Authors note: I said previously that I wouldn't put up warnings when releasing chapters, but this will have a new kind of warning.
This will have an intimate scene that will be descriptive.
There will be more of them in the future.
Shoutout to Reshi47 for the review you left! It was very appreciated.
Now, on with the story!
Chapter 36. Torn shirts, a Diary and Polyjuce potion.
The rest of his winter semester passed painfully slowly. To pass the time, he often sat in his family library, poring over books and scrolls to find anything that might help him on his various quests.
He focused particularly on the runes etched into the pelt he had bought during his visit to Uppsala. The old woman who had sold him the magical pelt had explained that the runes were designed to draw power from their surroundings, fueling the enchantment woven into the charm.
Suppose he could uncover more information about the pelt. In that case, he might be able to tweak its enchantment—redirecting its power to himself rather than the charm. But despite spending countless days buried in the family library, his efforts yielded nothing new. Before he knew it, the holidays had ended.
When the day came, Jakob and Ella accompanied Susie to the train station. Ella hugged her quickly, the embrace full of warmth, before stepping back to Jakob's side. He remained behind, offering a curt nod, though the faint softening in his gaze betrayed his true emotions as they parted ways.
As they approached the Hogwarts Express, Jakob glanced at Ella, his head tilting slightly as he spoke. "You know, the Slytherin compartment's always got room for you."
Ella paused, the breeze catching strands of her blonde hair before she shook her head. "Thanks, but Luna's probably already waiting for me." Her tone stayed kind, and she stepped closer, pulling Jakob into a brief hug. "See you later."
"Later," Jakob replied with a quiet chuckle, watching her head off toward the Ravenclaw section. He stayed for a moment, shaking his head slightly as he muttered under his breath, "They grow up too fast." A faint smirk crossed his face before he turned toward his own group.
Inside the Slytherin compartment, the air buzzed with conversation.
Jakob slid into his seat just as Draco launched into an animated retelling of the Malfoy holiday party. Nearby, Pansy chimed in eagerly, her voice brimming with admiration.
"It was just incredible," she gushed. "The guests, the decorations—it was all so... flawless!"
Jakob stayed quiet, offering only a faint smile as he listened. But as Draco continued, the cracks started to show. His forced enthusiasm wasn't enough to fool his dark-haired friend, who easily picked up on the sulking undertone. The absence of Draco's best friend from the party still weighed on him, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
When they arrived back at school, Jakob rushed to the common room. He pushed open the door, only to find it empty. His brow furrowed. That's strange. I told her I'd be back right away to take Saliza.
He glanced around, eyes scanning the room for any sign of her. The silence felt unsettling, broken only by faint voices drifting in from the hallway. Jakob stepped further inside, his footsteps the sole sound in the stillness. Did something happen? Maybe she forgot?
A voice cut through the silence as he moved toward the door to leave.
"Mr. Quade, a moment of your time?"
Jakob stopped and turned, his gaze landing on Amy, seated in a chair behind him. She wore that unmistakable look—the one that always left him wondering if she did this just to get under his skin.
"Yes, my Queen. After you," he replied, a touch of sarcasm in his tone, though his lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.
Amy stepped into the Slytherin five's room, her robes trailing softly over the cold stone floor, with Jakob trailing a few paces behind.
By the time he shut the door and turned around, she was already perched on the table's edge. One ankle crossed over the other, her hands resting lightly on the surface. The curve of her smile made it obvious—she knew exactly how to hold his attention.
"So," the queen started in a light and almost disinterested tone "how was your holiday?"
He didn't answer. Instead, the teenage boy approached her, his footsteps echoing softly as he crossed the room.
Amy slightly tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest as her lips curved into a teasing smile. When he stopped in front of her, her expression shifted ever so slightly. There was a hint of innocent confusion in her eyes, as though she couldn't quite grasp what was unfolding—or at least, that's what she wanted him to believe.
But Jakob wasn't in the mood for playing games. He closed the distance between them until her breath ghosted over his skin. His eyes held hers as his hand moved toward her chest.
Her lips parted, but no words followed. Jakob's hand moved to her tie, pulling it free in one swift motion and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.
Her eyes narrowed as a low, amused laugh slipped from her lips. Her fingers hooked into his collar, yanking him closer until her nails grazed the back of his neck, leaving just enough sting to make him tense.
"Careful, my little snake," she whispered softly into his ear, her tongue flicking over his cheek in a quick, teasing stroke.
Jakob's hands gripped her ass, lifting her as though she weighed nothing. Amy's fingers tightened on his shoulders for balance, her laughter ringing out in the room. She didn't resist as he stepped onto the table, the wood creaking faintly under his weight.
The edge of the table bit into her back as he lowered her down. Her smirk wavered, a flicker of challenge flashing in her eyes before her fingers knotted themselves into his shirt, pulling him closer. The fabric strained under her grip, but Jakob didn't care. He leaned down, taking a single breath before his mouth crashed into hers. It was rough, demanding, leaving no space for gentleness or romance; it was the kind of hunger that didn't wait for permission, the kind that left her breathless.
Her gasp was muffled against his lips as he leaned into her, one hand tangling in her hair to keep her exactly where he wanted her.
For a moment, Amy froze, her body tensing under his touch. Then she shifted, her hands sliding beneath his shirt, palms skimming over his chest.
She dragged her nails down his skin, sharp enough to leave red marks in their wake.
Jakob's hand shot out, capturing her wrist before her nails could rake his skin again. He slammed her hand down onto the table, the sharp thud reverberating between them. A low, smug laugh escaped her as she gave him a defiant and taunting look, but the sound wavered as he went for the offensive, his lips brushing along the line of her jaw. Her breath caught, breaking the rhythm of her mockery, and her head tilted back instinctively.
"Shit, that's the spot," she half whispered, half purred. Amy's free hand plunged into his hair, twisting his locks tightly between her fingers before yanking him closer, forcing him harder against the curve of her neck.
Jakob didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned in with increased intent, his kisses turning more aggressive, the sharp edge of his teeth grazing her skin.
When he bit down, just enough to draw a gasp from her, he felt it—a tremor rippling through her body, a shaky, almost vibrating motion that betrayed the fragility beneath her otherwise dominant persona.
He caught her ankle in a firm grip and let his hand slide along the curve of her leg. His fingers brushed lightly against her black tights, slipping beneath the hem of her skirt to trace the line of her hip. Amy began to squirm beneath his touch, her breathing growing heavier, uneven, each shallow inhale betraying the tension that rippled through her as he continued.
A soft, teasing laugh escaped her as his tongue skimmed the sensitive hollow above her collarbone, her body arching toward him, craving more. The sound broke, catching in her throat when he shifted, his weight settling against her in a way that left no room to escape, no space to think. He pushed between her thighs, the press of his body against hers making her skirt slide higher, the fabric gathering against her hips with each slow advance.
She bit down on her lip, her chest rising and falling in time with his steady pushes. Jakob didn't pause as one hand lifted, finding the edge of her blouse. Two forceful tugs and the fabric came free from her skirt, slipping loose and falling unevenly around her waist, revealing more of her stomach and the curve of her hips to his touch.
Desperately, Amy's hands scrambled for his shirt, her fingers fumbling to undo the buttons. She barely managed one before Jakob caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. The sudden movement made her instinctively arch against him, her legs wrapping around his waist.
She fought against his hold, giving him a defiant and daring smirk like she still believed she could seize control. Jakob didn't care. He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You are mine." He murmured almost in a growl.
The possessiveness in Jakob's words sent a shiver through the older girl, her body responding before her mind could catch up. Her legs tightened around him, her hips rolling forward in slow, almost forceful movements. She let her more primitive side take over, but she didn't care anymore; she just wanted more. She wanted all of him.
A laugh, raw with ecstasy, escaped her as her nails bit into his shirt and raked across his back, hard enough to draw a sharp hiss from him. But Jakob barely faltered. His hand shifted again, sliding back to her blouse, his fingers curling around the fabric. His grip tightened, and the fabric tore apart with one swift, forceful tug. The sharp rip cut through the room, buttons scattering across the floor like tiny, echoing reminders of his revenge.
Giving him a mock-affronted look, her hands slid back to his shoulders, her touch deceptively light at first. Then, with sudden force, her nails bit into his skin, dragging down hard enough to leave angry, red streaks that quickly welled with thin lines of blood.
"Ahh," he hissed, his movements halting as he straightened, glaring at her through the sharp sting burning across his back.
Amy only shrugged, her smirk gaining an edge as she used the pause to reassert control. "You shouldn't have ripped my blouse."
Jakob's glare didn't waver. Instead, it gained a daring and defiant edge as his hands slowly moved up, settling at the centre of her bra. His fingers curled into the fabric, and with a strong pull, Jakob tore the last defence her upper body wore, leaving his queen totally exposed.
Amy gasped, her triumphant smirk vanishing as wide-eyed surprise flickered across her face.
Before she could summon a thought, let alone scheme her revenge for the destruction of her favourite bra, Jakob's lips claimed their prize. His mouth closed over her breast, his tongue tracing slow circles over her nipple, each pass coaxing a deeper response from her. A shiver rolled through her, and her eyes fluttered shut as her head tilted back. The sigh that escaped her was a mix of frustration, surrender, and raw desire, her body betraying her resolve as she let him continue, powerless to resist anymore.
When his teeth grazed and caught her hardened nipple. A shiver coursed through her, the sensation spreading like fire, igniting every nerve. Heat pooled low in her belly, the wetness between her thighs growing, soaking her panties.
She barely registered the shift as his free hand slid lower, inching her skirt up bit by bit until the fabric gathered around her stomach in a careless bunch. His fingers traced the edge of her tights, the touch light and maddeningly slow. Then, with a teasing flick of his wrist, he slipped beneath the elastic, his knuckles brushing her bare skin and leaving her in a breathless anticipation.
Amy arched against him, her body instinctively seeking more as his hand reached the edge of her underwear. Her fingers gripped his jaw, forcing his gaze to meet hers, defiance and want mingling in her eyes as she squirmed beneath his touch. Jakob didn't rush. His fingers teased slowly at first, applying just enough pressure to make her hips shift again, a silent plea for more. Only then did he slide lower, his touch firm as he pressed against the heat pooling beneath.
"Don't stop... faster," Amy urged, her voice edged with something close to pleading as her hips rolled in a slow, circular motion. Her movements weren't just responsive; they were desperately guiding, showing him exactly how she wanted his fingers to move. Her nod was subtle but insistent, her approval clear in the way her body pressed eagerly into his touch.
Smirking, he leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss she returned with twice the fervour and urgency. Then, his focus shifted as he set his attention on giving her exactly what she craved.
The damp heat met his fingers, her hips grinding against him in an instinctive, unrelenting rhythm that sent a surge of lust through him. Falling into her pace, he moved faster, his fingers matching the circular motion she guided, the pressure rougher with every pass. Lowering his head, his lips found her neck, trailing kisses along the curve of her throat, each heated touch coaxing a deeper, more primal response from her as he drove her closer to the edge.
"I'm… I'm…" Her voice trembled, the words dissolving as her body began to quake under the tension building inside her. Her hands, which had clawed at him moments before, now gripped his shoulders tightly as though he was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
Her head fell back, and the moans that had spilt so freely gave way to a softer, almost innocent whimper, one Jakob had never heard from her before. It broke through the air as her body convulsed, shudder after shudder coursing through her in an unstoppable wave.
The resistance she had clung to so fiercely melted away, replaced by raw vulnerability. Her fingers twisted into his hair, pulling him closer as if his presence was both her destruction and her salvation. A broken gasp escaped her lips, followed by a trembling exhale that seemed to empty her entirely, her body going slack as every last thread of tension unravelled.
Her final, uneven breath hitched as the involuntary jerks of her release ebbed. Nothing remained—nothing left to take, nothing left to give.
Jakob stayed still, holding her steady until her grasp loosened. He slowly leaned back, his green eyes sweeping over her, committing every detail of her release to memory.
Her hair was a wild mess, strands tangled around her flushed face, framing the heat still lingering in her expression. Her torn and dishevelled blouse hung loosely from her shoulders, barely clinging to modesty. But it wasn't any of that that held Jakob's attention—it was her eyes.
Dazed, unguarded, they met his, stripped of their usual sharpness. And then she smiled. Not the smirk she used to disarm nor the cunning grin that hinted at control. This smile was softer, unfiltered, reflecting pure, unrestrained ecstasy.
It held something more, though, something deeper. Pride gleamed there, yes, but it didn't stop at satisfaction. Beneath it, nestled within the rawness of the moment, was something that pulled at him, unspoken yet undeniable.
Love.
Before he realised it, his own smile softened in response, unknowingly mirroring hers.
Amy shifted, her body heavy with exhaustion as she raised her head from the table. Her lips barely made the distance, brushing against his in a startlingly delicate kiss. Her lips were cold and uncharacteristically fragile and held none of the sharpness he had come to expect. Jakob found himself drawn into it, matching her gentleness without even thinking about it.
Fifteen minutes later, Amy stumbled into her room. Her legs were shaky, her shirt torn and slipping off one shoulder, hanging loose enough to reveal more than she intended. Her lips were swollen, and her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths like she still hadn't fully recovered.
Jakob followed a step behind, lingering in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, his tie dangling from his trousers pocket, his shirt undone, exposing faint scratches running across his chest. He said nothing as he observed the state of the older Slytherin.
"My youngling, you have returned," came a sharp hiss from the bed.
Saliza stirred, uncoiling from on top of a pillow. The snake's sleek black body shimmered faintly in the dim light, her head rising as she fixed the boy with her red eyes.
Jakob straightened, stepping into the room. His expression shifted, softening as he moved toward the bed.
Without hesitation, he lowered himself onto the mattress beside Saliza, his smile growing as his serpent slithered toward him, meeting his touch as his hand brushed along her smooth scales.
"I missed you so much," Jakob hissed softly as Saliza slithered onto his chest, her sleek body coiling against him. She bumped his cheek affectionately, her forked tongue flicking over his forehead.
Amy climbed onto the bed beside them, propping herself on one elbow, watching Jakob and his snake with clear fondness.
"She's been wonderful, Jake," Amy said quieter than usual. "I wish I could speak to her like you do. I feel like I'm missing something when she hisses like that. Honestly, I'm sad she's leaving."
Jakob turned his head toward her and gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you for taking care of her. You don't know how much that means to me."
Amy leaned closer, brushing her lips against his. "Any time."
They stayed like that for a while—Jakob stretched out on his back, Saliza coiled across his chest, her tail draped lazily over his side. Amy lay close beside him, her body turned toward his, one hand resting near his arm as if drawn to his warmth. His voice carried an amused tone as he described his trip to Sweden, weaving through the details of the rituals and sacrifices with excitement he rarely showed outwards.
Amy's gaze stayed locked on him with a fixed attention to his story. Jakob knew, however, to avoid mentioning the Potters, sensing the unnecessary tension it could bring. He knew her well enough to understand how volatile the moment could become if their names were part of the story.
When Jakob finished speaking, Saliza broke the silence with a proud hiss. "I have some good news," she declared with a sense of triumph.
Jacob's green eyes flickered with curiosity as he slightly tilted his head. "What is it?"
Saliza shifted on his chest as her serpentine head rose, her piercing gaze locking onto his. "I caught the other predator I was searching for," she hissed in a tone that made Jakob smile proudly before adding, "and I devoured him."
Jakob's brows lifted, and he pushed himself up partway, resting on one elbow. His expression was a mix of surprise and intrigue. "What kind of predator?" he asked with a clear tone of interest and excitement.
"A young dragon," Saliza hissed with a note of smug satisfaction.
Jakob froze, blinking as her words sank in. "A dragon?" he repeated in disbelief. "What kind of dragon?"
Saliza tilted her head, her tongue flickering as she considered. "I don't know the names you humans give them," she hissed in a light but slightly teasing tone. "But it was young, might be as old as myself. It had black ridges along its back and dull brown scales."
Jakob's brow furrowed in thought before his eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers. "A Norwegian Ridgeback," he said with certainty. "They're strong, even when they're young. You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"It was sleeping," Saliza reassured with a calm, almost dismissive tone. "I attacked from the shadows, and my poison killed it within minutes. It died screaming in agony."
"You killed a dragon that easily?" Jakob asked, impressed. Dragons were apex predators of the magical animal kingdom—creatures of legend known for their power and near-impenetrable defences. Yet Saliza had taken one down on her own as if it were nothing. Granted, it was likely a young one, but still. The feat was nothing short of remarkable. "And poison?" he continued curiously. "Since when do you have poison?"
Saliza's tail curled slightly, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "The dragon wasn't much of a predator once it fell asleep. And yes, my poison is feared by everything in the forest now.
Jakob smiled, his fingers brushing over her scales. "I'm proud of you. I bet no one saw that coming."
"Thank you, my little youngling," she hissed, her voice softer now. "I gained something from the dragon's flesh, but I won't reveal what just yet."
Jakob tilted his head. "Is that why you told me about spiders? About climbing walls? Do you get abilities from what you eat?"
Saliza's head dipped slightly, her eyes narrowing in approval. "You catch on quickly, youngling. Yes, but that is all I'll say for now."
Jakob's fingers traced a slow line down her scales, a small smile forming as he nodded proudly. "I'll look forward to seeing it."
Time slipped by unnoticed until Amy shifted, glancing at the clock. "We'll be late for the feast if we don't go now."
Jakob sighed, standing with Saliza still curled loosely around him. Together, they left the room, walking into the quiet, empty common room.
Once there, Jakob returned to his dorm, laying Saliza gently onto his bed. "Rest here," he murmured, stroking her once more before heading out.
Amy waited for him near the entrance, and together, they made their way to the Great Hall for the welcome-back feast.
The Great Hall buzzed with noise by the time the Slytherins entered and took their seats.
Jakob dropped into a chair near the centre of the table with Draco on one side and Pansy on the other.
The chatter rolled around him as platters of food appeared steaming and rich with smells of roasted meat and warm bread. He cut into his steak without a word, more focused on eating than the voices of his friends.
After the feast had been going on for a while, The scrape of Dumbledore's chair cut through the noise, and his slow walk to the podium drew most eyes toward him. Conversations dwindled until only a faint murmur remained.
Draco leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table, and his eyes followed Dumbledore. "Can't he just let us enjoy one feast without hearing his boring speeches?" The blond whispered and rolled his eyes.
The headmaster cleared his throat, pausing briefly to sweep the hall with a grave expression.
"I must regretfully inform you that another student and one of Hogwarts' resident ghosts have been petrified. This is of course deeply troubling news for all of us."
Jakob kept his eyes down, steadily cutting his food while his frustration grew. He had to act before Hermione was targeted.
Draco leaned back and snorted. "Troubling for whom?" he mumbled as the headmaster continued. "It's no loss for us."
Theodore Nott leaned toward his roommate and whispered conspiratorially. "Exactly. Only the ones who don't belong here are being targeted," he quipped with smug satisfaction. "I'd say it's working out pretty well for all of society."
Pansy clicked her tongue in disapproval, adjusting her napkin with practised elegance. "Keep your voices down," she interrupted with a low but sharp tone, carrying just enough edge to command their attention. "The last thing we need is to lose points because some of you can't control yourselves."
Dumbledore's voice carried on, ignoring the murmur at the Slytherin table. "The staff is working tirelessly to ensure your safety," He continued, ensuring his voice carried enough calm to quell any rising panic. "Additionally, Professor Sprout is tending to the mandrakes necessary to reverse the effects of petrification. However, they will need more time to fully mature."
Jakob glanced up briefly, his fork spinning idly between his fingers as his gaze settled on the headmaster. Why does it take so long to grow mandrakes? he wondered, a faint frown tugging at his brow. Why don't they just buy some if it's causing such a delay?
The question floated briefly in his mind before an annoyed answer pushed it aside. He's testing something—or someone, Jakob thought as he stopped twirling his silverware and unknowingly hardened his expression. The old man had done it before.
His gaze shifted to the Gryffindor table, where Potter and his friends huddled closely together. Their heads were bowed in concentration, wearing equally tense expressions as they hung on Dumbledore's every word. They weren't just listening—they were gearing up for what Jakob knew would be another one of their heroic, idiotic quests to solve this mystery. Just like last year.
Gryffindor stupidity, he thought with a shake of his head, his lips curling in disdain.
Jakob's gaze shifted past Harry, drawn to where Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table. Her head tilted slightly, her attention seemingly fixed on Dumbledore's words, but there was something about her stillness that snagged his focus. He couldn't identify it, but something seemed off.
As though sensing the weight of his stare, her eyes slowly moved, and her head followed. They locked eyes, and for a moment, Jakob was unsure of who the person he was staring at truly was.
Hermione's expression was almost unnervingly empty as if she weren't entirely present. The hollow look lingered for a moment too long before a subtle jolt passed through her, snapping her back into herself.
She blinked and turned sharply away, her gaze returning to the podium, but the effort to feign interest was transparent. Jakob noticed it in her jaw set, the tightness in her hands, and most of all in her eyes. Whatever façade she tried to maintain was betrayed by the clear sadness in her eyes.
He exhaled quietly, letting his gaze drift past Hermione to the figure beside her. Ivory Potter. Her chin rested lightly on her hand, but her eyes held him. The sharp glint in them sent an unwelcome prickle down his spine.
She didn't waver when his gaze landed on her. Instead, it made the Gryffindor raise her eyebrow once before giving him a wink. Jakob's expression tightened, his frown deepening as he shot her a hard, dismissive glare before turning his eyes away, refusing to let her foolishness provoke him any further.
But Ivory didn't seem faced. Slowly, her lips curved into a faint smirk, one he missed entirely.
When the feast ended, the green-and-silver-clad group of students moved as one, heading back toward the dungeons in a steady flow.
Once they reached the common room, Jakob muttered something about needing an early night and slipped away toward the dorms, his roommate following closely behind.
The two teenagers had exchanged stories about their holidays, brief moments of laughter breaking through the quiet smiles that filled the pauses. After a few hours of feeling like they truly were home again and caught up in each other's lives, they decided to call it a night. Neither said anything, but they both shared the same urge to get ready so they could sleep in the same bed again.
That night, Pansy had fallen asleep as she usually did, curled up against Jakob. Her slim figure had shifted in her sleep at some point, draping over his sleeping form entirely. By the time she settled again, she was practically on top of him. Neither of them woke, oblivious to how Pansy's movements had claimed every inch of his body.
The following days blurred into one another, the hours slipping by faster than Jakob could grasp. He struggled to keep everything in balance: the expectations that came with being a Slytherin Five member, the demands of his classes, the effort to stay connected with his closest friends, and the weight of other, less visible activities he had with his queen.
As winter gave way to spring, one particular obligation began looming over him again: the after-school activity club.
Jakob hadn't spoken to Granger yet. He'd tried convincing Amy that he had more important things to handle, but she hadn't been swayed. If he skipped the club, there would be consequences, and Jakob knew better than to test her.
Still, he couldn't help but feel like the day had arrived far too quickly.
Jakob climbed the stairs with his gaze fixed ahead, his hand skimming the railing for a moment before falling away. The faint murmur of voices from below grew quieter with each step, fading into silence as he pressed onward.
He had renovated it after his mishap before the winter holiday. New paintings brightened the once-bare walls and the desks. He had even taken the liberty of getting new tables and chairs, ones that looked far better than the last older-looking ones.
Would she even be there? Or had she abandoned him to face his punishment on his own? The thought buried itself further into his mind as he rounded the last corner, his steps slowing as the sound of low chatter reached his ears.
A sea of students stretched out before him, their voices blending into a hum of excitement and anticipation. They stood in a long, uneven line leading toward the classroom door. At first, Jakob kept his gaze low, unsure if he wanted to confirm her presence—or her absence.
With a slight shake of his head, he composed himself and walked with the usual posture, one fitting of his statue carried as he approached the mass.
Then, a firm voice rose above the crowd, cutting through the noise like a sharp breeze.
"Everyone, stay in line. No pushing, or I'll have you sent back downstairs."
His heart leapt at the sound. He didn't need to look up to know who it was. But he did, and there she was. Her bushy brown hair caught the faint light, and Hermione Granger stood closest to the door, gesturing for the students to stay orderly. She looked entirely in her element, her sharp tone tempered by a certain confidence as she directed the crowd.
Jakob exhaled quietly, relief washing over him in a way he hadn't expected. She hadn't left him to face this alone.
Jakob walked toward her, noticing how Hermione turned her gaze away as he approached. That wouldn't do. He wasn't about to let this lesson pass with her avoiding him the entire time.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he greeted, inclining his head slightly.
Hermione turned toward him, surprise flashing in her eyes before she quickly looked away again. "Good evening, Mr. Quade," she replied politely but slightly distantly.
They opened the door together, letting the students file into the classroom. Jakob caught the sound of gasps as they stepped inside, the students' attention immediately drawn to the changes.
Even Hermione, who hadn't seen the changes until now, glanced around with wide eyes, her usual composure momentarily slipping. "You changed everything?" she whispered, forgetting for a moment that they hadn't spoken since their last fight.
Jakob nodded to a passing student before replying in a low tone meant only for her. "I thought a new start was in order. Don't you agree, Miss Granger?"
Hermione hesitated, her gaze flicking briefly to him. Trying to figure out if she had caught a faint undertone in his words. When he returned her gaze and gave her a faint smile, she knew and held back her tears.
She managed a small smile before returning to greet a student, gesturing for them to sit. "Yeah," she murmured with a voice almost too soft and silent to hear. "A new start."
The room settled into a quiet hum as students found their places. Jakob stepped toward the door, prepared to close it, but the sound of hurried footsteps on the other side made him pause.
He sighed, opening the door just as Harry, Ron, and Ivory appeared. The two boys didn't even acknowledge him as they brushed past, heading straight for empty seats. Ivory, however, lingered in the doorway, stopping in front of him with a look that Jakob knew all too well.
He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"What?" Ivory asked with a light questioning tone. "I need to study sometimes." She glanced toward Hermione, winking as if it were some private joke. Hermione's cheeks flushed faintly, though she quickly looked away.
"Where can I sit?" the redhead asked as she tilted her head in mock innocence.
Jakob didn't bother hiding his disinterest. "You can either sit outside or find an empty seat. Makes no difference to me," he answered in a dry, clipped tone, slipping effortlessly into the same drawl as his head of house.
Ivory smirked, her shoulders lifting in a casual shrug. "Guess I'll make myself comfortable up front." Without waiting for a response, she stepped past him, making him sigh again before closing the door behind him.
The class had been a success, and Ivy's smirk only grew every time she caught sight of Jakob and Hermione sitting behind their shared desk, leaning in to discuss the students' papers. Her eyes stayed on them, a faint amusement flickering in her expression.
"What are you smirking at?" Harry whispered, noticing how his sister's gaze had softened as if she were watching one of her sappy romance films.
"Nothing," Ivy replied, glancing down at the paper she had already finished.
Ron, sitting beside Harry, frowned. "Don't see why you had to tag along this time. We're perfectly capable of keeping her safe from him."
Ivy rolled her eyes but didn't dignify the comment with a response, brushing them both off as the daft heads they were.
When the class finally ended, most of the students began filtering out, but Ivy stayed behind with Harry and Ron.
The tree Gryffindors looked on as Jakob was busy organising potion ingredients. At the same time, Hermione sorted the stack of papers on her desk.
"Hermione, are you coming?" Ron's voice broke the silence, his tone carrying an irritated huff.
Jakob turned toward the redhead, fixing him with an icy glare. Ron, undeterred, returned the look with equal intensity, his shoulders tensing as if preparing himself for a fight.
Before either could speak, Ivy stepped forward and nudged Harry and Ron toward the door. "Come on, you two. Give them a moment to finish up without having us breathing down their necks."
She flashed an apologetic look over her shoulder as she pushed them outside. "Sorry, Mr. Quade. Hermione, we'll wait until you're done. See you next class."
The door clicked shut, leaving Hermione and Jakob standing in silence. Both glanced toward the now-closed door, where the muffled sound of Ron and Ivy squabbling could still be heard in the hallway.
Jakob turned to see Hermione still moving around the room, pretending to busy herself with tasks that had already been finished.
He flicked his wand, putting up a silencing charm over the classroom. As the faint hum of noise disappeared, he pocketed his wand and crossed the room to her.
She didn't notice him at first, her hands still fidgeting with the papers on the desk. Jakob reached out, gently taking her hands in his, stilling her nervous movements.
"I'm sorry," he apologised, squeezing her hand gently, urging her to look at him.
Hermione finally lifted her gaze, her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. She looked like she might speak for a moment, but instead, she let go of his hands and threw her arms around him, hugging him harder than she had ever done before.
Jakob hesitated only for a second before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. He could feel the tension in her frame, the sadness she'd carried, and as he held her, it felt like a missing piece of him had finally slotted back into place.
"I thought you hated me for what I did," Hermione sniffed against his shoulder, her voice breaking.
Jakob frowned, gently pushing her back so he could see her face. "Why in bloody hell would I hate you?"
She wiped at her eyes, her voice trembling as she spoke. "He... he told me it was just a matter of time before I messed everything up and that you'd hate me forever. And I..." Her words trailed off as her voice cracked again.
Jakob didn't let her finish. He pulled her back into his arms, holding her close once more. "I never hated you, Hermione. I hated what I had to say, and I wished every single minute that I could take it back. Im so sorry for everything."
For ten minutes, they stood there, holding each other. Jakob comforted her with more apologies and told her how much he missed her, and Hermione reflected back on his words.
When the Bushy-haired girl's crying began to slowly subside, her breaths grew steadier as Jakob's hand smoothed over her hair, the gentle motion making her body slowly relax more and more.
Then, something she'd uttered before struck him. He stilled for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at her. "Hermione, who told you this?" he questioned softly. "You said 'he.'"
Hermione nodded, her arms still loosely around him as she met his gaze. "Yeah, he wasn't very nice. I tried to tell him you wouldn't, that you were my friend."
A cold weight settled in Jakob's stomach. "Hermione," he pressed again, forcing himself to keep his tone calm, even as his mind raced with different ideas on how he best could torment the person who had made this mistake before he killed him."who did you tell? Give me a name?"
Hermione's brows furrowed slightly as though trying to recall something distant. Then, her face lit up with sudden clarity, and she smiled faintly.
"His name is Tom Riddle."
"Tom Riddle?" Jakob repeated, his brow furrowing as he searched his memory for the name. There weren't many surnames at Hogwarts he didn't know, apart from the Muggle-born students. Maybe this Riddle was one of them.
Hermione frowned, her gaze dropping to the floor like she wasn't sure how to answer.
"Um, he's... Tom is a student who's been talking to me for a while. He's in a book... sort of."
Jakob's thoughts stilled at her words. "A book?" His brow arched as he studied her. "Do you mind if I see it?"
She didn't respond right away. Instead, her shoulders seemed to curl in slightly, and her expression grew distant, similar to how she'd been after their fight.
"Hermione?" he asked, stepping closer and gently taking her hand in his.
She flinched at the touch but then seemed to snap back, her focus sharpening as she met his gaze.
"Yeah, sorry," she murmured, her voice a little unsteady. "Um... what were we talking about?"
Jakob's jaw tightened, worry flickering behind his calm exterior. "The book," he reminded her, trying to sound gentle, but the hardness in his voice betrayed what he really felt. "Do you mind if I take a look?"
Hermione's expression shifted for a moment as if she were listening to something he couldn't hear. Her eyes grew unfocused, and her lips parted slightly. Then, just as quickly, she seemed to ground herself again and nodded.
"Yeah. Sure. It's in my bag."
The warning bells in Jakob's mind rang louder. Dark magic could affect the mind, but this wasn't like anything he'd read about before. Whatever this was, it was subtle—insidious.
As Hermione turned to her bag, bending to retrieve the book, Jakob flicked his right hand, his wand sliding silently from its holster. He kept it hidden beneath the hem of his sleeve, ready for anything. His chest tightened as she turned back toward him, and for a brief moment, he held his breath, half-expecting her to point her wand at him.
But when his gaze lowered, he exhaled quietly in relief. She was holding a small black diary. Jakob's fingers twitched, and his wand slid back into its holster as he took in the unassuming book in her hands.
She extended it toward him, but he noticed her grip didn't loosen. He almost had to pull it free from her fingers.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined it. The diary's cover was plain, but the name Tom Marvolo Riddle was embossed in faded gold letters on the back.
"Tom Riddle," Jakob muttered, his fingers brushing over the name.
A strange sensation pricked at the back of his neck like someone was watching him—measuring him. His brow furrowed as he opened the diary, flipping through the blank pages. Nothing stood out, yet something about it felt undeniably wrong. Dark.
Jakob looked back at Hermione, gesturing at the book. "You said he was in this?"
Hermione didn't respond. Her eyes remained fixed on the diary, her expression distant and unsettlingly blank.
Jakob's worry deepened. She was clearly affected by whatever this was. Carefully, he removed the diary from her field of view, slipping it into his bag.
"Hermione," he began with a low but steady voice, "I want you to go back to your common room. Write on your card and let me know how you're feeling after that. Alright?"
She blinked as if emerging from a haze and gave him a small, confused smile. "Yeah, okay."
She stepped forward suddenly and wrapped her arms around him in a brief but happy hug before turning and leaving him alone in the room, not even giving him a glance before she closed the door behind her.
Jakob waited, listening as Hermione's footsteps faded down the corridor. He gave it a moment longer, ensuring she wasn't coming back before his gaze shifted to his bag.
"Let's see what I'm working with here."
He pulled out the diary and laid it on the desk in front of him. Leaning back in his chair, he studied the plain black cover, running his fingers over the edges. There was nothing remarkable about it, no dark aura or ominous markings. Just a simple, ordinary book—or so it seemed at least.
Jakob opened it to the first page.
Blank.
He waited, his eyes scanning the parchment, expecting something—anything—to happen. The seconds ticked by in silence. His brow twitched in frustration as he leaned back again, his arms crossing over his chest.
His gaze drifted to the inkpot and quill sitting neatly beside the book. A thought formed, and with a frown, he grabbed the quill and dipped it into the ink.
"What to write... what to write," he muttered to himself before leaning forward and scribbling a simple line across the page.
Tell me who I'm speaking to.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the ink began to swirl across the page, forming neat, precise letters. Jakob leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he read the words.
Hello. What's your name? My name is Tom Riddle.
Jakob's frown deepened. He knew enough about magic to recognise the warning signs. Sentient objects, especially ones this subtle, were dangerous. But he had to be sure. He dipped the quill again and wrote another line.
Tell me what you did to Miss Granger.
The ink vanished into the page as if absorbed, and Jakob waited, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk. The response came slowly, each letter appearing as though it had been written by an unseen hand.
I'm afraid I can't tell you, Mr. Quade, but I can show you.
"Nope," he said loudly, slamming the book shut with a sharp snap.
He shoved the diary back into his bag and reached for the card he always carried with him. Holding it firmly, he rose from his chair with a hard expression across his face.
"I've read enough books to know that a sentient one is nothing but trouble and needs to be destroyed. And you just engraved your own tombstone by writing my name."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, the bag at his side feeling heavier than before.
The Grand Staircase was mostly empty, save for a few students Jakob didn't know well enough to greet. That suited him just fine. He was on a mission, and small talk wasn't on his agenda.
His gaze flicked to the card in his left hand as he descended. Its surface shimmered faintly with a gold texture, and a message slowly appeared:
Feeling much better. Thanks. Don't know what got into me.
"Good," Jakob muttered, jumping down the last few steps. "That confirms it. The book is manipulating the mind."
The realisation quickened his steps. By the time he reached the gates of Hogwarts, he was nearly jogging. The cool evening air hit him as he crossed the grounds, heading straight for the Forbidden Forest.
The towering trees soon swallowed him, their dense canopy blocking out the view of the castle. Jakob slowed once the shadows thickened around him, scanning the area until he spotted what he needed—a large, flat boulder sitting in a patch of moss.
He reached into his bag, pulled out the diary, and laid it down on the stone's surface.
He took a step back, his wand already in his hand, its tip aimed directly at the black cover.
"Incendio."
The fire roared to life, consuming the diary in flames. Jakob started to smirk in victory, but his expression faltered as the fire sputtered out.
The book lay on the boulder, untouched, its cover as pristine as before.
"Diffindo."
The spell shot forward in a sharp arc, meant to slice through the diary's cover, but it did nothing. The pages didn't so much as flutter.
Jakob's jaw tightened as he looked around, scanning the surrounding trees.
Satisfied that he was alone, he stepped closer to the boulder. If ordinary magic wouldn't work, then perhaps it was time to try something darker.
He flicked his wand, his voice dropping to a low hiss.
"Laceris Existentia." The book didn't even tremble.
His brow furrowed as he circled the boulder, considering his next move. He steadied his wand, drawing on deeper magic.
"Mortem Ignis." Fire erupted again, this time darker, more destructive—flames crafted to burn not only the physical but the soul connected to it. The cursed fire danced across the diary's surface, its embers hissing against the stone. And yet, when the flames died out, the diary remained as pristine as ever.
Jakob's breathing grew heavier, the cost of the curses pulling at his strength. His frustration boiled over as he levelled his wand once more.
"Absum Cordis."
The sickly yellow curse shot forward, its energy crackling as it struck the stone. The boulder split down the middle with a loud crack, jagged pieces scattering across the forest floor. The diary tumbled to the ground and landed softly on the moss.
Jakob pocketed his wand and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. The cover felt cool against his fingers. It looked exactly as it had before.
"I see you're a tough one to crack," Jakob muttered, holding the book up. Then, his gaze shifted to the lake in the distance, and a smirk slowly formed. "If I can't destroy you, I'll just have to find you a new home."
He walked toward the shoreline, pausing to crouch down and gather a few heavy stones. He stacked them over the diary, testing their weight, before pointing his wand at the pile.
"Incarcerous."
Ropes shot from the tip of his wand, wrapping tightly around the diary and the rocks, binding them together. Satisfied, Jakob stood and strode to the lake's edge, the cold water lapping close enough to almost soak his shoes.
Raising his wand, he pointed it at the book. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The bound book lifted off the ground, hovering slightly above the water's surface as Jakob guided it further toward the middle of the lake. The black waves rippled faintly as the weight hovered just inches above them.
He stopped as he neared its centre, the book hanging over the murky depths. Jakob hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the still surface.
"If someone finds you and opens you up," he muttered, his voice low, "you could reveal everything. My secrets. Maybe I should—"
He stopped himself, shaking his head and laughing dryly.
"Trying to charm me, are you?" he sneered mockingly. "I'm flattered, but you'll have to do better than that."
With a flick of his wand, he released the spell. The book splashed into the water, the weight of the stones pulling it down instantly. Jakob watched as it disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only a trail of bubbles behind.
Dusting off his hands, he turned on his heel and made his way back toward the castle.
As he passed through the gates, he didn't look back.
If he had, he would have seen a shadow cutting through the night sky, a figure descending rapidly toward the lake. With barely a sound, the figure dove in, the ripples erasing all evidence of their perfect dive.
When Jakob returned to the Slytherin common room, he dropped into his favourite armchair with a long sigh of relief. He leaned back, his body sinking into the worn leather as the weight of the day slowly but surely started to fade.
Nearby, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Theo, and Daphne were deep in conversation, though Jakob couldn't be bothered to follow what they were talking about.
The low murmur of their discussion was interrupted by the sound of the entrance door opening.
Jakob glanced over lazily, his eyes narrowing slightly as Vince, Greg, and Tracey walked in.
The trio looked uneasy, shifting awkwardly as if they weren't sure they belonged in the same space.
Jakob, who was practically sprawled in his chair, tilted his head, watching them with a curious frown. Since when did they walk together without the rest of their group? It wasn't a trio he often saw mingling. Come to think of it, he had never seen the three of them walking in together like that, and their discomfort only made the sight stranger.
He straightened up slightly, his interest piqued despite his growing tiredness.
The three Slytherins lingered just inside the common room, Goyle elbowing the other two in a clumsy attempt to prod them forward.
Jakob's eyes flicked to the group, the faintest crease forming on his brow as he noted their hesitation. He allowed his expression to smooth, reclining deeper into his armchair with sharpened attention.
Without a word, Goyle lumbered over, dropping heavily onto the middle of the couch opposite Jakob. Crabbe followed, taking the space to his right, while Tracey hesitated before perching on Goyle's left.
Draco and the rest barely acknowledged their arrival. Jakob, however, studied the trio, his fingers idly spinning his wand while the others remained too wrapped up in their conversation to notice. Jakob, however, let his gaze linger on the new arrivals, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
"Where have you all been?" he asked, his voice carrying the faint edge of curiosity wrapped in feigned nonchalance. His eyes settled briefly on Tracey, her fidgeting drawing his attention. "You look... rattled."
Goyle cleared his throat, his voice unusually subdued as he muttered, "Me and Crabbe have been out, uh, trying to bully some first-years. Don't know about her, though." His eyes darted toward Tracey as he spoke, his lowered voice making it clear he was choosing his words carefully.
Jakob's gaze sharpened, the faint confusion in his expression deepening. "Crabbe?" he repeated sceptically.
It wasn't just the awkward explanation—it was the name. Jakob had never heard them address each other by their last names before. The oddity was subtle but significant, and realisation flickered across his face as the pieces started to fit.
He turned his attention to Tracey, locking his gaze on hers. His instincts whispered there was something off, and he needed to test his suspicion.
"Miss Davis," Jakob began with an amused tone. "Did you catch sight of that Potter girl at lunch today? Honestly, with the way she and that Weasley shove food down their throats, they could pass for a pair of overfed, ugly hogs."
Laughter erupted from the other Slytherins, but Jakob barely registered it, his focus fixed on the three before him. Both Davis and Crabbe shot him icy glares, their reactions too obvious, they had broken character. Goyle shifted uncomfortably, nudging the pair with his elbow in a clumsy attempt to curb their reactions, but it was too late.
Goyle cleared his throat, the sound awkward and rough. "So... Malfoy, do you know who opened the Chamber?"
Draco, who had been in the middle of a conversation with Blaise, turned his head with a scowl. "I told you yesterday. I don't know," he answered sharply and gave goyle a hasty, annoyed glare before he turned back to Blaise, dismissing the interruption.
Jakob leaned forward, his elbow resting on the armrest, his sharp green eyes locked on the trio across from him. "Do you want to hear something strange?"
The reaction was instant. Goyle shifted awkwardly, his hulking frame struggling to stay still. Crabbe's fingers twitched against the arm of his chair, and Davis tilted her head just enough to feign disinterest. However, her body language betrayed her as she unknowingly leaned forward.
Jakob let the silence stretch a moment longer for dramatic effect.
"Before Christmas," he began slowly in a casual tone. "I was wandering the castle. Just clearing my head."
He leaned back slightly, ensuring their full attention was on him before speaking again. "I ended up in one of the bathrooms and found a cauldron with a half-finished potion sitting in one of the stalls."
Davis fidgeted, her mouth opening slightly before she caught herself and fell silent. Goyle refused to meet Jakob's eyes, his shoulders stiffening with a faint, awkward shift as he cleared his throat. Crabbe sat motionless, his face carefully blank, though the tension beneath it was impossible to miss.
"What kind of potion?" Daphne asked, tilting her head enough to convey curiosity.
Jakob smirked, his gaze sliding from Daphne to the imposters, watching them like a predator observing its prey. "Hard to say for sure," he replied with a faint knowing glint in his eyes as he shrugged. "But if I had to guess…" He continued and leaned forward slightly, confirming their rising worry with his next word. "Polyjuice."
Before Daphne could press further, the three imposters rose from the couch in a sudden, synchronised motion, their shared glance stating their joined decision to escape.
"Where are you going?" Blaise asked, confused as he turned toward the girl he still believed to be his girlfriend, his gaze searching hers for an answer.
"Uh... we ate something bad, I think," Crabbe muttered, grabbing Goyle by the arm and pulling him toward the exit.
Tracey stood frozen, her wide eyes darting between Jakob and the retreating boys. When Crabbe shot her a panicked look, silently urging her to make up an excuse, she hesitated.
Jakob stayed seated, watching as Crabbe and Goyle hurried out of the common room.
Tracey, who didn't know what to do, stayed where she was, her face starting to look increasingly pale as the two boys disappeared out the door.
"Hey, Tracey, I need to talk to you about that thing," Jakob said, standing and making his way toward her. He grabbed her arm before she could react.
"What thing?" Daphne's voice cut in, sounding curious, though her slightly narrowed eyes hinted at jealousy.
Jakob glanced back and gave the blonde a quick wink. "It's a secret." Without another word, he pulled Tracey toward the exit and left the common room.
The moment the door closed behind them, his grip tightened slightly. He kept walking, leading her deeper into the dungeons without a word.
When Jakob stopped, he turned sharply and shoved her against the cold stone wall.
"Ouch!" She winced, glaring up at him.
"Did you really think that little plan would run smoothly, Ivy?" he asked with a low and cutting tone.
Tracey—or who appeared to be Tracey—narrowed her eyes at him. "You don't have to be so rude. And how did you know it was us?"
Jakob rolled his eyes and let go of her arm. "Do some research next time. You didn't even bother to figure out who you were trying to portray."
Ivy, feeling stupid for being caught so easily, glared at him. "Why did you even bother helping me? You could've left me for your friends. They'd have loved an excuse to humiliate me."
Jakob stepped back, arms crossing as he watched the Polyjuice Potion lose its effect.
Her brown hair stretched and lightened, shifting into long, fiery red waves. Freckles broke out across her pale skin, spreading until they dotted her nose and cheeks. Her hazelnut brown eyes brightened into sharp green, and he tilted his head, waiting until the transformation finished before speaking.
"If I'd left you, it wouldn't have stopped at humiliation. You'd be cursed, paralysed, maybe stripped naked and left for anyone to use as they pleased." He informed coldly as his gaze bore into hers. "Do you realise the stupidity of this little stunt? Hufflepuff would have been naïve enough to overlook you. But Slytherin? You didn't just make a mistake—you waltzed straight into the viper's den, practically begging to be torn apart."
Her eyes widened, a flicker of horror breaking through as the truth in his words slammed into her. Jakob's sharp snort broke the silence, his head shaking with irritation and disdain.
"Gryffindors and their bloody recklessness." Sighing at the girl, who in turn had no reply, she knew he was right this time. He looked away and then turned back, something glinting in his eyes. "Since I got you out of that, you owe me now. When I call, you'll answer. Make sure your deserters understand that too."
Ivy frowned and crossed her arms. "Owe you how exactly?"
Jakob shrugged as he kept his grip firm on her arm. "I got you three out of trouble. If I ever need it, you'll return the favor. Tell your deserters that as well."
The initial defiance on her face shifted to reluctant acceptance as she turned her head to the side, giving him only a stiff nod in reply.
"I know you'll keep your word, but if your brother or that idiot Weasley dont follow through, they'll find themselves in a very uncomfortable situation."
Ivy turned back sharply, her green eyes narrowing as she glared at him.
"Oh, don't give me that look." Jakob leaned closer, his voice dropping to a cold murmur. "You're the one who got yourself into trouble, not me." He said before giving her a smirk. "Now get."
He shoved her to the side, making her stumble a few steps before she caught herself, sparing him one last furious glare before turning and running down the corridor.
Jakob watched her disappear around the corner, muttering under his breath as he brushed his sleeve. "So stupid." He turned on his heel and headed back toward the common room, his thoughts already drifting to other matters.
For weeks, the school was quiet. The attacks had stopped, and Jakob threw himself into his studies. Whenever he saw Ivy in the halls, his gaze lingered just long enough to wonder what thoughts were running through her mind.
His game with Amy continued, a constant question of who held the upper hand in their private activities. The activity club thrived, and its popularity only grew. For a brief moment, it felt as though things were falling perfectly into place.
Then Valentine's Day came around and ruined everything.
Jakob sat beside Draco in the Great Hall, his book propped open as the noise of students finishing lunch filled the room. Without warning, Lockhart stood and raised his arms, a beaming grin plastered across his face.
"Today is Valentine's Day!" His voice boomed across the hall, silencing the hum of conversations. "And I've prepared something amusing for you all." He clapped his hands, and the doors swung open.
Jakob's eyes narrowed as a group of dwarfs dressed like Cupid waddled in, their golden wings flapping comically as they began to sing and dance in the aisles.
"What the—" Jakob muttered, his gaze flicking to Draco, who looked equally unimpressed.
"These delightful cupids," Lockhart continued, his voice practically glowing with pride, "will be here for the remainder of the day. If you give them a card and whisper the name of the person you adore, they'll deliver it! And if you're lucky, they might even sing your message for you!"
Jakob's lip curled in irritation as one of the cupids pranced by, its oversized wings knocking into a plate. "This has to be a joke," he muttered, glancing at the chaos already spreading through the hall.
That afternoon, Jakob couldn't seem to escape the Cupids. The first one found him in the courtyard while he sat under a tree, flipping through a book and enjoying his alone time. It waddled toward him, its oversized wings dragging slightly on the grass, and began to sing.
"To Jakob Quade, a genius so rare," it trilled, flapping its wings with a dramatic flourish. "Your eyes are sharp, your mind beyond compare!"
Jakob's unimpressed gaze lifted from his book. He shut it with a sharp snap, rising to his feet. Without a word, he stepped around the Cupid and walked away, leaving the creature standing there mid-rhyme, looking very perplexed.
By dinnertime, his patience was already wearing thin. As he sat at the Slytherin table, picking at his meal, Draco and Blaise, who argued over Quidditch strategies, were the first to notice another Cupid approaching, this one even more determined as it walked into the great hall and approached the Slytherin table were its next victim sat.
"To Jakob, from Emily in Ravenclaw!" it announced loudly, slapping a card onto the table. The force knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice, splashing it across Jakob's robes.
Draco choked on his drink, coughing into his sleeve, while Blaise smirked. Jakob wiped his sleeve with a napkin, muttering some of his worst swear words. He didn't look up until Cupid began to sing.
"Oh Mr Quade, you will be in my heart, never fade. If you would only see me as such, i would probably give you a good-"
"Enough." The single word cut through the Cupid's performance, making it falter. Jakob grabbed the card and shoved it into his bag before continuing his meal as though nothing had happened.
By the time Potions arrived, his tolerance for the ridiculous display was gone. The classroom's low hum of bubbling cauldrons and Snape's monotone instructions provided some relief—until the door creaked open.
Another Cupid stumbled in, wings flapping furiously as it tried to regain its balance. Its bright, sing-song voice shattered the calm. "A message for Jakob Quade!"
Jakob didn't look up when the Cupid flitted into the room, its glitter-covered wings brushing against desks as it moved. It stopped in the middle of the classroom and cleared its throat, drawing the attention of several students.
"To Jakob Quade, the sharpest of minds!" it began, its voice obnoxiously cheerful as it flapped its wings enthusiastically.
Jakob's hand moved without hesitation, tipping his cauldron ever so slightly. The potion splashed over the Cupid's head, hissing and steaming as it made contact.
The Cupid screamed, clutching its melting face as the potion ate away at its skin. Its wings drooped, the golden feathers darkening as students scrambled back from their desks, shouting in panic.
"Bloody hell!" Weasley shouted as he backed into Potter as the Cupid stumbled over his leg, knocking over a stand of glass vials in its wake.
"Take it to the hospital wing!" Snape barked at the Gryffindors with an unsympathetic expression as Cupid's cries echoed around the dungeon.
Weasley muttered something under his breath, reluctantly grabbing the Cupid's arm, while Potter hesitated before taking the other. Both of them grimaced as they dragged the half-melted creature out of the room, its distorted face making several students gag.
Snape turned back to the class with a clipped tone as he addressed the stunned silence. "If you're quite finished gawking, get back to work."
Jakob adjusted his notes and stirred his cauldron like nothing had happened, ignoring the wide-eyed glances directed his way. Draco leaned closer, wearing an impressed smirk.
"Well, that was dramatic," the blond muttered with a dry tone as he shot a glance toward the door. "But effective."
That evening, Jakob lounged with his blond best friend in the common room. His gaze flicked to the door, where two Slytherins stood on guard duty, arms crossed and wands tucked within reach. They had been given permission to use whatever force was necessary to keep the Cupids out, a task they had accepted with smug enthusiasm. Occasionally, they shot grins at each other whenever they sent a Cupid scurrying back down the corridor.
Draco, sitting beside Jakob, looked down at one of his letters. For once, he didn't appear jealous of the stack Jakob had received. His posture was uncharacteristically relaxed, and he wore an expression Jakob rarely saw—a faint lift of his lips that bordered on contentment.
"Who were your letters from?" Jakob asked, the curiosity evident in his voice as he glanced at Draco.
"Well, one was obviously from Pansy," Draco said, his fingers tracing the edge of the letter in his hand. "But I can't really say who the other was from."
Jakob tilted his head, his gaze sharpening with interest. "I'm your best friend. Tell me now, or your father will hear about this."
Draco laughed quietly, rolling his eyes as he set the letter aside. "I can't say yet, alright? I'm not sure if there's anything to it, but when I do know, you'll be the first to hear. I promise."
Jakob studied him for a moment, noting the rare trace of hesitation in Draco's usually composed demeanour. He leaned back against the sofa and observed his friend for a moment before saying in a low voice. "You know Pansy cares a lot about you, right?"
Draco ran a hand through his hair, exhaling in frustration. "I don't know why she keeps insisting. I'll talk to her eventually. It's just… other things are on my mind right now. You get it, don't you?"
Jakob tilted his head slightly, his tone steady. "I get that you're stalling. You're my best friend, and I'm not going to tell her. But, mate, you need to talk to her. She deserves better."
Draco sighed, his shoulders slumping as he nodded in reluctant agreement. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a word out, another voice rang through the room, cutting him off.
"Mr. Quade, I need a word. Now."
Jakob looked up as Amy strode into the Slytherin common room. Her sharp tone silenced the low hum of conversations, and heads turned in her direction. Whatever irritation Jakob thought he had imagined was clearly real.
"What did you do to the queen?" Draco's voice was quiet but edged with unease as he watched Amy.
"Nothing," Jakob replied, frowning as he stood. He noticed how the other students followed his movements with poorly concealed interest, their eyes tracking him as he crossed the room.
Jakob reached the door and opened it. He stepped into the Slytherin Five's chamber and shut the door firmly behind him. Taking out his wand, he flicked it with slightly more haste than usual and silenced the room. As the magic settled, he turned to face his queen.
"Alright, Amy, what's going on?"
Amy leaned back slightly, arms folded across her chest as her lips curled into a faint sneer. "You seem to have become the talk of the day. My sources tell me the Cupids have been entertaining you nonstop."
Jakob stepped closer, his expression softening into a confused smile. "Amy, are you serious? I've been waiting for one letter all day and you haven't given it to me yet."
He watched her reaction, expecting his words to defuse the tension, but her expression didn't shift. If anything, the hardness in her eyes remained, and the silence that followed made it clear his attempt had fallen on deaf ears."
"So, are you tasting someone else now?" Amy's tone was sharp, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer. "Maybe your queen should have a friendly little chat with that slut, Greengrass—"
"Don't talk about her like that." Jakob's glare was immediate, his stance shifting slightly as his hand moved toward his wand.
"Oh? So it is her," Amy said, her lips curling into a feral smile. Her gaze slid toward the door as she tilted her head, her fingers brushing against her own wand. "Maybe I owe that little bitch a visit. Or is there someone else? Parkinson, perhaps? I've seen the way she watches you. Maybe I should teach her some manners and put her in her place."
Amy's wand appeared before she finished speaking, her movement fluid, controlled, and full of intent.
Jakob's hand moved just as fast, his wand flicking into his grip without hesitation. He held it low, the tip angled toward the floor, a clear signal he didn't want to use it—unless she forced him to. His unflinching glare stayed fixed on her, waiting to see what her next move would be.
Amy's eyes darted to his wand before snapping back to meet his. Betrayal burned alongside fury in her expression, the emotions fighting for dominance as she stood frozen in place.
"Amy," Jakob began, in a controlled and sharp tone, "you don't talk about my friends like that again. You're the one who said to keep this secret. If you can't handle it, then maybe we shouldn't continue whatever this is. Do you even hear how you sound right now?"
The grip tightened on her wand, her knuckles turning white as her voice rose. "Hear myself? You're the one who just spoke a load of horse shit, the one committing treason against your own queen!"
Jakob moved to close the gap between them, but Amy's wand lifted just enough to halt him.
"Betraying my queen?" Jakob stepped forward, a low chuckle slipping out like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "I'm not speaking to my queen right now. I'm speaking to you. Whatever this is, stop it. Don't push this past the point of no return."
Amy's wand lifted just enough to stop his approach. Her lips curled, her voice a venomous whisper. "You talk about lines like you haven't crossed them already. You think I'll forgive you for what you've done?"
He halted, looking at the girl he cared so much about in hurt confusion. "Forgiveness? You think this is about you? You have no claim to forgive me because I've done nothing to warrant it."
Amy's breath caught, a brief hitch betraying the fury trembling in her hand. "You are mine, Jakob," she hissed, the words dripping with possessiveness as she took a step closer. "And I won't let anyone—anyone—take what belongs to me."
Jakob erupted, his voice shattering the tension. "I am my own!" The force of his roar stopped Amy in her tracks, her step faltering as she witnessed the utter defiance in the boy before her.
His words sliced through hers, and the silence that followed felt so thick it could've swallowed the room whole. The stillness was sharp enough to make the sound of a pin drop seem deafening.
Amy's lips slowly twisted into a mocking smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her head tilted slightly, her sharp gaze dissecting him. "Do you really think I care enough about you to risk everything? You're nothing, Jakob. A fleeting distraction, a toy—something I use when it suits me."
Jakob's expression shifted, his hatred flickering briefly before being replaced with a cold, calculated smirk. "Maybe you don't care," he replied, the words slipping from his lips with a venomous calm as his stance relaxed, giving her an unbothered shrug. "But at least now I see who you really are."
Amy's shoulders stiffened, her eyes narrowing with the kind of fury that simmered just beneath the surface. "And what do you think you see?" Her voice dropped, low and threatening, as she fixed him with a look that dared him to say more.
Jakob's smirk twisted into something cruel, his eyes never leaving hers as the silence stretched. When he finally spoke, his words dropped with the weight of a hammer. "You're one crazy, ugly bitch."
Amy's scream tore through the air, her rage snapping loose as the curse erupted from her wand. The blast slammed into Jakob's chest, hurling him back until his body collided with the door in a sickening crack. He hit the floor hard, his vision swimming as sharp pain flared in the back of his head. Something warm and sticky began to slowly trickle down his neck. His hand moved without thought, brushing against the source on the back of his head, and when he brought it back, his palm and fingers were smeared with blood.
Amy's rage broke apart the moment she saw what she'd done. Her expression crumbled, panic flooding her features as she rushed forward and dropped to her knees. Her hand reached out, trembling as her eyes darted over him, wide with worry and something close to desperation. "Jakob… I didn't mean—"
Before she could touch him, his hand shot out, gripping her robes with a force that made her gasp. In one unrelenting motion, Jakob hauled her to a standing position, his strength driving her back until her body slammed against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, leaving her stunned.
Amy froze, her gaze locking onto his, and the look in Jakob's eyes rooted her in place, raw and unrestrained rage, darker than anything she had ever seen before. The intensity of it made her fear him for the first time, and yet, beneath the terror, a different heat stirred, something that left her breath uneven and her pulse quickening in a way she couldn't control.
Jakob pressed his wand firmly against her throat, the tip sparking faintly, each flicker sending a sharp sting into her skin. The queen flinched with every jolt, but she didn't dare move. Whether it was fear or wisdom, she avoided speaking further and stayed perfectly still.
"You dare strike at me?" Jakob hissed, the words shifting automatically into Parseltongue. His wand pressed harder against her throat, drawing a faint, pained whine from her lips.
"Jake, I'm sorry, I—"
He yanked her forward, their bodies nearly colliding, and hope flickered in her chest for a fleeting moment. She thought he might forgive her, that they could fix what was broken.
But then he moved, taking a step to the side, letting her stumble and crash to the floor.
"We're over." His voice was colder than any curse, the finality of his words stabbing her like a dagger to her heart.
He turned to the door, walking towards it with a calm, unforgiving expression.
"If you ever touch my friends—if you even think about crossing that line—I will make you wish you never met me."
"Jakob, please—" Her voice cracked, but he didn't pause.
He didn't look back as he walked out. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing like a final blow. Amy stayed where she had fallen, tears streaking her face as the darkness closed in around her.