Chapter Text
September 1st 2010, the first day of term and Rhaenyra's first day at Hogwarts ever. She feels a mixture of excitement and suspense at the prospect of finally starting school. Her stomach fluttered the entire journey to King's Cross.
Her mother slows the car as they arrive in the parking area, Rhaenyra catches sight of the train station in the distance and nearly squeals with joy.
The young Targaryen practically jumps out the car, mere seconds after her mother. Rushing to the back to grab her trunk.
"Come on, Baelon! We're here!" She shouts, and her older brother who had been taking his own time exiting the car, makes no effort to speed up his movements.
Merely letting out a gripe as he's forced to retire from his nap, before climbing out of the car.
Rhaenyra skips ahead, unworried and blissful, while her brother and mother trail behind her in an orderly fashion. Witches and wizards in passing inclining their heads at Aemma in respect.
"Slow down, Rhaenyra." Her mother scolds, when the young girl sees the swarm of muggles exiting a train in the distance, she decides to listen to her mother, swiftly returning to her side.
-
They approach the barrier between the platforms nine and ten. Rhaenyra watched as her brother jogged through the wall with ease, disappearing through it.
The younger Targaryen cannot help the anxiety she feels as muggles slip past her, left and right, each aiming to reach their destinations as quickly as possible.
Rhaenyra hesitates, and an older witch takes the opportunity to cut in front of her. With her own bags she walks through the barrier just like her brother had done moments ago.
She takes a quick look around, Rhaenyra observes that the muggles seem to have failed to notice the witch that had just seemingly disappeared through a solid wall.
"Go on, Rhaenyra, don't worry. I will be right behind you." Her mother reassures with a gentle hand on her shoulder and she finally finds the courage.
She grips the handle of her cart before shutting her eyes. Her legs move before she allows herself another second of deliberation.
A beat passes and she finally hears the horn of a train, loud and inviting.
Rhaenyra finally opens her eyes to see a large red train, the Targaryen immediately recognizes it to be The Hogwarts Express.
The hard part is over, she thought.
Rhaenyra continues her silent observation of the multiple witches and wizards boarding the train.
Her mother busy fussing over Baelon's hair for the dozenth time, Aemma then fixes her son's jacket before leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead, much to his dismay.
The boy glances around in a panic.
"Mum, stop it. People are looking." He whispers, leaning back to separate himself from her.
"No they're not. Don't be silly." His mother says, brushing him off with a dismissive wave.
"Focus on your OWLs this year, I expect an outstanding on your report, do you understand?" Aemma states sternly and her son lets out a sigh.
"Yes, mother." He complies.
"Rhaenyra, come here darling." Aemma gestures, bending down slightly and her daughter practically jumps into her arms for a tight embrace.
For the first time that morning Rhaenyra feels afraid, she has never been apart from her mother for longer than a day, being at a new school amongst people she never met before was terrifying.
A sadness overcomes her as she realizes that her mother cannot come along, and tears well up in her eyes when she considers just how much she will miss her.
Rhaenyra hugs her mother tighter,
Aemma rubs her daughter's back soothingly, in response.
"Final call!" The train conductor shouts, standing halfway out of the train, forcing them to end the hug.
"Be strong, sweet girl. You can write to me every week if you wish." Aemma says, wiping the pads of her thumb across her daughter's cheeks, drying them.
"Look for your brother if you need anything, but try to make new friends, okay?" She states and Rhaenyra nods in understanding.
She forces herself to be strong, she takes comfort in knowing that her brother will be around, she won't be completely alone.
"I love you so much, my beautiful girl." Aemma says as she plants a lingering kiss on her daughter's temple.
Rhaenyra shadowed her brother as they paced the train back and forth, looking for an empty carriage.
She dragged her feet as her brother continued scanning for an empty space.
"Finally." Baelon says with evident relief, her brother gestures to the carriage in the distance.
"I think there's a spot for you in there." He states.
"Come on, those two look about your age. Let's see if they'll let you sit with them. I'll find a different carriage for myself." He adds, approaching the carriage and Rhaenyra follows closely behind.
Rhaenyra immediately notices a girl, who did seem to be her age.
She observed that the girl had her nose in a book, but Rhaenyra was mostly focused on her hair. It was a fascinating color.
Nearly red, but under the carriage lighting it looked mostly orange, the curls fell in a casual way on her shoulders. It reminded her of the firepit back home, looking at it made Rhaenyra feel warm.
The girl with hair like fire, fails to look up when Baelon announces himself.
Rhaenyra reaches up to fix her own hair, suddenly feeling conscious of her own appearance.
"Do you mind that my sister sits here? Everywhere else is full." Baelon asks on her behalf and Rhaenyra is thankful that her brother did, admittedly feeling hesitant at attempting conversation.
"Not at all." It was only then Rhaenyra notices the boy sitting across from the girl, a kind smile as he gestures for her to sit next to him.
"Great, thanks mate." Baelon responds.
"Get something to eat, it'll be a long journey." Baelon states, before handing his sister a handful of galleons he fished out of his pocket.
"Go on, I'll look for you after the sorting ceremony." He adds, nudging his sister with a hand on her back.
Rhaenyra takes her seat next to the boy and he quickly extends his hand.
"I'm Harwin." The young girl is taken aback for a beat but she shakes the boy's hand regardless, returning his gentle smile.
"My name's Rhaenyra, it's nice to meet you." She states and the boy's lips curve further upwards.
Her eyes travel from his smile to the rest of his face, she scans his features for a moment before glancing at his hair. His locks were much darker than her own, and wavier.
However, it doesn't fall on his shoulders, it's not as pretty, Rhaenyra thought.
She turns her attention back to the girl sitting across from her, who was still paying close attention to the book in her hands.
"What's your name?" Rhaenyra blurts out, only relieved she has found the courage to speak.
"Alicent." The girl answers curtly, flipping through the page.
Alicent fails to say anything else and Rhaenyra turns to glance at the boy next to her, he gives her a shrug in return.
"So, what are you reading?" She tries again, but this time the auburn haired girl gives her no response.
Rhaenyra slumps in her seat, unsure of why Alicent refuses to look at her. She thinks it unfair, when someone speaks to you it is only polite to look at them.
Her brows furrow as she stares at the girl but she isn't allowed to sulk for long as she hears trolley wheels approaching.
A woman pushing a trolley full of candy and snacks stops by the sliding door and Rhaenyra feels an excitement once again.
"Would you like anything from the trolley, dears?"
The ride to Hogwarts was long but entertaining. In those hours Rhaenyra found a friend in Harwin, they shared stories about their past and talked about their families. She wishes she could say the same for Alicent, but the girl kept her attention to her book the entire journey, only to nap once she got tired of reading.
Rhaenyra decides to abandon her efforts to engage with the other girl, especially since dismounting the train and losing her in the crowd.
Walking through the halls of the castle, she takes notice of the statues and paintings, exhilarated when she recognizes a few that she's heard of from her brother, Rhaenyra can hardly believe she was finally setting eyes on them herself.
She follows the group of first years up the stairs, stopping by two large doors that she can only assume to lead into the Great Hall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts." A man announces and Rhaenyra looks up to see a man with shoulder length blonde hair.
"I am Professor Tyland." He explains.
"In a few moments you will pass through these doors and into the hall to join your classmates, but before that you must first be sorted into your houses." The man states and the children turn to each other with palpable elation.
"They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." He explains.
"While you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, break any rules and you will lose points."
"At the end of the year the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."
"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily." The Professor states, soon dissapearing through the doors, leaving the group of children to entertain themselves.
Rhaenyra shifted her weight when she stood rather impatiently as names of various students were called, one by one they were sorted into their houses.
Eventually, the young Targaryen stops paying attention altogether, merely listening for her own name and nothing else.
Rhaenyra nearly misses it, but she hears the headmaster call out a familiar name, she watches intently as Alicent stepped up to the podium situating herself in the chair.
"Slytherin!" The sorting hat shouts, after just barely touching the girl's head.
"I don't like Slytherins." Harwin whispers next to her and Rhaenyra's brows knitted together.
"They aren't all bad, my uncle is a Slytherin." She counters and the boy shrugs.
"Can't say I'm surprised though." Harwin states and Rhaenyra's face twists in confusion.
"What do you mean?" She asks.
"Her father is Otto Hightower." Harwin states, bringing her voice back down to a whisper.
"Who?" Rhaenyra still fails to understand.
"Otto Hightower was an ex death eater turned auror. It is rumored, the only reason he was hired was because he was a close companion of the Dark Lord during the war." Harwin explains and Rhaenyra can't begin to comprehend what she was hearing.
Alicent? The daughter of a death eater?
"It's true. My father once told me that Otto Hightower is familiar with most doings of dark wizards, which means he is more useful to the Ministry as an auror. That's the only reason he's not locked up in Azkaban." Erryk, who Rhaenyra had met mere minutes ago chimes in and she only grows more perplexed.
"Blimey, Rhaenyra. Your father is the Minister Of Magic. How can you not know any of this?" Harwin asks and Rhaenyra wishes she could give him a good answer.
She rarely ever spoke to her father about his work, or much else really.
Rhaenyra veers her head, taking a quick glance at the Slytherin table. To her surprise she is immediately met with dark brown eyes staring back at her.
This time Alicent doesn't make her feel any sort of warmth, only a chill that starts from the back of her neck, traveling all the way down to her spine.
7 Years Later
Alicent covers her mouth as she lets out one of many yawns this evening. Reading up on the 'History Of Magic' the entire train ride was evidently, the wrong decision.
She watched as the last group of first years entered the great hall, paying no particular attention to the sorting ceremony, her eyes scanned her surroundings once more.
Alicent sighs before shaking her head disapprovingly, her friends, still nowhere to be found and dinner was about to be served soon.
More waiting as the final group of first years meet the sorting hat and Alicent's exhaustion finally gets the better of her. She rests her chin on her hands for a moment and before she knows it, she is nodding off.
A much earned rest, she justifies. Alicent makes no effort to keep herself awake.
Just as she's allowing herself to slip into a light slumber, she's jolted awake by rough hands on her shoulders.
Alicent jumps at the sudden contact before hearing a chuckle come from behind her, a noise she recognizes immediately.
Laena flashes her an innocent grin when Alicent throws her a stern glare in retaliation. The curly haired girl then leans in to place a quick kiss on her cheek, a silent apology, and Alicent accepts.
Criston soon appears from behind her, reaching out to squeeze Alicent's shoulder in acknowledgement.
"Hey." He quips, before taking a seat in between the two girls.
"Where have you two been?" Alicent hisses, brows furrowed.
She watched as the couple threw each other a look, Laena pursing her lips to hide a smirk and Alicent immediately regrets asking.
Laena wipes an obviously smeared lip gloss stain from the corner of Criston's mouth and Alicent grimaces.
"Gross." She says under her breath but her best friends catch it anyway.
"You sure you want to know?" Criston asks, with infuriating smugness.
"No, actually on second thought don't tell me." Alicent grumbles.
Just as she's debating on resuming her nap, the sorting ceremony comes to an end; the first years have all taken their seats in their respective houses.
The Headmaster steps up the podium, knocking the tip of her wand on the stand and the noise reverberates through the halls.
"Can I have your attention please?" Professor Rhaenys commands, and the commotion quiets, all turning their attention to her.
"Before we begin the feast, I have a few start of term announcements." She states.
"There is a change in our staff this year. As most of you know, Professor Beesbury has officially retired." The Headmaster explains.
"Finally, I'm just shocked that the old brute's still alive." Laena quips above a whisper earning giggles from the students sitting across from her.
"We of course thank him for his years of loyalty to the school and wish him all the best moving forward." Professor Rhaenys says, unknowingly discrediting her own daughter's remark.
"I wish to also let you know that Defence against the Dark Arts will from now on, be taught by Professor Daemon Targaryen."
Alicent winces as cheers erupted from her side of the hall at the news, Slytherin boys and girls alike cheering for their Head Of House.
The Headmaster allows this for a moment before raising her hand, commanding everyone to resume their silence.
"Furthermore, for year seven students, practical Defense Against The Dark Arts will now be a combined class, at the request of Professor Targaryen." The Headmaster says, before glancing at the silver haired man, who gives her a swift nod in return.
"I am certain that you will all be adequately taught the necessary skills to do well for your N.E.W.T.S at the end of the year." She states and there is only silence from the students, now grown antsy as their dinner gets further delayed.
"That is all for the announcements this evening. Let the feast begin." Professor Rhaenys finally announces and a large assortment of food appears on the table in an instant.
Alicent's energy returned to her as her eyes scanned the spread.
Criston doesn't wait to fill his plate properly before biting into a piece of chicken he'd snatched from the center of the table.
His girlfriend on the other hand carefully deliberated the choices available, finally opting to reach for the shepherd's pie.
Criston takes it a step further, reaching for another drumstick, he is now double fisting, taking alternate bites between the pieces of chicken in his left and right hand.
Alicent bit into her food, contrastingly well-mannered, before getting distracted by the boy sitting next to her. Laena stares at her boyfriend with a similar incredulous expression.
The boy fails to notice the sets of eyes peering at him, not until Laena moves her arm to nudge him in the side.
He glances at her and then Alicent in an uncannily, boyish manner. The auburn haired girl chuckles at the sight, Criston resembling a young boy of five rather than a man of eighteen.
"What? I've got Quidditch practice in a couple hours. I need my strength." Criston says defensively and the girls next to him merely shakes their heads, relenting.
For several minutes the trio eat in comfortable silence, until Criston turns to Alicent with a question.
"You coming to watch the game on Saturday? We're going to kick Gryffindor's ass this time I'm sure of it." He asks, looking at his friend expectantly.
Alicent grimaces at the thought, recalling last year's Quidditch game that ended in multiple casualties.
"No thank you." She responds with a scowl.
"Every single time I go to a game someone ends up bloodied or nearly dying from falling off their broom." Alicent adds and Criston's shoulders slumps with evident disappointment, but his friend continues anyway.
"It's all so tense, I am stressed enough as it is." The auburn haired girl finally says and the boy only pouts, his girlfriend flashes Alicent a sympathetic half-smile.
"But you have to come, it's the first game of the season." Criston pleads but Laena quickly places a hand on his arm.
After a moment the boy takes the hint, silently turning his attention back to his food.
"Worried about your Newts?" Laena intuitively changes the subject and Alicent was glad for it.
"Like you wouldn't believe. If I don't get an outstanding, I won't be considered for the auror internship program." She states, picking at her plate nervously as she does.
"Do you really want to be an auror?" Laena asks bluntly, and Alicent's brows furrow.
"What'd you mean?" She asks, watching as her friend abruptly stands from her seat, nudging Criston so that she may take his spot next to Alicent instead.
"I mean, is that the career you truly want to pursue? Or is it what your father wants?" Laena asks, her purple eyes boring into deep brown ones.
Alicent tears her eyes away. She's always disliked Laena's unfailing ability to see right through her.
Demanding that Alicent confront her doubts, all these years of friendship and she still finds it deeply uncomfortable.
"Does it matter?" The Hightower states, still avoiding eye contact.
"Of course it matters." Laena counters but her friend interrupts before she can say anything else.
"Laena, I really don't want to talk about this right now." Alicent is pleading and her friend senses her tone.
Laena says nothing else, merely moving closer to pull her friend into a side hug.
Alicent's loss of appetite manifests abruptly, she pushes her plate away before laying her head on Laena's shoulder.
The other girl does her the courtesy of not pushing on the topic any further.
The day was progressing slowly and Rhaenyra was more than ready for the final class to be over, so she may return to her dorm.
She groans as Laenor gestures for her to throw another spell his way, insistent on practicing his barrier charms before class begins.
"Expelliarmus!" She exclaims with a sharp gesture of her wand. Making sure her friend successfully blocks it before glancing at the door again, hoping to spot her uncle.
"Of course, his first day teaching Defence and he's late." Rhaenyra quips, moving her wand arm forward again.
This time, saying the spell in her head instead of out loud, still manages the desired effect as Laenor nearly fails to block it.
"What's your uncle like? I've never had him as a Professor before." Harwin asks, glancing at Rhaenyra.
The Targaryen takes a pause, deliberating an adequate answer but before she gets a chance to respond Laenor interrupts.
"I guess we're about to find out." He states, nodding towards the door.
Rhaenyra veers her head to catch her uncle entering, soon the room goes silent as he struts through the classroom, students all parting out of the way instinctively.
It was all rather dramatic, and Rhaenyra has to hold back a scoff at the display.
Her uncle, constantly doing too much.
"How many of you here can confidently cast a Patronus?" The professor's first words to the class, barely glancing at his students as he speaks.
Daemon always had a natural allure to him which commands attention. A wonder that goes unexplained, one Rhaenyra has spent most of her time with him trying to deconstruct.
More than half the class raises their hands at his question and the Professor nods.
"That's good." Daemon states, pacing back and forth.
Tentative eyes follow him across the room with bated breaths, anticipating his next move.
"That's good, but you're in this class for a reason." The Professor states, finally initiating eye contact with his audience.
"Your abilities may prove just good enough to pass the Newts exams perhaps–" He says.
"But I'm not looking for good enough. I need you to be great." Daemon adds with a certain gusto and Rhaenyra fails to mask her amusem*nt.
She lets out a snort, unworried and mocking, heads swiftly turn her way and the older Targaryen merely glares at her.
The building tension in the room was nearly suffocating, but Rhaenyra doesn't work to wipe her smirk off her face.
"Line up, please." The Professor orders, eyes still fixed on his niece.
"Two rows, directly in front of me." He adds, gesturing with his arms outstretched, finally looking away to retrieve something from behind his desk.
Rhaenyra steps forward, her aim was still to antagonize her uncle. She deliberately cuts through the crowd, until she was second in line.
Daemon pulls out a large wooden chest from behind the teacher's desk, setting it at the center, directly at the front of the class.
"In here, is a creature known by all to be the guards of Azkaban. In a few moments I will open this box and release the Dementor." The Professor states and a wave of whispers and murmurs erupt amongst the row of students.
Daemon holds up his hand and it worked to silence the class once more.
"Your objective is simple. Fight off the Dementor." The Professor states, and the infectious anxiety manifesting around her fails to affect Rhaenyra, as she only grins.
Daemon's purposeful attempt to unnerve the students on his first day. Rhaenyra had been a fool to expect anything less.
As the Professor unlatches the claps to the chest, Rhaenyra's eyes finally shift to the girl standing directly in front of her.
She curiously studies the girl's auburn hair, a visceral feeling overcomes her that she cannot quite place.
Rhaenyra searches her mind, looking for an explanation for the odd feeling of familiarity.
And then it hits her.
"Ms Hightower, you're up first." Daemon says, almost as if he had read her mind and Rhaenyra's breath catches in her throat.
She was standing behind Alicent Hightower.
"Wand at the ready." The Professor adviced and Alicent lifts her wand, giving him a curt nod.
Daemon does a silent countdown with his fingers before flipping the top of the chest open.
Rhaenyra feels goosebumps form on her skin but she cannot be sure of the cause.
She had unluckily faced but successfully fought off dementors in the past. Yet, in this moment, for an unknown reason, she is nervous.
A misty cloud forms in the air as she breathed out. The Dementor rose out of the box slowly, but the room grew dark and cold in an instant.
"Expecto patronum!" Alicent shouts, a large gesture with her wand, but nothing happens.
The Dementor comes down on her, inching closer and Rhaenyra instinctively steps forward slightly, reaching for her own wand.
"Expecto patronum!" Alicent tries again, her voice falters at the last syllable, the spell fails to manifest still and Rhaenyra feels sick.
"Professor, that's enough!" Rhaenyra exclaims in a panic, glancing at her uncle.
He only places a firm hand on her arm, preventing her from intervening.
Daemon doesn't move, he doesn't respond, and his stoic expression fails to betray any sort of concern.
Collective gasps of horror can be heard around the room as the Dementor finally comes close enough, pulling back its hood, ready to perform The Kiss on Alicent.
"Daemon, it's going to kill her!" Rhaenyra raises her voice, and again, her uncle does nothing.
Rhaenyra's body moves before she even consciously wills for it to. She rips her arm out of her uncle's hold before lunging forward, boldly placing herself in between the Dementor and Alicent, shoving her backwards in the process.
The Hightower girl stumbles, falling onto the ground as a result.
"Expecto Patronum!" Rhaenyra shouts the spell with conviction. Her arm outstretched, fingers firmly wrapped around her wand, channeling almost all of the energy she currently possessed into the single spell.
A bright blue haze flows out of the tip of her wand, it momentarily takes the shape of a stag, it trots and prances around the Targaryen in circles, creating a forcefield that the Dementor fails to penetrate.
Rhaenyra holds her own and the being accepts its defeat.
Everyone observes open-mouthed as the Dementor disappears into the wooden chest, where it belongs.
"Colloportus." Rhaenyra locks the chest for good measure, also another conscious attempt to defy her uncle.
Ignoring the several sets of eyes on her, Rhaenyra immediately turns her attention to the girl on the floor, who seemed to be in a similar state of awe as everyone else.
"Are you alright?" Rhaenyra asks as she crouches down to Alicent's level.
The auburn haired girl fails to respond for a beat and when she does it comes out as a series of incoherent words.
"Yes– I'm– thank you. I'm fine." Alicent finally manages to get out, Rhaenyra's nods but her worried expression does not leave her face.
She extends a hand, offering to help her up and Alicent accepts.
Their hands remained intertwined for a moment longer than necessary as their eyes met. In an instant Rhaenyra is taken right back to the first moment on the train. She sees Alicent, now that she feels her, nothing makes sense, not much else matters.
"Detention! Ms Targaryen." The Professor's stern tone makes Alicent jump and Rhaenyra remains fixated on the other girl, she wonders if Alicent had also just been jolted out of a daze.
A daze Rhaenyra would happily exist in.
Alicent removes her hand and the Targaryen finally returns to her own body.
"For what?" She finally barks, a deep scowl as she glanced at her uncle.
"Saving her life?" Rhaenyra taunts with the same tone, not caring to keep a respectable distance.
"For disobeying me." Daemon counters through gritted teeth, peering down at her.
Rhaenyra's scowl deepens before letting out a scoff. Evidently, choosing to take a class her uncle taught was not one of her smarter decisions.
"Go, now. You remain in detention until dinner is served." Daemon reiterates, unforgiving, but Rhaenyra doesn't move.
"Move to the back of the line, Ms Hightower." He orders the Slytherin girl and dismisses his niece in the same breath.
More so than ever, Rhaenyra thinks her uncle repugnant. She decides detention would prove an adequate escape. At this moment she would rather be anywhere else but in Daemon's presence.
The younger Targaryen finally turns around, shoving her way through the crowd.
"Rhaenyra–" She hears Laenor call out to her as she steps out of the door. Her temper overpowering everything else, she fails to acknowledge him.
Rhaenyra has been in detention for over an hour now, assisting Professor Westerling with filing his paperwork in the library.
A dreadfully boring affair and it has taken every ounce of the Gryffindor's strength to not scream out in frustration.
"I don't understand, Professor." Rhaenyra blurts out in the midst of a prolonged silence.
"Understand?" Harrold responds.
"Why can't I just use magic for this?" She asks, reaching up to place the file on the shelf before grabbing an empty one next to it.
"If you used magic then this wouldn't be a punishment now, would it?" Harrold states as expected and Rhaenyra huffs in defeat.
"I don't know what you did but your uncle seemed very cross." The Professor adds, and the feeling of agitation returns.
"Well, he's a lunatic." Rhaenyra quips.
The Professor fails to say anything in response, simply clearing his throat.
"Just a few more hours and then you can go for supper." He states, resuming his read of The Daily Prophet.
Rhaenyra lets out a sigh, begrudgingly returning to her the task at hand but she flinches when she hears a loud thud.
The Targaryen looks up to see the man she was just speaking to a moment ago, with his face flat on the table, the only indicator that he was not dead was the loud snore that erupts from his nose.
A familiar face emerges from the shelves next to the man and Rhaenyra shoots out of her seat.
"Alicent." The Targaryen says, an uncharacteristic squeak to her voice.
"Hey." The other girl greets her with a genuine smile and Rhaenyra is floored.
She has been with her share of women but there is just something about Alicent that she cannot fathom, it is uncertain, but it demands her attention.
Alicent shifts her gaze awkwardly, Rhaenyra quickly restores her resolve once she realizes just how uncomfortably long she must've remained staring at the other girl without speaking.
"Uh- what'd you do to him?" She asks, an attempt to smother the air of unease between them.
Alicent shrugs, putting her wand back into her pocket.
"A simple sleeping jinx." She responds and it was Rhaenyra's turn to smile.
"Oh, so you can do magic afterall." The joke leaves her lips before she can mitigate it.
Rhaenyra braces herself for a slap or something of the sort, she even expects the other girl to simply storm off.
Instead, Alicent gives her a playful eye roll, ghost of a smirk still prevalent. She shows no signs of being offended and Rhaenyra is stunned. A joke at somebody's expense after they'd almost died would be too much for most people, but apparently not for Alicent.
"You should escape while you can. He might wake up soon." The auburn haired girl quips, turning to make her way out of the library and Rhaenyra trails after, having no desire to part with the other girl so soon.
"You know, you didn't have to do that, just because I helped you once it doesn't mean that you owe me anything." The Targaryen states and she catches Alicent raising her eyebrows in what she can only hope to be an amicable shock.
"I know that. I just don't think it's fair that you got punished for it." Alicent's tone was more gracious than she ever heard it, an effortless smile tugs on Rhaenyra's lips.
"Right, my uncle's not big on playing fair." The Targaryen quips as they make their way to the exit.
"I can tell." Alicent responds through a light chuckle, one Rhaenyra mirrors.
Once they reach the hallway, there's a pause.
Alicent opens her mouth to speak but Rhaenyra interjects.
"You know, I always assumed you hated me." She admits, snubbing her own pride, and she nearly succeeds, but Alicent's response acts like a swift blow to the gut.
"Have we spoken before today?" The other girl asks and all of a sudden Rhaenyra feels foolish, she wants the ground to swallow her whole.
She gives Alicent a clipped smile, an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
"You don't remember?" Rhaenyra asks, every word she speaks only making her feel more vulnerable.
"I'm sorry, no. I don't." Alicent responds, expression otherwise unreadable but the Targaryen decides she doesn't want to decipher it.
"Don't worry about it. Thanks again." She swiftly dismisses the matter, flashing Alicent another smile, as gallant as she can manage.
The Targaryen takes her leave without waiting for a response.
Rhaenyra stirs from her slumber when she feels movement next to her, but her eyes only snap open once she feels an arm snake across her exposed abdomen.
The Targaryen finally musters the courage to take a quick glance next to her, and as she suspected, she sees a girl she frankly doesn't even recall getting into bed with. Nothing but a loose sheet covering her naked figure.
The next thing Rhaenyra takes notice of is the breeze she feels on her own skin, she looks down to find herself also completely unclothed.
"f*cking hell." Rhaenyra grumbles with a hand covering her face, mortified.
She tries to recall the events of the night before, Rhaenyra remembers music and dancing, and butter beer, way too much butter beer.
The Targaryen tries her best to maneuver her way out of the bed without waking the girl.
She does so successfully, taking a swift look at the clock perched on the wall before rushing to her cupboard, grabbing her Quidditch attire.
Getting dressed proved a challenging task as waves of nausea came and went, accompanied with a throbbing in her head, it's no doubt that her hangover had the upper hand.
Rhaenyra makes the mental note to snag a tonic from the potion storeroom, if she had any hope of focusing on the game.
Once the Gryffindor is dressed she exits the bathroom, much to her discomfort the girl who was asleep is now awake, sitting up in her bed.
"Hey." She greets the Targaryen timidly and despite herself, Rhaenyra flashes her a gentle smile in return.
"Hi." She responds as she nears the bed, bending down to put on her shoes.
The girl boldy rises, the sheet naturally falling off her as she does, and Rhaenyra averts her eyes, now more agitated than uncomfortable.
She leans in with intention of capturing Rhaenyra's lips with her own but the Targaryen moves her head before she can.
"Sorry, I've got a Quidditch match." She says and she watched as the dark haired girl's face fell into a scowl, she retrieved her clothes off the floor finally getting dressed.
"Listen–" Rhaenyra starts but pauses once she realizes she doesn't even recall the girl's name.
"I think you're great and clearly we had a lot of fun last night." She rephrases, a practiced response but the girl falls for her flowery words.
"Yes, it was fun." The other girl replies with a hopeful grin and Rhaenyra shifts her attention elsewhere, she braces herself for the inevitable.
"Can I see you again?" The girl utters the question and the Targaryen has to suppress a sigh.
"I don't know–" She responds after a beat.
"I have Newts coming up, I really should focus on my classes." Rhaenyra doesn't attempt a convincing lie, only eager to take her leave.
"Oh." The girl responds with dejection.
Entirely expected as Rhaenyra doesn't make an effort to soften the blow.
Only moving closer to the front door.
"Sorry, I really have to go but– you can take your time, there's no rush." Rhaenyra says, pulling the door open.
"Just make sure you lock up when you leave, if you don't mind." She adds with a half-smile, her hand on the knob.
The Targaryen disappears out before the other girl can manage another word in, leaving her alone in the dormroom.
-
Subsequently that same morning, Alicent had been silently enjoying breakfast in the Great Hall with Criston, for the most part.
Occasionally, glancing at the Gryffindor table across the room, accidentally catching Rhaenyra's gaze once or twice in the process.
Girls had been crowded around the Gryffindor captain since she sat down, therefore, in Alicent's defense, Rhaenyra was quite difficult to miss.
"Ok, I swear the only reason she's got so many supporters is because she's slept with like half of them." Criston states bitterly, gesturing to the display a few feet away.
His attempt at seeming unbothered only brought more attention to his already gleaming jealousy.
"I don't know, I think we might've judged her too harshly. She seems quite genuine." Alicent states, she makes the conscious effort to sound casual about the observation.
"And she's funny." She adds and Criston makes a face as if she'd just physically wounded him.
"Oh no, Alicent. Not you too." He groans before bending down to rest his forehead on the table dramatically.
"What's wrong?" Laena finally emerges, taking a seat in between them.
"Alicent's swooning over Rhaenyra Targaryen." Criston mumbles with his head still resting against his arm on the table and Alicent's eyes widened.
"No, absolutely not. I don't swoon." Alicent's attempt at defending herself is only met with a skeptical stare.
"Can't say that I'm surprised, babe." Laena states, reaching up to run her fingers through the boy's hair.
"She practically saved Alicent's life the other day." She adds and Criston lifts his head off the table, mouth agape.
"Wait, she did what?" He asks, leaning in, evident intrigue replacing his earlier upset.
"Yeah, haven't you heard? She protected her from a Dementor in defence class." Laena states and Criston eyes widen so much Alicent was sure they'd pop right out of his head.
"Rhaenyra's her knight in shining armor." Laena adds, with an unnecessary shimmy of her shoulders and Alicent shakes her head, repulsed.
"You are sick." She quips, earning laughter from Laena. Her boyfriend on the other hand, was still too dumbfounded to react.
He was not allowed a moment longer to deliberate over the new knowledge as the Quidditch players began clearing out one by one.
"Come on, mate. The game's about to start." The Slytherin keeper says, with a quick hand on Criston's shoulder as he walks past.
Criston then turns to his girlfriend, connecting their lips for a chaste kiss.
"Wish me luck." He states, glancing at Alicent one last time before taking his leave.
"Goodluck, my love. I'll see you out there." Laena says.
"Goodluck."Alicent repeats, she watches as the other girl rose from her seat before copying her.
Laena pauses.
"I thought you weren't coming?" Her tone more amused than accusatory.
"I changed my mind." Alicent states, folding her arms over her chest and the sudden laugh that comes out of Laena causes Alicent's cheeks to turn pink.
"Stop that!" The auburn haired girl raises a hand to hit her friend on the arm but it does nothing to subdue Laena's amusem*nt.
Just as Alicent thinks she's in the clear, her friend gets the idea to embarrass her further.
"Swooning!" Laena bellows obnoxiously, heads naturally snapped to glare at her but her best friend seemed to relish at the attention.
Alicent drags her feet the rest of the way out of the hall, partially covering her face with her hands.
Half an hour into the Quidditch game and there have been no casualties as of yet.
Alicent might just be able to stomach this one.
The Gryffindor's held the lead: 60 - 20. Not that the score matters much to Alicent at all.
Especially since she'd spent most of the game simply fixated on a certain silver-haired captain.
Alicent sorely lacked knowledge in the rules of Quidditch but one thing she is sure of is that the Gryffindors appointed Rhaenyra their leader for a good reason.
Watching the Targaryen in her natural element was a fascinating sight to see and Alicent was nothing short of captivated.
They had met eyes several times this morning in the Great Hall but Rhaenyra has failed to look at her since. It conjures an unease that she can't ignore, she realizes it's irrational but she wants Rhaenyra to see her, to spot her amongst the crowd.
Alicent's always judged the various girls that were tripping over themselves just to get a chance with Rhaenyra. She has been privy to multiple discussions surrounding the Gryffindor in the past but always found them nonsensical.
Alicent found out the hard way, holding the Targaryen's attention was indeed just as intoxicating as it is addicting.
The Quaffle makes it past the Slytherin keeper once again and cheers erupt from the Gryffindor crowd.
Slytherin supporters in turn fling out harsh words at the players, some settle to groaning loudly, others begin taking their leave; no longer interested in witnessing the game's outcome.
"That's another point for Gryffindor!" The moderator announced through the loudspeaker.
"Now don't worry Slytherins, your team still stands a chance of winning, as long as your seeker catches the Golden Snitch." He states and Alicent silently nods in understanding, only just catching onto the rules of the game.
"Come on, Slytherins! You can do this!" Laena continues shouting out words of encouragement.
"How is it possible that they suck more than they did last term?" She turns to Alicent and the auburn haired girl can't help but let out a laugh at Laena's abrupt shift of tone.
"Can't believe I let Criston drag me along to his Quidditch practice everyday." Laena scowls and Alicent decides to be diplomatic, not big on taking sides, she fails to grace her friend with a response.
Alicent decides to turn her attention back to the game and it finally happens.
Rhaenyra sees her in the crowd.
They remain staring at each other for a few seconds or minutes, Alicent could not say for sure, as Rhaenyra's hard gaze focused on her, she cannot fathom anything else. Her perception of time warped, everything comes to a standstill.
It seems that Rhaenyra was just as, if not more disoriented as she fails to spot the bludger flinging in high speed, heading in her direction.
"Rhaenyra, watch out!" Alicent exclaims, sharply rising from her seat.
Rhaenyra reacts, however, a fraction too late. The Bludger crashes directly into her shoulder.
The Targaryen loses her balance, slipping off her broom before landing on the sandpit down below. The soft surface luckily breaks her fall, Alicent observed from the stands as Rhaenyra squirms on the ground, grabbing her shoulder in visible pain.
Professor Velaryon who has been overseeing the game rushes to her side, Alicent can't hear what is being said between them but she sees the Targaryen shake her head before attempting to sit up, but she winces in pain once again, falling on her back. Her hand still clutching her shoulder.
"Somebody call for the nurse!" The Professor orders with a raised voice and a few Gryffindor girls take the initiative to move out of the crowd, swiftly making their way to the hospital wing.
Alicent begins pushing her own way through the crowd as well, with intention to make her way down to the pitch.
"Wait, Alicent where are you going?" Laena asks over the commotion but she fails to respond.
Once she gets to the field she crouches down next to Rhaenyra, the girl still had her eyes closed, but Alicent is overcome with an uncanny feeling of deja vu.
She recalls Rhaenyra kneeling next to her in class after saving her from the Dementor.
"Hey, where does it hurt?" Alicent asks, careful not to startle her and the Targaryen finally opens her eyes.
Alicent is staggered momentarily as the look Rhaenyra gives her concerned gaze in return is instead one of pure relief. She even catches a smirk, ever so faint, but it still makes her heart beat faster in her chest.
"I can't move my shoulder." Rhaenyra answers honestly, before laying her head back down against the sand in defeat.
"Are you alright, Rhaenyra?" A dark haired boy asks, rushing to her side from the other end of the pitch.
"Yeah, I'm doing just fine, Harwin. Why else would I be laying on the ground?" She quips sarcastically but she receives no reaction from the boy. He merely situates himself next to Alicent, a similar look of worry plastered across his face.
"I can help." The Hightower girl says, carefully guiding Rhaenyra's arm so it was now resting over her own stomach, putting much less strain on her shoulder as a result.
Alicent hastily pulls her hand away, with the feeling of Rhaenyra's warm skin against her own, a familiar panic starts to manifest within her once again.
Alicent mourns who she was two days ago.
The version of her that never understood why most of the girls in school were so captivated by Rhaenyra. She never thought she'd end up just like them after a single encounter.
Crushing over the Gryffindor that everyone wanted to be with, yet somehow always out of reach, never truly accessible.
Alicent has replayed the moment with the Dementor a dozen times over in her head, she doesn't understand why Rhaenyra would simply put herself in danger just to save her.
What she knows now is that the arrogant, self-important girl she thought Rhaenyra to be, doesn't exist in actuality, she was wrong about her.
Alicent understood the allure now, and she hates herself for it.
The Slytherin retrieves her wand from her pocket, prepared to perform the repair and restoration spell.
"I don't think that's wise, Ms Hightower, the nurse will be here soon." Professor Velaryon interjects, even though Rhaenyra herself showed no signs of apprehension.
Both girls turn to glare at him, annoyed at the intrusion.
"The nurse is in the opposite side of the castle, Professor. What if I die before she gets here and Alicent is the only person that could have saved me?" Rhaenyra retaliates dramatically on Alicent's behalf, and the Professor narrows his gaze.
"You have a dislocated shoulder, Ms Targaryen, you're not going to die–" He argues but Rhaenyra interrupts with an exaggerated groan.
She begins writhing on the ground, purposefully creating a scene and Alicent has to purse her lips to hide her amusem*nt.
She glances at Rhaenyra's friend, who seemed to be just as entertained, although shaking his head in dissaproval to mask it.
"Ok, fine!" The Professor says over Rhaenyra's gripes and groans.
"Go ahead, Hightower." He adds defeatedly, and Rhaenyra finally siezes her theatrics.
"This is going to hurt a little bit." Alicent warns as she hovers her wand over Rhaenyra's shoulder.
"I can take it." Rhaenyra quips, her tone when partnered with the inviting curve of her lips lures a feeling out of Alicent that she isn't prepared for.
Her attempt to ignore it only causes heat to rise to her cheeks.
"Episkey." Alicent recites the spell without another moments thought.
Rhaenyra grunts at the feeling of her shoulder being forcibly popped back into place and Alicent holds her breath.
"How does that feel?" She asks.
"Good. It doesn't hurt anymore." The Targaryen says, finally capable of sitting up on her own, Alicent lets out a sigh of relief.
"Thank Merlin. Can we go back to the game now?" Harwin asks, standing up to retrieve his broom.
"You really have to stop doing me favors." Rhaenyra says, smiling wide enough that her dimples are showing and Alicent can't help but remain fixated on them.
"Well, you started it." She replies before taking her bottom lip in between her teeth, hiding a grin.
—
Index:
Death Eater - a group of wizards described as "pure-blood" supremacists led by Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter's arch-enemy.
Quidditch - a team sport played while straddling broomsticks, in which goals are scored by throwing a ball through any of three hoops fixed at either end of the pitch.
Golden Snitch - smallest ball used in Quidditch. It was a walnut-sized gold-coloured sphere with silver wings. It flew around the Quidditch field at high speeds, sometimes pausing and hovering in place.
Bludger - a black iron ball used in every match, which are bewitched to fly around and try to knock the players off of their broomsticks. It is the Beaters' job to protect their teammates from it.
Quaffle - approximately the size of a football. When a Chaser uses it to score once, they earn ten points for their team.
Dementor - dark creatures that consume human happiness, creating an ambiance of coldness, darkness, misery and despair
Auror -a 'dark wizard catcher'. an elite group of witches and wizards, loyal to the Ministry of Magic, whose mission is to fight against and capture the forces of the Dark Arts.
The Daily Prophet - a wizarding newspaper based in London.
The Dementor's Kiss / The Kiss - the act of extracting the human soul through the mouth, leaving nothing more than a living body, without any memory, feelings, or sense of self
Expelliarmus - the Disarming Charm: forces the subject to drop whatever they're holding.
Expecto Patronum- the most powerful defensive charms known to wizardkind. It channeled the caster's positive emotions into a powerful protection and evoked a partially-tangible positive energy force known as a patronus.
Episky - used to heal minor injuries
Colloportus - locks doors magically so that it cannot be opened manually.
