hope.
“Please,” she begged, tugging at his hand. “Please, Orphie, if we fly we’ll get there quickly.” She bounced on the balls of her feet physically trying to jostle him into agreement.
“I said no, Jocelyn.” Orpheus slid his hand free of her grip. With calm finality. “I’ll not have you miss practice again because you’d rather run off with me.” He sorely regretted ever mentioning the cluster of butterflies he’d seen lazily drifting through the Forbidden Forest on his last walk. He should’ve known better than to give her ideas.
Her lower lip poked out immediately in an adorable pout.
Orpheus’ gaze softened by a degree. “Leonard already chastises me enough. Go practice.” He reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, knuckles brushing her cheek. “Besides… I do love watching you fly. I promise we can go after.”
Jocelyn froze. “Really?” Her pout vanished so fast it was almost impressive. “We can go?”
“Yes,” Orpheus hummed, as if it was obvious. “After practice.”
Jocelyn squealed and launched herself at him. Orpheus caught her out of pure reflex. She peppered his face with quick, delighted kisses, and he let out a quiet chuckle despite himself.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then lowered her back to the ground. “I’ll see you at the pitch in twenty minutes.”
She giggled like she’d just been handed a prize and skipped off, hopefully in the direction of the pitch.
Orpheus watched her go. The slightest grin lit his normally stoic face, before he turned and made his way back to the Hufflepuff common room. His trek through the castle was uneventful and filled with thoughts of Jocelyn, her excitement and quick wit. He tapped the Hufflepuff barrels without much thought and ducked into his common room.
Once in the quiet of his dormitory, he changed out of his uniform and into worn, familiar clothes. He wrapped his teal clockwork scarf around his neck out of habit, then stretched until his shoulders loosened.
The edge of his boot knocked the loose floorboard beneath his bed.
Orpheus knelt to straighten it, then stopped. Instead, he lifted it and reached inside pulling out his small trinket box.
He sat beside the bed and cracked it open. Inside were the usual hoarded “treasures,” odd stones, bits of jewelry, little gleaming things he’d gathered without ever admitting why. His fingers moved past them without interest, pausing on the one piece that didn’t quite belong.
A blackened pendant. The diamond set within it untouched, pristine, while the gold around it had warped from heat. One of the only things, save for his mother’s wand handle, the Gullah people had been able to pull from her pyre.
Orpheus exhaled slowly and rubbed it between his fingers.
“Oi!”
He looked up, barely phased by the intrusion.
Garreth leaned against the bedframe, wearing the familiar expression of someone who had decided he was invited into Orpheus’ business whether Orpheus liked it or not.
“See you made it in without getting coated in vinegar this time,” Orpheus said, eyes dropping back to the pendant.
Garreth snorted. “Funny. I called to you in the corridor and you didn’t even notice me.” He pushed off the bedframe with a little frown. “Color me concerned.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Orpheus muttered.
“Yet here you are,” Garreth said, gesturing at him on the floor. “Brooding in all your tragic glory.”
“I’m thinking,” Orpheus replied, rolling his eyes.
“Of what?” Garreth sat down beside him, voice softer now. “Everything alright with Jocie?”
Orpheus didn’t answer. He kept turning the pendant in his fingers, the char catching faintly on his thumb.
Garreth, astonishingly, didn’t push. He just waited.
Orpheus’ jaw worked once. Then, without a word, he drew his wand in his left hand and aimed it carefully at the pendant.
The metal shifted beneath his fingers, reshaping, warped gold smoothing, the blackened edges fading, until it became a glittering ring. The same diamond now sat clean and bright at its center, catching the light like it had been waiting for this all along.
Garreth’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh.”
Orpheus twisted the ring once between his fingers, expression unreadable. Then he slid it into his pocket with the kind of quiet finality that made it feel heavier than it was.
Garreth’s grin crept back, slow and knowing.
“Suppose,” Orpheus said at last, voice low, “I’m thinking of important things.”
A little Drabble with @lyra-prag’ Leo Lovegood and my Dear Orpheus. The Golden Lyre ship if you will.
Also tagging @creampuffcloudsdreaming so she can enjoy the rot!
Throwing a teen rating in here I guess, I suck at ratings hahaha
Orpheus swept through the windy sky, the air slipping past his wings. The moon’s glow reflected off the lake’s surface, silver and freeing, the world reduced to wind and distance and quiet.
Gliding past the Owlery, he caught a flash of blue in the torchlight.
A familiar cap.
Leonard?
What in Merlin’s name was the Ravenclaw doing up there this late?
Orpheus banked without thinking, circling once. Leonard Lovegood leaned over the upper railing with a slightly confused look on his face. He’d taken to flirting with Orpheus at every opportunity these last few weeks, abysmal pick-up lines delivered with shameless confidence, which was especially hilarious considering he’d been completely speechless when they first met.
Lately, it had become increasingly hard to snip back with his usual dry banter. Something about the pretty Ravenclaw boy was drawing him in.
Leonard’s gaze flicked up as Orpheus flew by.
Intrigued, Orpheus swooped in, and with a twist landed soundly, boots striking stone with a dull thud.
Leonard jumped back, startled. “Merlin…” His mouth fell open in surprise, maybe amazement. A blush colored his cheeks as he gawked, gaze dropping traitorously to Orpheus’ half-open white shirt and the sliver of chest it revealed. Orpheus followed the look with one slow blink, entirely unimpressed.
He said nothing as he waited for the boy to recover.
He simply pinned Leonard with a silent, heated gaze, steady enough to make the air feel tighter.
Leonard swallowed, then recovered the way he always did: by talking his way out of being flustered.
“Garreth said you might be up here,” he blurted. “So I thought… well… I wondered what you’d be up to, and I climbed the ladder and…” He gestured vaguely at the ladder that led from below like the explanation should excuse the fact he was up here at midnight.
Orpheus didn’t answer.
He just looked Leonard up and down, slow, deliberate, like he was deciding exactly how much trouble he was willing to start.
Leonard’s ears pinked to match his cheeks.
Then, as if he refused to lose first, he tilted his chin up and flashed that pretty-boy grin, spring-green eyes shining with mischief.
“Oh,” Leonard murmured, leaning back against the rail like he wasn’t entirely aware he’d been caught. “I see.”
Orpheus’ brow lifted. “See what?”
“The staring,” Leonard grinned. “Like you want something.”
Orpheus’ mouth twitched.
Leonard, emboldened, kept going, shameless and cheeky. His gaze flicked to Orpheus’ shirt again, then back up with exaggerated innocence. “I was going to ask why you’re dressed like you’ve just escaped a romance novel,” he said, voice dipping like he was telling a secret, “but I suppose the more important question is… did you do it for the owls…”
His grin turned brighter, wicked with implication.
“…or someone else?”
Orpheus’ restraint cracked into a wicked grin. Leonard’s smile faltered briefly at the sight, like he hadn’t expected Orpheus to actually react.
“As if I’d expect any less of you,” Orpheus murmured.
Leonard’s blush deepened. “Well… it worked.”
Orpheus stepped closer, voice smooth now, cavalier, almost amused. “Careful, Lovegood. Flirting with me like you’ve been doing implies you can handle what happens when I stop being polite.”
Leonard’s eyes flicked to Orpheus’ mouth, too quick, too honest. He leaned in close, like he was about to kiss him.
Then he stopped.
Hovering. Waiting. A question he didn’t ask.
Orpheus’ thoughts were simple:
He’s Garreth’s friend. I’ve already gone after Garreth’s crushes…
This could make things complicated.
I should show my friend some respect.
Then, equally simple:
To hell with it. I’ll ask forgiveness later… maybe.
He closed the distance in one clean movement, hand sliding to the back of Leonard’s neck, guiding him in like it was inevitable. Their mouths collided with bruising force, lips mingling in a raw clash. He lingered there, savoring the connection, his lips moving against Leonard's in an unhurried, if not forceful exploration. Leonard sighed into the kiss, his hands resting on Orpheus' shoulders, fingers curling just enough to hold him steady. Orpheus' free hand settled at Leonard's hip, drawing him a fraction closer until their chests touched. The kiss frenzied with their lips parting slightly allowing the subtle give and take of breath.
Orpheus tilted his head to deepen the contact a touch more, his lips tracing the curve of Leonard's with careful and deliberate attention, drawing out a low hum from his throat. When they finally parted, he rested his forehead against Leonard's. Where he was quite collected, Leonard appeared wrecked.
Leonard swayed, eyes half-lidded, legs weak. Face blazing like he’d been hexed and was delighted about it.
Orpheus caught him automatically, arm firm around his waist.
For a moment, Orpheus simply stared, genuinely startled that the master flirt had melted so completely from just a kiss.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Leonard clung to Orpheus’ shirt like he’d vanish if he let go.
Orpheus tightened his hold and forced his voice back into something smooth.
“You’re being dramatic,” he sighed.
Leonard exhaled, breathless. “You actually kissed me.”
“I’m aware.”
Leonard blinked up at him, still pink, still stunned. “Do it again.”
Orpheus’ mouth twitched. Amused he gave a quiet hum in agreement.
Leonard’s eyes widened, delighted.
Orpheus leaned in, close enough that Leonard stilled, hanging on every breath.
“We can stay up here,” Orpheus offered, voice low, his intent threaded neatly through the calm. “Get to know each other.”
Leonard nodded too fast. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay. So you’ll actually talk?”
Some Lovelake hurt/comfort, my thrid of a three way one shot trade with @creampuffcloudsdreaming and @lyra-prag. I can finally post it since Ruby has read it!
Rated D: for diabetes.
Leo woke with a start, the last jagged remnants of his dream rushing through him before he could make sense of anything. He glanced around, disoriented and shaken, his thoughts stumbling over themselves.
What…why…how?
He and Bee had been happy. Perfectly happy. Their date had been going well, and then, in the dream, it was as though she had changed all at once. Changed abruptly into someone colder, sharper, someone who looked at him like his affection was a burden. Like he was too clingy. Too much. The words had not sounded like her, not one bit, but they still clung to him, digging in deep and refusing to let go.
The light outside was fading fast. The Astronomy Tower rec room was lit only by candlelight and the soft starry haze of its small enchanted ceiling. He lay curled on the settee there disoriented.
Then soft hands tentatively scraped through his hair, pulling him from the spiral of his thoughts.
Leo glanced back.
His head was resting in Bee’s lap. His cap lay forgotten beside her.
Her brows were furrowed, warm brown eyes fixed on him with quiet concern. Upon being caught, she looked startled, but her fingers did not leave his hair.
“Hi,” she called softly.
A dream. It had only been a dream.
Leo’s brow scrunched as he thought. Bee liked him, didn’t she? Perhaps he had been silly, thinking that trip to get her a broom had been a date in the beginning…but what else could it have been? And she had never pulled away from his closeness before. Never recoiled from their cuddles. Never told him he was too much.
He dragged a hand down his face, trying to shake off the lingering sting of words that had never truly been hers.
“Are you alright?” Her soft voice called him from his thoughts.
“I….” The words stuck in his throat. Fine was what he was about to say. But he was far from it at present.
Bee’s gaze softened as her fingers found their way into his hair again, the gentle scrape of her nails easing some of the ache the nightmare had left behind.
Leo let out a breath that trembled on the way out.
Bee noticed. Her fingers slowed in his hair, gentling rather than stopping, as though she feared that if she moved too quickly she might startle him further. That was like her, careful with everything she held dear. Even now, with him half-sprawled across her lap, she handled him as if he were something fragile.
“Leo?” she asked again, quieter this time.
He swallowed. He could usually make anything sound light, effortless, charming. He could grin through embarrassment, laugh off bruised pride, smooth over awkwardness with something clever and bright.
But Bee’s hand was in his hair, and the remnants of the dream still clung to him like spider silk, sticky and hard to ignore.
“I had a bad dream,” he admitted at last, voice rougher than he liked.
Her brows pulled together a little more. “Oh.”
It was such a small sound, soft and full of concern, that it made something in his chest ache.
He stared up at the little painted stars overhead rather than at her. “It was stupid.”
Bee shifted beneath him, the movement careful. “Nightmares usually feel real while they’re happening.”
That pulled the faintest, chuckle from him. “That obvious?”
“A little.” Her mouth twitched, shyly, but the concern stayed in her eyes. “You looked scared when you woke.”
Leonard closed his eyes. He hated that part most. Not the fear itself, but being seen in it. He was meant to be the easy one, the confident one, the one who leaned back with a grin and made everything look simple. And he could manage it well enough. Usually.
But Bee’s fingers resumed their slow path through his hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp, and the comfort of it pried at the words lodged inside him.
“In the dream,” he said carefully, “we were happy. Everything was good. And then suddenly…” He broke off, jaw tightening. “You changed.”
Bee went very still.
Leonard rushed on before he could lose his nerve. “You said I was too much. That I was clingy. That I…I made things strange by always wanting to be close to you.” His laugh this time was thin and humorless. “Which sounds ridiculous now that I say it aloud, but it didn’t feel ridiculous in the dream.”
The silence that followed was soft. Bee was never sharp, and even then it came out more in fidgeting hands and bitten lips than harshness.
He finally glanced up.
Her expression was stricken in a quiet way, as though the very thought of having hurt him made her heart twist. “Leo,” she mumbled, fragile and wounded. “I would never say that to you.”
He knew that. Didn’t he? He did. He must have.
Yet the dream had found the crack anyway, the small ugly place where doubt lived. The part of him that smiled too easily and talked too smoothly because if he kept shining brightly enough, perhaps no one would notice how badly he wanted to be wanted back.
“I know,” he said, though it came out small.
Bee looked down at him for a moment, thinking. She always thought before she spoke, especially when she was nervous. Her free hand twisted in the fabric of her skirt, thumb rubbing anxiously at a fold.
Then, timidly, she asked, “Can I tell you something?”
Leo nodded.
“I like when you’re close to me.” The words were quiet, but they carried startling weight.
Bee ducked her head the tiniest bit after saying them, as if embarrassed by her own honesty. Still, her fingers never left his hair. “I know I’m not always good at saying things. And sometimes I get shy, and sometimes I fidget, and sometimes I probably look like I don’t know what to do with myself…” Her cheeks warmed, but she kept going. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.”
Leonard just looked at her.
She took a breath. “I like when we cuddle. I like when you lean on me. I like when you reach for my hand without thinking.” Her lashes lowered briefly.
He stared at her for another second, then covered his eyes with one hand in mortification. “Merlin. I am actually letting a dream ruin my life.”
That pulled a giggle from her, the sound so soft.
“It isn’t ruining your life,” she murmured.
“Felt like it for a minute.”
Bee’s hand slipped from his hair to his temple, as if to sooth him. “It was only a dream, Leo.”
He lowered his hand enough to peek at her. “You promise?”
Her expression turned earnest in an instant. “I promise.” Her easy confession soothed him so completely.
Leo exhaled, some of the tension finally leaving him. Without thinking, he reached up and caught a loose end of her hair where it had fallen forward over her shoulder. He wound the strand lightly around his fingers, then let it slip free, only to do it again.
Bee noticed, of course. Her eyes flicked down, then back to him, and some of the worry in them softened into something warmer.
“That helps?” she asked.
“A bit,” he admitted.
Her lips curved. “Good.”
He played with the end of her hair again, slower this time, savoring its softness between his fingers. Bee’s hand returned to his hair in turn, and soon they were both doing it at once, her gently combing through his blonde strands, him absently twining hers, until the quiet of the room settled around them.
Leo looked up at her again, more clearheaded now, though still a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
Bee blinked. “For what?”
“For being ridiculous.”
Her brows knitted together. “You aren’t ridiculous.”
He gave her a look. “Bee.”
“No,” she chimed firmer now, though still gentle. “You had a nightmare and it upset you. That doesn’t make you ridiculous.” Her fingers slowed, brushing soothingly through his hair. “It just means you were hurt.”
That undid him a little more than he wanted to admit.
Because that was it, really. Not just fear. Hurt. The dream had taken something precious and turned it cruel, and some foolish part of him had believed it because insecurities were greedy things. They only needed the smallest opening.
He turned his face slightly into her lap, no longer bothering to hide the need for comfort.
Bee’s hand paused for only a heartbeat before settling more fully against his head, cradling rather than soothing. The gesture was tentative at first, then surer when he didn’t pull away.
“You’re not too much,” she said softly.
Leo’s throat tightened.
“You aren’t clingy.” Her thumb brushed lightly near his temple. “And you don’t make things strange.”
He shut his eyes again.
Bee swallowed, clearly nervous now that she was saying so much at once, but she pressed on with shy determination. “I like that you care so openly. I think it’s… nice.” Her cheeks pinked a little at the word. “I like that you make it easy to know where I stand with you.”
His fingers curled around the end of her hair.
“And,” she added after a tiny hesitation, “I hope I make you feel wanted too.”
Leo opened his eyes.
Bee was looking down at him with so much vulnerability, fidgeting slightly with the fabric near her knee while her other hand remained steady in his hair.
He sat with that for a moment, chest full. Then he said, very quietly, “You do.”
Bee smiled down at him, still a little bashful, and kept combing her fingers through his hair. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”
He arched his brow. “Really?”
“If you’d like.” Her voice grew small with self-consciousness. “You seemed comfortable.”
Comfortable was an understatement. With his head in her lap, her hand in his hair, and the nightmare finally fading into something distant and foolish, Leo felt safer than he had any right to.
So instead of making a joke, he simply nodded and let his eyes drift half-shut again.
After a moment, he murmured, “Bee?”
“Yes?”
His fingers gave the end of her hair a gentle, absent twist. “Thank you.”
Her hand slowed, then smoothed tenderly over his hair once more. “Always.”
And this time, when he let the dark take him, it did not feel like falling. It felt like being held.
The aftermath following Orpheus sending riddles to Jocelyn. Happy Valentine’s Day Dear @creampuffcloudsdreaming ! Let’s just say the rot was strong at work! Can also count for OCkiss: Heated! Enjoy!
“So… you sent it?” Garreth kept pace beside Orpheus as they cut down the corridor like they owned it.
Orpheus didn’t so much as blink. “Yes.”
Garreth made a noise of dramatic suffering. “Merlin. You actually did it. The fourth letter.”
Orpheus’ expression stayed perfectly, painfully neutral, like this was a discussion about homework, not a riddle-laced love note delivered straight into Jocelyn’s bloodstream. He’d sent it the night before. He hadn’t seen her yet today, which meant only one thing: She was chewing on it.
Ruminating. Plotting. Spiraling delightfully.
Garreth bumped his shoulder. “Why not just tell her it’s you?”
Orpheus lifted one shoulder in a minimal shrug.
Garreth stared at him. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
“But you like her,” Garreth pressed, grinning now. “Right?”
Orpheus didn’t answer immediately, which was answer enough to make Garreth’s eyebrows shoot up.
The truth was… irritating. He was intrigued, yes. Jocelyn was a nuisance in the way a storm was a nuisance…loud, unavoidable, and somehow always exactly where you didn’t want it. She was also….unhelpfully…pretty. Curly red hair. Bright, mischievous eyes that sparkled like something valuable.
Garreth leaned into his line of sight, waving a hand. “Hello? Anyone in there?”
Orpheus blinked once, slow. “Hm.”
“Where do you go when you stare off like that?” Garreth asked, delighted. “It’s like watching a portrait think.”
Orpheus scoffed, and the corner of his mouth twitched into the smallest grin. “Somewhere quiet. You wouldn’t survive it.”
Garreth clutched his chest. “And here I thought you liked my company.”
“I’ll not deign to answer that,” Orpheus said, voice smooth, and for a second it almost sounded like a laugh.
They rounded the corner and the air changed.
A commotion erupted at the far end of the hall…footsteps, a cluster of whispers, the unmistakable swell of an incoming problem.
Then it hit, loud enough to rattle suits of armor.
“LEOOOOON!!!”
Orpheus went completely still. Flush creeping up his neck. his middle name, the one Garreth regularly teased him with. Sweet and sing song in her voice.
Oh. Oh, no.
Garreth made a choking sound that might’ve been a laugh. “She found you.”
Jocelyn came storming down the corridor like she’d been launched from a cannon. Hair wild, eyes bright, face flushed with triumph and the kind of joy that should honestly be regulated.
She didn’t slow. She didn’t hesitate.
Orpheus’ mind supplied, very calmly: This is my fault.
And then Jocelyn crashed into him full-force, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders, the sheer momentum knocking him back against the wall with a solid thud. “THERE YOU ARE!” she exclaimed breathlessly, her voice a mix of triumph and teasing whine, eyes sparkling with that wild energy. “I haven’t seen you ALL DAY!” She leaned in closer, inhaling deeply against his neck before pulling back just enough to murmur, “You smell so nice today... like fresh rain and something forbidden.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she bit her lower lip, slow and deliberate, the plump flesh catching between her teeth as a hungry glint flashed in her eyes. “You know, I’m STARVING.”
Someone gasped nearby. Another laughed, sharp and delighted. A book hit the stone floor with a decided thud.
Orpheus barely had time to brace, his heart slamming in his chest, before Jocelyn’s hands shot up to grab his face, her fingers firm on his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheekbones like she owned every inch. She kissed him like the concept of privacy was a myth invented by cowards, her lips slamming into his with bruising force, soft and demanding all at once. For one stunned second, he didn’t move.
His thoughts were brief and uncharitable: She’s insane.
Followed immediately by a traitorous, inconvenient second thought: …I don’t hate it.
Garreth’s delighted cackle echoed somewhere behind them, cutting through the haze.
Orpheus finally lifted a hand steadying Jocelyn at her waist, fingers splaying wide over the curve of her hip, pulling her in tighter despite himself. The kiss didn’t stop. If anything, she kissed him harder, like she was making up for every ignored glance and avoided encounter
Orpheus exhaled through his nose.
She’s kinda terrifying. Kinda….Merlin help him.
He kissed her back then, surging into it with a low, growl that vibrated against her lips. His free hand rose to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading into her curly red hair to tilt her head just so, giving him better access as he took control. Jocelyn moaned softly into him. He angled his head, deepening the kiss until their noses brushed, lips grinding together in desperate friction, savoring the way her body melted against him, her nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
The giggles around them multiplied, a chorus of shocked amusement. Someone wolf-whistled, high and piercing. A portrait on the wall loudly coughed “SCANDALOUS,” like it was having the time of its life.
Orpheus broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, low and flat against Jocelyn’s lips, “You’re causing a scene.”
Jocelyn pulled back a fraction smiling like a lunatic. “Good.” She leaned in like she fully intended to keep going until the castle collapsed.
Orpheus’ gaze flicked over the gathering crowd. Then back to her, bright-eyed, breathless, and utterly pleased with herself.
Decision made. He gripped her hand, pushed off the wall, and started walking.
Jocelyn, still half clinging and giggling incessantly, went willingly, practically skipping to keep up as he towed her down the corridor like a very smug, very dangerous prize.
Garreth called after them, “Where are you taking her?!”
Orpheus didn’t look back. Nor did he reply.
He shoved open the door to an empty classroom and tugged her inside. Jocelyn stumbled in with him, grinning. Orpheus shut the door with a swift click. The hallway noise muffled and the rest of the world fell away. But Jocelyn didn’t give him a second to catch his breath. She lunged forward, slamming her body against his, her hands fisting in his shirt as she yanked him down into a fierce kiss. Her lips crashed into his with hungry demand. Orpheus groaned into her mouth, the sound raw and involuntary, his hands snapping to her hips to haul her closer. She tasted like sweets and mischief, her breath coming in sharp pants as she sucked on his lower lip, nipping it hard enough to sting. He pulled away at the sensation.
Jocelyn’s eyes shone with delighted fire, her chest heaving as she stared up at him. Her fingers tracing his jaw with a possessive touch. The delight in her eye faltered. “Say it,” she whispered, voice rough with want.
Orpheus’ expression stayed controlled, too controlled for the way his hand remained firm around her wrist.
“Say what.”
“That it was you,” her reply catching ever so slightly on the same insecurity he had heard in her voice while she threw her tantrum in the forest. “That you wrote them.”
He looked down at her like she’d asked him to bare his soul, and in a way, she had. Then, quietly, “Yes.”
Jocelyn’s smile went radiant and blinding.
And Orpheus’ only coherent thought, as he stared into her sparkling eyes was simple and possessive and absolutely undeniable: Mine.
