Stories from Other Writers

Hogwarts AU - (Part 7)

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Story Link :

https://kceedraws.tumblr.com/post/188464804536/daminette-hogwarts-au-7

Masterpost Link :

(I tried to find their Masterpost/ Masterlist but they didn't have any.
So there's nothing here.)

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Adrien found himself eating his meals alone nowadays. With Lila exposed and unable to cling to his arm indefinitely; their classmates breaking off into their own bouts of self-loathing; and the Hogwarts students largely giving him space, Adrien was left to his own devices during mealtimes. Occasionally he would be approached by some Durmstrang students for an autograph, and he would steel his mouth into a passable smile and thank them for their continued support. As soon as they were out of ear-shot though, his smile dropped and he fell back into his quiet, monotonous routine.

Wake up. Get dressed. Eat. Attend morning classes. Eat again. Attend afternoon classes. Eat once more. Find a way to pass the evening. Go to bed. Lather, rinse, and repeat the next day.

So much for being a "champion", he thought as he listlessly picked at his lunch. The gravy-coated meat pie turned to mush under his constant mashing, and for a moment his heart rang with guilt at the wasted food.

Adrien's reverie broke when a tinkling, bell-like laughter rang into the hall; he didn't need to look up to know who it was, or even to see the one who had made her laugh.

What matters is that she's happy, he reasoned. At least one of us is.

《○》《○》《○》

Marinette awoke in a delicious blanket of warmth. She and Damian had spent the previous night playing countless rounds of Wizard's Chess in his room until they collapsed from exhaustion. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was calling checkmate, and Damian's king piece slouching its shoulders in shame. At some point during the night, Damian curled around her like a question mark, his limbs tucked between hers as if he were her anchor.

In many ways, he was.

"Dami," she said, her voice trudging out of slumber. "Dami, we need to get ready for class."

He groaned and flipped to face the wall. "Five more minutes."

Marinette picked at the hem of a sweater that Damian gave her last night (and which she had no intention to give back). Well...maybe they could spare five minutes.

Forty-five minutes later, they scrambled out of bed, laughing like crazy as they tossed on their uniforms. One look at the clock confirmed their suspicions - they were going to be very late to Potions. Articles of clothing flew across the room as they ducked around each other to put together cohesive outfits. Between their hurried search and stolen kisses were tidbits of questions that the other instinctively knew how to answer:

"Dami, can you pass me my -?"

"Got it here, Angel. Where did my other shoe -?"

"Look under your desk. Here's your sweater, think fast! Do you have my-?"

"Satchel? Next to the bed, near the right post."

Once they finished dressing, Marinette raced down the hall and tugged Damian behind her; unbeknownst to them, the paintings peered at their racing with curious fondness. Young love was always a strange sight to behold.