Woah! Has it been two years already? (•̪ o •̪) Well instead of anniversary/ birthday art here’s celebration arts to my time tumblring and to two awesome, amazing people and collaborators of the Moo>ncalves: NFY: drums, Chris: Bass @diana-bluewolf and Sunan: Guitar @dom1re also some tracks that give me heavy Moo>ncalve vibes 🎶
I love you both sm (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ‹𝟹 it’s such fun posting and a big thank you to all the kindness and support whenever we post about our boy’s antics, its all so appreciated. Below are small thank yous to the loviest creators and mutuals and I can only apologies I couldn't include as many as I'd like because you’re all awesome. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Elijah @pikadrawsthings, Violette @syaolaurant, Will and Elland @lil-grem-draws
April @lynnsartsworld, Damien @theladyofshalott1989, Lyla @keri-mcberry
Serena @bassicallymaestra, Westley @leawshum and Anissa @anyahoney
Burdie and their spoiled workaholic child ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Chris, Sunan @dom1re and NFY @traceyc-uk
Little cameos: Violette @syaolaurant, Will and Elland @lil-grem-draws, Lyla @keri-mcberry
[wasn't sure if I needed to tag them because they are so smol but had to credit the creators anyway 🥰 Also, I swear I had started drawing it before I saw Tracey's anniversary post]
⋆｡˚ Co-writer: @ask-andrew-montrose ♡ Read this fic on AO3 ˚｡⋆
♡ Pairing (OC): Andrew Montrose x William Abbott
♡ Rating: Explicit 🔞
♡ Word Count: 4,774
William Abbott, a Slytherin with a strong track record of perfectionism, pulls in reinforcements when a potion is needed to prevent an audacious hair-vanishing threat. That reinforcement is Andrew Montrose. But the hair-vanishing is the least of their worries when their thoughts start to wander. And so do their hands.
With how great they work together, the potion isn’t the only thing getting steamy.
“Andrew, three valerian sprigs, please?”
“The ones I clipped earlier?”
“Yes, those, thank you.”
William threw the sprigs into the cauldron one by one with 10 seconds and 3 counterclockwise stirs in between. The concoction didn't change, bubbling merrily as the two-hour-long process was nearing its end. Nevertheless, Will had to watch it carefully, waiting for a brief change in colour before adding any new ingredients. Looking away might cost them the entire process, and as somebody who brewed that potion before and messed it up, Will was determined not to waste any time. Not when his boy was watching.
Andrew was in charge of the very important and pricey ingredients: the occamy egg and unicorn hair. It made sense to Andrew. Regular eggs were already used in plenty of hair products (he would know), and the occamy egg was a certain step up both in size and tenderness. The unicorn hair was self-explanatory as well. It was the hair they wanted to grow, not nails. They should be thankful that there were no troll bogies involved.
The preparation of the egg mixture was akin to cooking in Andrew's eyes. You check with the recipe, do as it says, and don't focus too much on the pretty boy beside you. With his sleeves rolled up, the Ravenclaw got to measuring the separate unicorn hairs, cutting them to the appropriate length, and letting them soak in the morning dew for 6 minutes.
While an hourglass was steadily counting, Andrew carefully cracked the occamy egg, making sure to separate the yolk from whites by gently tilting the yolk back and forth between the eggshells. The whites steadily dripped down into a separate bowl. Andrew observed the broken shells in his hands and frowned, his mind drifting back to his egg-head days when Theo had vanished his most luscious natural accessory. The Ravenclaw glanced to the side: William was working with the porcupine quills, as focused as ever. Hopefully, he would never have to deal with the same misery as Andrew. They had to get this potion done, just in case.
Andrew singled out the sturdiest of the unicorn hairs, laid it at the bottom of the yolk bowl, rolled the yolk onto it and pulled the far ends of the hair up to let the golden insides spill. This stage involved some delicate work as the egg differed in quality from its chicken counterparts. Whatever was to be mixed with it later should cause minimal disturbance to the liquid up until it ended up in the cauldron. No wonder this recipe was superior. Will was rather resourceful if he managed to acquire it on such short notice a while back and to send Andrew those potion vials in a timely manner. Andrew sighed.
“I really should've paid more attention.”
“Is something wrong?” Will looked up from his work.
“No, don't worry about now,” Andrew affirmed him, keeping an eye on the hourglass by the morning dew. “I meant before, when … you know. My sulky era. It could've all been solved there and then if I didn't act like a … uh.”
Andrew's fingers were tapping on the table absentmindedly as he spoke. The corners of Will's mouth lifted up at that but he looked away not to offend Andrew in his moment of sincerity. Monty's statement came out so stubbornly honest that Will couldn't help but feel a wave of affection warming up his chest. He knew it was not easy to openly talk about such things but they were working on being open with each other. Sulking, he thought . Both of us were back then, weren’t we? If only —
“Ouch!”
“What!” Andrew echoed in the same tone, the instinctual protectiveness kicking in as he stepped into Will's space. The Slytherin was looking at his finger where a small bead of red from the porcupine quill prick appeared.
“Will,” Andrew sighed, glad that it was not something more serious. Will, on the other hand, was of a different opinion.
“Those things aren't poisonous, are they?” he questioned, having gone as pale as a ghost. He knew the answer, of course, but fear entered his mind before logic did.
“Will,” Andrew pressed, saying his name again but softer this time. He reached forward to bring Will’s hurt hand into both of his to take a closer look. “You’re fine.” He declared confidently. His gaze flicked back to Will’s as he kept hold of his hand, “It seems I must have distracted you. I’m sorry. Those eggshells … they had a vaguely familiar shine that reminded me of … something.” He stopped short before continuing, his voice dropping a bit before he asked, “Let me kiss it better?”
After a shy nod from his fox, the Ravenclaw brought Will’s finger to his lips and lingered for a bit, brushing against the bloom of red before sucking gently on the spot. Will breathed in unsteadily. Right. He was being silly, of course there was no poison involved.
“That's on me for letting myself get distracted,” the boy got out and added as he batted his eyelashes at Monty, his voice still a little shaky but words and intonation no less cheeky: “Can you blame me? Such a handsome young man working right next to me!”
Andrew laughed in response as he held onto Will's hand to massage the anxiety out of it. No more beads appeared, the wound was so small that Episkey wasn't needed after all.
“Your hands are really cold, Will.”
“Happens when something startles me.”
“Oh? Perhaps some warming up is in order?” Andrew questioned. One of his hands reached around Will's waist and pulled him closer.
“When have I ever said no to that?” Will murmured back, feeling warm from the closeness already. Andrew pressed their hands to his own chest and Will almost swore he could feel his partner's heartbeat.
“Mm. That’s one way to turn around your mood, fox,” Andrew chuckled lowly.
Will stood on his tiptoes to reach Andrew's ear with his lips, ready with another flirtatious remark, but one accidental glance behind the Ravenclaw made the little snake gasp:
“Hourglass!”
Without a word more, they jumped away from each other. William grabbed an empty pot and placed it next to the bowl with soaking unicorn hair just as Andrew covered the bowl with gauze and drained its contents into Will's pot with barely a few grains of sand left in the hourglass. There was a moment of silence as the two wizards watched the last drop of morning dew depart from the bowl, leaving only the unicorn hair that Andrew proceeded to rearrange on the table to dry. That step of the recipe was complete, the potion makers looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Merlin, Andrew, no more distractions!” Will rubbed his eyes after a while, still smiling.
“I think we did rather well even with all the distractions,” came a reply, and then a light tackle as Monty embraced Will and placed a lingering kiss on the boy’s temple. “For your help.”
“Oh, you owe me more than that for having such a sharp eye,” Will chuckled and moved his hands onto Andrew’s sweet buns to give them a squeeze.
“Cheeky fox,” Andrew murmured approvingly into Will’s lips.
Will paused for a second and let out a long wheeze at the accidental pun, letting go of the cheeks in question and giving Andrew a light push on the shoulder.
“Cheeky, huh? Finish up the egg, love, it’s about time.”
There was not much left to do, and Andrew got to completing the egg preparation while William was keeping an eye on the cauldron. And stealing periodic kisses — Will decided that it very much was a necessary ingredient, and Andrew agreed unconditionally.
“So, I’ve noticed that the recipe we are using is not even close to the one for Manegro Potion , huh?” Andrew placed the bowl with the last ingredients next to Will and looked over the Slytherin's shoulder.
“It's not but this is also why it's so potent.”
“Ah, because of the difference in eggs.”
Will turned to give Andrew a quick peck on the cheek without stopping his stirring.
“Correct! And different proportions of plants. The ingredients were delivered from France this morning since some needed specific conditions to be produced. From that one place I get my lavender soaps from?”
“Hm. It seems you impressed me for multiple reasons today already, and now you go and tell me that shop always had more than just the fancy soap? I’ll never question it again. Though … you know how I feel about the way it smells,” Andrew laughed.
They followed a steady rhythm, not getting in each other's way but stepping in where they knew the other would expect them to. Out of habit, Montrose cast a quick spell to check if the temperature in the cauldron was still suitable, and hummed with satisfaction. They had it under control, no surprise there.
As for the soaps... Andrew leaned in to nudge Will's ginger locks with his nose, taking in the faint scent of lavender just to prove his point. Will giggled and shook his head.
“Andrew, the occamy egg? My hair won't be running away any time soon,” he said and bit his lip the moment the words got out. He didn't mean to bring up Andrew's * Evanesco * situation.
“Of course they won't, I won't let that happen,” was Andrew's determined reply as he squeezed Will's shoulder. “Oh, look!”
The colour of the potion subtly brightened. With a practised motion, Andrew steadily poured in the liquid gold from the bowl he brought prior. The combination of the egg and unicorn hair made it flow into the bigger body of water in a slow and gentle manner, circling while Will continued to stir.
“ … Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six …” counted the Slytherin until it came to fifty stirs and he took the long-handle spoon out.
Having finally emptied his bowl, Andrew checked with the recipe and levitated the cauldron onto the cool surface next to the stove.
“Looks like we did it.”
“Couldn't have done it without your help.”
“Yes, you could’ve. You've done it before, Will.”
“Well,” Will snaked his arm around Andrew in a half hug. “You being here certainly made the process go smoother.”
Andrew chuckled briefly, thinking of something else smooth, but didn't comment. They needed to clean up before they could relax.
“I've noticed recently, why don't you use the stirring spell while you work?”
“I like to feel the density of my potions. One of the sure ways to know if something is off or didn't dissolve properly,” replied Will and added quietly. “And also sometimes when I don’t physically stir I lose count.”
“You? No way,” Andrew looked at him in surprise, pausing the process of scourgifying pots and bowls.
“I am not perfect, Andrew,” Will poked his boy's side with one of the leftover porcupine quills, the snake’s vulnerable expression carefully concealed as he faced away for a moment under the pretence of clearing up his workstation. The porcupine quill, however, continued its poking attempts.
“You're perfect for me, William,” came a simple but sincere reply that made Will’s assault falter for a second. He puffed out a quiet laugh and shook his head. Someday he would get used to Monty seeing right through him.
“Well — Ah, you, wolf.” With his face red he couldn’t think of a good reply. The quill went for a poke once again.
Andrew raised his eyebrow in a mock offence at Will, chuckling as he turned to avoid the meek attempt at an attack until his hips were square with Will’s. The Slytherin let out a small gasp, caught off guard by the sudden movement. Served him right, taking his eyes off his wolf even for a moment. When the fox started backing away, it was all part of the game to prolong the anticipation. “Can’t lose right away, right? Will subtly tilted his head to the side and his hair spilt onto his forehead in soft ginger threads.
His small gasp only served to further coax the wolf out of Montrose. Andrew leaned closer, his voice dropping “Nothing to counteract me with?” A coy smile appeared on Will’s flushing face.
Andrew returned it instantly, but his own smile was less coy as a hint of something dangerous lingered at its edges. He rested his palms on the table on either side of Will, caging him in. Montrose gave a thoughtful hum, “I actually find you perfect in quite a few ways … Namely, perfect for me.”
The words became a low whisper as the warmth of Andrew’s breath found Will’s neck, where the Ravenclaw pressed a kiss, eliciting something akin to an eager purr from William. As Andrew kissed, he subtly slipped the porcupine quill out of Will’s palm and instead brought up the Slytherin’s hands to his shoulders.
Will followed the lead but didn't stop there. He brushed his fingers along the muscles of Andrew’s neck, then further to the back of it and higher, entangling his fingers with blond locks, tugging experimentally. The movement drew a low sound from Andrew, who welcomed Will’s assertive touch just as much as his gentle one. Will knew he had some control here, that he’d be able to direct the kisses, to press Andrew even closer towards him if he so wished. Will’s head fell back to give Andrew more access to the sensitive skin the Ravenclaw was nipping at. The Slytherin felt the collar of his shirt closing uncomfortably around him but he didn’t want to move his hands away to undo a few buttons. There will be time.
Andrew was in no mood to rush either. His movements slowed, the kisses lingered longer. “And something I should mention … Though you are perfect in many ways, that does not exempt you from your rude poke. Tsk, tsk …”
Will giggled both at the words and the warm breath ghosting against his skin. Andrew didn’t bother to hide the teasing in his tone, “I should think someone needs to poke you in return for that.”
Before any further warning, Montrose lifted the fox by his hips to the potion table. Will, who was too relaxed in Monty’s kissing trap, registered the movement with a hiccuping “eek”. With some regret, he let one of his hands go from the silky hair to undo a few buttons of his own shirt, loosen his tie, and prop himself up on the table. Andrew’s hands remained steady on Will’s hips and he forced himself to pause and lean back to look at William. His eyes rove unapologetically to appreciate the freckles on Will’s now exposed skin.
Monty’s fingers burned through the cloth, or so it felt to William. A shiver ran through him and Will closed his eyes for a moment at all the physical memory the touch elicited, and all the untold promises it held.
Andrew nudged Will’s knees aside to quickly drive himself against him. Will welcomed him, wrapping around Andrew’s frame with a needy whine. William’s face was burning, be it from how unashamed he looked and the kind of noises that left his lips or from how much this dynamic was still relatively new and unexpected, the ways Andrew undone him in the process of finding out the things that made them both tick.
Perhaps it took an alchemy of being taken apart for both of them to come together. Each touch shaped a different discovery, breaking them down to nothing but fast and hard breaths, and creating something new as a result. Andrew’s exhale was shaky as he wondered at the thought.
Will wouldn’t admit to feeling embarrassed as he certainly was not shy and such words didn’t exist in his vocabulary. But there was something in the way Andrew pressed into him, how Will met him halfway without thinking, and how the butterflies in his stomach got replaced by the heavy caramelised need for connection — perhaps their newfound honesty of the past few months was to blame. Opening up, feeling raw — Will hadn’t done it in years. It felt overwhelming. Will dropped his forehead to Andrew’s shoulder for a moment and giggled.
Andrew lifted his gaze in concern, alerted by the nervousness in that sound. That wouldn’t do. His palm clumsily came to softly cup Will’s face, dragging his forehead towards his own.
“I’m fine,” Will whispered, the tip of his nose nuzzling Andrew’s for a moment. “This, however …” he rolled his hips to emphasise the problem, “Whatever shall we do about it, mhm?”
Brewing something together for nearly two hours without a break caught up with them. It seemed that there was only so much distraction the two of them could handle while working, and with the potion having been completed … Well, Andrew was very, *very* distracted.
He took advantage of their close proximity, slipping a hand at Will’s jaw to angle the fox right into a kiss. Will’s heart fluttered at the gentle touch. He breathed out a little happy chirp into the tentative press of their lips, eyes closing. The hand on Will’s cheek radiated warmth, reverence, and reassurance that the Slytherin didn’t know what to do with, along with all the feelings in his chest. What could he do but hold Andrew close and reflect back every bit of affection he was offered?
He didn’t want to give in too easily when Andrew’s lips requested more: the ever-present pride in how he played the game still burned. But the little snake was weak, oh, so weak to the way he was held, to the insistent press of Monty’s lips, the comforting brush of a thumb against the soft line of his jaw. And whatever it was that Andrew did with his hand on the small of Will’s back that made Will arch in a gasp — the defences didn’t stand, nor did William have the willpower to keep them up when he knew they both craved the same thing. Andrew caught that gasp with a deeper kiss, as if Will’s reaction had always been a part of the equation. Andrew sighed and mumbled against Will’s lips, “See. Just as I said. Perfect.”
Will felt a wave of heat travelling from his face and onto his neck and lower at the compliment and the *way* Monty made him feel like the most desired thing in the world. He wanted to say, “Less talking, more kissing,” but when his lips moved, it was against Andrew's again, and any comments that escaped his mouth were indecipherable behind the quiet pathetic meowls. The sounds only propelled Andrew’s body into determined focus, all words forgotten. His hands moved deftly to grip Will’s thighs, feeling the way that they trembled beneath his broad hands. Andrew vaguely worried he would only slow down at this point if he could see Will was overwhelmed. That is, if anything could slow him down at all.
Andrew’s arms wrapped securely around Will in a way that braced his back enough for the fox not to care about where he was and how he was still sitting up. Captive of his partner’s lips, Will freed his second hand as well to frantically caress every bit of Andrew’s skin, to tilt his head up and run a line of kisses down Monty’s jaw and neck. Andrew made several sounds of approval, his hands giving an insistent tug in protest of Will’s shirt, even as the fox’s lips mercifully returned back to his after the teasing marathon.
William’s hand blindly brushed Andrew’s hair from his face. Once, twice, three times, the movement losing any semblance of purpose other than to touch, to touch the burning skin, to feel Andrew’s breath hitch in his throat at the nip of his lower lip, to hear the wolf growl before assaulting Will’s neck feverishly again. With so much he wanted to offer, Will started losing the grasp on where he ended and Monty began.
Bodies tangled, Andrew found his growing need almost unbearable as he pressed back against Will in return, taking a firm handful of Will’s soft flesh in his hands. If only because he couldn’t take a bite with his teeth. At least not yet. The thought drove his hips forward again. The table shook underneath them from the force, the vials threatening to drop.
Whatever Will wanted to give, Andrew would not only take, but devour, and then give back tenfold. He was a creature of appetite, and he often lost himself in what he was savouring, so lost that he only vaguely felt the graze of Will’s hands looking for purchase on his shoulders. His ears were trained solely on the needy sounds Will was gifting him.
Will was afraid to open his eyes because surely he’d see the world spinning. Out of breath but refusing to gasp for air longer than necessary, hating the idea of staying away from everything Andrew, Will wrapped his arms tightly around his partner again in the last ditch attempt to anchor himself.
Andrew’s hand tightened on Will’s backside to ensure he went nowhere, but the added friction of Will’s movement drove him further into madness. His cock twitched restlessly underneath his trousers where Will was pressed against it. His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, lost again as he moved against Will mindlessly, eliminating any space left between their bodies. Will almost sobbed into Monty’s lips at how intense it felt.
Will wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He wasn’t sure how long their tongues had danced together, wasn’t sure when Andrew shrugged off his shirt and impatiently pushed Will’s off until it hung loosely from his shoulders. When Andrew’s hand slipped down between them to deliberately palm the front of Will’s trousers. Will hungrily bucked into the touch, his nails likely leaving marks on Andrew’s back. Sharp cries of “please, Monty, please” echoed around the room, their maker — unsure of what he was even pleading for. Montrose would drink the sounds of his name from Will’s lips until he was drunk on them.
Where are their belts? The Slytherin had a hard time focusing as Andrew’s face dropped lower, beginning a methodological investigation of his favourite spots across Will’s body. He liked to be thorough.
Andrew’s shoulders shifted beneath Will’s hands as his head dipped for a taste across Will’s fine collarbones, having always admired how graceful they appeared. His tongue drifted across Will’s freckles, pausing to suck gently at the supple skin on his chest, followed by a gentle graze of his teeth. He paid special attention to the most delicate parts of him: sucking, blowing cool air on the sensitive pinks, soft lips enveloping them soon after. As a treat, for both of them. Andrew’s eyes fluttered shut in satisfaction with another groan. Will was, undeniably, the only sweet thing Montrose would abide having in his mouth.
Will’s own hands were in Andrew’s hair again, pulling his head close one moment, and trying and failing to push it away the other when the sensitivity was too much. Will’s throat was dry from the sounds he was making and he tried to swallow the feeling away, shuddering, fingers kneading. “Too much, Monty, ah, wait, Monty —”
Will’s voice registered, despite the blood rushing through Andrew’s ears, and Montrose immediately noted Will shaking. The Ravenclaw internally commanded his hands to slow down their desperate movements, but failed. He was too determined to draw more needy breaths from Will, even if aware that the fox was already short on them.
Will was afraid he was near coming undone, and he wasn’t ready to be undone just yet, not with how he barely had the focus to pay attention to Andrew. His legs gave out a while back, unused to being wrapped around somebody for this long.
Feeling the rush of cool air below, William realized what it was Monty was up to while he was distracting Will with his lips. No wonder the belts were gone. The feel of Andrew’s hand wrapping around Will’s cock left the Slytherin whimpering.
“But what about —” Will began but had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment: the world really was spinning at the insistent rhythm Monty set for him. When did he have time to fetch the oil?
Andrew watched Will try to pull himself together, and his brows furrowed stubbornly since he was currently trying to make Will be the opposite of collected. The heat of Andrew’s hand wrapped around Will again, giving a pointedly slow stroke along Will to remind him to fall apart instead. And Will could trust himself to fall apart with him no matter what — Andrew would get them there together.
Montrose watched Will through half-lidded eyes, appreciation mounting as Will’s body reacted to him. But the next moment Will’s shaky hands were suddenly over his, pausing the movement, and Andrew heard the frantic words at his ears:
“But what about you —”
Andrew released a broken groan, not a protest at Will’s words, but more of a pleading and desperate sound. Of course he would give Will anything he needed, but right now there was an immediacy to his hunger and he was unsure of what would happen if it went unsatiated. Then, Will shifted slightly under his hand, and just that small movement threatened Andrew’s logical reasoning. He was desperate for momentum.
Andrew panted the words, a warning, “… Will. Now.” Will let out a sob and nodded a few times.
Andrew shifted his hips just enough to get one of his hands around the buttons of his trousers, which came undone with a swift, practised movement. Freed, he took himself into his hand, sparing Will a dark grin as he caught him looking. He allowed himself a cheeky tug to give Will more time to appreciate his masterpiece, if his boy so wished.
William’s mouth watered. Oh, they are not leaving this table until they are both done.
Andrew returned to Will, removing his hand from his cock only for a moment. He braced himself on the table, his hair falling slightly into his face whilst he aligned himself. He took them both into his hand, shifting his weight forward and exhaling a curse as their cocks squeezed flush together.
Andrew’s pace was relentless as he stroked them both, his hand faltering a few times at his need, letting the pressure build with no hesitation, hunting for it. Andrew’s breath was laboured from the effort as he loosed a ragged grunt against Will’s equally needy mouth. Will moved feverishly, his hips trying and failing to keep up, and as he moaned Andrew’s name, Andrew could only kiss the sound from his lips.
It didn’t take them long. Between broken breaths, the impending build-up of pleasure threatened to burst, with them in the centre of it. Needing each other, worshipping each other, loving each other; before, right through, and after.
Will came back to their surroundings after a few long blissful minutes. Andrew, used to Will’s timing, let him lean on him, his hands running up and down Will’s back. The shirt which Will vaguely remembers sliding off his shoulders, was put back on, perhaps prompted by Will’s slight shivering. The cooling-off process predictably did not affect Andrew: he felt warm to Will’s touch still, both of them simply breathing in and out as their bodies calmed down. There was no slickness between them, that already had been taken care of while Will was in his happy daze. William nuzzled into Andrew’s shoulder with a slurred “Thank you”.
⋆｡˚ ♡ ˚｡⋆
There were a few soft kisses and loving reassurances after but they separated when William started whining about how uncomfortable the potion table was on his tender buttocks and how much he needed to stretch his legs. Andrew helped him up by suddenly swooping him off the table and doing a few spins while Will laughed excitedly in his arms, still a little weak.
Oh, if only they paid attention to the cauldron that had the time to cool off to the side. If only Andrew’s legs didn’t buckle at the wrong moment, reminding him of the demanding job they were on not that long ago. If only Will didn’t jerk his foot trying to balance them out when he realized they were in for a fall.
As it was, on the floor of the room, covered in the fresh potion, both holding onto the cauldron with half of its content miraculously saved and the other itching on their skin, they learned one thing: their Hair Growing Potion was a success.
Divider by Lil-Grem: ask and give credit if using.
Happy birthday to my beautiful boy Hellendil! It took me a year to finish this little reply to @ask-elland-n-will's invite for a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, but it's finally ready to post.
@ask-sebastian, I hope you don't mind me borrowing your Seb for this! ❤️ One of these days I need to get everyone's MCs made so I can really torture my PC and they can all hang out there together.
Since Halloween is in less than three weeks, our Student Council started to work on this year's festivities already. I am in charge of organizing a few things, including looking for a pumpkin supplier.
I know that your grandfather, Pádraic Haggarty, has a farm, so I was wondering if I could deal with him through you since you and I are already acquainted (let's leave the topic of tickling behind us). You work on the deliveries already, not to mention take care of a lot of your hamlet's produce so I am sure you know as much as Mr. Haggarty does. Should you agree, here is a list of what we are looking for.
[There indeed is another smaller parchment attached to the letter, with an extensive list of pumpkins of various sizes, shapes, and colours. The total amount of the produce required should be enough to comfortably decorate an entire ballroom.]
Let me know if your farm can meet the demand, I'll be dealing with the payment myself. But even if we cannot reach an agreement, I am still rather curious: what are you going to wear this Halloween?
With warm regards and hopes for a successful transaction,
William Abbott ☀️
Dear William,
We do indeed have a pumpkin patch. Judging from the list, it does sound like you did a lot of research on the topic of the gourd in question. The only kind of pumpkins that we do not really grow is the Atlantic Giant but I imagine you can easily cast an enlarging spell on one of the other big pumpkins we have. Traditional orange pumpkins and golden pumpkins, Baby Bears, and Moon Light pumpkins… Blue Prince pumpkins have been a hit this year but I think we have just enough left to cover your list. Same for all kinds of squashes.
I have to warn you that our Fairytale pumpkins have had a bit of a trouble this year with the coloring but if you'd come to the farm with me and check them out, I think you would agree that they still fit nicely into what you're trying to accomplish. There are quite a lot of white and gray gourds on this list (Casper and Casperitta? Baby Boos? Very Halloween-appropriate!) I assume you are going for something pale and ghostly this year rather than regular orange? It might be a nice contrast to what we usually have decorating the Great Hall!
It is a rather huge order so if you need those delivered in advance you might as well come with me: both to look at the goods and help me fly some back to the castle. We can brainstorm how we can Levioso them in a bigger group. I have recently been gifted a rather nice broom so I am sure I can keep up even with the Slytherin's seeker!
Let me know if this is alright with you and I will warn my gramps. I'll see you at lunch today!
This is William, the Slytherin prefect. I am writing to you with an interesting proposition. A while ago I have noticed you and @adallegra discussing a certain parchment you managed to... borrow from someone in your dorm. The matter disclosed in that piece of writing is of an utmost importance to me: it has to do with the SSOO. I am sure you remember, the "secret" Sallow fan club?
Well. It fell upon me to investigate this matter further. I might require your assistance to get to the bottom of this! As a prefect, I am to stop all the activities that students might engage in past curfew. Should you agree to help, our task is to find the students who'd be willing to talk about the club. Should this plan fail, we are to do a little bit of... observing on our own. How ironic considering the name of the organisation!
If you are interested, I'll be waiting in the further left corner of the library after dinner.
Sincerely yours,
William Abbot
All through dinner, Theo could hardly touch her meal or pay attention to anyone around her. Mostly, she was attempting to talk as little as possible (which was hard for her) as to not blurt out news of the potential…investigations. She was practically bursting with excitement. Despite that, she told herself she could be secretive when she wanted to be….after all, she was the one who had found that letter in the first place.
Speaking of which- her eyes flick to the number one suspect in question: Lenora Everleigh. With a displeased hum, she notes Lenora had chosen peas and carrots as her vegetable dish tonight. That was suspicious enough in itself for Theo. Ghastly combination of food. What else was she capable of??
Before she could look at the horror that was anyone partaking in peas and carrots, her thoughts turned to William’s letter. She had to admit, she was slightly concerned about him …mostly because the last time they had spoken on the matter it had been so long ago. Her brows furrow in slight concern at the realization, hoping the whole matter hadn’t completely taken over his mind since then, but, knowing him…she sighed, supposing she’d see for herself in just a short time.
She quickly shoves the rest of the meal in her face before she scampers off to the library, letter in hand. She spots him right where he’d said he’d be. She was glad to see the corner of the library did provide some shadow, perfect for their meeting and adding a little bit of dramatics. She makes no grand gestures to flag him down, as to not call attention to the two of them, and just quietly slips into the seat next to him.
“So... I see someone’s ready for Phase One of W.A.R, hm?” She says by way of greeting with a mischievous grin. “I’m quite impressed William. A prefect such as yourself stealthing around? They are some slippery ones, those SSOO's. We’ve certainly left them alone long enough! Been far too easy on them, really. Hopefully it’s lulled them into a false sense of security! You should’ve seen Lenora at dinner. peas and carrots for Merlin’s sake…”
She doesn’t care to explain the peas and carrots comment, but her rambling does pause slightly as her eyes flick to William’s with determination.
“So! You don’t even have to ask. Clearly I am in. Mainly to satiate my curiosity and perhaps give Sebastian a bit of grief, but… do tell. What does this little plan of yours entail anyhow? And please tell me you somehow managed to convince our dear Allegra into this as well?” She says with a slight chuckle, but already on the edge of her seat with excitement.
Rebecca tended to avoid Will, nowadays, if she could.
It was typically easy enough to evade being left completely alone with him - which is what she truly wished to escape. He often treated her with civility when they were working, but it was the moments when they were left alone that Rebecca disliked the most - for they would settle into an uncomfortable silence at best and ... at worst, Will could prove himself to be a rather unforgivable ass.
So, if she could have escaped this particularly scenario, she would have.
Today, she’d been the one to slip away to the resistance to see if there was any news: anything that they needed to know. Rebecca, herself, had had little to report as the Brigade had been investigating leads provided to them by Roland under the guise of Horatio.
But before she could leave, storm clouds had darkened the skies and, within moments, sheets of rain poured out of the heavens and thunderous clouds rolled overhead and Rebecca decided that she would rather brave Will than the skies, at that moment.
