CRASH ! BOOM! SURPRISE!
How long have I been saying I'm going to write the obligatory Hogwarts AU crossover fic? I'll tell you, too damn long. And gosh darn it if this hasn't struck me at the point where I have at least a thousand other projects on the go. Like, I'm in the process of having an original short story published, I have a ton of unfinished fics, I'm proofing for a veritable army of writers (NOT A COMPLAINT, I LOVE YOU GUYS) and the less said about my personal life the better. But this has been rolling around the backburner for so long, and I'm trying to tie up loose ends. So, if you love Adventure Time and you love Harry Potter and you read Extracurricular, here is the multi-chapter sequel I promised you. It also works as a stand-alone, if you don't want to be bothered to go read my one shot.
I need to shout out to ALL my fabby fab fic buddies here, for their support through what's shaping up to be a rough year for me. And expecially to a certain Mr Peter for letting me cry on his shoulder and getting me a published story gig. Seriously these years I've spent writing in both the fandom communities and creating original fiction have been the most productive and rewarding of my life and you know who makes that possible? You do. My readers. Your words of encouragement and your support mean the world, you guys have gotten me through some pretty dark times. So, what I'm saying is, by popular demand I owe you this story. Love you guys so much.
Content Warning: pureblood names that nobody else will even get but I had fun with, implied sexytimes and alcohol, a subtle game of Spot The Bronte Reference.
The sunlight streaming through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was getting in her eyes and Marceline was not feeling particularly celebratory or jubilant the way her classmates were that day. She squinted past the bright light and tried to focus on the droning speech McGonagall was giving them up on the podium but it wasn't long before her attention stood up and wandered off. It almost immediately went to the back of a sleek light red head a few rows in front and to the left and Marcy fought to keep a smile off her face. Bonnie would be paying rapturous attention, no doubt. She looked so smart in her graduation robes, she'd practically glowed with pride at winning that year's prize in Potions. Snape's face had been an absolute picture of distaste when he handed it to her but Bonnie had easily been grinning enough for two; possibly enough for three or four.
Everyone was applauding politely and Marcy snapped her attention back to the present where McGonagall had finally shut up and was stepping down from the podium. Of course the rowdy gaggle of Gryffindors near the front ruined it for everyone by whooping and cheering like idiots, waving their arms in the air and winning an indulgent smile from their head of House. But Marcy didn't care, soon enough she wouldn't have to put up with them ever again. The flip side of that was that soon enough it would become a lot harder to sneak off to visit her girlfriend and that sucked majorly. Whatever, she was minutes away from being a fully qualified adult witch. She could do what she wanted, see who she wanted and damn her father's opinion.
The graduates were called alphabetically house by house up to the podium to receive their diplomas and shake Dumbledore's hand, much as they had seven years previous at their Sorting. As Professor McGonagall was calling "Madigan, Jacob Joshua!" and a curly haired, heavyset Hufflepuff sauntered out of the crowd with a wide grin Marcy leaned over and whispered to her best friend.
"Psst, Lyds. You had a chance to scan the parental crowd yet?"
A curvy girl with a head of freshly charmed purple curls turned to her and nodded ever so slightly.
"Yep. I know what you're wondering and yes, your father is here. Daddy dearest was glaring down his nose at Snape last time I saw, I'd eat my wand if Snape gave a shit though. Dude's a tank." Lydia whispered back. She caught a cold glance from McGonagall and straightened up hastily. As if there was anything the sour old bitch could do to them on graduation day, Marcy thought with a snort of amusement. Wow, so her father had actually shown up. Apparently wonders would never cease.
"Abadeer, Marceline Sahira Guenièvre Daayani."
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, Marceline stumbled forwards as Lyds slapped her back and grinned wickedly at her. In fact most of her year were grinning or openly laughing; she could see Bonnie trying hard to hide giggles around her hand. And Marcy had begged for them to just use her first name, too. She shot a dark scowl out at the crowd of parents at the back of the Great Hall and was certain she saw Professor Petrikov beaming back at her. Or, Uncle Simon as she'd have to remember to call him again. It had taken a good few years to get used to calling him 'Professor' and now she was back to calling him Simon plain and simple. Marceline sighed and accepted her diploma and handshake from a twinkly eyed Dumbledore; the old wizard at least must understand her pain since he'd also been cursed with a pretentiously long pureblood name.
"Congratulations Miss Abadeer." he told her seriously. "And the very best of luck for the future, I feel certain you shall move mountains."
"Thank you, sir." she replied, still blushing. And then she was down from the podium and back in her place in the crowd and just like that Marceline was a fully qualified and graduated witch. It was a little scary, actually.
"Sable-Pendragon, Lydia Lorelei."
Lyds swept forwards like a queen at her coronation, smirking out at her parents at the back of the hall and her classmates gazing up at her. Marcy applauded for her friend and scanned the graduates. One more House left to be called and then they'd be done.
She waited through the B's, Fs and Js, once "Kil Whan, Lady" had been called and "Princess, Helena" has also stepped down from the podium it was all Marcy could do to keep from fidgeting. Any second now-
"Sugar, Bonnibel Penelope."
There she was, just as gorgeous as ever and beaming around at everyone while McGonagall gave her a fond smile on her way past. The old cat loved Bonnie despite her being a Ravenclaw, probably thought there was something disgusting going on between her and Finn Mertens. He was one of Bonnie's closest prefect friends and an annoying golden Gryffindor boy but also pretty chill about walking into an empty classroom and catching the two of them glued together at the lips that one time. Finn had taken Marcy aside afterwards and seriously told her that if she hurt Bonnie he'd hurt her and it had been all Marcy could do not to laugh in his stupid, earnest face. She'd faced off across the Quidditch pitch against the muscular blonde Beater more than once and she knew she could fly rings around him as well as Charm his nose off before he'd even lifted his wand if she needed to. Besides she had no intention of ever hurting Bonnie.
The redhead in question almost glowed in the summer sun, radiantly happy and prettier than ever. If Lyds hadn't been standing right next to her Marcy might have let herself swoon just a little. Briefly the redhead's eyes flickered in her direction and a slight pink blush crept onto her smooth cheeks when she noticed the way her girlfriend was watching her. She turned and shook Dumbledore's hand, smiling in reply to something he murmured to her, and stepped down from the podium to resume her place too. So they were both adult witches now, Marcy thought. Weird. But good weird, probably.
"Well, congratulations to our new graduates! And may you always look back on your days at Hogwarts with the very fondest of memories. Go forth and make us proud." Dumbledore announced loudly a couple of minutes later when the very last Ravenclaw had collected his diploma. He gestured to the hall and the students and parents began to file out into the grounds, chattering in loud excited voices.
"SCHOOL'S OUT! WOOO!" a loud voice yelled.
"Mertens!" McGonagall snapped.
"Sorry, Professor!"
"He's such an adorable goof." Lydia observed with a sigh. Marcy shook her head, at a loss for something to say.
"If you're into goofy then Mertens must be the man of your dreams. What happened to Brad?"
"Dumped him, he's seeing Melissa Honeyrose now. Whatever, I don't even care. I'm gonna get me some inter-house fraternization with Mertens." Lydia replied with a salacious wink.
"Not if Phoebe Burns gets you first." Marcy replied teasingly. Finn's girlfriend was notoriously fiery tempered, she was every inch a Weasley despite taking her step-father's surname when her mother had remarried. She had younger cousins in Gryffindor, she'd been instrumental in training both Bill and later Charlie Weasley in Quidditch. Marcy didn't fancy Lydia's chances if Phoebe found out the curvy Slytherin girl had designs on her boyfriend.
"Whatever. At least I'm not lying about having a secret lover. You're so lame, Marcy, you-"
"Marceline."
The cold, interrupting voice accompanied a hand on her shoulder and she turned with a sinking heart.
"Daddy. You came." she murmured, looking at his shoes instead of the frown like a thundercloud across his severe face.
"Of course I came. You are my only child, do you think I would miss your graduation?"
She bit back the answer, I'd hoped you might. Besides, Uncle Simon had come along too and she was more than happy to accept the huge hug he flung around her shoulders a moment later.
"Marcy! Oh, I'm so proud of you, darling!" he beamed down at her.
"Thanks, Prof- Simon. Guess you were surprised when I won the Charms prize, huh?" Marcy smiled back teasingly, relieved that her uncle was there as a buffer between her and Hunson.
"Marceline, we are leaving. Come now, I've had the house elves prepare a meal for your return." her father informed her in much the same tones as a healer pronouncing the time of a patient's death. Marcy frowned from where Simon was still hugging her.
"I'm staying here tonight. It's the graduation party, I'm not missing it." she scowled. Hunson frowned harder than ever.
"I am not asking you, girl. We are leaving and you are coming home, now. Do not even think to defy me, I-"
"Mr Abadeer! Well, hello! You remember me, don't you? Lydia Sable-Pendragon, I'm Marcy's best friend!" Lyds cut in loudly, seizing Hunson's hand and shaking it vigorously. "I'm sure you remember my father, Ithiel Pendragon?"
"Pendragon. Yes. How is your father?" Hunson asked grudgingly.
"Oh he's just fine, still grinding away at those imbeciles at Gringotts about Grandpapa's inheritance but you know how goblins are." Lydia prattled away, sliding a half smile to Marcy when Hunson was occupied with attempting to extricate his hand without appearing rude.
Ithiel Pendragon had been unfairly conned out of his father's inheritance when the senile old wizard had rewritten his will, leaving every last rusty knutt to Gringotts Bank itself. Since an institution or building could not legally hold a private fortune he'd spent the better part of Lydia's life petitioning to get it back through the courts. It was a subject that the curvy girl was fond of holding forth on and had often wielded to devastating advantage when she'd discovered that people would agree to most things if she bored them to the point where they stopped listening. Marcy held her tongue and watched with amusement as her father instantly tuned out the chattering girl.
"Hmm, yes. Of course." Hunson automatically murmured when Lydia paused for breath. He frowned at looked back at her when she didn't continue talking, taking in the wide smile on her face that matched the devious one his daughter was wearing.
"Thanks, Daddy! I'll let you know what time I'll be back tomorrow!" Marcy replied sweetly.
"Excuse me?" Hunson growled back.
"Lydia just told you she couldn't do without my help running the party tonight and asked if you could possibly spare me one day longer." Marcy reminded him helpfully. Hunson ran the last few minutes of half heard conversation through his head with a scowl. Dammit, the Pendragon girl had talked him into a promise.
"Yes. Of course. I shall entrust my daughter's wellbeing to you for the evening then, Miss Pendragon." Hunson said in glacial tones.
"Sable-Pendragon. My mother's from the French line of the Blacks." Lydia corrected him, just a touch smugly.
"Ah, Severus! May I have a word?" Hunson called a little desperately as he noticed the tall, sallow man passing by them through the crowd. Snape looked like he would rather swallow dung than talk to Hunson and Marcy couldn't blame him. But he had no polite way of declining, Hunson was his second cousin through his mother and family was important.
"Hunson. Marceline. How may I be of service?" he inquired, staring around unsmilingly with cold black eyes.
"I had a number of questions over the unanswered owls regarding my daughter's progress in potions. Girls, this may take some time. I'll see you tomorrow." Hunson added, nodding to Marcy to dismiss her.
She didn't need to be told twice, she spun on her heel and marched off across the grass with Lydia hanging off her arm. The moment they were out of earshot both girls burst into furious giggles.
"Snape's face!"
"Daddy's face!"
"Oh you're in for such a lecture tomorrow, Marcy!"
"Worth it for the party. Besides, I'm gonna introduce you to my girlfriend." Marceline grinned back. She took a moment to look over Lydia's head at where Bonnie was hugging her muggle mother. Tonight they were gonna tell their close friends about their relationship now that the imminent stress of exams was done. Lydia probably wouldn't freak, she thought dating a muggleborn was cool and edgy. Lady would definitely freak because she thought all Slytherins were beneath contempt. Whatever, Marcy was gonna charm her stupid Ravenclaw nose off her face if she had to.
Soon, she thought in the direction of Bonnie's gorgeous smile. Soon I'm gonna tell everyone that I'm yours and they can just fuck themselves if they don't approve. Cause I'm in love with you and one day I'm even gonna get the courage to tell you so.
...
Next morning the quiet breathing of two sleeping women was interrupted by the whir of wings and the noise of parchment being dropped from a height onto someone's head. It was closely followed by murmured swearing and a pale arm groped forwards toward a pair of round glasses on the nightstand next to a glass of water with a note next to it. The note read, To sober/hungover Bonnie, love drunk Bonnie x and a careful sniff revealed it contained nothing more sinister than water which she drained in four gulps before turning to the letter that had just been delivered.
"Marcy, wake up."
"Hrnh?"
"You got an owl. From your father."
"Hu? Wossit say?"
"Umm, 'Come home as soon as you receive this message, we need to discuss family matters that cannot wait. Do not dally. You have already engaged my displeasure.' No signature but I'm gonna guess this isn't from your Uncle Simon."
"Fuck. Where did my bra end up?"
"Err, probably the floor of Hufflepuff common room. Jake Madigan ended up wearing it for a dare, you don't remember? You had quite a lot of Firewhiskey last night so I'm not really surprised."
"Double fuck. I need to borrow one of yours. We're about the same size."
"But I already packed."
"No worries. Accio nerd bra!"
"Marcy!"
Too late, the trunk at the end of the bed flung itself open and a pink lacy bra soared out and landed neatly in Marceline's outstretched hand. She grinned triumphantly and then winced as the movement caused the hangover to slosh around like her skull was half full of boiling water. Bonnie frowned at her.
"Where's Lady? You're awfully nude." Marcy continued as she slid the bra on. It was just a little baggy on the bust but she didn't really mind, she just couldn't turn up for a 'family discussion' with Hunson and not be wearing a full complement of underwear. Bonnie was sitting up in bed next to her with Hunson's letter in one hand and the bed sheets slipped halfway down her smooth, shapely legs. Everything from the knee up was wonderfully pink and naked. Marcy took a moment admire her unbelievably gorgeous girlfriend before lifting her wand again and muttering, "Accio pepperup!"
"She's in the Hufflepuff dorm with Jake. She didn't want to spend the night here if you were staying, even though I offered to put a silencing charm on the bed curtains. And please don't filch all my potions, you could at least ask first." Bonnie replied crossly. It was too late anyway, Marcy had already gulped down the Pepperup Potion and was smiling around the brief gush of steam coming from her ears. Her hangover instantly eased to a very dull ache in the back of her brain, easy to overlook.
"Sorry babe. My need was greater, I've gotta go home to my stupid father and probably talk about something boring like tax or careers or something." Marcy replied as she wiggled back into the rest of her clothes.
"Speaking of careers, what are you gonna do now?" Bonnie asked with a sigh.
"I'm gonna be a rock star!" Marcy replied in a muffled voice from under her shirt. She shrugged a short sleeve robe over the top and added a nonverbal sleeking charm over her hair, grinning down at where Bonnie was still sprawled languidly in her bed. The redhead shook her head with a slightly strained smile.
"You're gonna loaf around and wait for your father to eventually die so you can inherit his money and loaf around some more. Marcy, come on. You're too damn talented to waste yourself like that." Bonnie replied chastenedly.
"I mean it. I'm gonna be a rock star. I'm starting a band." Marcy replied. Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Hey, how do I look?"
"Very pureblood. You look a lot like one of the kids who used to call me a mudblood and try to make me feel unwelcome in my first few years here. I don't like it on you." Bonnie frowned.
"I'm just dressing to try to lessen the parental disappointment lecture. Babe, you know I'm not like them. Don't you?" Marceline asked her softly. She reached out and gently tilted Bonnie's chin until their eyes met.
"Yeah. I know." Bonnie sighed.
"I'll see you soon, right?" Marcy asked.
"Yeah. See you soon."
"Bonnie?"
"Yeah?"
"I, uh. Ok. See you soon. I'll owl you."
She turned and regretfully slouched out of the room, making for the Owlery where she'd stashed her broom because walking outside of the apparation wards was for losers. Almost, she thought to herself. She'd so nearly, almost, managed to get the words out but they'd stuck in her throat at the last minute. It was too soon, just a couple of weeks. The warm wind rushing past her face as she flew down to Hogsmead whispered against her ears, it almost sounded like words if she let it. Love you love you love you love-
Marcy landed unnecessarily hard just outside the school wards, shouldered her broom and disapparated with a quite pop!
...
The traditional Abadeer family home of Moor House was at least well named, Marceline thought morosely as she trudged through the damp bracken towards the outer wards. It was most definitely a house and it was built on a moor. Trust her stupid ancestors to be so amazingly unimaginative in the naming department as to call it Moor fucking House. Marcy would have called it Heatherheath Manor, The House At The End Of The World, Leech Hall or simply Lonely Hell. Perhaps she'd rename it once her father died, she mused as she walked. She hated the necessity of traipsing through all that wet, leechy foliage to get inside the wards but because her father's family had been suspicious and rather dark sorts any attempt to fly through the wards would result in her broom instantly bursting into flames between her legs. That was not a place she liked the idea of getting a severe burn.
Moor House loomed square and foreboding in front of her like a fat middle finger held up against nature. Marceline was willing to bet that there wasn't an Abadeer born who didn't hate that place for one reason or another but they all returned home sooner or later. The homing instinct was strong in them, like migrating birds. Or flobberworms, she supposed. And one day the house would be hers, all five storeys of gloomy and damp misery. She wanted to sell it, for sure. But then... there was something about it, dappled in the uncertain Yorkshire sunshine as the perennial westerly wind drove scudding shreds of white cloud across the sky and whipped the end of her robes around her legs. Moor House was the setting of Marceline's best and worst memories. Her mother's hard-won little garden had fallen to ruin in the years since her death but on the few occasions she'd needed to cast a patronus Marceline still thought back to summer evenings in her mother's arms inspecting the snapdragons and heavily perfumed roses for fairy visitors before bed. Fuck it, Marceline decided angrily as she stared at the withered stalks and dead sticks. Tomorrow she'd pull on her mother's old gardening gloves and get out there, start making it look like the house was occupied again. And then she was going to Diagon Alley and posting fliers for her band. But first she had a meeting with her father to get through, so with a sigh Marceline let the wards wash around her, recognising her as a member of the family, and admit her along the gravel path leading up to Moor House.
The front doors were just as huge and imposing as they had been in her childhood and for a moment she wondered if she should knock or just slip inside as quietly as possible and sneak up the back staircase to her bedroom. After all Hunson's note hadn't said she had to come find him, just come home. Her stuff would be waiting for her, she knew. It had been sent with the family elf during the graduation ceremony the day before because obviously Hunson hadn't expected her to put her foot down and stay the very last night at Hogwarts when he'd ordered her to meekly follow him home like a lost puppy. The borrowed bra shifted uncomfortably against her chest and Marceline had a moment of regret for not forward planning her outfit better. She might look like a fabulous pureblood heir to her muggleborn girlfriend but Hunson would definitely find things to criticize about her clothing if she didn't keep him on track for whatever stupid lecture he had prepared.
As if thinking about Hunson had summoned him to her side a loud crack! split the air and her father's elf Peppermint was bowing low in front of her in his usual red and white striped tablecloth-toga.
"Little Mistress. Welcome home." he murmured, eyes fixed on the floor. "Your father is waiting for you in his study."
She should have anticipated that, Marcy thought with a sigh. Her hangover was beginning to creep back as the Pepperup Potion wore off and it was still fairly early in the morning, Hunson must have known she'd only have had a couple of hours sleep. Even less, because Bonnie had kept her up half the night once they'd finished amazing Lydia by reassuring her that yes, they were a genuine couple and no, it wasn't a prank. But there was no time to start thinking about last night, not if she wanted to get through her interview with Hunson without blushing and thinking of slim, talented fingers slipping down her body and trailing across aching skin- she cut that line of thought off before it could get too graphic. Tomorrow, she'd owl her girlfriend and drop by for some intimate attention tomorrow right after she was done in Diagon Alley.
With a sigh Marceline went to Hunson's study door, knocked quietly and turned the handle when the cold "Enter" rang out from inside. She took the hard seat waiting for her in front of her father's desk and met his eyes nervously.
"Marceline. Good, you're home. We have much to discuss."