Chapter 1
The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of her button boots echoed down the hallway, punctuating the stillness with an insistent beat. Flora Bishop's shoulders drew close to her body, squeezing her books to her chest as she curled inward like a leaf against the chill of autumn.
As she darted through the hall, charmed portraits blinked awake, their painted eyes following her. "Quite late for class are ye no', wee Hufflepuff?" a portrait kindly asked, his monocle glinting in the torchlight of his painted room. His words were met with a fleeting blur of her plaid skirt and shy silence. “Hmf, well, what a bloody rude lassie ye are!”
The air around her was sweetened by her natural pheromones, a sugary vanilla scent, a touch of comfort she carried. Lately, however, it was tinged with a faint burnt odor, a tangible echo of her frail, spiraling nerves.
The feeling of being lost physically and metaphorically hovered over her like a looming shadow.
Ghosts, shimmering forms of former students and staff, meandered overhead. They cast her curious, ethereal glances, their translucent hands poised as if ready to guide. But Flora kept her gaze forward, her jaw set.
She didn’t need help.
After all, she wasn't lost…er…well, not thoroughly lost.
Flora cringed, averting her ice-blue eyes from the ghosts. Eye contact- be it from the living or dead- made her highly uncomfortable. Quickening her pace, she ventured deeper into the sprawling unknown.
Hogwarts was a massive puzzle, a richly woven tapestry steeped in history and grandeur, its towers reaching out to the sky, seemingly infinite. Everywhere she turned, there was a new corner whispering secrets, a new mystery eager to be unraveled and deciphered. But Flora?
She wanted no part in such ridiculousness.
Life had put Flora through the wringer—lost her Pa’, the soul of her world, grappled with the unexpected shift after recently presenting as an Omega, wrenched from the warm Virginia earth she called home and transplanted in a foreign land, its hills rolling as endlessly as her disquiet.
And when Fate decided it hadn’t had its fill of Flora’s trials, it hurled her into the reluctant and keenly awkward embrace of a widowed uncle, a man as alien to her as the bewitching mysteries of Diagon Alley.
And to put the strawberry on the shortcake, Flora was enrolled in school as a sixth year after spending her entire life being homeschooled…
As if everything else just wasn't enough.
The fervent desire for normalcy niggled at her, a relentless itch beneath her skin. Flora longed for the simplicity of her old life, the comforting monotony she’d once taken for granted… Maybe a companion or two to shower with the affection her Omega nature craved to give...
That was her dream within these stone walls. Was a little mundane too much for a witch to ask for?...Clearly, it was.
Flora knew with a certainty that resonated deep within her, that the erratic world of Hogwarts and her yearning for a taste of 'normal' were as compatible as fire and ice. Yet, she'd be a niffler's aunt if she allowed that to douse the stubborn spark of hope that smoldered within her.
"Gosh, darn it!" Her soft voice ricocheted off the stone walls, filling the empty corridor. Flora skidded to a halt, the soles of her shoes squeaking against the polished floor. "Should've asked that chatty portrait for directions when I had the chance," she muttered, scolding herself.
The introvert within her, that small voice that begged for invisibility, for anonymity, gnawed at her resolve.
Flora was no archetype Omega, brimming with social grace, baked goods, and an ever-ready smile.
At least not anymore.
…Well, Flora did tend to carry an excessive amount of baked goods on her person, but that was a requirement for any decent Hufflepuff…
A gal had to be prepared…
Oh, Flora could nurture with the best of them. She'd done it with Pa', with her little garden back home, and the stray animals that wandered onto their property….But now?
Amidst the chaos of a new country, a different culture, and those peculiar accents that made English sound foreign, how was she to unearth the affection that had been so second nature to her before?
Her old joy and confidence had been buried with her father, leaving a sense of emptiness with a hefty helping of inadequacy in its wake...
An echoing crash followed by crude rhymes and chortling laughter set her nerves on edge.
"Sweet cupcakes, not Peeves!" Flora's heart thundered in her ears, her voice a whisper of dread.
Peeves, the undisputed master of mayhem at Hogwarts, hadn't taken notice of Flora, but that did nothing to calm the frenzy in her mind. She'd witnessed the chaos he delighted in, his reckless pranks that sent students into a tizzy, and Flora feared the day her armor of invisibility would fade.
With that beastly spectre's ghastly cackle as her incentive, Flora broke into a trot, her footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls.
Relief crashed into her like a wave when a familiar figure appeared from the shadows.
She chirped with joy as the statue of Merlin came into view, an anchor amidst the whirlpool of the unfamiliar Hogwarts landscape. It was a marker, a sign that she was close to Uncle Fig's classroom.
Her footsteps quickened as she aimed for the familiar statue.
A faint, but undeniably intoxicating scent urged her faster still, welcoming her to that part of the castle.
If luck was on her side, she'd gain her bearings. If not, she could take solace in the proximity of Uncle Fig's room and perhaps gather the courage to ask for his help.
After all, working up the nerve to ask was certainly less terrifying than a Peeves encounter.
The lovely scent strengthened as she moved forward, calming her frayed nerves and leaving her a dizzy.
She lifted her chin, pulling the scent in with a deep breath.
Warm toffee...her favorite treat.
Her eyes slid closed of their own volition, savoring the scent as she rounded a sharp bend in the corridor.
“Agh!” She cried, slamming into a solid masculine wall of warmth and wool. She sputtered on words as her world tilted with the impact. Ams flailing Flora grabbed at air before landing on her bottom with a hard thump.
An armful of potion ingredients, precariously balanced by the tall figure, spilled from his grasp. Flora flinched as variety of magical things rained over her.
A cloud of powder erupted, hanging like a mist, glimmering in the stray shafts of light filtering from the high windows. It cast an ethereal veil between her and the stranger, obscuring her vision in a glittering fog.
Plants and other odd ingredients scattered about them with a cacophony of clatters and shattering. Bright moonstone crystals spun and skittered on the floor, their surface gleaming in the diffuse light.
As the powder lingered the silence amplified in the wake of the crash.
Florence stood in a blind daze, familiar disorientation returning with a vengeance.
"Watch where you're going!" the figure said, his voice brimming with surprise rather than annoyance.
"S-sorry...I didn't...mean..." Flora's stuttered apology trailed off, drowned in the cloud of potion powder. Her eyes watered fiercely and she fought not to cough.
The burnt toffee was a near-physical presence choking her.
A large hand reached out in the haze, flailing in her direction, its owner obviously blinded by the dust.
With a yelp she dodged a smack and grasped his hand, less to accept his assistance and more to avoid being inadvertently pummeled by the boy's flapping.
A jolt trembled up her arm, vibrating through her body with a warm heat.
She gasped and his grip tightened before hauling Flora bodily off the foor.
The unexpected momentum had her teetering on her toes, her free hand flying to her abused shoulder as she winced.
"Ow! Wait! Wait!" The plea escaped her lips in a desperate whimper, her attempt to wrench her hand free proving futile against his grip. An uneasy sense of vulnerability stirred within her, evoking a raw awareness of her Omega status—petite and seemingly frail in comparison to the more formidable Alphas and Betas. "Please, you're hurting me!" she cried, instantly his grip slackened but he didn’t break the connection.
"My sincerest apologies... I didn't mean to..." His voice, tinged with a whine, broke through the clearing cloud of potion powder. He glanced down at the scattered ingredients, his frustration evident. "Blast it all... My ingredients! Are you alright, miss?"
His concern was genuine, warming her like a sip of Firewhisky on a cold night.
Her gaze traveled upwards, resting upon the awestruck expression of a boy whose jem hued eyes were as striking as his features.
Garbed in the proud colors of Gryffindor—scarlet and gold—his hair blazed like a fiery crown, matching the hues of his house. His name fluttered at the fringes of her mind, tantalizingly close yet elusive.
His breath hitched, mouth dropping open in a silent exclamation.
A shocking flush of pleasure coiled within Flora, a blinding cocktail of desire and giddy elation.
She'd never felt...like this...before...
His lips tugged into a broad grin, anchoring her to the spot with an intensity that defied logic. His grip tightened as his fingers interwove with hers. The touch left her trembling.
Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach as his eyes glittered with a twin flame.
His emerald eyes, irises blown wide in wonder, drank in her gaze, a silent query rippling within their depths. His brows hitched upward, disappearing into the wild tangle fiery curls.
As if tugged by an invisible tether, he leaned in, guided by the magnetic pull simmering between them.
The scent of toffee, thick, a tantalizing aroma that curled around them and Flora distantly wondered if he had candy on him and if he'd share with her...
Alpha will provide... Her instincts purred in her mind like a seperate entity.
A growl vibrated his chest, but he stifled it with a cough as she pulled her hand free.
Cupping his freckled cheeks she purred and lifted onto her toes as she pulled him down. His wide eyes grew heavy, he allowed the touch as Flora closed the distance between them.
Their lips met too hard, almost bruising.
She had no experience with impromptu kissing...or kissing in general.
With their faces connected by flora froze, eyes exploding open as she realized what she'd done...
"I- I didn't...I'm.." she stuttered against his lips, pulling away only to be jerked back against him. His free arm wrapped warm and heavy about her waist.
Alpha will keep us safe. Protect us.
His lips were dry and rough but warm as they massaged hers with gentle insistence.
A deep rumbling sound startled her and she nesrly pulled away before realizing the noise wascoming from her- ehem- the boy.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips and Flora gasped, arms falling to his shoulders and curling around his neck. His tongue eased between her parted lips as he deepened the kiss, innocent curiosity bloomed into a searing, fervent exploration.
Toffee.
He tastes of toffee.
Arms tightening around him, she pulled him closer. His mouth slanted over hers and sheopened her mouth to him.
A chorus of clinks echoed in the quiet hallway as his remaining potion ingredients tumbled to the stone floor. His unoccupied arm wound around her, pulling her flush against him.
Alpha, her instincts whispered in awe.
Their connection, unexpected and startling, ignited their senses, their bodies aflame in a wildfire of sensation.
His vest buttons pressed into her chest as his mouth moved over hers, each stroke softening, inviting her into an intoxicating rhythm.
He moaned and she breathed the sound in as he plundered her mouth.
A potent maelstrom of desire surged, violent and intoxicating in its fervor.
He pulled back, lips swollen and glistening. He peppered her with kisses. Tethering her in place was his grin, broad and genuine, its intensity captivating.
An enchanting flush adorned his cheeks in rosy patches, his eyes molten and adoring as they connected with hers.
His verdant eyes widened in fascination, pupils dilating as they drowned in the depths of her gaze.
Warm fingers caressed her temple, smoothing a line down her cheek like she were made of glass. His eyes flicked between hers and her mouth.
He huffed before meeting her lips again, deliberate in his intensity as he pulled her tight against him, his hand tenderly cupped her chin, directing her to an angle that encouraged a deeper exploration.
She backed away, pulling him with her until her back met chilled stone.
He huffed a laugh as she hiked a legaround his waist, her skirt and petticoat wadding at her hips while his firm hands kneaded her thigh over the delicate lace of her pantaloons.
Somewhere in the back of her lust-fogged mind a voice whispered that it was too much, too soon.
But no, it couldn't be...
He was her alpha.
Flora belonged with him...
His hardened length throbbed against her center, teasing unknown promises of pleasure. Their clothing the only barrier to their intimate connection.
His hips pressed deliciously into hers. Glorious pressure.
"Please...Alpha..." she begged between kisses, the building heat curling within her, tightening her muscles was growing unbearable. She needed, "more..."
His fingers delved into her hair, cupping the back of her head as his kiss grew frantic with her words as he thrusted against her.
A moan spilled from her lips, breathy and unrecognizable, like a foreign sound that didn't belong to her.
Each rhythmic grind of his hips against bounced her back against the cold stone wall, the divine cocktail of friction and pressure drawing her closer to a precipice of ecstasy unknown yet tantalizing.
The rush of the school day vanished, replaced by the captivating touch of the Gryffindor.
She chased his mouth as he pulled from her, a sticky clear string connected them. Releasing her head he smiled sweetly as he swiped a thumb over her bottom lip before kissing the corner of her mouth, then her chin to trace a hot path across her jaw and down to the hollow of her neck.
"Please," she whimpered, pleading for an unknown, certain he was the answer.
Her body bowed, a keening sound slipping past her lips as he discovered the bundle of nerves at her neck, the source of her intoxicating vanilla scent.
Chest vibrating with a low purr he treated her mating gland with gentle reverence, his tongue painting a moist trail over her sensitive flesh before delving into the crook of her neck, nipping and suckling without restraint. She pressed into him, her fingers desperately clutching his hair and neck, needing him always closer.
Ever on the move, his long fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons lining her collar, his lips continuing their sweet assault on her neck.
Her desperation peaked as his hips pounded against her, the friction from their clothing leaving her tingling and aching. Separating from her neck with a wet pop, a chill swept over her skin, only to be chased away by the rush of his lips capturing hers once more.
She responded eagerly, keen to demonstrate her newfound skills. The intoxicating combination of her sweet vanilla essence and his toffee-flavored warmth had her purring in delight.
Her collar gave under his strength, cool air kissing her exposed flesh above her corset as buttons plinked and scattered over the stone floor.
Lower his lips traveled, a firm hand appreciatively shaping the curve of her bosom over her silk corset.
"Oh, i can't decide...weather I...adore...or loath...this corset-" He gasped between kisses.
The harsh sound of metal striking stone jolted them apart like a lightning strike, their lingering connection severed in an instant.
Their shared warmth dissipated in a heartbeat, replaced by the biting chill of the castle’s stone wall pressing into Flora’s back. Echoes of their gasping breaths filled the corridor, creating a symphony of surprise within the hushed silence that surrounded them.
Reality crashed back into her awareness, her gaze tracing over the wreckage strewn around them - books, quills, shards of glass, and an array of potion ingredients lay haphazardly scattered like the remnants of a well-executed Peeves prank.
Flora lurched, her pulse galloping as if to outpace a rogue Hippogriff.
Disoriented, her eyes darted down to her ruined dress, her bodice gaping and devoid of buttons, skin mottled with burgeoning bruises...
She fumbled to right her dress, fingers shaking, but the buttons were gone. She could still taste his lips on hers. Toffee.
The echo of his touch on her skin lingering like an unfinished spell.
A keening sob broke from her throat, a mix of frustration, embarrassment, and overwhelming confusion.
"Ah... I... um..." The redhead's voice faltered, his own appearance mirroring hers in its chaotic disarray.
His face was flushed, lips enticingly swollen from their fervent kiss. His wild hair now bordered on uncontrollable, verdant eyes wide in bewildered astonishment.
As if frozen by an unseen spell, he stood there, a silent figure radiating a vulnerability that left an unmistakable mark on the air around them. His lips moved, shaping words that never found their voice.
With a strangled cry, Flora spun on her heels and bolted from the scene, abandoning her effects and leaving a thoroughly bewildered Gryffindor in her wake.