On Your Skin

by H3avydirtysoul

Summary:

For a year now, you've hidden that mark on your arm. You've hidden it and almost successfully forgotten that it exists, that it's a part of you, and most likely your future. But things start to change when Professor Sharp sees it and starts asking questions, making you consider for the first time that a soulmate mark might not be as bad as you once thought.

Chapter 1: Distracted

Notes:

Welcome to my first work in a while!
I had no idea of writing any time soon but I'm so damn weak for Aesop Sharp - just like I am for Severus Snape - that I totally had to make a comeback.
I hope you enjoy reading it and I apologise in advance for any mistakes you may find. English is not my first language and it's not beta read either.
This is also my first time writing in 2nd person and about a straight relationship.

It's probably your fault you got caught the way you did. It's not a major thing, but you hate being caught not paying attention in class. You were distracted by the strange mark you have on your inner wrist. You've had it for little more than a year and today it's being especially bothersome. It's not uncommon, it itches from time to time, but nothing like today. The skin around it is a little red from the abuse it's suffered from your nails today. To avoid further irritation, you're now gently rubbing your thumb over it, in an attempt to soothe it. You're so distracted that you haven't noticed that Professor Sharp's voice no longer fills the background. The class has fallen silent. You don't notice his presence behind you until it is, to your horror, much too late.

"Miss Jones" He calls out your name and it's all you can do to not jump in your seat. 

You quickly pull down the sleeve of your robe to cover your exposed wrist and turn around ever so slowly to face him. You hope he'll be lenient, given that this isn't a common occurrence, you being this distracted, if at all. Sharp's the Head of Slytherin House, but he's not above docking points for your lack of attention. 

"Yes?" You ask, somehow finding your voice. "Sir." You add, mentally kicking yourself.

"Name three properties of the potion we're discussing today." He's looking at you from up above, making you feel even smaller. 

"Uh…" You clear your throat, thinking fast. Which was it again? You know it's a mistake to turn around and read the name on the blackboard. You'd just confirm that you don't even know what's being discussed. Is it  Veritaserum ? You faintly remember your classmates' excitement at the beginning of the lesson, so that must be it. "Well, it's difficult to recognise, since it's odorless and colourless. It's a powerful truth serum, so much so that you only need a few drops to make it work. And if one's proficient enough in  Occlumency , one can resist it without the use of an antidote." 

He takes a moment before speaking and it feels like an eternity to you. Did you just make a fool of yourself? Is it not  Veritaserum ? What's he waiting for? His gaze doesn't waver but you refuse to yield under it. You don't even blink and your body is tense. He's probably aware of this and punishing you for not paying attention. You know you can't fool him, not even if you've given the correct answer. 

Finally, he lets his lips curve slightly upwards. 

"Correct, Miss Jones. Ten points to Slytherin." Sharp says, finally moving away from you and back towards the front of the class, not without giving you a  very  pointed look first.

You slowly let out the breath you'd been holding, regaining your composure. You grab your quill and start taking notes.

What a sneaky little snake , you think, looking at him from under your lashes. He's now sitting at his desk, so you figure his leg is probably acting up. He's staring right at you, so you quickly turn your eyes down. Biting your lip, you wonder if now's the right to talk to him about what you think might be a temporary solution to his problem. 

Ever since the whole debacle in your fifth year, you've been experimenting with ancient magic and you think you've finally found something that can help Professor Sharp with his cursed leg. It's nowhere near a cure, but you believe it could greatly improve his life. You've debated presenting the idea to him or just trying and doing it yourself from a distance, but have come to the conclusion that you need his consent. It just wouldn't be right otherwise. 

The bell outside rings, signalling the end of the lesson. The sound of the stools scraping against the floor fills the room and everybody leaves in a rush, not before Sharp assigns homework. Of course he does. 

"Will we have lunch together?" Sebastian asks you, pulling on your robe sleeve to catch your attention. 

"Y-Yes." You answer, quickly placing your books and notes inside your bag, ready to go.

Before you can leave with Sebastian though, Sharp calls your name again. 

"Miss Jones, a moment, if you please."

You see Sebastian grimace at that and give you an apologetic smile. 

"See you outside?" He suggests, placing the strip of his bag on his shoulder. 

"You and Ominis can go ahead to the Great Hall, I'll be there in a few. He's probably just going to berate me for not paying attention or something." You give him a reassuring smile and he nods, leaving the classroom. 

You then approach the round table where Professor Sharp is organising his papers, neatly. 

"You wished to speak with me, sir?" You almost sound calm, which is the very opposite of how you're feeling right now. You can't remember a time when you felt normal while talking to this man, but then again, how can you when you've had the biggest crush on him ever since you've come to Hogwarts?

Sharp stops what he's doing and looks up from the table at you. He doesn't seem irritated at least. That's good, you can deal with that. 

"That's a very interesting mark you have there, Miss Jones." He says, his eyes quickly flickering to your wrist and back at your face. 

Oh, no, not this,  you think, feeling the need to flee the classroom that instant. "I'd rather not talk about it."

He frowns at your answer.

"Alright. But you know what it is, right?"

You don't like that he presses and you snap.

"Another fucking thing to single me out. As if ancient magic wasn't enough." There's an ugly sneer on your face now, and if he's shocked by your cussing, it doesn't show. It doesn't go unnoticed, however.

"I'll advise you to refrain from using foul language in front of me, Miss Jones." His tone doesn't leave room for argument and you have no option but to apologise.

"I'm sorry about that, but I really don't want to talk about this. Nobody I know has one, so…" Your voice trails off, but you're confident you've made your point. If he's asking about your mark it's because he knows what it is, despite the rarity of it. 

He lifts his hands in surrender. You relax a bit at that, but can't stop feeling intrigued by the look in his eyes. It's intense at first and then melts into something else that you can only describe as disappointment, but you can't see why it would be. 

"I won't press any further if it makes you feel uncomfortable. You may go, then." 

This surprises you, but you're not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If he doesn't bring your inattention in his class, all the better for you.

You quickly turn around to leave, but you remember what you'd been thinking during the last few moments of class. So you turn around again to face him.

"Actually, Professor, can I talk to you about something else?" 

He's back at organising his desk and this time he doesn't stop or look up.

"Does it have to be now? I'm a tad short on time, I'll have another class coming in soon."

Oh, really? , you think, fighting the urge to roll your eyes because he didn't seem in a hurry when he was keen on asking about your mark. "Whenever you're free is fine by me."

"Come back around six, then. I'll be done with my last class by then and we can talk. Have a good day, Miss Jones." 

You're not happy that he doesn't even give you one last look, but you decide to not let it show. 

"To you too, Professor Sharp." And you're out of there as fast as your legs allow you, remembering that Sebastian and Ominis are waiting for you to have lunch and you don't want to keep them waiting any longer.

---

The day passes in an agonisingly slow fashion for you. Halfway through lunch, you start to regret having proposed to meet Sharp again that day. It's all you can think about for the rest of the day. Your friends catch up on it but your teachers don't, and for that small mercy, you're grateful.

"Isabelle, are you gonna tell me what's wrong? You're unusually quiet." Natty whispers to you as soon as you leave the Transfiguration classroom.

You shake your head, clutching your books tighter against your chest, seeking comfort in that gesture. 

"It's nothing. I'm off to meet Sharp, that's all." You say, not stopping. You're almost running late and you don't want to risk his wrath. "Catch up later?"

"Uh… I'm just wishing you all the best luck in the world 'cause I feel you'll be needing it, Belle." Natty gives you a pointed look and a knowing smile. "We'll  definitely  gonna catch up later."

And like that you both part ways. You rush to the dungeons and, fortunately or not, you arrive there with no seconds to spare.

No time to overthink this, I guess , you think, knocking on Sharp's office door. The Potions classroom's empty, so you assume he's in there, probably grading schoolwork or whatever it is teachers do when they're not teaching classes.

"Come in." His deep voice comes from behind the door, effectively confirming your suspicion. 

You take a deep breath and open the door slowly, wondering if it's too late to turn around and just leave. 

You don't.

By the time you close the door behind you, Professor Sharp still hasn't looked up from whatever work he's doing. You're not sure whether you should say something first or not, but you don't have all day, so you think it might be for the best if you just get this over with. 

"Sir, I'd like to talk to you about your leg." 

Now that seems to pique Sharp's interest. He stops writing and puts down the quill, finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with curiosity. It's clear that he's trying to decide whether to act on that curiosity or not.

"Hm. What about my leg?"

You take a step forward, excited that he seems open. You lick your lips.

"It was a curse, right?"

"Yes. And there's no cure for it as of now. So unless you've somehow discovered one, I don't think we have anything to talk about." His tone is harsh. It comes as no surprise to you. This is a man who's had to give up a successful career because of this and has been looking for a way to fix it for years now.

"I've got no cure, that's true. I don't think I could've come up with one when you didn't." You say, hoping that the meaning of your words is not lost on him. That you respect him a lot. "But I think I can control it."

There. You've said it.

And there's a silence that comes with it. You're not sure what you expected would happen, if you're honest. But you can't deny the surprise when he stands up abruptly and walks around his desk to come to stand in front of you, mere inches away. He's so close you can smell his aftershave. 

Fuck, he smells so good.

You love it.

"What are you saying?" He whispers and you hear it clearly in his voice. There's an edge to it. 

You have to control yourself not to close your eyes when a shiver runs down your spine. His tone, the closeness, his scent. It's a lot right now.

"I-I think I can control it. With my… ability." You end up saying, lifting one hand and slowly wiggling your fingers by way of explanation.

He doesn't let up.

"How?"

"By applying it to your leg. Like… Infusing your leg with it. Making it latch onto the curse that runs there." You sound more confident now, so you continue. "It's just theoretical, of course. And I know I'm running on assumptions here, but I think it could work."

Sharp finally seems to relax a bit at your words, but there's still distrust in his eyes. And he's still much too close for your own good.

"You're saying that you can somehow… divert the curse?"

You frown at his choice of words at first, but you end up seeing what he means.

"I guess that's one way to put it. The curse will feed off the ancient magic."

He narrows his eyes at you, finally seeing the catch. 

"But I can't produce it, so it'll run out."

You nod at his conclusion, confirming it.

"That's why it's not a cure, only a temporary solution. It'll feed off me. I don't know how it'll work with distance restrictions but I think that, within the castle, it might work as I plan." You're done explaining and hope he doesn't think you're deranged or anything.

Sharp takes a moment to process this. He's now leaning against the desk, his arms folded against his chest. The silence stretches and it's making you uneasy. On top of that, the mark on your wrist has been acting up again for a couple of minutes now so you start to fidget with your robe's sleeve. 

"Well, I guess I'll give you time to think about it. And I'm sorry I didn't come to you with this solution last year or something."

Your words seem to bring him out of his reverie because he snaps his head to look at you again. 

"I want to try it. Temporary or not, I'd like to see if it works. If it does, it may very well be the foundation for a cure." He says and you smile at him.

“Well, maybe sit down and show me where it hurts the most.”

Sharp hesitates for a moment, questioning whether this is appropriate or not. You’re his student, after all.

“Feels like I’m taking advantage of you.” He says, his tone light. He turns the chair before taking a seat behind his desk.

You shake your head.

“Don’t even think about concerning yourself with that. I offered.” You wave your hand before kneeling on the floor in front of him. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Was that a wandless, wordless cushioning charm?” He asks, a note of surprise tainting his voice.

“Yes.” Is your short reply, and you motion for him to stretch his leg. You close your eyes and hover your hands over the limb, trying to get a feel of what’s in there. You feel it on his thigh, right above his knee. “I feel it. It’s strong.”

“You tell me.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm but you don’t comment on it.

“I’ll start now. This might hurt.”

You don’t give him time to reply and start working on pouring your magic in there. He hisses immediately and out of the corner of your eye, you see him grip the edge of his desk. Luckily for him, it’s not a long process and, before he can start spitting curse words out, it’s over.

“Was that it?” He asks instead, eyeing his leg with suspicion.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” You repeat his words. “How does it feel?”

Instead of replying, he stands up and takes a few steps around the office. You take a couple of steps back, out of his way. 

He’s not limping , you think as you feel immense happiness bursting in your chest. 

Fuck, it did work,  he thinks, turning around to look at you.  I knew she was incredible, but this is the stuff of my wildest dreams.

“I don’t feel any pain.” Sharp says, and it’s clear that he’s surprised by it. You can’t blame him. After all these years, he’s probably almost given up on never feeling pain in his leg. But here you are.

You clear your throat before speaking.

“Well, I hope it’s lasting, at least. I mean, that it really works how I mean it to work.”

“Thank you, Miss Jones. How do you feel?” He asks, a frown on his face. “Do you feel any different?”

You decided not to insult his intelligence by telling him the truth. You think he’ll appreciate it.

“Oh, I feel the pull, alright. But I don’t think it’s concerning.”

“That’s for me to decide.” He sounds commanding and you dig your nails into the palm of your hands because his voice does things to you it probably shouldn’t. It’s  inappropriate .

“I’m sorry?” 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to come down here every day for half an hour or so so that I can monitor you. I know you’re quite the duelist and I overheard you tell Mr Sallow the other day that… how did you put it? Miss the action these days?”

You groan inelegantly and roll your eyes at that.

“So you want to duel me to see if my magic is working correctly?”

“Precisely. I miss the action myself, if I’m being honest.”

“I doubt a fit man like you is missing any action, sir.” You mutter under your breath.

He tilts his head to the side, intrigued.

“What was that?” He asks, taking a step towards you.

You shake your head and move around him, walking to the door.

“That was my cue to leave. Natty is waiting for me.” You say, turning the knob and opening the door. 

Notes:

You've made it this far? Thanks for that!
Comments, kudos and the like are always very much appreacited.
See you in the next one!

Chapter 2: Shaken

Summary:

The plot fucking thickens.

Notes:

Hey!
Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos! I'm really grateful for those.
I couldn't wait to post again and since I'm writing at a decent speed I thought I could indulge.
This chapter picks up right at what the last one ended, so I advise to go read that last bit before you start this one. You know, to jog the memory.
I apologise for any mistakes you may find.
Enjoy!

“Wait, Miss Jones.” He holds up a hand, effectively stopping you from leaving. He then walks to one of the shelves that store a myriad of potions and salves and ointments. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your soulmate mark is bothering you.”

Your eyes widen at that and you close the door immediately, afraid someone might be in the potions classroom and overhear anything.

“Can you  please  not say that word?” You whisper harshly, aware you’re now in a panic.

“Which one?  Soulmate ?” He asks with a teasing smirk. He grabs a small pot and makes his way to you.

“Yes, that one.” You say through gritted teeth, pulling up your robe sleeve and extending your arm towards him because he’s asking for it. He dips his middle finger into the pot and starts massaging what looks like a salve on your mark.

“This will help with the itchiness.” He says casually, his finger slowly making circles on your skin and it almost seems deliberate. You have to look away, and you do, but you make the mistake of looking at him. He's staring right at you but it's nothing like before. You've never seen this look in his eyes. It makes you feel  things.  You'll definitely be revisiting this moment the next time you have your hand between your legs.

“T-Thank you.” You whisper, afraid your voice will crack if you speak any louder.

“You know, between being able to wield ancient magic, performing wandless magic like that at your age and having a soulmate mark, the latter is probably the most common one, Miss Jones. And I can assure you that you’re not the only one in this school to carry one.”

You look back at him, surprised at this revelation. You were so upset when you found out about soulmate marks a year ago you hadn’t really stopped to think that maybe you weren’t the only one this time. That maybe others at Hogwarts have them and just don’t talk about it.

“Surely you’ve read on the matter?” He asks, an eyebrow raised at your confusion. “Not everyone has one, but it’s not as if it’s a 1 in 100 chance either. Although…” He smirks again with the smuggest look on his face, staring down at your wrist. “Tut-tut, that’s not really looking like Sebastian Sallow, now, is it?”

You go slack-jawed in that instant. You can’t believe Professor Sharp just cracked a joke. That’s what he just did, right? He can’t possibly think that you like your friend  in that way .

“You…” You start, trying to stifle your laughter. “You’re not serious, right?” 

By the look on his face, he was only half-joking. Clearly, he said it as a joke but he probably really thinks there’s something more going on between you and Sebastian.

“I apologise if I overstepped, I didn’t mean to-” He rushes to apologise, but you shake your head. 

“It was a nice joke.” You say, smiling. Then staring at your wrist, you add “You think the snake means Slytherin, sir?”

Professor Sharp stops massaging the salve into the skin, seeing that it’s now been absorbed. It doesn’t itch anymore and you hope the effect is lasting. He puts the lid back on the pot and goes to put it away.

“I think it can mean any number of things, but seeing that you’re a Slytherin, I’d say so. You’re one, and whoever your soulmate is, he's probably one too. You both have that in common. Hence the snake as a symbol.”

You suck your bottom lip in, thoughtful. Nothing new on that account, then. The letter on both sides are obviously your soulmate’s initials, so yes, definitely not Sebastian. 

“I suggest you do some reading on soulmate marks and the lore. Clearly, you’re still lacking.” His voice brings you back to reality. “If it’s itching, it’s probably for a reason.”

You shake your head in denial, now suddenly upset. 

“This? It means nothing. I'm not gonna wait around for someone I don't even know and forget to live my life. It just ain't happening.” The words leave your mouth and they’re cold, but they're the hard truth. “I’d like the instructions for that salve, though. Please.”

Something flashes in his eyes for a second there, but it’s gone before you can understand what it is. He nods and walks back to his desk, his demeanour completely changed.

“I’ll have it ready for you when you come back tomorrow, Miss Jones.” He says before grabbing his quill and going back to whatever it is he was doing before you arrived.

You nod and leave, closing the door quietly behind you. You can’t help thinking you just did something wrong.

---

The next week passes in a blur. You dutifully meet Professor Sharp every evening for your duel sessions and you’re obviously looking forward to those. If you did something wrong the last time you were in his office, it doesn’t show in his approach to you. You enjoy dueling him and you can see that he likes it as well. You give as good as you get, offering him a challenge, so on the last day you suggest making this a thing. He seems unsure at first, even mentioning that it’s probably inappropriate and unfair to your other classmates, but in the end, he yields, a knowing smirk on his lips. It’s a rare occurrence and you catch yourself thinking that it’s a pity he doesn’t do it more often. You both end up agreeing to meet up once a week on Friday evenings unless something comes up. You hope nothing comes up in the near future because you definitely want to see him wearing nothing but his trousers and a loose shirt, instead of his usual three-piece suit and overcoat. It's unbuttoned at the top and you get to see a bit of skin.

Fuck, I get to see a bit of skin , you think, catching yourself licking your lips at the sight. You wonder if he's aware of how enticing he is dressed like that. 

Everything about that last duel is perfect until it isn’t. It is perfect until he misses a spell by a meter or two and you immediately know something is very wrong. Instead of firing a spell, you stop and your eyes focus on him. You find him standing, apparently unharmed, but his right hand is shaking.

You hear him mutter something, and you think it was something like  fuck, not now , but you can’t be sure, you’re too far away. So you run towards him, shortening the distance between you two.

He raises his left hand.

“Don’t.” He says and then takes a deep breath, which apparently helps with the shaking because it diminishes visibly. “Miss Jones, we’re done for today.”

“But, Professor-” You try, but he cuts you.

“Please, Isabelle. Leave.” He asks, turning around, hiding from you.

So you leave, heart heavy, and you’re not happy, because something is definitely up. You're a bit hurt, too, because he apparently doesn't trust you enough to talk about this.

What the fuck just happened? What is he hiding?  You ask yourself, rushing to the dungeons. You think about going up to the infirmary to call Madam Blainey, but you decide against it since it was  definitely  not what he asked of you.  Did I cause this? 

His hand had been shaking so badly he’d almost dropped his wand. You start thinking that maybe it’s related to what you did on his leg. Did the curse move up to his hand? 

Can it even do that?

You have so many questions, but you’re physically exhausted. Your body doesn’t have the energy to match your inquisitive brain, so you continue to the dungeons, fighting the urge to turn around and go to the library and sneak into the restriction section to read up more on curses and what they can and cannot do. 

In any case, you know you’ll probably think a lot more clearly in the morning, after that promising shower and a good night’s rest. 

Yes, that’ll have to do .

---

Dinah Hecat is finishing correcting what is a very well-written essay on the main aspects of the Unforgivable Curses when she hears a knock on her door. She looks up from the parchment paper and puts down her quill, wondering who might be at this hour. The clock on her desk shows nine-thirty. 

“Come in.”

The door opens, revealing Aesop Sharp on the other side. He makes his way in and closes the door silently behind him. Dinah is surprised.

“Well, can’t say I was expecting you at this time, Aesop. It’s not Thursday.” She says, taking off her glasses and putting them away.

“Yes, sorry to show up like this, but I really need to discuss something with you.” Sharp says, removing his overcoat and hanging it.

He looks a bit disoriented, and Dinah doesn’t quite know what to make of it. It must be something serious, by the look on his face. She stands up and goes to join him by the fireplace, where she points at one of the armchairs for him to sit down.

“Can I interest you in something to drink? Tea or-”

“Do you have firewhisky?”

“Oh, dear.” She lets out in realisation, raising her eyebrows. Serious, indeed. “Sure.”

She pours them both a glass of firewhisky each and goes sit with him, handing him his. He thanks her and immediately takes a sip, clenching and unclenching his right hand. She notices this but chooses not to comment on it. Not right away, anyway.

“So? What brings you here?”

Aesop changes positions and sits on the edge of the armchair, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. 

“Have you ever known someone who resisted a soulmate bond?” He asks, his eyes fixated on the roaring fire, his voice only a tone above a whisper.

Dinah eyes him, suspicious.

“As in, tried to fight the bond?”

“Yes.”

Her brown eyes narrow further.

“I did. Someone I worked with at the Ministry, back in the day.” She ends up replying, before taking a sip of her whisky. Then she asks the obvious question. “Why are you asking?” 

He sighs, then finally looks her back in the eye. In his gaze, Dinah finds the answer to her question and her eyes go wide.

“By Merlin! You did not!” She sounds amused, which greatly contrasts with how gloomy her friend sitting across her is. “Alright, who is she?”

“You've got another thing coming if you think I’m telling you that.” He says, dropping his head, and hiding his face in his hands.

She takes another sip because this is getting good.

“Well, I see that’s not really the issue here. Clearly, you decided to resist the bond and I guess that if you’re here… Yes, you’ve started to feel the effects, have you not, Aesop?”

He doesn’t respond, which is answer enough for her. She continues.

“It only gets worse, you know? It’s not meant to be resisted. Once you know, you know. And there’s no going back.” She tells him, grabbing the pack of cigarettes lying on the side table and lighting one up. She takes a drag. “I assume you’re feeling the shakes, yes?”

He looks up again and nods. She offers him a cigarette, which he accepts. He doesn’t often indulge, but if there’s an occasion where he feels he needs one, this is it. 

“What’s next?”

“I’m not sure it’s the same for everybody, every phase is anyone’s guess, really, but I suppose it’s the cold. It comes from inside and there’s nothing you can do to assuage it. No blanket or fire will warm you up.”

“Did they survive?” Aesop asks, sounding defeated. In the end, it all came down to this. Could he endure it and survive?

Dinah scoffs at that.

“She sure did. She told her. Her soulmate And that was that.” Another long drag and she leans forward, mimicking his position. “Listen to me very carefully. You only have one option, and that is to tell her, whoever she is. Because trying to live with the consequences of resisting a bond like this? That’s no life at all, Aesop.”

He opens his mouth to argue with that, but she lifts one hand to make him stop. Surely one could find a way to mitigate the effects?

“I know what you’re going to say. Of course, you want to find a solution for this problem, but not all problems come with solutions. This is very powerful ancient magic that’s been around ever since the beginning.” She emphasises this last bit, trying to impart to her words the importance of what she’s saying.

He leans back and raises his hands as if he’s found the solution to every problem that has ever existed on the planet. 

“Maybe that’s the key, then! If it’s ancient magic, maybe there’s someone who can help.”

Dinah arches an eyebrow. 

“Isabelle Jones? For someone you used to call reckless a lot, you’re surprisingly dependent on her these days. Quite reliable and resourceful, is she not?”

He has the decency to look ashamed at his friend’s words.

“She offered.” He mutters, referring to the sudden recovery of his leg. People had noticed, obviously, but only his coworkers had asked him about it, and so he'd told them the truth. 

She waved her hand in front of her, chuckling. 

“I’m just teasing.” She says, and they’re silent for a moment afterwards. There’s only the sound of the logs crackling in the fire filling the room. Eventually, Aesop stands up, placing the now empty glass on the centre table. 

“Thank you for this moment, Dinah. I really needed answers.” 

“Don’t mention it. It’s what friends are for, and you know where to find me.” She stands up as well and walks him to the door. Knowing how stubborn Aesop is, she grabs his arm. “If you must resist the bond, avoid spending time with her. The more time you two spend together, the more aggressive the bond will act towards you. The bond knows what it wants. Do you?”

He gives her a pained look, laughing mirthlessly. 

“I do. Merlin knows I do. And I want it  badly.”  He says and Dinah is surprised at how much desire that one word carries. “But she doesn’t. So…”

“You can’t know that-”

“Oh, but I do.” He cuts her. “As for spending less time with her, well… That’s not really an option, either.”

At that moment, Dinah’s suspicions are confirmed.

“Ah. I thought that might be the case.” She sighs, feeling sad at this turn of events. “I assume she’s a 7th year, yes? She’ll be gone by June. We have little more than six months left.”

They hug and he leaves, already planning a visit to the restricted section. He’s sure to find something -  anything  - that might ease the symptoms, if not suppress them. He’s not about to let the cold come and settle. 

Notes:

I hope you had as much fun reading this chapter as I did writing this. I guess it's one of my faves so far!
Comments, kudos and the like are always very much appreacited.
See you soon!

Chapter 3: Devastated

Notes:

Hey everyone!
Thanks so much for the comments and kudos!
This chapter is a slow one, but I'll just let you know that I'm in the process of writing the action ahead.
I apologise for any mistakes.
Enjoy!

A couple of days later and Thursday finds you in the potions classroom, occupying the potions station at the corner. When you’d arrived, Professor Sharp had been there, sitting behind his desk, so deep in his work he’d barely acknowledged your arrival. So you quietly set up your stations and started working on that salve he’d given you the instructions for.

You’re almost an hour into your efforts when someone disrupts the silence you’re both working in. It’s a sixth-year Slytherin, if you remember correctly. 

The girl enters the classroom and goes straight to Sharp’s desk, so intent on it that you don’t think she even realised you’re there.

“Professor Sharp, may I talk to you for a minute?”

Sharp looks up at the student in front of him, an eyebrow already raised at the unwelcome interruption.

“Do I have a choice, Miss Lewis? Go ahead.” He says, his voice dripping with indifference edging on annoyance.

“Well…” Amy Lewis - you remember now - starts, leaning forward with her hands on the desktop. “The Yule Ball is right around the corner and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

Immediately, Sharp’s eyes widen to a comical size. You have the same reaction, but Sharp recovers far more quickly, regaining his composure in a millisecond. You can’t do it as fast. You’re completely floored by that request and it wasn’t even directed at you.

Like, what the actual fuck , you think.

“Miss Lewis, I have no idea what has given you the idea that that’s a reasonable request. As you  obviously  can’t imagine, that’s highly inappropriate.”

Your constant use of the word  inappropriate  is what is inappropriate , you think, remembering all the other times he’s said it to you during a conversation. It always makes you think of all the  inappropriate  things you want him to do to you. Oh, the possibilities.  If he only knew.

“But, Professor Sharp, sir, please-” 

“That’s enough!” Sharp hissed, standing up abruptly from his chair, the sound of it scraping against the floor making you wince. 

He points to the classroom door. 

“Get out now before you end up in detention until the end of the school year.” 

“I- Yes, sir.” Lewis says and turns around to leave. That’s when she notices you and realises that she's had an audience all along. Her eyes go wide, but she raises her chin in an unnecessary display of confidence she probably doesn’t feel and leaves the classroom in a rush, as fast as she walked in. 

You look at your teacher to gauge his reaction and find him staring at you. You blush and quickly look down at your cauldron, finding out that you’ve reached the final stage of the concoction and it’s now time to add your powdered ashwinder’s eggs. You do this just in time and it’s with a sense of satisfaction that you watch as the liquid in the cauldron thickens, reaching the desired consistency. 

“That looks perfect.” 

You let out a yelp because you hadn’t heard him move all the way from his desk to your workstation and he’s now standing next to you.

“T-Thanks.” You stutter, nervous because he’s so close. 

“I’m sorry you witnessed that.” He apologises, trying for indifference but you know that he’d much rather you hadn’t seen what just happened. 

“Well… I was floored. Not in a million years I thought that one of us would come here and ask you to the ball. Let alone personally! I have to take my hat off to her, she’s got some nerve.” You say, shaking your head in amusement. “I imagine this isn’t the first time a student asked you to the ball?”

He frowns, clearly thinking you're mocking him. 

“Of course it is. Do you find this amusing, Miss Jones? Because I don’t.”

“That I find surprising. But I imagine they’d do it by letter, rather than like this.”

“What’s so surprising?”

“That nobody has ever asked the tall, dark and handsome teacher to the ball.”

At this, his frown deepens and he now seems downright angry at you. You realise you may have crossed a line with those words. 

“I don’t appreciate your jesting and I was definitely not expecting such an attitude from you.”

“I’m not jesting, professor." You say, giving him a significant look. "You’ve got to be the ultimate crush material for us schoolgirls in this school. I thought you knew.” 

And you’re being honest. You’d thought nothing escaped Professor Sharp, him being the perceptive ex-auror that he is. 

He’s not quick enough to reply and you realise that you’ve effectively stunned him with this bit of information. He’s got this conflicted expression on his face, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not to believe you. Eventually, he licks his lips and you can’t help but follow his tongue as he does so. He then speaks.

“And when you say ‘us schoolgirls’, are you including yourself in that little group?” He asks, a hand on the top of the potions station as he leans closer. His eyes are focused on yours and you can’t look away, not even as you feel a blush rise on your cheeks and want to just hide. You decide to give him the truth, because anything short of that would just be plain disrespectful. You can’t lie to his face.

“Ever since fifth year.” You whisper, also leaning closer. “But don’t worry, Professor. I won’t bother you asking to come with me to the Yule Ball.”

He chuckles at that and something catches your eye, so you look down. His hand is shaking.

“It’s shaking again.” You say, worry pouring into your voice.

He removes the hand from the countertop, in an effort to hide it from your view.

“It’s nothing, it’ll stop in a bit.” He says, offhandedly. “Are you done here, Miss Jones?”

There it is again, that avoidance , you think, frowning. “I’m not. Let me help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” It sounds final in his voice, but you won’t be so easily dissuaded. 

“You can’t know that.” You say through almost gritted teeth. It’s starting to get on your nerves, his stubbornness. 

“But I do!” Sharp counters, turning around and going back to his desk. 

“Why are you so fucking stubborn?” It comes out, it really does, and you sound exasperated. 

His head snaps, and he’s staring right back at you, his eyes narrowed. He looks positively angry. 

“What did you just say to me?”

You regret every word, of course you do, so you do the only plausible thing.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-” You start, but to whom are you lying? Of course you meant it. “I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

Does this make it any better? 

By the look on his face, I’d think it doesn’t , you think.

“Twenty points from Slytherin, Miss Jones, and consider yourself lucky for not getting detention. Now get out of my classroom, I don’t want to see you again before your next potions class, is that clear?”

Your hands are curled into fists so tight your nails sink into your skin. It hurts, but not nearly as much as the words he directed at you. Your lips are pressed into a thin line and your eyes sting. You don’t think you can speak right now, so you just nod. You make quick work of getting your things and flee the classroom, not without noticing that his skin is now pale and his lips almost purple. You still want to go back and offer your help, he clearly needs it, but you still have some pride left and you intend to keep it.

---

The weekend goes by in a blur. You go to Hogsmeade with your friends and you’re very grateful for the welcome distraction it provides. You’re trying very hard to put  everything  that happened in that classroom in the farthest corner of your mind, locked away in a box, hopefully forever. 

All your friends can talk about is the Yule Ball. You even accompany Poppy and Natty to Gladrags in their pursuit of a dress to take to the party. You already decided that you’re not going, especially since you’ve got a lead on a poacher camp on Clagmar Coast that you want to investigate and possibly bring down. Poacher camps are fewer and fewer nowadays but they’re still around and whenever you get the chance you like to go on the adventure to make the world a safer place. 

You think you’ve done a pretty good job at pretending that you’re totally fine in front of your friends until Wednesday rolls in and Ominis finds you sitting all alone by the fireplace, in the common room. You’re sitting on the floor, crosslegged, with a book on your lap. It’s almost 1 am, but you haven’t really noticed. You also haven’t noticed him approaching.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” He asks and you jump in your place, hurting your arse in the process. 

“Ominis! What the hell!” You whisper, furious that he’s scared you like that. “Make some noise while you walk!”

He chuckles lightly and sits down next to you, pulling his knees up to his chest and getting comfortable.

“Sorry about that.” He apologises, not looking at you. You see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, so you’re not one hundred per cent sure he’s being honest in his apology. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

You sigh and close the book you’d been reading, setting it aside. 

“It’s Sharp.” You simply reply, knowing that it’s pointless to try and hide anything from Ominis. He’s more perceptive than most people, even without his sight. “He’s being difficult.”

Chuckling again, your friend replies.

“When is he not?”

You turn to look at him and chuckle as well, conceding.

“Point taken. I should’ve said that he’s being  particularly  difficult. But I’m dealing with it. Thanks for asking, though.” You move a bit closer and place your head on his shoulder. 

“I care about you, Belle. And I sensed something was amiss. I suspect I wasn’t the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” You whisper, your eyes focused on the flames. “Fuck, I have to write him a letter and I don’t feel like it.”

“Hm? Why?” He asks, visibly curious.

So you tell him about infusing Professor Sharp’s leg with ancient magic and how you believe there’s a distance restriction tied to it and that you should warn him about going out of the castle on Friday night. Ominis urges you to be very careful when going out and that you should always tell someone when you’re going on what can very well be a dangerous adventure. You promise to do so, even if your expeditions are now few and far between.

The next day, Potions is a tense affair. You sit in your usual place, with Sebastian next to you, and you dutifully pay attention, not wanting to be called out again. Whenever there’s a question, you don’t raise your arm to answer and Professor Sharp doesn’t call your name either, so there’s that. You notice that he doesn't look any better than yesterday, but you force yourself to think it's none of your business. Once the bell rings, you’re amongst the first to rush outside. 

You write him that letter you've been meaning to, just a short missive informing him that you’ll be out of the castle tomorrow night and that he might feel pain in his leg again. That it’ll be a good way to test the magic’s boundaries. 

Not long after, you receive a letter in response. You open it and immediately furrow your eyebrows. 

 

Dear Miss Jones,

 

Absolutely not. You’re not to leave the castle after curfew, least of all alone. 

 

Sincerely,

Aesop Sharp

 

You grit your teeth, displeased by his reply. But were you expecting him to readily agree? No, you weren't. So you grab a piece of parchment and your quill and immediately start scribbling down your reply.

 

Dear Professor Sharp,

 

I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was merely informing you about my plans because they might have an impact on your life. Seeing that you’ll be chaperoning tomorrow night’s event, I assumed you’d prefer to be prepared, should the need arise. It is futile to send any more letters.

 

Best regards,

Isabelle Jones

 

You smirk, pleased with your reply. If he does attempt to send a letter to dissuade you, you’ll just ignore it. You seal the letter and tie it to the owl’s leg.

“There you go, Achilles. Don’t wait for a reply.” You tell the owl before letting it go. 

You go to the Room of Requirement, where you spend the rest of your day training. You work out and improve your spellwork. It’s good preparation for tomorrow and it’s also a very good way of hiding from Sharp. You’re not sure he won’t try to look for you around the castle and in the dungeons, so you play it safe by staying in the only place in the castle where you’re fairly sure he won’t find you. The last thing you need now is more drama

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
I'm going to try and make up for this slow chapter by posting the next one sooner rather than later.
Comment and kudos have a special place in my heart.
See you later this week!

Chapter 4: Hurt

Notes:

Hey there, it's me!
Thank you all for your kind words in that last chapter, I hope this one makes up for it!
Sorry for any mistakes you find.
Enjoy!

You are right, of course, even if you can’t know for sure. Professor Sharp has been looking for you ever since that second letter you sent him. He looks for you most of Thursday and all of Friday, to no avail. He tries to catch you between classes, but when he arrives at whatever classroom you’re supposed to be in, he’s always already too late. 

He then turns to your friends and starts asking about your whereabouts, but they all reply the same - they don’t know, because you didn’t tell them.

He’s sick with worry by nightfall. He’s supposed to get ready for this stupid ball, to get out there and chaperone the other students, but he doesn’t want to do that. They don’t need him, they’re not in any danger, but you might be. 

“Fuck!” He yells at no one, after trying to set his bowtie straight for the umpteenth time. He’s growing frustrated with each attempt and he tries to blame it on his efforts, but deep down he knows that it’s because his mind is elsewhere. 

Is she still here? Is she already gone? What if they’re too many for her? She’s out there alone , he thinks, taking a seat on his bed. He throws the bowtie carelessly on the floor and sinks his face in his hands. 

There are no words that can describe the regret he feels for having treated you the way he did the last time they spoke. You crossed a line, but you'd been right. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to forgive himself if anything,  anything at all , happens to you. 

She’s strong and intelligent, give her some credit , a voice in the back of his mind says. 

A knock on the door brings him out of his musings. He quickly stands up and walks to the door, opening it.

“Dinah.” He greets her, looking surprised at seeing her there.

“Are you ready?” She asks, giving him a look. Something isn’t right and it's written all over his face.

“Y-Yes.” He replies, after recollecting himself. They were supposed to meet here before going down to the Great Hall. Right.

Okay, now she knows that something is definitely amiss and she’s having none of it.

“Alright, what’s going on? You’re clearly not  here .” She’s got this no-nonsense look on her face as she says this.

Sharp knows it’s no use lying to her. 

“Jones is missing.” He says, flatly. He won’t lie, but he can still try to play the nonchalant route. 

At this, Hecat frowns. 

“Isabelle?” She asks and when he nods, she proceeds. “What do you mean, missing?”

“She’s gone out of the castle to investigate a poacher camp down south.” 

Her expression lightens, clearly not worried.

“Well, if you know about her whereabouts to that extent she’s not really missing now, is she?” Dinah points out, reaching out to smooth the lapel of Sharp’s coat. “Can we go now? I can do without getting an earful from Black for being late to the ball.”

He looks at her as if she’s grown two heads. 

“That’s it? You’re not worried that a student is out-”

Dinah cuts him.

“Aesop, please. Did you see what she did to that goblin Ranrok in her fifth year? If there’s someone I’d be worried about, it’d be whoever is on the other tip of her wand.” And with a pointed look, she turns around and starts making her way down the hall, without waiting for him.

---

During the whole event, he’s consumed with worry. He’s not really there, and can’t even focus whenever his colleagues try to engage with him in conversation. It’s Abraham who has to stop Garreth Weasley from spiking the punch even though Aesop is just standing by the beverages table. 

He’s been enduring this whole thing for three hours now when he sees something curious. He spots Sebastian Sallow moving away from the dance floor, where he’s spent most of his evening dancing with his group of friends. He makes his way out of the Great Hall and he seems in a rush too. Might be nothing, but Sharp doesn’t believe in coincidences, so he too makes his way out of there, telling Professor Garlick that he’s just going out to get some fresh air. This is also partially true, since he doesn’t think he can spend any more time in there. 

Once he’s out the door, he looks around but Sallow is nowhere to be found.

Bloody hell, took too long , he thinks, making his way up the starts anyway. He keeps going up when at some point he hears noises. 

Eventually, Sharp reaches the seventh floor and continues down the hall. He’s about to turn a corner when he stops abruptly. He was hoping to find Sallow, but he ends up finding you instead. You look a mess, all dishevelled. He opens his mouth to speak, to yell at you, but he stops  breathing  when he sees the bare stone wall in front of you transform. He hadn’t even stopped to think why on Earth you were pacing back and forth without doing anything. Until now, that is.

He looks at the scene unravelling in front of him in awe. There’s a door with intricate designs now where once stood nothing but a wall. He watches as you push the door and make your way into what he presumes is a room. That’s where doors usually lead. 

What in the bloody hell…  He asks himself too stunned to move. 

He only realises he’s been standing there motionless and a witness when the door suddenly starts to disappear, eventually giving place to stone instead of wood. 

“No.” He hears himself say to no one. “No, no, no, it was right there!” 

Sharp moves from where he was, well, hiding, and goes stand in the same place where you stood, just moments ago. He reaches out and touches the cold wall, trying to feel something. There’s nothing abnormal there. 

How odd , he thinks, frowning.  Where did you go?

Then, Sharp starts pacing, just like he’d seen you do. After going back and forth a few times, he stops, frustrated. He’s sure you weren’t  just pacing . He tries doing again.

Where did you go, Isabelle? Where are you? I really need to talk to you, I need answers.

Suddenly, he stops again, but, this time, it’s not frustration at all on his face. It’s amazement. His eyes are wide open as he watches the same door appear once more. He doesn’t hesitate and pushes it, letting himself into a very large room. And if the door situation had left him petrified with wonder, this room he finds himself in right now leaves him speechless. 

It’s large, somewhat spacious and apparently well-lived. There’s a potion station with a cauldron in a corner, a few tables with magical plants, with Dittanty amongst them, a few full bookcases where one wouldn’t be able to fit a single book even with a shrinking spell, a Christmas tree in the middle and a desk in another corner. 

After taking a moment to take it all in, Sharp finally closes his mouth and starts walking around. He notices the stairs and the corridor that seems to lead to another room. Since he doesn’t find you in this first room, he can only assume that you’ve made your way down that corridor and into the next room, so that’s where he goes. He realises with satisfaction that his hunch was right when he sees various pieces of clothing on the floor, making a trail in the direction he’s going. 

This just keeps getting odder and odder , he thinks, taking a closer look to check the clothes for any signs of blood. He doesn’t see any, so he continues. Reaching the other room, he immediately notices a bed in the corner, neatly made, a sofa near a fireplace and more clothes, leading to a dressing screen.

He’s about to take another step, but he freezes in place when he hears it. You’re  moaning .

“Hmm… Yes…”

It’s your voice, coming from behind the folding screen. He hears something else, like water moving. You’re taking a bath, he concludes. Or maybe not just that, if the  whine  that leaves your mouth is anything to go by. 

“Oh… Oh, fuck, yes… So good, so fucking good…” You keep chanting, and the water moves more vigorously. “Merlin, yes, just like that.”

Sharp feels like he’s just been punched in the stomach.

She’s with someone .

He starts pacing backwards, wanting to leave the room as soon as possible.

She’s with someone.

The thought fills his mind and it’s almost too much to bear. He finally turns around and rushes out of there, one shaking hand now clutching his chest.

It's probably Sebastian Sallow .

It hurts,  really  hurts. He doesn’t understand. He never even read anything about this. Was this what rejection by your soulmate  felt  like?

He makes his way to his bed-chambers in a rush, not quick enough in his opinion, and once in there, he pours himself a glass of firewhisky. He lets himself fall down on his favourite armchair in front of the fire and downs the whole thing in one go. As the liquid goes down his throat, burning, he thinks that his chest aches less now, although he’s not sure. What he knows for sure is that, come morning, it will hurt a lot more. Relief like this is only ever temporary.

---

You wake up the next morning way past your usual time. It’s Saturday, so you’re not worried about having missed the alarm. You check the time and realise it’s almost lunchtime.

No point in going down for breakfast, then , you think, stretching on the bed. You look around and close your eyes again, debating whether or not you’re still sleepy enough to just turn around, say fuck off to the day and sleep it away. You’re in the privacy of the Room of Requirement, so you could totally do it. 

After a couple of minutes, you decide against it. Despite yesterday’s adventure, you feel well-rested and ready to start the day, so you go take a shower before going down to the Great Hall. You remember about the Yule Ball and you’re suddenly dying to know how it went and how much fun it was. 

You take your usual seat at the Slytherin table. None of your friends are there yet, so you wait a bit, even though you’re starving. Roughly five minutes later, you hear the back door open and a few professors come in and take their seats at the high table. You shrink in your seat the moment you notice Professor Sharp is among them. You look away, suddenly finding the hem of your jumper’s sleeve the world’s most fascinating thing. 

You’re so actively trying to distract yourself that you don’t feel his gaze on you. 

Sharp feels no better than yesterday. His chest still aches and his hand hasn’t stopped shaking since, but he’s somewhat relieved at finally seeing you alive and well with his own eyes. 

“Looks like Miss Jones is back in one piece.” Professor Hecat’s voice brings Sharp out of his contemplative state. 

He clenches his left hand harder around his right wrist, trying to stop it from shaking.

“I see that.” He merely says, looking down at his lap. When he feels Dinah leaning closer, he turns his head slightly in her direction. 

“You should tell her, you know?” She whispers, and when he meets her eyes and opens his mouth to protest, she continues. “You’re not fooling me, so don’t even try. Now eat, you look dreadful.” 

“Thanks, mom.” He grunts, helping himself to some potatoes and meatloaf. His right hand is completely useless, so he does everything with his left one. Dinah doesn’t comment on this, merely sighing. She knows how stubborn her friend can be and she doubts he’ll heed her advice, but she thinks ultimately he’ll have to do something about it. The magic in that soulmate mark of his will see to it that he does.

You’ve been stealing furtive glances at Professor Sharp for a while now and you’ve noticed. Of course you have. And you’re not stupid, so you know one plus one equals two. The shakes must have got worse, up to a point where they’re now unbearable. 

 “Belle? Belle, are you even listening?” Sebastian asks, reaching out and touching your hand. 

You turn your attention to him.

“Hm?” You ask, dumbly. Ominis snorts.

“No, Sebastian, she’s not listening to your rambling. She’s probably mooning over Professor Sharp on the staff table.” He says, cheekily. You make a face at him, looking positively affronted by what he’s just said. He just looks downright smug.

“I am not!” You deny vehemently.  This time, anyway.

“She totally is.” Ominis whispers to Sebastian, just loud enough so that you hear, to aggravate you even more. 

“Ugh! You and your stupid smile!” You lean forward and hit him playfully on the arm from across the table. “I  was  distracted, that I admit. You were saying, Seb?”

“I  was  saying that I can’t wait for next Saturday to go home for Christmas. I’m tired of studying, I need to get out of here and see different things. Seventh year sucks, man.”

“I second that.” Ominis says, lifting his goblet in acknowledgement and sipping from it.

“You just don’t study enough.” You tease, raising one defiant eyebrow. 

“With what time? There’s twenty-four hours in a day, one can only do so much in that time.” Sebastian quips and you roll your eyes. 

“I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you to fit some studying into your schedule, I really can’t. Poor you.”

“She’s a nuisance, this one. Why did we adopt her, again?” Sebastian asks Ominis.

“You’re asking me? It was you!” The blonde young man points out, accusingly. 

“Yeah, it was you, Seb.” You agree. 

“I’d almost forgotten. Such a long time ago.” Sebastian crosses his arms and leans forward. “Anyway, how did it go yesterday?”

Both you and Ominis mimic Sebastian, trying to get some privacy. There isn’t anyone immediately next to you, but it will help with people that might pass by.

“It was good. I took my time, sneaky little me, and took them down almost without a fight. Only one of them really posed a challenge, but he wasn’t quick enough. I freed the Thestrals and that was it. For that part, anyway.”

“For that part?” Sebastian repeats, frowning. 

“Well, I was tired, and there was a village nearby, so I walked there. I was thirsty as hell and I was done, saw no harm in drinking some water before making my way back. The streets were pretty much deserted but out of nowhere - I swear, literally nowhere, no alley or anything - comes this old lady. She points her finger in my face, almost gouges my eye out, gives me the most bizarre look and says ‘ The one you’re looking for is closer than you think’ .” You say in a raspy voice, trying to imitate the old lady. “And she’s gone. The whole interaction lasted, like, five seconds.”

Sebastian and Ominis don’t react immediately, they just stare at you for a bit, before finally breaking out laughing. 

“Oh, Merlin, what the hell!” Sebastian says, laughing hard. 

“How do these things happen to you?” Ominis asks, shaking his head in clear disbelief. “What was she talking about anyway?”

You shrug, attempting to go for nonchalant.

“Fucked if I know.” You mutter, pushing your plate away. “I’ll be going now. There are some books I need to go through in the restricted section.”

Sebastian arches an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t say anything.

“Want some company?” Ominis offers.

You shake your head.

“I’ve no idea how long I’ll be down there. It’s going to be boring, anyway. You go out and enjoy the snow. I’m sure Ominis can still beat you in a snowball fight any day of the week, Seb.”

Sebastian doesn’t dignify that with an answer, opting for merely giving you the finger. Ominis, on the other hand, boos him, a smirk on his face.

“See you later, boys.” You say, standing up and leaving the table. Before you leave the Great Hall though, you look back at the staff table and find Professor Sharp already looking at you. Blushing, you quickly look away and leave. 

You're not sure if there's any truth in what that lady said to you, but if you want to find out, you're sure the restricted section is the place to look in.

Notes:

I gotta say. Poor Aesop.
But at the same time I'm just like "Don't be so fucking stubborn."
What did you guys think? I hope you had a good time!
Comments and kudos are so welcome.
See you in the next one!

Chapter 5: Trapped

Notes:

Helloooooo darlings
I'm so happy to be here again, with a new chapter~
You guys have been so kind in your comments to this work, thank you so much!
I've updated the total number of chapters this work will have, to give you an idea of how much there's left.
Enjoy this one!

You don’t spend as nearly as much time as you’d have liked in the restricted section during the weekend. Your friends go look for you before you can even get your hands on a decent book that actually has the answers you seek on Saturday afternoon. 

You and your group go out for dinner and drinks in Hogsmeade and, when you go back to the castle, you go straight to bed. Sunday is spent in London doing some Christmas shopping and sightseeing. It’s even more beautiful during the Christmas season, as is often the case with most cities. 

You spend a really good time and admit to yourself that this was much better than spending your time consumed by research in the library. You don’t have much money or many people to buy gifts for, but you take the opportunity and do your own Christmas shopping. You even buy a nice dress for yourself that you think you may put on on Christmas Eve.

You’re relatively happy in your own little world next week, this happiness only tainted by the bouts of sadness that come whenever a friend of yours mentions the Christmas break. They're all leaving and this year you've chosen to stay back at the castle.

This happiness turns into anxiety the closer Thursday is and with it potions class. You’ve done a good job at evading Professor Sharp so far. It almost seems as if he’s doing just the same. 

He totally is, it’s why this is working out so well for me , you think, turning the corner for the corridor on the seventh floor where the Room of Requirement is located. When you look at the wall, the air leaves your lungs in such a rush you almost feel yourself suffocating.  Speak of the devil.

There, leaning against the empty wall, with his arms folded and not surprised in the slightest by your sudden appearance, is Professor Sharp. He steps away and approaches you.

“I was wondering when you’d be back.” He says when he stops in front of you. He doesn’t look particularly aggravated, if at all, and that’s why you don’t panic. You hadn’t expected to see him here, of all places, and you’d hoped you’d have more time to prepare before having to talk to him. 

What he says, though, sets alarm bells ringing in your head. You’re sure you heard correctly, but that would have to mean that-

He knows.

You’ve been standing there having a debate with yourself for an abnormal amount of time and you realise that you’ve got to say something within the next five seconds or else it will look even more suspicious.

“Back for what?” You ask, but already you know it’s not a good answer. You figure it’s never good to play dumb with Sharp. “I mean, how do you know?”

“Saw you the other night.” 

You nod but don’t offer more. You don’t want to have to answer his questions. He realises this, so he continues. 

“I’m sorry for having snapped at you that day. I know you only wanted to help, but I’m not in a good place right now.” He says, not quite looking at you. You’re not surprised, you’ve always imagined he’s a very proud man. 

You quickly look over your shoulder, afraid someone’s coming. 

“You could’ve sent a letter.” You say, casually, and start pacing. Shortly after, the door appears and you open it. You gesture for him to get inside. “After you.”

Sharp nods and walks into the Room of Requirement. You follow him inside and close the door. 

“It’s quite impressive.” He says, looking around. He’s already decided that, for both of your sakes, he’s not going to disclose that he’s already been there. He doesn’t want to make you embarrassed.

“Want the grand tour of the place?” You ask, making yourself more comfortable by removing your robe and jacket. The tie follows and you end up with your sleeves rolled up. 

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” He nods, his eyes on you the whole time. 

You show him around, pointing things out, telling him all about how you came to know about the existence of this very magical place. You tell him about the beasts you used to rescue and keep in vivariums, you tell him that you’ve only kept the phoenix and one vivarium, which you now use when you want to work on your combat skills.

You end the tour when you reach the other room, making your way to the sofa near the fireplace. With a flick of your wrist, the fire comes alive. 

“This is where I come when I want to have a proper night’s rest, away from the noise of the common room and the dorm.” You explain, gesturing for the gorgeous double bed. 

“Bring many people here?” Sharp asks before he can bite his tongue. His eyes are on the bed.

You follow his gaze and you assume he’s definitely asking about boyfriends. 

“If you think I bring people here to fuck, you might as well just get on the bed, because you’re the first person I’ve invited to this place.” You deadpan, looking him in the eye.

His eyes widen and you feel the immense satisfaction of winning this round. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He hurries to say. He’s caught between your wording and the fact that you said that you’ve never had anyone over.  Was she alone the other night? Was she just relaxing in that bathtub, pleasuring herself, making those wanton little noises? Was she fingering herself? How many fingers? 

He realises what he’s thinking when his body starts to catch up with his mind. He swallows and brings a hand up to his tie, loosening it. When he next looks at you, he notices that you’re not wearing anything under your shirt. 

Fuck.

“Sure you didn’t.” That’s all you say before sitting down, one leg under your arse, your elbow on the back of the sofa. “Would you like some tea?”

He snaps back to reality and nods, not sure any sound will come out of his suddenly  very  dry mouth. He’s not usually like this, not even with women, but, somehow,  you  have this effect on him. He feels like a schoolboy with a crush.

You snap your fingers and a house elf appears. 

“Miss Jones! Wooky is happy you called.”

“Hi, Wooky. How have you been?”

“Wooky is being fine, thank you, miss.” She seems to notice Sharp sitting by your side. “Oh. Miss Jones have a guest. Most unusual.” 

You chuckle at her surprise. 

“Yes. Would you please bring us some tea?”

“Of course!” She disappears as fast as she appeared, with a crack. 

“You befriended a house elf?” He sounds surprised. You can’t blame him, it’s not a usual occurrence. 

“Yes. I sometimes go down to the kitchen to eat. I like to talk with them.”

Before Sharp can say anything, Wooky is back with a tray and gone again, before you can even put in a ‘thank you’. You serve you both tea and hand him a cup.

“I assume you didn’t stand outside for Merlin knows how long just to apologise.” You speak, after blowing your tea and taking the first sip.

“Actually, I did. And I didn’t wait for that long.” He drinks from his cup, too. You notice that he’s holding his teacup with his left hand, despite the fact that he’s right-handed. His right hand is on his lap and you can see there’s a slight tremor to it. You wonder how much concentration he’s putting into controlling the shakes. 

Despite what happened the last time you asked about it, you decide to ask again about it. It’s not like you can let it go when it’s definitely got worse. 

“I see it doesn’t go away now.”

Sharp knows immediately that you’re asking about his hand. 

“Yes.” He says, lifting it. “Professor Hecat told me this would happen.”

You furrow your eyebrows and lean closer, inspecting it.

“Don’t you know what causes it?”

“I do. But there’s nothing we can do.”

You look at him as if he’s grown two heads. 

“What?” He asks, noticing the look on your face. 

“I can’t  believe  I just heard you say that. Professor Sharp, since when are you a quitter?” 

“It’s not quitting when there isn’t a solution.”

“You didn’t give up on your leg and you didn’t know if there was a solution to be found. Why would you give up on this?” You sound every bit as exasperated as you feel because of his attitude. 

Sharp is moved by your concern. He really is. He thinks it’s extraordinary how much your brown eyes can express at this moment. He sighs, knowing a lost battle when he sees one. He extends his arm towards you.

“Have at it.”

You grin at him and scoot closer, grabbing his hand. You start focusing on it, eventually closing your eyes for better concentration. It’s hard to focus when you see him staring at you. You never liked being the centre of attention. 

A frown appears on his face as you assess the origin of the problem. Your frown deepens when you notice that there’s nothing dark in there.

“What happened to your shoulder blade? It originates from there.” You say, reaching for his shoulder and touching the back of it. 

“I’ve no idea.” He lies, smoothly. He doesn’t stutter, doesn’t even think. 

“It’s not dark magic. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s an ancient form of magic and I don’t think I can do anything about it.” 

“That’s alright.” He squeezes your hand, reassuring you. “I wasn’t expecting you to be able to do anything.”

“You’re not telling me everything.” You state as if there isn’t a shade of a doubt. 

“Can I not have secrets?” He asks you, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Of course you can, sir.” You finish your tea. “I’ve got a book I want to go over. You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. I have potions journals somewhere on the shelves.”

He shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued. 

“What’s that book about?”

“Professor Hecat found me the other day in the restricted section.” You start, putting your hair up in a ponytail, leaving only two strands of copper hair on each side of your face, framing it. “I was doing some research on soulmates and she suggested I look at the school registry book for names. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Dinah suggested that, did she?” Sharp asks, standing up as well and following you to the table where the book lies. 

“She did. She also showed me where the book was. Really helpful.” You say, opening the book. He comes to stand right next to you.

“I thought that mark meant nothing to you.” He whispers. 

You stop turning pages for a second and look at him.

“What I meant by that is that I won’t stop living my life to wait for someone I don’t even know. That I might  never  know.”

Sharp seems to consider what you’re saying. 

“That’s wise. You’re young, there’s no sense in wasting your life.” He says, his eyes moving away from yours and to the book on the table. “What are we looking for here?”

“I was thinking of looking at all the Slytherin males from the last thirty years.” You say, casually going through the book again.

“Thirty years?!” Sharp blurts, taken aback. You give him an inquisitive look, not understanding why he’s looking so shocked. "I mean, are we looking for your grandfather?"

You shake your head, finding it amusing that he'd classify himself as a grandfather. Apparently.

“Remember when I said that I have a crush on you? You think I have a crush on you but I’m interested in  boys ?” You ask, looking rather smug. “No, if I have a soulmate, he’s got to be someone tailored to my tastes, no? Someone that would fit right in with me, the same way I’d fit right in with him. That’s the way I see it.”

Your explanation does nothing to appease his state if the look on his face is anything to go by.

“I thought-” He starts, then cuts himself to gather his thoughts. “I thought you were joking. Playing along with what I said.” 

Seeing his distress, you decide that you’ve gone too far and try to save the situation. The last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable.

“Look, let’s forget I said it. I’m sorry I said anything, I didn’t really realise the position I’d probably put you in.” You don’t sound like a kicked puppy and you see that as a win. You knew he’d never see you as anything more than a student, but this feels downright humiliating. 

Sharp leans closer, his face so close to yours that you can smell him. It almost makes you dizzy, it’s intoxicating.

“Forget?” He asks, chuckling humourlessly. “I could never forget this. You know, this isn’t the first time I'm in this room. The other night I saw you come in and I followed. I took a look around. I saw the mess of clothes you left in your wake on your way to the bathtub. When I reached this room, I heard you. The sound of the water and your moans. You were moaning so prettily I thought you were with someone. I’ve never felt so  jealous  in my entire life.”

You’re floored. You can’t move. You’re not sure you can think. And he’s not done. He moves, coming to stand behind you. You feel your back against his firm chest and his mouth glued to your ear. His stubble and breath tickle and you shiver. 

“You’ve  no  idea what it felt like to think you were in there with someone. The thought of someone touching you like that doesn’t sit right with me,  at all. ” He whispers and you have to make an effort not to moan. He continues. “Tell me what you were doing in that bathtub, Miss Jones. Tell me who you were thinking about.”

Notes:

It's over. I apologise for stopping there but it was either that or cut the next chapter in half and, uh, the smut is coming and I wasn't gonna cut the smut. Sorry for this though.
Guess I'll let you guys imagine how things will go down in the next one ;)
I apologise for any mistakes you may have found.
Look forward to hearing from you!
See you in the next one!

Chapter 6: Thoroughly Fucked

Summary:

Things get pretty heated up in the Room of Requirement

Notes:

Hello, gorgeours people~
The much requested update is finally here. Your support is unmatched, I'm so very grateful.
I hope that I've done a good job with this chapter
So enjoy it <3
PS: Remember, this picks up right after where we left off, so maybe go read the last bit of that last chapter

You can’t think straight. You can’t focus. You somehow notice that he straightens himself to his full height. You relax and your head tilts back, coming to rest on his shoulder. You open your mouth to speak and that’s when you realise how dry it is. 

“I… I wasn’t just taking a bath.” You let out. It’s embarrassing that is all you can come up with right now, but your  very hot teacher  is literally behind you, asking about your dirty fantasies.

“Oh, really?” He teases you, a smirk on his lips. He brings his right arm to the front, past your shoulder and his hand wraps lightly around your neck. “Your pulse is elevated.”

“That’s all your fault.” You bite out, closing your eyes. You like the feeling of his hand on your neck. “I was thinking of you, that night. Of course I was.”

“Yes?” There's an edge to his voice, as if he's not fully under control.

“When I’m hot and wet, with two fingers in already, yeah. There’s no else I can think of.”

“Only two?” He asks, moving his hand lower, past your collarbones and your cleavage, into your shirt. He finds your left breast and palms it. He feels you trembling, so he wraps his other arm around your waist. You love how it feels to be this trapped.

“Yeah… It’s… I’ve never felt the need for more.” You manage to get out. Your breathing has become irregular and short. You let out a moan when he starts rolling your nipple between two fingers. You feel wetness pool in your underwear. “Please.”

“Please, what?” You can hear it in his voice that he’s smirking. “You haven’t told me anything yet. You have to tell me what you want.”

Again, something stops you from speaking. You open your mouth to answer but you feel his hand withdraw from your waist. You feel disappointed at this, but it’s short-lived because the next second you feel it in your left thigh and your breath hitches. His fingers start pulling the fabric of your skirt up until it reveals the flesh of your thigh. His hand stops moving, resting there.

“So?” He presses and you feel him bury his nose in your hair and inhale. “Fuck, I love how you smell. Makes me fucking want you even more.”

You open your eyes at this.

“I want to know what your stubble feels like against my inner thighs when I fuck myself on your tongue. I want to feel the pain of your cock stretching my cunt. I’m tired of having to just imagine it.”

He’s quiet for a moment and, although you can’t see his face, it’s because he’s surprised by your change of tone.

“You’ve got quite the tongue on you, Jones.” He whispers. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

“I’ve been ready a long time.” 

Sharp lets go of you, only to spin you around the next moment and lift you up, eliciting a gasp of surprise from you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. 

“Professor!” You say, laughing.

“Call me Aesop.” He growls, attacking your mouth and positively ravishing it. 

You moan into his mouth and give as good as you get, very pleased when his tongue finds yours. You’re so taken by it all that you don’t notice as he starts walking towards the bed, only realising this when he lets go of your mouth and throws you onto the mattress. 

“You look so good like that, Isabelle.” Aesop says as he starts removing his jacket and waistcoat, dropping them carelessly on the floor. His hands make quick work of his shirt, letting it fall open, exposing his torso. You drink in the sight as if you’ve never been this thirsty.

Only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the windows and the fire that is still roaring in the fireplace, you can see that he’s kept his shape even after leaving the DMLE. You also see that he has several scars on his chest, and when he sheds his shirt, you see them on his arms too. You find him even more attractive, even more perfect.

“Do I meet your expectations?” He asks, placing a knee on the bed. It sinks under his weight as he climbs onto it. 

“You far exceed them.” You say before sitting up and pulling him for another kiss, desperate to get your hands on his skin, to feel his flesh, to make sure that he’s  real . That none of this is just happening in your head. You know you’d be  miserable  if you woke up to find this had just been a very good dream.

Sharp kisses you back with equal passion, pulling you to his lap. You can’t resist rolling your hips, making him hiss into your mouth.

“Fuck, do that again.” He asks, his hands squeezing your arse as a way of incentive. 

You do it and he moans, so you repeatedly do it, addicted to how dirty it all sounds. You love his voice. You love a lot of things about him. 

“If you continue doing that, I’m not-” He cuts himself as you roll harder, a rather pleased smirk on your lips. “-going to last. I’m not eighteen anymore.”

You understand what he’s saying and you comply.

“Fine.” You say, moving your kisses down to his neck and your hand up to his head, burying your fingers into his hair. 

“I’m feeling underdressed, honey.” He says into your ear and you nod, leaving his neck alone and leaning back, quickly undoing your shirt and taking it off. You mimic him, throwing it on the floor. 

Aesop’s eyes are on you and they burn. He doesn’t even blink as he looks up and down, and he looks clearly marvelled. Under the scrutiny of anyone else, you might have felt self-conscious about your scars. But not with him, because this man understands. 

“I knew you were a fighter.” He asks, embracing you and kissing the curve of your neck. “You’re so beautiful.”

You tilt your head back, allowing him more space to pepper you with kisses. You moan when you feel his teeth on your skin.

“Fuck, more..” You ask and not long after you find yourself pinned under his body.

Merlin, he makes you feel small and you love it. You love the feel of his weight on you. Your eyes meet his eyes and it makes you so hot that his brown eyes are two black holes at this point. He looks feral.

“Before we go any further, I need to be sure you want this. With me.” He says and you nod several times, to show how certain of this you are. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone - or anything - this badly.

"I want this so fucking much, Aesop. Please." You're pretty much begging, but you don't care. You'd crawl for if needed.

Aesop smiles and gets off the bed, standing by the end of it, and proceeds to remove your skirt and underwear, all in one go. The clothes are, once again, carelessly discarded wherever and he takes a moment to look at you, now completely naked. You arch an eyebrow at being checked out in such a way, so you get on all-fours and move to the foot of the bed. 

“Now it’s me who’s feeling a bit underdressed.” You say, giving him a knowing look before moving your fingers to the waist of his trousers, where you unbutton and unzip them. You look up and find him already staring at you, his lips slightly parted in anticipation. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Isabelle.” He lets out and, much to your delight, his voice is rough with desire. 

You grin and pull his underwear down, exposing his  very  hard cock. The tip glistens with precum and you feel the need to suck on it.

Oh, fuck , you think, realising that you have no idea of what to do now. Well, obviously you have  some  idea, you’ve heard other girls - and boys - talking about it, but that’s all theoretical.  Maybe I should get a hold of it first.

So with as much confidence as you can gather in that instant, you reach out for it, but Aesop’s hand catches your wrist first.

“Don’t.” He says and you stare at him, confused. “You’re not ready for that part.”

You look almost offended at that, but deep down you know he's right. You're also impressed at how easily he'd read you.

“But I want it.” You still say and he chuckles. 

“So demanding.” He teases, stepping out of his trousers and pants. He joins you on the bed and palms your cheek. “And you’ll have it when you’re ready. And I’ll walk you through it, if you so desire.”

“That sounds rather promising.” You sound breathless.

“Now, I’d like you to lay down on your back. I’d like to take care of you.” He kisses your shoulder and one of his hands moves up your inner thigh, stopping just before it reaches the top. “I remember you saying you wanted to feel my stubble right about here?”

You don’t have to be told twice. You’ve dreamt about this more times than you can count. It’s easy to just let yourself fall back on the mattress, your hair spread all over the soft pillow.

Aesop gives you a reassuring smile and lays on top of you, between your legs and starts making his way down. He licks the shell of your ear, before moving to your neck and stopping when he reaches your breasts. There, he palms one and kneads it gently while his mouth latches onto the other, sucking on it, licking and biting the nipple. You moan shamelessly, knowing nobody but him will hear it.

“Aesop, fuck…” You let out, one of your hands playing with his hair. You tug roughly on it when he sucks harder on your nipple, thoroughly abusing it. He grins at you and does the same to the other. 

“You look positively ravished, sweetheart.” He whispers against your skin, but his eyes are on your face. He likes the little brush of pink on it.

“Not sure I do. I can still  talk. ” The challenge is clear in your voice. He bites down on your belly, careful not to hurt you.

“I see.”

He continues his assault on your flesh, but not long after he arrives at what has been his destination all along. His hand are on your thighs and he spreads them a bit, just enough so that he can accommodate his face between them. You feel his lips on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you suffer in anticipation every time he goes ever so close to your cunt. You grip the sheets tighter every time you think he’s finally going to attack.

When he does, you melt, and the dirtiest moan leaves your mouth, because it feels so good. His tongue is hot and soft, not rough as you’d expected, and when the tip circles your clit, you arch your back. 

“M-More!” You ask, but he leaves the swollen nub and drags his tongue down to the needy hole below. 

Aesop licks once, twice, thrice even, but it’s when his tongue penetrates you that you yelp in surprise.

“Oh, fuck!” You sound needy at this point, and roll your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue. Your fingers find his locks again and you keep him there, seeking your release.

He moans, incapable of saying anything given how busy his mouth currently is. You bring your legs together, further locking him there. His grip on your thighs tightens and he sucks on your clit with just the right amount of pressure and it feels like you’ve been pushed off a cliff, right into the sea below, and you die.

This is the moment you fully understand why the French call it  la petite mort.

Your eyes are closed and your breath is ragged. Your mouth is so dry your tongue feels like sandpaper. You realise your legs are shaking and that you can’t move them on your own when Aesop moves them himself so that he can come up to you.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He lays beside you, his elbow supporting his body, his head resting on his hand. He traces your belly with the tip of his fingers. “You’re still with me?”

You sigh and turn your head towards him. 

Am I dreaming?  You wonder, the sinking feeling that this is too good to be true making itself known in the pit of your stomach. “I hope I am.”

He chuckles and it looks fucking good on him. 

“You’ve got… You’re all messy.” 

“I was very thorough.” 

“You were.” You agree, leaning closer to kiss him. You still taste yourself on his tongue, you find it erotic. One of your hands moves down his chest and abdomen, finally finding his cock. 

He grunts and moves his hips, seeking your touch. You bite your lip and continue stroking him, slowly, eyeing him. He’s staring at you with heavy-lidded eyes, but you can still see the predatory glint in them. It ignites you again.

“Will it fit?” You whisper, looking down between you two and confirming that your hand barely closes around the shaft. 

“Only one way to find out.”

He moves to get on top of you and immediately you spread your legs, accommodating him again between them. You pull him down for a heated kiss and a moan escapes your mouth into his as you feel him rub his hard cock against your cunt. You move your hips too, seeking that much-needed friction. You hear him whisper something and you realise it’s a lubricating spell when he starts pushing. 

“Relax for me, honey.” 

You let out a breath and do as told, but you’re so eager you find it hard to simply just  relax . You’ve wanted this so much and for so long. You know, your body knows. 

It hurts as Aesop slides into you, even if ever so slowly, but it’s a pain that you welcome. He places a kiss on your forehead before bringing two fingers up to lick them. You watch him do that and realises why when he brings them down to your clit and starts rubbing it gently. 

“Hm… Yes…” You hiss, your legs locking around his hips, keeping him in place. 

“Better?” His voice is strained and he lets his head drop after this, his eyes closed. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Or you’re so fucking big.” You counter, jerking your hips. You feel so full. Nothing could’ve prepared you for this and you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be able to make do with your fingers again. Not after this. 

He growls and attacks your neck, ravishing it as he starts moving. Your back arches when he brings a hand to your left thigh and moves it up, gaining better access to you. The faster Aesop goes, the louder you moan. He whispers obscenities in your ear, telling how the pretty sounds you’re making are fueling him, that he never knew you to be this dirty, and how much he likes it. That, from now on, whenever he looks at you in class he’s going to remember this very moment.  Every. Single. Time.

It’s seared into his memory. 

“I-I’m so close…” He goes harder. “Should I-”

“Don’t you fucking dare... to fucking pull out, Aesop.” You say through gritted teeth, as you try to stave off your orgasm for a little longer. 

The look of satisfaction on his face at your words is everything. It’s like Christmas has come earlier. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let go. Let go, let go.” He whispers, and you do as told, finally allowing the orgasm to hit you like a wave, crushing you with its overpowering force. You cum with his name on your lips.

 He does the same, arching his back with a last deep thrust, spilling into you. You think he looks gorgeous when he cums. The sound he makes definitely makes something stir in you. So raw, so animalistic.

He collapses onto you, careful not to hurt you. You’re both trying to catch your breath now, so none of you says a thing. The silence is welcome after all the moaning and whining that has filled the room the past few minutes. 

After a while, Aesop pulls out and casts a quick  Scourgify  on you both, before lying down at your side. He pulls you closer, spooning you, and kisses your shoulder.

“How was it?” He whispers in your ear, kissing it. 

You sigh, satisfied. 

“It was… I’m not sure I actually have words, but…” You take a moment to think. “It was far better than anything I’ve imagined. Now I see what all the fuss is about, Aesop.”

You feel him smirk against your neck and you smile when he inhales deeply, taking in your scent. When he groans, you look over your shoulder.

“What?”

“I should probably get going.” He says, but makes no effort to leave, so you hope he’s joking.

“Going where? It’s late. Stay.” 

“I have classes to teach in the morning.” 

“So what?” You finally turn around to properly look at him. You don’t like where this is going. “What difference does it make if you spend the night here or in your rooms?”

“This is risky-”

“Nobody is gonna know.” You sound confident when you reassure him. “Please, let me have this, if nothing else.”

“Nothing else?” Aesop frowns. 

You give a one-shoulder shrug. 

“If this was a one-time thing… I’d like you to stay.”

You’re under no illusion that you’re going to live happily ever after. You’ve known him for almost three years now and you know how strict he is. A stickler for the rules. You don’t know what lead to tonight’s events, but if you had to guess, you’d assume it was a lapse in his judgement. Hell, you’re  almost  sure that regret is already setting in that brain of his. 

Aesop is staring at you and there is something in his eyes that you can’t quite put a name to. It resembles fondness, maybe?

“Would you like this to happen more?”

You look stupefied, your eyebrows so high in your forehead they almost touch your hairline.

“Are you asking me if I want to have more mind-blowing sex with my older, hot teacher?” 

Aesop coughs and looks away.

“I guess I am.” 

“Well, that must have been the easiest question I’ve ever had to answer to.” You lean closer and press your lips to his, then turn around again. “Now, I’d like you to hold me so that I can properly fall asleep in your arms.”

You hear him chuckle and feel his arms tightening around your waist. You close your eyes and, as sleep comes and claims you, you feel a sense of peace and contentment. You feel fulfilled, you feel as if you’re right where you’re meant to be. 

Unbeknownst to you, Aesop feels the same exact thing. Except, he knows very well why he’s feeling this way. He’s also noticed that his hand is not shaking anymore, hasn’t been for more than an hour now. The bond is satisfied, he can almost feel its magic singing to him. 

Staring at you, Aesop can’t help but wonder how he’s got so lucky. He has no idea how things will move from now on, but he decides it’s better to worry about that in the morning.

Notes:

I'm very curious about your thoughts on this, I really do hope it was worth the wait!
Those comments and kudos have a very special place in my heart <3
I apologise for any mistakes you may have found~
See you in the next chapter? It's probably the last one, but it was a good ride~

Chapter 7: Together

Summary:

The end is here.

Notes:

Coucou, c'est moi! And I bring the final chapter with me!
First of all, thank you so much for your incredible support on this work. When I came back to writing, I wasn't sure I'd have motivation enough to see this through, but here we are! And a lot thanks to you!
Second of all, I need you guys to know that the only thing I dislike more than writing smut is writing endings. I always struggle to come up with them, it's like I don't want my works to come to an end.
Third of all, enjoy this last ride!

After that night, everything feels different to you. Shortly after, Christmas break starts and time seems to move infinitely, painfully more slowly than ever before, with Aesop away from the castle. 

You had decided to spend the holidays in the castle this time because you’d think you could spend the time in the restricted section researching soulmates. So that’s exactly what you do for the next couple of weeks.

You’re not deep into your research when you realise that you’ll have to speak with Aesop when he comes back. You have theories and suspicions, but you need answers. Real answers that you think he’ll be able to give you.

You find it hard to keep yourself in check after what you’ve found out. You don’t want to allow yourself the happiness that comes with the knowledge, not without confirming it.

Keep yourself together , you think, letting go of the quill you’d grabbed to write a quick letter to Aesop, telling him that you need to talk when he comes back. That’s an awful thing to say to someone who’s meant to be enjoying their holidays. It always leaves one with a bad feeling about what’s to come.

Christmas comes and goes, and so does New Year’s. At this point, you’ve stopped counting the days until he comes back. You chastise yourself frequently for being this desperate for his return. It’s unbecoming. 

Finally, the last day of Christmas break rolls around and you can’t help but feel disappointed. He must have come back by now, but you have received no letter from him. Did he change his mind over the holidays?

Fortunately, your friends are back before you can go on a quest looking for Aesop. You won’t give in. It’s not you who has to go look for him, it’s the other way around. And if he doesn’t, you’ll just talk to him whenever you see him next. And that’s it.

You forget all about him for a few hours, as you spend the evening in Slytherin common room with Sebastian and Ominis. You engage with them in conversation, but whenever you look at your blind friend you find him with a bizarre expression on his face. It always baffles you how he can make it look as if he sees right through you. You know he’ll be hearing from him when this conversation is over. So you take the easy way out.

“Guys, I’m feeling really tired. I think I’m going to bed now.” You say with a fake yawn, dropping your eyelids a bit. 

“Eh? But it’s not even nine.” Sebastian counters, checking the time. 

“I woke up early.” 

“Yeah, Sebastian, I’m sure Belle is really tired.” Ominis lets out and there’s that expression again, a smirk on his lips this time. “After all, we have Potions tomorrow. One wouldn’t want to be distracted now, would we?”

“Yes, that’s totally it.” You rush to add, standing up and backing up, towards the girls’ dorm. “Good night, lads.” 

When you enter the dorm, you find it empty, so you start taking your clothes off, neatly putting them away, folded. As you lay down on the bed, on your side, all curled up, you pull the sleeve of your shirt up, revealing your mark. The initials  AS  are very much there, one on each side of the snake. 

It  has  to be him , you think for the umpteenth time, touching the mark gently with your index finger. You close your eyes and, once again, you fall asleep thinking  Let it be him .

---

Aesop Sharp knows something isn’t right. He knows it ten minutes into his Gryffindor-Slytherin class. He wonders if something has happened while he was away, if you’ve changed your mind, if you’ve finally seen what a huge mistake it is to be with someone like him at such a young age.

Several times he tries to catch your gaze, but you seem to think that your Potions book and the bit of parchment on your table are a lot more interesting than him or anything he might be saying. He tries to have your attention by asking questions, which he knows you love to answer, but even like that his efforts are just not enough. 

He’s missed you greatly during the winter break and this isn’t how he’d imagined your reunion would be like.  At all.  He’d wanted to meet you the previous night, but when he’d arrived at the castle it’d been close to midnight and he hadn’t wanted to disrupt you at such a late hour.

Big fucking mistake that was, apparently , he thinks bitterly, sitting behind his desk. 

Not long after, the bell rings, signalling the end of classes. Sharp jumps to his feet faster than he usually jumps to conclusions and calls your name. 

“Miss Jones, stay behind, if you please.” 

You look up from the books you’re putting into your bag to the front of the class, where Sharp has now come to stand, leaning against his desk. Sebastian opens his mouth to say something but Ominis quickly grabs the sleeve of his robe and pulls him towards the exit.

“Bye, Belle.” You hear him say before the classroom door closes. 

You look over your shoulder to confirm that you’re now, indeed, alone. You don’t know what to say, but he beats you to it.

“My office.” He says, walking in first.

You follow him inside, standing by the wall next to the door. He’s right in front of you, eyeing you carefully. Suddenly, he waves a hand and you hear the door lock and a silencing charm being cast.

You don’t have time to react to this, as he eats the space between the two of you, glueing his body to yours.

“I’ve missed you” He whispers, a hand coming to rest on your waist.

It’s hard not to melt when you hear this. You close your eyes, trying to collect yourself.

“We need to talk.” You say, proud that you managed to remember that small detail when you find yourself in this very compromising situation. All you want is for him to take you here, against the cold wall behind you, not  talk . But you really need to clear things up before moving forward.

He doesn’t look at all upset by your words, which makes you believe that he feels the same about talking. His other hand comes up to your face and places a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you first, though?” His voice is so deep you feel it even in your chest. 

Yes!  You think, but your mouth says otherwise. “No. If you kiss me, I won’t want you to stop.”

Aesop nods and takes one step back, leaving you cold. He turns around and goes sit behind his desk.

“Did you have a good holiday?” He asks, casually.

It’d have been better if you’d been here , you think, swallowing and licking your lips. “Yeah, it was acceptable.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t write telling you when I’d be back. I wasn’t exactly sure when I’d return, but turns out I only got back yesterday.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at his words. It won’t erase all the overthinking you’ve done, but at least you now know why it’s happened. 

“Oh. I had no idea.” 

“Figured.”

There’s a moment of silence between you two, so that’s when you start pacing his office, trying to decide where to start. That’s when suddenly you remember something he’s said in this same place.

“You remember when you looked at my mark and said that it didn’t really look like Sebastian Sallow?” You ask, now staring intently at him and fidgeting with the sleeve of your shirt. 

His expression is very hard to read, but if the time he takes to answer is anything to go by, you’d guess that he’s trying to understand what may be behind your question. It’s obvious he knows that question is not as simple as it may seem.

“Yes.” He finally answers, dragging out the word. “Was I wrong?”

You give him a look that tells him you don’t find that amusing and he lifts his hands in surrender.

“You know what it looks a lot like, though?” Another question that makes him uncomfortable, judging by the way he changes positions in his seat.  Oh, goody.

You move around his desk, still waiting for his reply that’s probably not going to come. His gaze doesn’t follow you and you come to stand behind his chair. You place your hands on his shoulders and immediately feel him tense up. You lean closer, your mouth now on his ear.

“If I undress you just enough and take a peek into your shirt, will I find a similar mark on your shoulder blade with my initials, Aesop?”

Now that got a reaction out of him.

“How can you possibly know that?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

“That night, when I was trying to find a way to fix the shakes on your hand, I told you it came from your shoulder blade, yes? I also found out that it was the same magic I have on my mark.”

Aesop snorts, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Of course you’d find out anyway.” He sounds defeated, and that breaks your heart. “I’m sorry.” 

“For not telling me sooner? You should be.” You say, turning his chair around and sitting down on his lap, straddling him. “You knew it the moment you saw it on my wrist and you chose to deceive me.”

His brown eyes find yours and you see regret in them, but not only that. There’s something else in there.

“I’ve known ever since you came to this school, actually. I’ve had my suspicions, anyway.  IJ  isn’t really a common initials combo, is it? When I heard that your name was Isabelle Jones and that you sorted into Slytherin, deep down I knew, no matter how hard I tried to deny it. You were only fifteen at the time and my student to boot.” You listen carefully to his words, surprised. “Then I saw it, this year. But I chose not to tell you because… Really, put yourself in my position. Look at me, then look at you. You’re young, beautiful, smart, witty. You have your whole life ahead of you, it’s only just beginning. At the end of this year, you’ll leave Hogwarts to become an Auror. You’ll meet new people, incredible people who will surely be a better fit for you. And I-” His rant suddenly comes to a halt when he notices the huge tears forming in your eyes. Suddenly, there’s nothing on his face but concern and panic in his voice. “Isabelle, honey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, looking away.

“You don’t understand, do you?” You whisper, fisting the collar of his shirt. You lean forward and rest your head on his shoulder, facing his neck. “I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I don’t care if you’re older than me. It actually makes you hotter. And if I’m beautiful, you’re handsome. And smart and witty? So are you, which is why I think we’re an excellent match. Merlin, we even have a soulmate mark to prove it.” You pause, straightening on his lap, looking him in the eye again, your arms coming to wrap around his neck. He looks stupefied by your words. “As for the people I’ll meet in the future… I also don’t give a fuck about them. And I won’t leave Hogwarts. I’ll come back every night, to your arms, if you’ll have me.”

Aesop has no words. He just stares at you for a good minute there, trying to process everything that you’ve just said, trying to wrap his head around it. When it comes, it’s sudden and brutal, passionate, really. It’s the most exhilarating kiss you’ve experienced in your life. 

“Fuck, Belle… How did I get so lucky?” He asks when you pause to take a breather. You’re both gasping for air. He grabs your hand and puts it on his chest, over his heart. You feel it beating so fast that it looks like it’s about to jump out of its box.

“I keep asking myself the same question.” You lean forward, your mouth on his ear. You wiggle your hips on his lap. “I’ve missed you a lot. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, yes?” There’s that drop in his voice that makes you wet and his hands on your arse, giving it a squeeze. “I think you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“Remember when you told me you’d guide me through it?” You ask, grinding your hips this time, eliciting a husky moan from him that goes straight down your spine. 

You hear him inhale sharply at that.

“How could I forget?”

“I’ve been thinking so much about it I don’t think I can let you leave this room without trying it.” 

He laughs at that, rich and deep.

“If you thought  I  would let you leave without positively ravishing you, you’ve got another thing coming, sweetheart.”

“I love that idea. I really do.” You place a kiss on his neck, feeling his stubble against your lips. You move the kisses up to his jawline and eventually his mouth. When he’s about to engage, you lean back and smoothly get out of his lap and slide down to the floor. 

He immediately spreads his legs, giving you enough space to properly kneel between them, which you do. You look up at him and you’re presented with the view of a very expectant, very aroused Aesop. You look down and see how he’s tenting his trousers already.

“Fuck.” You mutter, trembling with anticipation. You place your hands on each of his thighs and bring them up, purposefully avoiding his crotch. 

He’s watching you like a hawk, barely blinking, his eyes two bottomless pits of lust. He finds it quite a sight, you on your knees. Not in a derogatory way, but there’s something about having someone as fearless as you willingly place yourself in such a position. He thinks he’d like to do the same for you.

You get his cock out of the confinements of his underwear and you actually water at the sight. You swallow before leaning closer and dragging your tongue from the base to the tip.

“Hm…” You hear him moan and notice how he grips the armrests of his chair.

His reaction emboldens you, incentivises you to take him into your mouth, slowly but surely. You bob your head a couple of times, testing how far you can go. You feel his hand on your hair, his fingers caressing it. He doesn’t push, just leaves his hand there and you find that extremely hot for some reason. 

“That’s it… You’re doing g-great, sweetheart.” You hear him whisper roughly and you hum around his cock, eliciting another moan from him, a desperate one.

You let his reactions tell you what to do. The frequency of his moans, the speed of his breathing, how tight he grabs your hair, how much he curses. And you love to hear him curse. 

“Stop.” He says out of nowhere. You don’t, but look up, dragging your mouth up on his cock. “Bend over my desk.”

Oh, fuck yes , you think, letting go of his cock with a pop. You lick your lips and stand, feeling your knees a bit sore from kneeling. You regret  nothing .

He doesn’t wait for you to bend over, quickly throwing everything off the desk carelessly to the floor and making you do so. He presses his body against yours.

“How would you like to be taken from behind over this desk, Miss Jones?”

You look over your shoulder at him, your hair all over your face. 

“Do you even have to ask? I’m so fucking wet, just put it in!” You demand, moving your hips against his cock. 

He hisses and pulls up your skirt. He doesn’t bother with your knickers, instead just pulling them to the side. He kneels and gives your cunt the tongue treatment, dragging his tongue flat against it. It doesn’t take long to reduce you to a sobbing mess. 

“You look so pretty like that, love.” Aesop whispers in your ear when he comes up. 

You spread your legs wider when you feel him rubbing his cock against you, trembling with anticipation. This time, you don’t offer as much resistance as the first time. Aesop slides in much more smoothly, leaving you with just a soft burning sensation from the extra stretch.

“Have you been playing with yourself?” He whispers in your ear, his body glued to yours, his weight effectively trapping you between him and the hard wooden surface. 

“Y-Yes. Every night.” You sigh, gripping the edge of his desk. “B-But it’s not enough.”

“Dreamt of my cock, did you?” 

“I did.”

“Good girl.”

The speed of the thrusts increases, relentlessly, his grip on your hips tightening with every come and go. He’s probably not aware, but he's fulfilling one of your fantasies. You’ve imagined this very scene countless times before, ever since you’ve met him, and it’s almost enough to bring you to completion. But you’re doing great, trying to last as long as him. 

Aesop, on the other hand, thinks you’re still much too coherent, so he brings one hand forward, to your cunt.

That’s where it starts derailing for you.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows how to multitask. He knows how to keep the pace of his thrusts and how to touch you so that your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Yes, yes, y-yes! P-Please!” You ask, not even knowing what for. 

Aesop merely grunts in your ear, his head hanging forward, his hair framing his face. His eyes are half-closed, his eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He’s working the tip of his finger against your clit, and there’s a moment where it feels so fucking good that your cunt contracts around his cock, effectively making him hiss.

“Fuck, fuck, do that again.” His voice is strained and you  know  that he’s as close to his orgasm as you are to yours, so you do it again, and again, and again, until you feel - and hear - him losing control. The way he grunts as he orgasms, buried deep in you is everything. You finally cum, your hand coming down to his and interlacing your fingers, squeezing.

Aesop doesn’t move and neither do you. It was quite a workout and you fear that, if you move, your legs will give way. You close your eyes, the sound of Aesop catching his breath soothing to you.

Eventually, he moves, allowing you to stand as well. He performs a  Scourgify  on both of you before starting to get dressed again, his eyes on you as you mimic him.

“What?” You ask, smiling with a blush on your cheeks as you tuck your shirt into your skirt, carefully.

“I just realised how full my chest feels.” 

You arch an eyebrow, unsure of what he means by that. 

“Like, you mean literally or…? Are you feeling ill?”

He chuckles and you cherish it, because you know not everyone gets to see that. And you secretly like the idea that it’s pretty much just for you.

“I’m fine. This must be all the love I feel for you, that’s all.” His tone is casual but his gaze on you is anything but that. 

You’re speechless. Floored. Thunderstruck. You were  definitely  not expecting that. Not this soon from a man like him. But it soothes something inside you that you didn’t know needed soothing.

Your body seems to recover from the petrified state it was in and you launch yourself at him, kissing him passionately. His arms around you remind you that this is the only place you only ever want to be in. 

“No one could make me happier than you.” You whisper slightly out of breath. 

There’s that smile again.

“I think we should spend the rest of the day in my bed chambers. And then I’d like to take you on a proper date. We’ve got the order all wrong, Belle.” 

“I like your idea very much.” 

“Then follow me.” He says, waving a hand to put everything back in its place and walking to the door.

You follow him out of his office and to his bed chambers. You’ll follow him anywhere he goes.

This much you know.

Notes:

I hope you guys are happy with how things turned out for both of them. So many of you had asked about when she was gonna find out about his mark! I wouldn't let her in the dark like that.
I'd like to read your opinion on this last chapter, it's just as appreaciated as in any other chapter!
I'll also let you know that I've started working on another story 8D I can't believe I was actually responsible for once and waited before starting a new one.
Again, thank you so much for your support, and I hope to see you around!