Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This was where Veronica’s story began: in the plentiful deserts of Vancouver, Canada, surrounded by pillars of ceremonial fire. Here, two lovers met under the light of the summer moon.

The heat wasn’t the only reason for the sweat dripping off of their bodies. The two were currently basking in their post-coital glow.

“So, 10 out of 10, huh?” Ozai asked.

“Eh, I’ve had better,” said Veronica’s future mother (or Veronica’s incubator, depending on which b*tch-ass politician that you ask).

“Does this make it better?”

Suddenly, Veronica’s future mother felt something soft crawling up her leg. It made her breath hitch in surprise.

“What…is that thing ?!” she said in utter disgust.

“Oh, you know, just my tail. My cute little tail. It increases my sex appeal greatly, am I right?”

“NAUR. Naur at all! What is this, tentacle porn? Who actually thinks this is attractive? Also, where was this tail during intercourse?”

“Tucked into a lil bun. I like to pin it back the first couple of times I’m with a woman. It tends to have a mind of its own, you see, and I don’t want to get too… kinky the first round.”

“Well. This has gotten way too kinky for my taste, anyway. Imma go now. HEIMDALL!” The rainbow bridge thing from Thor appeared [A/N: This was supposed to be revised in edits that never happened], and with a flash, Veronica’s future mother traveled from Earth to Asgard. Ozai never saw her again, nor did he know that an embryo was formed that night. An embryo that would soon be a fetus, likely eight weeks from now. Hopefully, thought Veronica’s future mother, she would not feel a tail forming inside of her.

…

Eleven years later: Hogwarts Express

The back few cars of the train on its way to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was filled to the brim with chaos and confusion. Nervous and excited, first-years mingled and mixed -- or didn’t. Veronica belonged to the latter half.

Veronica was very excited to begin her journey at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but she was very glad to have a trusted friend by her side already. She and Thor had played together for years during their Asgardian childhood, and spent many late nights talking excitedly about their magical adventures. I wonder when we’ll get to meet the other hundreds of other first-years?

A rush of bleach-blonde hair appeared near the compartment. It flopped about as a boy harshly pulled the door open. “Whazzup mothaf*ckas??!!”

“Bloody hell! That’s quite some foul language coming from your mouth. Did your mum teach you to talk like that to young ladies?” Veronica scoffed.

The boy paid her no mind and plopped down on the seat across from her. “I’m Draco. What’re your names, losers?”

Thor stood up, his already-developing muscles flexed menacingly. “You dare call Thor, the son of Odin, a loser ?”

“Yeah. Just did. Like right before. Do you need your hearing checked? Also, what are those muscles? Aren’t you like 11? Are you on the ’roids?”

“What eleven-year-old doesn’t form muscles? What kind of realm is this? You pathetic little boy. I can crush your skull with my bare hands. Your brain will squeeze out of the formed cracks, and we will all lay witness to your axons.”

“Pathetic? PATHETIC?! My father will hear about this!” Draco glared at the offending god.

Veronica looked back and forth between the two boys, rolling her eyes. Testosterone , she thought to herself. 

Without warning, a snake wrapped itself around Draco’s leg. “Jiminy cricket! Get off me!” he yelled in a distinctly posh British accent, despite the clearly American expression about an Italian cricket. [A/N: Apparently this is a euphemism for “Jesus Christ”? No one in the chat was aware.] The snake did not get off Draco. Instead, it bit him, and Draco screamed like a little b*tch.

“Ha ha ha,” Thor thundered. “This weasel screams like a little b*tch.” He reached up a palm to high-five Veronica.

“Lolz, good one, Loki!” Veronica praised, nodding down at the snake while returning Thor’s high-five.

At that moment the snake vanished, instantly replaced by a smirking Loki. “Thanks, I haven’t had that much fun in a while.”

Draco’s mouth gaped open, and his nostrils began to flare. “You lot better hope we’re not in the same house here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I’ll make your life a living hell at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do you hear me? My father will make your life a living hell. We have connections to the Ministry, you see.”

“The Ministry of what? Of being a Little B*tch?” Loki snickered and put his arms around Thor and Veronica. Defeated, Draco stomped away without another comeback.

And from that day on, Draco Malfoy was known to the trio as the Little B*tch Weasel. Never mind the fact that as the years passed, and puberty entered, Veronica began to better take note of the sheen of his hair. Of the glow of his skin. Of the sharpness of his wit, all of which sent a thrill through her body. 

And so this was where the rest of Veronica’s story began: in the long hallways and shifting staircases of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here, either two childhood friends or rivals could become more. Anything was possible, here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Chapter Text

It was the start of their seventh year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As they filed into the Great Dining Hall, there was a buzz about the seventh years. Rumor had it that Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, would be hosting a most honored inter-school tradition that involved everyone’s favorite pastime: competitions, to the death.

Veronica and her Squad chattered excitedly about the rumors as they chowed down on their magical spotted dicks. “Who do you think will get chosen to represent Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” Thor asked.

“Well, obviously, I’ll be placing my name into the Goblet. I was probably going to do it anyway, but then Loki looked me dead in the orb and said ‘bet’ so then I had to do it.”

“As you should. No true Gryffindor would back down from a challenge! Not like that Little B*tch Weasel over there.”

Veronica glanced over at the Slytherin table, where Draco and his goonies currently sat, laughing at some asinine something-or-others. “What are their names again? Little B*tch Weasel’s friends. Something about STD’s?”

“I do believe Crabbe was the cause of the crabs outbreak last year, yes,” Thor replied. “But the other one is called Goyle. Like... gargoyle. I dunno, doesn’t matter. His face looks like a deformed gargoyle.”

“So true, bestie,” Veronica chuckled.

At that moment, the sharp ringing of Dumbledore’s spoon making repeated and insistent contact with his glass chalice overtook any conversation. Immediately, the students turned to give him their full attention. Such respect he commanded, here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“Hey kiddos!” Dumbledore said whilst giving finger guns in the direction of every table, one at a time. “Guess what! We have SICK news! It brings me great pleasure to announce that this year, Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will host the esteemed Triwizard Tournament.” He waited with his arms outstretched for impending applause.

“Uh,” one lone student said in the midst of silence, “what the f*ck does that mean?”

“Excellent question! Ten thousand points to Hufflepuff! Anyways, it usually means someone dies in a blaze of glory! Fun timez!”

“Aw, that is sick!” yelled Draco. 

“What a terrible attitude to have,” Dumbledore said, frowning. “Five hundred points from Slytherin.” From the other end of the table, Snape made a displeased noise.

“What the hell? I was literally just copying your attitude!”

“Yeah, that’ll teach you not to be such a copycat Little B*tch Weasel!” Thor grunted. “Maybe next time you’ll think before you open your Little B*tch Weasel mouth.”

“Very cool, a thousand points to Gryffindor,” Dumbledore said.

“What the f*ck is this, the f*cking United States economy?? How are you just handing out thousands of points? Think of the inflation.” Draco grumbled, pointedly ignoring being called Little B*tch Weasel.

“What is the United States??” yelled someone from Hufflepuff.

“Another excellent question! Five hundred points to Hufflepuff!” chirped Dumbledore. “Anyways, the Triwizard Tournament will comprise of three very dangerous competitions, whereby one student from each competing school is selected to participate. The winner at the end of each of these tournaments will get like, hella glory. Also money. Also a sick trophy. Sick! Let’s meet the schools we will be hosting for the next school year.”

The dramatic entries of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons flew by in a dazzling show-off of their various school aesthetics, none of which Veronica really cared about. After all, the aesthetics of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was far superior. Dark academia for the win: f*ck the French. 

“We will also have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor joining us this year, also known as our DADA prof,” Dumbledore announced. “Kiddos, please give your warmest welcome for Fire Lord Ozai!”

Ozai stood up and waved regally, like a little princess b*tch (unlike Mia Thermopolis) , then flexed his biceps, less like a little princess b*tch (like Mia Thermopolis). Then he sat down and continued eating his stack of pancakes drenched in maple syrup and stuffing poutine into his mouth at the same time.

“He’s kinda ripped,” said someone from Hufflepuff. “He can be my DADA anytime, if you know what I mean.”

“Whoa,” exclaimed Thor. “A real Canadian!” He stared in awe. “I didn’t know those existed.”

“I meant banging,” that random Hufflepuff decided to clarify. 

“Thanks, but literally nobody asked,” Veronica replied politely.

“Anyway!” Dumbledore said, completely ignoring the fact that literal students were actively hitting on a staff member more than twice their age, “The feast shall begin!”

“Yeah, I’m feasting on this sight,” that random Hufflepuff cheered.

“Omigod, Gretchen, we get it, you’re horny!” some random Ravenclaw pouted.

“Five hundred points from Ravenclaw for that rude comment. We do not slutshame here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Thank you,” Dumbledore announced. Thankfully, at that moment the bountiful food prepared by house elf labor appeared on the tables, and any further comments were overtaken by teenage appetites.

“Hang on,” someone else from Hufflepuff called out. Dumbledore waved his hands, gesturing for silence. “Yes?”

“When do we find out who gets to compete for each school?”

“A most excellent question!” Dumbledore exclaimed. “A hundred points to Hufflepuff! All of you will find out exactly one week from today. Now eat your dinners, no more questions, and shut up! Unless you’re from Hufflepuff. You’re always welcome here, Sweaty!”

…

A week later, the students of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (and the other schools but who cares about them) all gathered together in the Great Hall, eagerly awaiting the announcement of who the student competitors would be. The Triwizard Cup sat in the center of the Hall, and everyone was fighting for a front-row seat to see what would happen. Veronica was no different, elbowing her way towards the Cup. Of course, she had to get past Little B*tch Weasel first.

“Nervous, Sudarso?” Draco smirked, while looking Veronica up and down.

“Not at all, Malfoy. F*ck you for thinking that.” Veronica scoffed.

“Yeah, I bet you would like to do that, huh?” He grinned, leaning in to whisper the words to her as he sauntered off. Veronica stared after him, angry yet thrumming inside.

In a great flambé of blue fire, the Cup spat out a scrap of still-toasty parchment. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and all the students leaned in to hear. “Edward Cullen,” he thundered. “Congratulations to Hufflepuff House!” 

The students of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, clapped politely. Veronica tried not to look so sullen as she felt her dreams of competition slip away.

Then the Cup lit up with fire and a crackling noise, and before they knew it another piece of parchment was ejaculated into the air. 

With a frown, Dumbledore caught the paper and squinted at it. “Harry Potter,” he rumbled menacingly. The students began to whisper in confusion and betrayal.

Veronica, Thor, and Loki glanced at each other, all confused. Had there been an error? Why were there two competitors from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Something was askance. 

Dumbledore’s attention snapped to Harry like a lion seeking its prey. “HARRY! DID YA PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE????” Dumbledore asked calmly.

“NAUR! BLIMEY! HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH A THING! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY BOLLOCKS,” Harry replied serenely.

But before any of them could come up with an answer, the Cup erupted into blue flame once more and a third parchment piece landed square in front of Dumbledore, who picked it up with shaking hands. A hush fell over the students as he coughed and roared, “Veronica Sudarso!”

Veronica froze. She could vaguely make out the sound of Thor and Loki congratulating her on her side, but her mind was clouded by the fact that her dream for all of one week had just come true. What she failed to notice was Draco Malfoy’s sneering face, as he disappeared around the corner like a petty Little B*tch Weasel.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and whipped out his spoon and mega glass chalice to get the crowd’s attention. “Soooo kiddos, looks like all three competitors are from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Go team! I guess all you other peeps came here for nothing.”

“F*ck you guys, we’re leaving!” yelled all the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons in unison.

“That’s great British hospitality right there!!!” Dumbledore cheered. “Five million points to me! Hahahahaha!”

Chapter Text

The first challenge arrived in less time than Veronica would have liked. Rumors flew: they had to face fierce monsters; they had to swim to the bottom of the sea; they had to outwit a vengeful professor. Either way, none of the chosen champions were any wiser than the spectators in the stands.

Veronica twirled her fingers nervously. She, Harry, and Edward were all currently waiting in a large tent on the outdoor grounds at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“What d’you reckon is out there?” Harry said, filling the tense silence. “I hope it’s Fluffy.” 

“I cannot begin to imagine what task we might face,” said Edward Cullen, in such a low tone that it seemed as if he was auditioning to be the next Batman.  (A/N - Haha do you get it? Get it?)

“Greetings, children!” Dumbledore announced gleefully. “Welcome to your first challenge. I trust that you haven’t been able to figure out what task lies ahead?”

“Literally no, we couldn’t, because you provided no f*cking clues,” said Veronica.

“How obnoxious! Minus 200 points from Gryffindor,” said Dumbledore, with great offense. “Anyways, your task today is to retrieve the golden egg from its fearsome guardian. And...” He paused, as if about to continue, then clapped his hands. “Good luck!”

“Wait, what? That’s all we get? Who’s the guardian? Why is the egg golden? What’s going on?” exclaimed Harry confusedly. 

“Why is the guardian fearsome? My parents did not sign a waiver for this. How is this legal?” Veronica questioned.

“You’re up first, Mister Cullen,” Dumbledore said with a placid smile. “Good luck! I hear you do well with fire, so you should find this challenge quite simple.”

Edward said nothing in response, only grimaced and left from the tent in a whirl of his sun-proof cloak. “At least it’s not holy water,” he mumbled under his breath.

Once the flap of the tent closed, Veronica’s fear began to rise. She still had no idea what “guardian” lay ahead, or what she would be forced to do. All she could focus on besides her nerves was the roar of the stands, and the ever-growing scent of smoke permeating through the air.

Another twenty minutes passed before Dumbledore emerged in the tent again, accompanied by the sound of a shriek loud enough to rival that of the Little B*tch Weasel. “You’re up, Potter!” he said brightly, completely ignoring the bloodcurdling scream from the arena behind him.

Harry, visibly shaken, followed the headmaster out of the tent — leaving behind only Veronica and her anxious thoughts. Suddenly, she heard a rustle coming from behind her. She whipped around, only to see the back of the tent open and Thor emerging from its opening. “Hey, it’s just me.”

Veronica let her shoulders drop in relief. As Thor outstretched his arms, Veronica ran right into them; an action that came almost second-nature to them, without pause, without thought.

“Thor, I’m so glad to see you. I don’t know anything about what’s going to happen to me! All I know is that I might be in danger of turning into a Little B*tch Weasel, based on Cullen’s screams.” said Veronica.

“They haven’t told you? Like, for real?” Thor asked incredulously. “It’s dragons guarding the egg. Two of them, to be exact. Cullen was totes dramatic about the whole thing but he managed to get it unscathed.” He shrugged with exaggerated aloofness. “I think he just has like, phobia of fire. Ran and Shaw aren’t so bad, honestly.”

As if to accentuate his lie, Veronica and Thor faintly heard the Little B*tch Weasel screams of Harry from the field outside. 

“Okay, well, maybe they won’t be so bad to you ,” Thor relented, glancing back behind him. Then he turned back to Veronica, and his gaze steeled with the intensity of his belief in her. “I heard those dragons are like, legends in the Fire Nation. They can totes sense whether or not you have good intentions, and you have like, the rawest and realest intentions of anyone I know!”

Veronica teared up at the ardor of Thor’s words. Truly, he did make her feel raw and real and right. She dug her face back into Thor’s muscled, chiseled chest, seeking to extract every ounce of comfort he had to offer. If only she could stay here forever, and all challenges be a thing of the past...

Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by Dumbledore opening the front of the tent and announcing that it was Veronica’s turn to face the guardians. “Mister Odinson! What are you doing here? Students are not allowed to mingle with the competitors right before the competition. Nine hundred points from Gryffindor.”

“Aw, fiddlesticks!” said Thor. “Anyways, good luck Veronica!” He disappeared behind the tent flap before she could offer her thanks.

Veronica took a deep, deep breath. She held the rawness, the realness, the rightness of Thor’s words inside her mind — and with another deep breath out, she took her first step out into the arena.

The roar of the crowd greeted her in a great tide of noise. Even from here she could hear the booing of Little B*tch Weasel and his STD-infected friends, but Veronica lifted her chin. She knew better than to let that bother her, after all, and lifted her wand high in preparation for the dragons to come. Immediately, she was able to set her sights on the golden egg ahead of her. It was perched on a rock just a short journey away from her,  but Veronica knew better than to expect an easy feat. 

Veronica gathered her focus; the shouts of the spectators became a dull hum.

After standing still for what felt like a whole minute, Veronica began to feel awkward just being there with her wand stuck up in the air. She had to do something , anything, to get the ball rolling here. She glanced around, then took a tentative step forward.

Instantly a great shape burst out from behind the rock and the egg, surrounded by flame and smoke, veering towards her with a cry. Veronica dodged its open maw just in time, only to duck and roll as a second blur of fire rushed past her — all of it in a split second, with no injuries except the jolt of a dragon tail hitting her hand, sending the object she held there flying. But in the next moment Veronica glanced down, and her heart dropped when she realized what exactly was knocked from her hand.

“‘Not that bad’, my arse, Thor,” mumbled Veronica. She slowly lifted herself up off of the ground, wincing at the soreness in her back. When her eyes gazed down to her bare hands, she was immediately filled with a rush of panic again. Her wand was gone. 

Her only means of defense was sprawled somewhere far across the arena, out of sight.

“Bloody hell. F*ck. B*llocks. Blimey.” Veronica listed off as many British expletives as she could name while trying to figure out her next move. “I’m such a numpty!”

Before she could take another step, she was surrounded by a flurry of vibrant colors. Pink, purple, orange, and green flame dazzled Veronica’s orbs in a dance of dragon fire. This was it: she would burn to death, in front of the entire audience of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In a last helpless moment, Veronica threw her arms up over her head —

And then the fire disappeared. Rather, the fire that burned in the aforementioned dazzling colors did. Only the familiar warmth of ordinary fire remained, and Veronica watched in astonishment as she realized these flames shot out of her very hands.

From up in the stands, Professor Ozai frowned in grave confusion. Which one of my many bangs resulted in this? he wondered, leaning forward to watch more closely. Such powerful fire can only come from my own spawn. He whipped out his binocular, which he conveniently had in his pocket already, to try and take a closer look.

Stunned, Veronica made the gesture again. The flames burst forth from her palms on cue, and the dragons begrudgingly shared a glance with each other. Then their heads bowed towards her in unison, and Veronica watched, orbs wide, as they disappeared into the sky.

What. The. F*ck.

She finally dared to take a look up the stands. The entire arena was silent, gazing at her with mouths open. She spotted Thor looking at her in absolute shock, and Loki right next to him, a familiar smirk on his face. 

Veronica made haste, and quickly snatched up the golden egg from its original spot. When nothing more happened and the arena continued to stare at her, she waved the egg around in the air. “Hello? Hola? I’m finished here!” she yelled impatiently. “Do I keep this thing or what?”

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Congratulations to you. We shall discuss your…methods of extraction at a later time, but for now, enjoy your victory!”

“You didn’t answer my question, in classic professor fashion here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Veronica said pointedly. “Do I keep the egg?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. Five hundred points from Gryffindor.” Dumbledore considered for a moment. “And yes, you keep the egg. What a marvelous question. Five hundred points to Gryffindor.”

“Uh, okie,” Veronica said. She exited the arena as her fellow witches and wizards reluctantly clapped for her. She was so caught up in her own daze at shock at what had just transpired that she failed to notice the penetrating stare of one DADA professor in the corner.

Chapter Text

Veronica shivered in the bitter cold as she waited outside the courtyard for Thor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She usually met him here to walk to class together every week, but today, he was late for some unfathomable reason. If she got frostbite off of this, Veronica made a silent vow that she would pierce his testicles.

“Hey loser!” a voice yelled. It was Little B*tch Weasel. “Question for you.”

Veronica groaned. “What do you want, you Little B*tch Weasel?”

His mouth curled. Lately, that was his response to the nickname. Throughout their childhood, he would whine and cry and talk about how he’d tattle to his father, but he seemed to be growing used to it. Good. He knew his place.

“Well you see,” Draco drawled, “I made a bet with Crabbe and Goyle before your first task. You see, I told them that it simply wasn’t possible for a loser such as yourself to make it through the task victorious. I was so confident in my claim that I may have said that I…” he winced.

“...what, Malfoy? I’m literally going to walk away from you right now. Spit it out.”

Draco was unable to look Veronica in the orb as he quickly spit out the end to his sentence “thatIwouldaskyoutogototheYuleBallwithme.”

“Can you repeat that, like, in English?” Veronica asked.

Draco sighed. “If I must, Sudarso. Although you did see how difficult it was for me to say it the first time, so asking me to say it again is flippin’ hecka rude. Anyways, I wanted to ask if you would go to the Yule Ball with me.”

Veronica stared. And stared. She continued staring, waiting in vain for him to continue on and tell her that this whole thing was one big joke, and that his STD-ridden lackeys were waiting behind the pillars to jump out and laugh at her.

But alas, that moment never came. Draco continued to wait for a response, his aura of confidence wavering with every passing moment. Finally, Veronica couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Why would you ever think I would agree to go to the Yule Ball with you? We get like, one dance in our entire school experience here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What if I wanted to spend it with someone who I can actually look at for an extended period of time without throwing up?”

Draco snarled. “Look Sudarso, don’t embarrass me here. I simply would not be able to live it down if you were to reject me. My father would sooner burn off his manhood before admitting that his son was rejected by anything less than a pureblood. So let’s just agree to go together, yeah?”

Veronica scoffed in Little B*tch Weasel’s face. “How romantic. Did you really think insulting my blood status would get me to go to the ball with you? I don’t want anything to do with you and balls, you hear me? F*ck off.”

“Greetings, children!” Suddenly, with absolutely no warning whatsoever, Dumbledore appeared in the courtyard. He was stroking his long white beard and chuckling to himself. It made both Draco and Veronica extremely uncomfortable. “So it seems like Malfoy is asking Sudarso to the Yule Ball, hmmmmm?”

“How did you hear that? You weren’t even here when I asked her!” Malfoy was furious and, like a toddler, he clenched his fists and stomped his feet.

Dumbledore twiddled his thumbs. “What do you think the crystal ball in my office is for if not spying on the students of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

“Oh, that’s pretty rad,” Malfoy said. “Do you think I could use it sometime?”

“Uh,” Veronica said, “why are you invading my right to privacy?”

Dumbledore gave Malfoy a thumbs-up. “Sure, you can use it. But only for spying purposes!”

“Yay!” Little B*tch Weasel screamed at the top of his lungs.

“This is terrible ,” Veronica snapped. “And I’m not going to go to the Yule Ball with Malfoy.”

“What terrible manners. Five hundred points from Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

“ What ?” both Veronica and Draco screeched.

“Why me?” demanded Draco.

“Well, spying on other students for nefarious purposes is super shameful, Malfoy. What are you going to do with the videos you watch? Hmmmm? Jack off? You should get your manhood burned off just for thinking that,” said Dumbledore.

Again, Draco clenched his fists and stomped his feet. “Why are you being a member of the horny police?”

“And why are you making me go to a ball with a Little B*tch Weasel like Malfoy? I have to consent to this!” Veronica fumed.

“Look, kids.” Dumbledore raised his hands in a woah, there manner. “Inter-house unity is of utmost importance at this time. Especially you, Ms. Sudarso, as a Triwizard Tournament competitor. Both of you will agree to this arrangement, or your houses will suffer the consequences.” His tone suddenly turned menacing. His beard quivered with rage.

“What the f*ck. I’m pretty sure this falls under abuse of power.” Veronica stated, Draco nodding in fervent agreement. “Also, how is your beard quivering?”

“One hundred points from Gryffindor for that rude question about my body,” said Dumbledore. “You should know that we respect boundaries here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Hey!” Veronica turned and saw Thor finally racing up to meet her. “Sorry I’m late! What did I miss?”

Veronica growled. “Oh, nothing, just the abuse of power and the invasion of my privacy.”

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Dumbledore said. “Five hundred points back to Gryffindor and Slytherin. Peace out.”

…

“Sudarso, your pacing is stressing me the f*ck out. Stop it,” Draco said in a bored tone.

Veronica groaned. “I can’t help it! We literally have to make our debut together and subject ourselves to the prying eyes of everyone at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How are you so calm?”

In lieu of an answer, he nudged her with his elbow and offered up his arm. Veronica gruffed and linked arms with him begrudgingly. A small part of her felt grateful, surprised at the consideration he showed her. His strong arm was a stabilizing presence to quench her fear, and she showed a sliver of appreciation by squeezing it softly. 

The doors opened, signaling the challengers that it was time to enter the Great Hall. Veronica watched as Edward entered with his date, Kristen Stewart. Harry followed soon after, with Parvati Patil attached to his arm.

All eyes turned to them as Veronica and Draco walked in gracefully. From the crowd, Veronica heard a familiar shout: “WHOOO! Let’s go, Sudarso!! Not you, Little B*tch Weasel!” All around them, other students snickered, while Draco’s STD-ridden companions frowned sadly.

It was time for the traditional first dance. The three pairs moved in sync to face their partners, preparing for the impending waltz. As they graced through the steps, Veronica was surprised to learn that Draco was actually…quite good? He led her confidently, and before she knew it, the first dance had ended and Dumbledore had announced that it was time for all students to join them on the dance floor.

“Well, Malfoy, I’m afraid that’s the only dance I know. We don’t spend too much time learning this kind of stuff back home.”

“Well, lucky for you, Sudarso, I happen to know of a few others that can keep us occupied until we can appropriately take a break from this dance floor. Let’s do my favorite dance: The Shoebill Stork .”

“How am I supposed to do a dance I literally don’t know a step of? Have you been listening to me?” Veronica asked.

“Trust me. Just follow my lead.”

Veronica watched as Draco lowered his head, and then shook it in rhythmic sync. He then placed his head down to his knees, and continued to shake. After this display, he glanced up at Veronica. “That’s the dance. Elegant, is it not? When we place our faces down to our knees, we are supposed to rub our foreheads together.”

“Word,” said Veronica, as she seamlessly followed his steps.

As their foreheads touched and they shook their shoulders together, as their bodies swayed in rhythm, Veronica was struck by the realization that the dance felt raw and real and right. How could she feel this way with Draco, of all people?

When the dance ended and they separated, Veronica and Draco took a moment to stare at the other, stunned and confused by the feelings that had emerged.

“Hey Sudarso, wanna dance?” Veronica heard the familiar baritone of her best friend coming up next to her.

“Thanks for asking and/or acknowledging me, you *sshat,” said Malfoy.

Thor’s muscles bulged through his dress robes as he flexed his offered arm. “Hmm, uh-huh,” Veronica said absentmindedly.

She led Thor to the dance floor (she would have let him lead, but she had too much top energy for that) and they began to get down to funky town. They raised their arms up and down diagonally, in perfect sync, just as they had been in their whole lives.

“So, who’d you come with again?” Veronica asked while moving her arms.

“Uh, not important,” he said.

“Whaaat? Just tell me!” she punched his arm playfully.

“Well,” he shrugged, “I didn’t go with anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted to go with you.”

The music ended. Right in the middle of their synced arm movements. Their hands were paused midway through their respective torsos, and Veronica could not help but stare incredulously at the muscled hunk who had just admitted something she never would have expected. 

Before she could say a word, a flame burst into existence and stood between her and Thor. No, it was not the spark that was quietly building between the two “friends.” Rather, there was just a strange middle-aged, but ripped, man with quite the disgusting goatee standing between them.

“Uh, Professor? Do you need something? Why are you just standing there with fire in your hand?” Veronica questioned.

Without prompt, Professor Ozai clapped his hands, and the fire became two. “Ohohohohohahahahaha!” 

Thor glanced at Veronica out of the corner of his eye. “If you want me to get you out of here, blink twice,” he whispered not-so-quietly.

“Uh,” Veronica said.

“Hey, kid! Wanna play with fire?”

“I’m underage.”

“EW, no, nothing like that. I just need to speak with you, Miss Sudarso, quite urgently.”

“Uh, no thanks?”

“I would strongly urge you to reconsider, Miss Sudarso. After all, wouldn’t you like to discover where your…special power comes from?”

Chapter Text

“Special power? I have the power of sass and raging self-confidence.”

Ozai nodded understandingly. “You can also literally emit fire from the tips of your fingers, but pop off queen.”

“Thanks,” Veronica said. “By emitting fire from my fingers, you mean like this?” She tried with all her might to replicate what happened at the first task, but her fingers remained intact and not burnt at all.

Ozai frowned condescendingly. “How unfortunate. But I can teach you to harness your power and control it. Fire shall be at your whim, and you shall be its master.” As he spoke the words, his voice sounded more and more sleek and menacing. Veronica found herself quite unnerved, but also intrigued. She wanted to win the Triwizard Tournament – that much was clear. And despite her projected confidence after her unprecedented victory, she knew in her heart that what had saved her a*s was the fact that she shot fire out of her hands, somehow impressing the two judgy dragons that were otherwise about to fry her.

She needed this: for her house, for Asgard, for Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even though all of the other competitors were also conveniently from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She needed to be the one to bring her school to glory. #feminism #girlboss #inherwinnersera

“Oh, I don’t like this, but keep going. I want to make fire my b*tch.”

“And so it shall be your b*tch.”

…

After the Yule Ball, Veronica and her DADA professor met in secret every night. Not like that, for she was not into older men. Rather, they met so that he could teach Veronica his admittedly impressive fire and lightning skillz. “I am teaching you the ways of the Flame,” Ozai said. “You are picking this up much faster than my useless son, Lebron. What an absolute walnut. A true waste of me sperm.”

“Please don’t talk about your sperm with me. Also, where did the pirate voice come from?” Veronica whined.

“Don’t worry about it. Argh. Let us continue,” Ozai said.

And so they did: day and night, between classes, Veronica learned to harness her power. Indeed, Ozai was very impressed with how quickly his young pupil was picking up the art of flames. She started with a small ball of fire in her hands, cradling it, fondling it gently. This ball was a major source of pride for Veronica. It warmed her insides. Then her power grew: she was able to eject a stream of fire from her hands. First in spurts, but then her powers graduated such that she could shoot load after load (of fire) straight into the sky. She felt powerful. 

However, Ozai had one more task for his spawn before he could reveal his true identity. It was to prove that she was truly worthy of being his daughter, the heir to the Fire Nation, to sit upon his regal Canadian throne. She must learn to wield lightning.

…

One night, Veronica was by the Black Lake, practicing her flame throwing. Just casual girly things. Her only company was the Giant Squid that resided deep within the lake's waters, the group of centaurs casually chilling by the entrance to the Forbidden Forest.

While she was progressing nicely with her fire studies, Veronica was also getting increasingly panicked as the days went on. The second task was approaching, and she still had no idea what was coming or how to prepare. Unlike the first task, competitors were expected to know what they were about to face in order to successfully complete the task, according to Dumbledore. She did not know if Edward or Harry had had any success in the matter, but regardless, they were not about to share it with Veronica. Edward was too busy stalking his human girlfriend as she slept at night, and Harry had some weird-a*s trauma thing going on with some dark wizard. Eh.

Fire began to bloom from her fingers and she shot out another hot stream into her surroundings. The embers were beautiful, orange flecks in the night. Veronica continued to admire her work until she saw what she had done.

“Oops.” The Golden Egg was on fire. “Sh*t. Oh well, guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get some scrambled eggs out of this.”

But alas, Veronica was not to have her midnight snack. For the egg began to glow from within, and she heard angelic voices emit from inside.

Water is wet.

And so you shall be. 

Missing something important? Well, don’t fret.

Swim in the Black Lake and your night will end in glee.

Veronica gasped. “My birth control!”

Chapter Text

It was the morning of the second task, and Veronica was downright lost.

Rumors had obviously carried by then, racing across the Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry grounds. She knew she had to endure something with water. She knew it involved, potentially, breathing underwater. But her whole schtick was fire. That was kind of incompatible, when one really stopped to think about it. Which Veronica had. Deeply, over and over again, to the point where she abandoned sleep in favor of rocking back and forth in her bed with her thumb in her mouth.

The lake was still and dark, a mirror expanse before the three champions. The stands were oddly quiet, a reflection of the lake itself – breaths held, waiting to see how the impossible task would unfold. Veronica gazed up, and quickly found the reassuring smiles of Thor and Loki. To her own surprise, she glanced behind them only to find Little B*tch Weasel staring right back at her. Only his face did not hold disgust, or disdain as she may have expected. Rather, it held something unfamiliar in it – was this fondness? 

Whatever it was: it felt raw, and real, and... right.  

“Greetings, children,” boomed the cheery voice of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s infamous headmaster. “Today, we will witness our champions take part in their second task as part of the esteemed Triwizard Tournament. So listen up, because I will not repeat myself for any of you losers.” He clapped his hands with evident glee. “So basically, it’s like this: you, the champion, have to dive in the lake and find where we have buried your most prized possession. Like, no stress, but you’ll probs have to fight vicious mermaids and sh*t. Wild stuff! Anyways, have fun!”

Dumbledore shot his flare gun into the air, which he conveniently happened to have hidden within his large, luscious beard. (“What in the fresh hell is that?” Little B*tch Weasel, purest of purebloods, virgin to the world of such Muggle technology, muttered to himself in the stands.) As soon as the shot went off, the three champions wasted no time in diving into the lake, ready to retrieve their possessions.

Veronica watched, treading water, as Harry ingested Gillyweed and Edward formed an air bubble around his head. While her two competitors dived right in (A/N: get it? Dived?) , she just remained in place, treading stressfully. F*ck, I really gotta do something, she thought, as the other champions vanished from sight. But all I know is fire, and fire and water... Well, we all played Pokemon growing up, we know which one will win.

Veronica knew she had to do something . After all, the state of her s*x life was at stake. Her blissful life of zero menstrual cramps was at stake. This. Meant. War.  

Clouds were gathering on the horizon, and Veronica tilted her head up to the sky hopelessly. She would simply have to accept her new life: a life of cramps and no s*x. It would be just like how it was for her years ago.  Just her, her tampons, and her fingers.

But wait: clouds. Vapor. Steam. The lake. All of it was water. She just had to do something to get rid of it.

Like a fire was lit inside her, Veronica paddled madly for shore. Ozai had shown her how -- she could do it, she just had to stand somewhere and balance and concentrate .

Veronica finally reached shore’s edge, and she immediately stood up and turned to face the Black Lake. As she gazed at its majestic waters, she closed her eyes, desperately trying to channel her inner powers just as she had done for so many nights before. She could vaguely hear her fellow students at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry murmur behind her as she really got in the zone. 

“Why does Sudarso look constipated?” 

“Shut up, I think she’s…focusing?”

“You got this, Sudarso!” Ah, Thor’s familiar voice, ringing out over the confused commentary. Unflinching and supportive as always. Veronica smiled fondly, and got to work.

With great might, Veronica conjured up an ever-growing ball of blazing flames. She started small, and then compelled her enlarging ball to move to the center of the lake in order to grow. She had complete and total control over this hot ball, and she basked in the prowess she had. As the ball grew from the power within her fingers, Veronica marveled at how good of a team her fingers and balls were. Really, they worked together with such harmonious melody that her heart sang with pride every time she shot her talented fingers at her warm ball. Holy crap, she thought in amazement. Amazeballs. 

As the minutes passed, Veronica and the incredulous students behind her watched as her ball grew to the size of a circus tent. This was the single largest ball Veronica had ever seen in her life. She was proud of how inflated it was. 

And her plan was actually working. The surface of the lake was bubbling, steam rising rapidly. The fire ball continued to get larger, Veronica’s focus never wavering as she moved her fingers deftly to give the ball what it craved. Her large, girthy ball was working its magic, and Veronica couldn’t be more proud.

Only a few more minutes passed before the lake was visibly shrinking, revealing seaweed and dying fish as the waterline receded. Not to mention the pained wheezes of the Giant Squid as it took in its dying breaths. Eh, Veronica thought. At least I can bang it raw now.

A wave of cheers went up from the students in the stands as they realized Veronica’s fire wasn’t just for showing off balls. Indeed, it was a ball with an important purpose. This was an absolutely essential ball. She could distinctly hear Dumbledore cackling with delight as the Giant Squid writhed in pain.

Slowly, the water disappeared from the pits of what was once the great Black Lake of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The champions, scattered in various places on the lakebed, stood in complete bewilderment. Especially Potter, gills and all. Veronica’s eyes scanned the grounds, until they landed on a familiar prescription bottle perched on top of a sharp rock. She grinned widely, and then merrily hopped on down to grab her birth control. With a snap of her fingers, the fireball disappeared, just as the Lake had before it.

Once it was in her hands, she turned back to Dumbledore and waved it around over her head. “Hey! I got my s*x pills. Can I go now?”

Dumbledore nodded eagerly. “Yeah bud! Almost, just chill out for a hot sec. Your fellow champions must also have a chance to complete the task before you can skedaddle.”

“That’s so reasonable. Kk!” Veronica chirped as she exited the Black Lake and took her rightful place on the winners dock. She watched as Edward retrieved Kristen Steward period-soaked panties (the combination of her blood and feminine scent drove him wild) and as Harry retrieved a picture of his dead parents (tragic and not nearly as funny as Cullen’s). For they were dead. He would never see them again. Except once his life ended, and he was in the afterlife wherever they were. And they would be in the afterlife. For they were dead.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “Amazing work, children! Or should I say, amazeballs? You have all managed to retrieve that which is most precious to you. You are all in great shape to participate  in the third and final task in the coming months.” He paused, then waved his wand in an intricate pattern in the air. Instantly, the sound of rushing water surged forth from the middle of the lake, and within moments the Black Lake was replaced completely, save for the Giant Squid, who unfortunately joined Harry’s parents in the afterlife.  For it was dead. Harry and Edward swam furiously to shore, eager not to drown mere minutes after their victory. 

Dumbledore’s voice rang out once more. “Once again, amazeballs performance today, children! I look forward to seeing you all put your silly little lives on the line for our entertainment when our third task arrives!” 

Chapter Text

TLDR: Veronica gets closer with both Thor and Draco. ...And everything feels raw , and real, and right.

Now that she had proved herself worthy of retrieving them, Veronica’s most precious item sat in its usual spot on her dresser, triumphant and alluring. The s*x pills stared back at her from their place of honor, and Veronica thought, Ah f*ck it. Time to put these bad boys to use for the b*ssy. 

Veronica’s thought process was interrupted by a sharp knock on her door. “Veronica? Are you in there?”

She immediately recognized the charming baritone of Thor, and went to swing open the door to her chambers. “What’s up?” she said, trying and mostly failing to disguise the fact that she had literally just been thinking about s*x two seconds ago. She hoped that the sweat on her forehead and dilation in her orbs were dissipating quickly.

Thor looked directly behind her, eyes immediately landing on her precious orange bottle on her nightstand. “There’s no need to be ashamed of thinking about s*x, Veronica. I literally do that fifty times a day. I am a God, with Godly needs, after all. Not that I exercise all of this pent up energy. I am a Godly Gentleman, after all.”

“I did not need all of that exposition, but okay,” Veronica responded, suddenly feeling awkward. With her neck turning red, she punched Thor’s arm half-heartedly and asked again “So what did you come here for?”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to join me for a bloody nice day down at Hogsmeade. Won’t that be great, mate? A grand, splendid old time, like, innit?”

“I think that’d be quite lovely, my good friend.” Veronica gave a genuine smile. She’d been missing out on quite a lot, with all these stupid tasks and being a school champion and all. She missed the simpler days of vibing in Hogsmeade, a night at the bar, getting some good b*ssy. She missed using men as the accessories that they are. For she would never break up a friendship over a mere man. A woman, yes, she would absolutely destroy that friendship over. But that was beside the point.

“When should we leave?” she asked Thor, glancing back toward her s*x pills. Thor shrugged. “Now, if you want. I can wait out in the common room for you to get dressed and such.” He also glanced towards her s*x pills. “Or we could stay here and not get dressed. Like, do the opposite. Undressed, if you know your antonyms,” he said jokingly.

Veronica crossed her arms. “Yeah, I know what antonyms are. English is my first language, you racist *sshole.”

“Whoa there,” Thor raised his hands and laughed good-naturedly.  “You know I’d beat up racists. For I am an antiracist God. I took Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s mandatory diversity course.”

“K. Anyways, I’m going to get dressed for real now. Get out of my room and I’ll see you soon!”

And so he did. After he left the room, Veronica sifted through her pile of clothes, trying to figure out what to wear on this most important occasion. Why am I stressing so much about what I look like in front of Thor? I’ve literally seen him with his teeth knocked out before from when I punched him too hard. This shouldn’t be this difficult.

But alas, “this difficult” it was. Her orbs finally landed on a beautiful corset top that she forgot she had. The fabric was shimmery and white, and the trim was the most delicate shade of gold. That was the one. That was the centerpiece of her immaculate ’fit. She took it from its hanger and savored her time lacing it on. Veronica felt like a powerful queen.

She met Thor downstairs, and her breath hitched once he turned around to look at her. His gaze darkened, sending sparks down Veronica’s spine. Oh. Oh.

At first, Veronica was concerned that her new fire powers had translated to lightning with her own body, but then she realized the more terrifying truth.

She felt attracted to her best friend.

…

Honeydukes and Madame Puddifoot’s and Tomes and Scrolls -- everything flies by in a blur, too soon for Veronica’s liking. It’s a world away from the life of challenges and strange fire powers and she is ever so grateful, only wishing that there could be more . She also wished that Tomes and Scrolls carried a wider selection of LGBTQ+ smut, but she supposes that was too much to ask for from a store that, up until like this last generation, had hella homophobic owners. :/

Halfway into an argument with one of the workers at Tomes and Scrolls about the popularity of LGBTQ+ storylines (she got hella bad vibes from this guy, who was wearing a backwards baseball cap that told Veronica all she needed to know), Veronica’s stomach growled. Thor glanced at her wordlessly, their shared cue for “dinnertime.” And so they did. At the Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade’s premier dining destination. 

After getting seated at the table and ordering their respective spotted dicks, Thor looked curiously at Veronica. She felt uncomfortable underneath his stare, and tried to will him to stop. “What are you thinking about?” she said, ignoring the sparks that thrilled through her at his penetrating gaze.  

“Soooo… what have you been learning all of this time with DADA Professor Ozai?” Thor inquired. 

Veronica sighed. Why couldn’t the conversation start with that moment in her room with the s*x pills and the very obvious tension? Why the competition, again? “You know,” she said sullenly, and even the arrival of their spotted dicks couldn’t cheer her up. “Just fire power stuff. Big balls. That kind of thing.” She poked her spotted dick with her fork.

Thor frowned. “I know that there’s more to the story than that, Veronica. I know you.” He leaned forward, eyes earnest. Silently Veronica groaned -- she couldn’t refuse him when he looked at her like that. “You don’t have to hold back with me. The pressure must be getting to you -- you’re one of  Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s most important students right now, and all eyes are on you!”

Veronica rolled her eyes, although a slight blush did grace her cheeks at his words. “Yeah, no pressure or anything though.”

Thor smiled knowingly. “I know it must feel scary right now. You just realized you have this… amazing power, and you feel burdened with the responsibility that comes with it.”

His words jolted her out of her thoughts. How could she doubt that he’d know her so well? It had been just her, him and Loki for their entire childhoods, after all. She shouldn’t feel shocked that he knows her like the back of his own hand.

“It does get tough, I guess,” she admitted slowly. “There’s all these expectations, and I want to do my best, but everything’s still so new. And Professor Ozai hasn’t really made it a point to explain how I have these powers, or how they actually work. Just... He says, make big ball of fire, and I make big ball of fire. And everyone else goes ‘Ooooh!’ and that’s that. It’s like I don’t even know myself anymore.”

Thor nodded, understanding. “As a literal God, I sympathize with feeling like you’re only good for your power. It’s been wild, these challenges. Everyone only sees your new powers, but... no one is seeing you . And how powerful of a person you have to be to take on all of that. Like, you’re such a #girlboss.”

“Wow. That exposition really helped me out.” Now that the haze around them had the chance to fade a little, however, Veronica felt the awkwardness building up around them. In an cringeworthy attempt to alleviate this feeling, she reached across the booth to punch Thor on the arm. “Much appreciated, man/bud/friend.”

Thor blinked, and then gently rubbed the spot on his arm where Veronica had committed violence. “Am I really just a man/bud/friend to you? Even after…” He looked down bashfully, as if his plate of spotted dick was suddenly more interesting than before.

He remembered this morning. F*ck. “So, to tell you about my feelings–”

Thor stood up suddenly, drawing the attention of the entire dinner crowd at The Three Broomsticks. “Sh*t, I forgot I have to go play D&D now with Loki. Gotta go now byeeee!”

“Wait, you literally told me yesterday that your character is drunk anyway–” But he had already bolted through the exit doors, leaving Veronica all alone with her unsaid feelings.

As she played with her fork sadly on the plate that had once held spotted dick (before she shoved it in her mouth), Veronica heard a familiar drawl behind her. “So, that was embarrassing. Your date just ditched you like that in the middle of a lovely dinner?”

Between her unresolved sexual tension, stress about her powers, and frustration at Thor for choosing to play a drunk D&D character over hearing her own feelings, Veronica couldn’t help but snap.  “Eat a hand grenade, Little B*tch Weasel,” she said tersely. “You got a successful date of your own yet or is that too difficult for your Little B*tch Weasel self to conjure up?”

Draco’s voice suddenly turned serious. “Well,” he said, smirking slowly, “ this can be a successful date. If you want, that is.” 

What?!

She looked up incredulously at his face, just in time to see him hold his hand out in anticipation of her own. His smirk put on the face of bravado, but she could see that he was nervous underneath it all. His eyes were shifting from side to side, and sweat creeped up on his brow.  

“Well…” Well, my best friend and maybe sort of crush just went and disappeared on me, so honestly? “Why the f*ck not,” Veronica said, throwing all caution to the wind. Draco’s grin widened. 

“Excellent, Sudarso. I have just the plan.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Content warning: This chapter is rated M. No minors allowed . If you want you can skip it. There is no plot. Just smut. ;)

Draco’s plan, apparently, was to get absolutely sh*tfaced at Hogsmeade’s premiere English pub: Hog’s Head. And Veronica couldn’t exactly say she protested. Multiple shots of tequila, whiskey, and various other questionable liquids later, she was pleasantly surprised at the fact that she and Little B*tch Weasel hadn’t ripped each others’ throats out in a drunken stupor yet. Indeed, she found that she was…enjoying herself?

There was no shortage of other clearly horny attendees in the pub crowd, and as the evening progressed Veronica could feel her brain being completely overtaken by the fact that she now did have her s*x pills back and, well -- Little B*tch Weasel wasn’t so awful to look at, here in the flashing lights and bumping music.

“So, Malfoy,” Veronica said right after she asked the bartender for another round, “I have to ask -- why did you ask to take me out? Not that I’m not enjoying myself; I was just wondering since you kind of had impeccable timing and all, showing up right when Thor ditched me and all that.”

Draco grinned sheepishly, catching Veronica off guard, and raised his arm to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, not to sound like a creep or anything, but I was totally just watching you two in a jealous stupor and when that Asgardian fool left you all alone, I figured, why not shoot my shot?” He gave Veronica awkward finger guns as he said this last part of the sentence, and to her astonishment Veronica found the whole exchange... oddly endearing.

“I mean, I know I should say jealousy is like #toxicmasculinity and all that jazz, but that’s actually kind of hot.” She watched as Draco beamed at her words.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m not usually one to confront anyone when I feel things like jealousy. I have too much bottom energy for that.”

“What do you mean?!” The pair heard a sudden, booming voice coming from behind them. “Jealousy is how you show you care!” Upon turning around, Veronica scoffed. This short little guy? He may be short, but is he a king? With the blonde spiky hair that looks like he ran out of conditioner? Draco, whose honor could never go undefended, immediately had to act on this attack of his character from his enemy (apparently named Bakugou). 

One short fistfight later, Draco emerged victorious, Veronica’s drink in his hand. “Now where were we?”

Veronica’s orbs widened to the size of dinner plates when she recalled where their conversation had left off. A bottom? In this economy? She never thought she’d see the day. 

“Anyways. I have to say, Little B*tch Weasel, I’m surprised you so openly admitted to having bottom energy considering you try to project an aura of cockiness and snobbiness.”

“Well, if we must discuss my cock,” Draco said, smirking, “we might need to find somewhere a bit more... private.”

Veronica smirked back, downing the rest of her drink. “Bet?”

This time, it was Draco’s orbs that widened to the size of dinner plates. “I don’t have protection.”

Veronica smiled. “That’s fine. I’m on s*x pills.”

“Word up. Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, Veronica roughly grabbed Draco’s wrist, dragging him into the large family bathroom at Hogsmeade’s premiere pub: Hog’s Head. 

Immediately, Veronica roughly shoved Draco against the walls of the bathroom. She kissed him roughly, her tongue demanding entry into his mouth. He returned the kiss eagerly, making a noise of surprise, before flipping them around and pressing her back against the cold wall instead.

But Veronica wasn’t discouraged, burying her hands into Draco’s fine pale hair and yanking without warning. The noise of surprise comes out of his mouth again, almost against his will -- and it makes Veronica pull back, grinning smugly. “What did you say about being a bottom again?”

“I told you the truth, didn’t I,” Draco said, gasping for breath. “Have your way with me, Sudarso.”

That phrase sent a thrill shooting throughout Veronica’s p*ssy. “Let’s get this shirt off of you then, Little B*tch Weasel.”

She started off slowly and sensually taking off the buttons of his shirt, one by one, Draco watching her slack-jawed and dark-eyed. But her infamous impatience soon began to take over, and by the end of the trail, Veronica found herself yanking the buttons off of his top just to get a chance to scrape his chiseled chest.

Once the shirt was off, Veronica wasted no time and dragged her tongue up Draco’s six-pack. He shivered intensely, closing his eyes and clutching Veronica at her sides.

“Put me up there,” Veronica ordered, her voice low and needing. Draco lifted her up effortlessly, and carried her to the countertop so that she was now at eye level. 

Draco kissed her mouth roughly before pulling away with a smirk. “I think we’re a little uneven right now, wouldn’t you say?” He made a motion to unlace her corset top from her body, and she gladly complied. Merlin, he was good with his fingers. Once off, Draco’s mouth eagerly found her nipples, and she moaned in a hazy pleasure.

“I think,” Veronica managed between gasps, “we’re still -- a little uneven here, actually.”

Draco pulled away and regarded her, eyelids hooded. “I’m all yours, Sudarso.”

Satisfied with his answer, Veronica threaded her fingers through his hair again and yanked him close. “Get your tie from off your shirt,” she said slowly, lips brushing his ear. “And put it over your eyes.” 

Truly, it was surprising how much of a bottom Little B*tch Weasel was, under all his bravado. Wordlessly he slipped from her grasp and did as she asked as Veronica watched closely from her perch. When the tie was secure over his face, he reached out for Veronica and she reeled him in. “How do you want me?”

“Get on the floor, right now.” Veronica said. Draco left his place standing between her thighs and felt for the floor, lying down on his stomach. Once he was beneath her (as he should be, Veronica privately thought), she positioned him and took her place, facing away from Draco with her legs hooked underneath his. She flipped his body over, feeling pride at the surprised gasp he let out of his mouth. She was now on top of him, straddling his hips.

She unzipped his jeans and dragged them down his legs. Immediately, she was met with the sight of the tent he had pitched in his undergarments.

“Whoa,” Veronica said in awe. “More like Big B*tch Weasel.” 

“Merci beaucoup,” Draco said. “Now ma’am, may I please get inside you?”

“Why did you just randomly start speaking French?” 

“I just do that when I’m nervous sometimes. Now, I don’t wanna get TMI, but I’m literally about to combust and I would like you to sheath my sword, please.”

And so she did. She and Malfoy were lost in immediate ecstasy, and lost track of time.

Basking in their post-coitual glow, Draco was still gasping and sweaty underneath Veronica’s body. “Well,” he said. “Ten million points to Gryffindor.”

“And like, a thousand to Slytherin I guess,” responded Veronica.

Draco’s face morphed from outrage to incredulousness to outright amusement. “Only a thousand?” he said, looking so pitiful that Veronica burst into laughter.

And by god , it was raw, and real, and right. 

(...But mostly, it was truly and incredibly raw.)

...

much owed to this meme:

Chapter Text

After a sweaty and heart-racing evening at Hogsmeade’s premiere English pub: Hog’s Head, Veronica and Draco made their way to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Veronica was on cloud nine, her whole body buzzing with the afterimages of what they’d done. The lingering memories of him on her, in her, left her breathless. So raw. So real. So right . 

She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t realize the two of them nearly walked straight into the famous brains of the Golden Trio.

“Blimey, can’t you see we’re walking here?!” Little B*tch Weasel yelled, most b*tchily. Then his alarm warped into a sneer when he saw who it was. “Can’t expect a Mudblood to see that far in front of them after all though, can you?”

Veronica gasped. Hermione seethed, and then proceeded to connect her fist to his b*tchy little weasel face before proceeding down the hallway. If Veronica wasn’t temporarily frozen in shock, she would have joined Granger in her epic show of justified violence.

“YO MALFOY, what the actual f*ck? That was a racial slur, you *sshole,” exclaimed Veronica.

Draco merely shrugged, and replied, “Yeah, obviously. Of course I know that’s a racial slur.” He put his hands on his hips snobbily. “That’s why I said it. Because I am racist. It is in my blood and bones; it descends from the hearts of my ancestors. I am British, after all. And white and light-haired. I look like the poster child for Aryan breeding.”

Veronica also connected her fist to his b*tchy little weasel face. “I can’t believe I had a racist inside me,” she spat at his astonished face. “F*ck you, Little B*tch Weasel. May you never get to bottom with someone as hot as me again. Also, you’re horrible in bed. It’s like you were just flopping down under me or something, pillow princess. F*ck you.”

All of a sudden, Dumbledore appeared from behind a random painting. He shook his head in disapproval, and then looked at Draco. “Bad in bed? That’s not the way of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Minus 500 points from Slytherin. Miss Sudarso, you managed to have your way with him (with consent of course)? Most excellent. 500 points to Gryffindor for excellent topping.”

With her curse cast, Veronica stormed away. She needed to have a conversation with a certain friend of hers, and especially after recent events, she needed comfort.

...

The Gryffindor common room was still empty for the weekend, with most students still in Hogsmeade. She raced up the stairs leading up to the boys’ dormitory. Loki was the only one there, wrapping up some assignment Veronica had long forgotten about on a piece of parchment.

“Loki! Have you seen your brother? I really need to speak with him,” Veronica asked, still gasping for air.

Loki glanced up, a bored expression on his face. “Haven’t you heard? My bro totally got kidnapped just a little while ago.”

“What in the bloody hell is this?” Veronica said. “Are you mental? That’s absolutely bonkers!” 

Loki looked calm as ever as he shrugged. “It’s true. I saw it myself — DADA Professor Ozai put a bag over his head and haul him off in some magical looking portal. It was wicked! Anyways, I have to get back to writing my assignment now, so if you could leave, that would be great.”

Veronica scoffed at how apathetic Loki appeared to the literal kidnapping and disappearance of his literal brother. “DADA Professor Ozai? What would he want with Thor?”

Loki didn’t glance up from his parchment, and in a huff, Veronica stormed away. Time to find some answers on her own.

...

Following her instincts, Veronica made her way to the Astronomy tower as fast as she could. Professor Trelawney was there as she’d hoped, her eyes wide as she bent over the giant crystal ball seated in the center of the room. 

“Hello there, Miss Sudarso,” she said. “How can I help you? It’s not my office hours right now, so I’m not getting paid for this. Just so you know. No pressure.”

“Good evening, Professor Trelawney. I was wondering if you could help me find a friend.”

Professor Trelawney sat up slightly, but her eyes never moved from the crystal ball. “K.”

Veronica blinked. That was fast. “Really? Just like that?”

Professor Trelawney shrugged. “The professors have been getting instructions from Headmaster Dumbledore to take more of an interest in students’ love lives, so yes, I will help you locate your ‘friend,’ with no problem, Miss Sudarso.”

With a gesture of her hands and a low, murmured incantation, Professor Trelawney began to summon images from the crystal ball. She stared very intensely at the ball, as if the large, hard, colorful ball consumed her very soul at the moment. Veronica could understand that feeling. She knew what it was like to be mesmerized by alluring and inviting balls.

“Your ‘friend,’ Miss Sudarso, is in some kind of igloo,” Professor Trelawney said, puzzling over the image. “Somehow there is fire, but the ice doesn’t melt. And it seems cold. Very, very cold. You should go there as quickly as you can; your ‘friend’ has been frozen into an ice block.”

Veronica felt frustrated. Not only because she did not have an updated, cute winter wardrobe, but also because she still had no idea where Thor was. 

“Is there anything else you can tell me about what you see? Something that can show me more specifically where he’s located?”

Professor Trelawney smiled warmly. “Of course, you only had to ask. He’s located exactly at 44.6923° N, 62.6572° W. Have fun!”

And so she did.

Chapter Text

Veronica felt the whooshing of air around her as she traveled through Professor Trelawney’s Portkey. She landed on cold, soft ground with a thump, looking down to see a wide blanket of snow beneath her feet. Snow blew in her face, and she squinted to see the large dome igloo that stood before her, in all of its glory.

Instantly she knew this was the igloo Professor Trelawney had mentioned. Thor must be inside. She raced towards the archway that led into the heart of the igloo. There was no time for hesitation. Her best friend’s life was at stake. More importantly, her s*x life was at stake.

Veronica ran  frantically, fueled by the knowledge that Thor was just a few yards ago. She managed to find the entrance to the igloo after a quick lap around the dome of ice, and did her best to make her way down the steps without slipping and making a fool of herself. As she made her way into the actual igloo, she realized she could hear the sound of fire crackling -- but none of the ice showed any sign of melting.

Aside from this odd occurrence, two other things caught Veronica’s eye: the giant Canadian flag flying in the corner of this large igloo, and Thor, trapped inside a giant block of ice on her left side. Veronica sprinted to him without a second thought, pounding on the ice with futile cries of her maybe-more-than-friend’s name.

“Welcome, Veronica,” said an ominous voice behind her. She whirled around, coming face to face with DADA Professor Ozai. “You came here faster than I expected. Good girl.” His tone made her blood go cold.

“You,” she said in a low tone. Her body was shaking, though whether that was due to shivering or to the complete fury that filled her body at that moment, she didn’t know. “What do you want with Thor? Why are you doing this? Release him at once!”

Ozai didn’t even hesitate. “Naur.”

“Ohr naur you dorn’t,” Veronica said indignantly. Two could play at this game; she’d been practicing her Australian accent ever since she became friends with Thor. Also, it helped that she had an obsession with the show H2O: Just Add Water as a child. 

“But I can show you how to become more powerful than you’ve ever imagined,” Ozai said, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “You, after all, are one of my children. And I expect that any child of mine commands not only fire, but...” His eyes glinted, crackling with the fire that burned inside the igloo. “But also, lightning.” He raised both his hands and even his tail in a grand momentous stance, watching Veronica expectedly.

“Yeah yeah, lightning, whatever. But I’m gonna need you to backtrack a bit there. You f*cked my mom?”

“Yes, that’s right. I f*cked your mom. I got in her bed – nice Bakugou sheets by the way – and then banged her raw (with consent of course).” Ozai scowled. “Can we get back to your powers now?”

“Naur, you literally f*cked me mum!” Veronica said, whipping out an Irish accent she didn’t know she had.

“OKAY, for Godric’s sake, I’m sorry, okay! If it helps, she saw my tail and immediately began to regret life. But for realsies, can we like, focus on the fact that you need to be able to shoot lightning? To not disgrace my legacy, like my useless son Lebron?”

“...Fine. We’ll get back to the fact that Lebron James is my brother later. What does any of this have to do with my powers? What does that have to do with Thor?”

Ozai hissed like a cornered cat. “He is your weakness ,” he snarled. “Trust me, my daughter, you don’t want losers dragging down your orbit. As long as your heart is not fully invested in your own power, you will never be able to realize your true potential.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Ohr my Gourdric, you believe in that old bullsh*t?” She stormed over to Ozai and crossed her arms defiantly, glaring at him. “Listen. Thor isn’t my weakness , he’s my strength . He’s the one who’s always stood by me, even when my powers were something that freaked everyone else out. But where were you? Why weren’t you there to show me how to use my powers, why weren’t you there for me like a father ?!”

Her last word hangs in the air between them. Ozai was silent, his expression drawn and dark. “You will do as I say,” he said, slowly and deliberately, “if you know what’s good for you.”

Veronica shrugged and uncrossed her arms, shaking them out to loosen the tenseness that had built up in her shoulders. “Does it even really matter? Because based on that family tree I spotted over there –” she gestured towards a shadowed wall of the igloo – “the reason you’re so desperate to keep me around isn’t to help me. It’s because literally all your kids cut you off, you loser deadbeat of a father!” And with that, she raised her hand to strike Ozai’s face with all the force of the betrayal she’d felt for the last few months, and the blow echoed through the icy silence.

“So like, we’re gonna go home now,” Veronica said, walking back to Thor’s side. “Accio Portkey!”

“NAAAUUURRRR,” Ozai bellowed, reaching for the Portkey that just zipped into Veronica’s hands. She smirked at Ozai, put her other hand on the block of ice that held Thor, and felt her body whistling away. 

Soon, Veronica once again felt her body fall on the ground upon landing. She sat up, and then looked to her side to see the large block of ice that contained her soulmate. Or rather, she saw remnants of the large block. For the sheer force of impact on the grounds at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was enough to shatter it into pieces, releasing Thor from his frozen prison.

Veronica felt tears well in her eyes as Thor carefully lifted himself from the ground. As she moved to wipe the snowflakes off from his shirt, she found that she could no longer contain the flood of emotions she felt upon seeing that he was okay. She raced towards him, enveloping him in a hug that could only be described as home. It felt raw, and real, and right. For real this time.

“Hey, Verornica,” Thor said with a smile, as his bulging arms hugged her back. “What the f*ck just happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You totally didn’t just get kidnapped to Nova Scotia by our professor.”

“Good, because I dorn’t have a passport, so that would be illegal.” Thor let go of her, looking slightly awkward. “So uh... did yor have a good night at Hogsmeade’s Premiere Pub: Horg’s Head? And how did yor find moi?”

Veronica sighed. “Never mind that night, Thor. I just confirmed that Draco was indeed a B*tch Weasel. Although not a little one, if you know what I mean. Which makes sense, I suppose. Dumbledore wouldn’t let him pass Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s mandatory penis inspection if he wasn’t hung and girthy, you know?”

Thor nodded in approval. “Yes, I am well awaaaiii.” Then he held his hand out to Veronica, looking somewhat apologetic. “I believe we have a conversation overdue?”

Veronica took it with a grin. “I believe so too. Shall we converse?”

And so they did.

Chapter Text

The third task was upon the champions, an unwelcome event in the midst of already potent teenage angst. Veronica paced anxiously, and she looked up to see Harry biting his nails and Edwards giving a brooding look off to the sky.

“Greetings, children!” Dumbledore said cheerfully, clapping his hands together in a manner completely unbefitting of the gloom and doom of the general vibe. “Welcome to your third and final task. Before us stands a labyrinth maze, and in the center lies your goal: the Triwizard Cup, and probably some cash money, IDK. But beware! The maze is full of danger and despair. It is your task to outwit, outrun, and outdo both your fellow champions... and whatever sh*t the profs dragged into that thing. IDK. Again.” 

“What kind of danger?” asked Harry.

“What a smart question! But because I don’t want to answer it, seven hundred points from Gryffindor.” said Dumbledore. Veronica glowered at Harry at this loss.

“Aw, goshdarnit! Hornswaggle my goats knees!” Harry said in chagrin.

“Y’all can exit the tent now,” Dumbledore said. And so they did.

Upon exiting the tent, Veronica’s gaze shifted through the thousands of people who came to witness this historic event in the stands of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her eyes latched onto the comforting, Australian orbs of her now-newly-minted boyfriend, Thor Odinson. What she also noticed, however, was the absence of a mop of racist platinum blonde hair. 

But before she could dwell on this fact, a gunshot ripped through the air at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as though lifted straight from the start of the AAASS.  (A/N: If you need to understand the reference, enlighten yourself and read the other fics in this universe. Peasant.) Without a moment to lose, all of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s champions sprinted into the maze.

Veronica was met by sudden silence, the cries of her fellow students stopping immediately upon her entering the maze. The air around her was dark, and her skin crawled, as if sensing the presence of something sinister within.

The faint tinkling sound of a unicycle and horn drifted towards her in the haze. Veronica’s eyes narrowed, wand held high. It almost sounded like... a child, singing on a bike. Maybe a boggart? She felt the sweat pooling up in her underarms in nervous anticipation of what was to come.

“WHO’S YOUR FRIEND THAT LIKES TO PLAY? BING BONG. BING BONG.” 

Veronica frowned, and then straightened her spine. She was determined to face whatever challenge the professors at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry decided to throw at her, and this purple monstrosity was no different. She shouted “ Expelliarmus !”

Immediately, she heard the sound of a horn deflated and the pained wheeze of the creature before her as he fell off of his singular wheel.

Weird, but okay , Veronica thought as she promptly moved on from the strange being.

She raced forward further into the maze, taking out foe after foe as she surged towards the center. She was so, so close, she could almost taste the victory on her tongue. One final dementor down, and Veronica stumbled into the clearing—

—and almost tripped over Edward’s body, oddly still on the ground below.

“Oh, naur ,” Veronica cried, falling to her knees. She quickly checked for a pulse, before realizing that it wouldn’t tell her anything when she did not find out. For he was a vampire. And vampires have no pulse, obviously.

“No one was supposed to die,” Veronica muttered. “Wasn’t the whole point just to get us as close to death as they could, for entertainment, without actually killing us? Like one step below The Hunger Games? This isn’t very canonical of them, to let him die.”

“See, Veronica,” drawled a voice from the shadows, “ this is the power being from a British racists gives you. I’ll win this challenge and get the Cup, and I didn’t even have to actually compete in it. Just like my ancestors.” Draco stepped out into the moonlight, smug and as Little B*tch Weasel-looking as ever.

“Draco, you absolute coward. What the f*ck. Why would you think stealing my glory would ever make me want to sle*p with you again?” Veronica said angrily.

Draco shrugged, levitating Cullen’s lifeless body into the air like the sicko that he was. “Your father told me that if I took care of the vampire problem here at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, then he’d give me this blessing to be with you. Aren’t you all about family? Don’t you want their approval?”

“But he’s not my family!” Veronica said indignantly. “I literally just learned that he f*cked my mom a week ago. I couldn’t give two figs about what he thinks of my significant others!”

“That’s disappointing to hear,” said a third voice from behind Draco. Veronica stared as Ozai himself emerged from the darkness, clapping Draco on the back. “Well done, fellow colonizer. The blood of your ancestors does indeed run strongly in you.” He leveled his gaze towards Veronica, hand extended. “My child. This is your last chance: you can join me, and become a weapon of mass destruction like your prodigy sister, Azula... or, you can perish here, lost to history, and with nothing to your name but being a Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry champion who didn’t even win.”

“Hm, what a difficult choice. Become a war criminal, or die honorably. I’m going to make a pros and cons list. Wonder what that could mean for me.” Veronica’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Sad, but expected,” Ozai said, frowning. “Your mother, too, was disappointing, failing to embrace my whole self for what I am. As if a tail was such an offense to the world.”

“Okay, but it kind of is,” Veronica shrugged.

“That’s offensive to the furry community, Veronica,” Ozai said, frowning. “I didn’t think you were a bigot.”

“You’re literally trying to commit genocide ,” Veronica said, waving her arms in emphasis.

It was Ozai’s turn to shrug. “If you say so.” His eyes narrowed as he shifted his stance, and Veronica raised her wand instinctively. “Now, it’s your turn to be genocided.”

And with a single fluid motion, lightning crackled from his fingertips, hurtling toward Veronica in a deadly arc. On pure instinct and with months of training under her belt, Veronica mirrored the movement. She felt the bolt enter her fingertips, and the subsequent feeling of pure energy coursing through her body felt raw and real and right. She was in control here. This was her power.

And it was going to be her b*tch.

A buzz of energy filled the air. A scream — she couldn’t tell from who. And then the air cleared, and Veronica was still standing. But Ozai was not. For he was dead. She had fried her father. 

She heard the clatter of a wand being thrown aside as Draco held his hands up, orbs wider than the moon above them. “Veronica, I’m sorry,” Draco begged. “I’ll end my racist ways, I’ll change for you. Please, give me a chance!”

“Sorry, Draco, but I’ve learned that sometimes, when it comes to men, I can’t fix them. This doesn’t change the fact that you have racism in your blood and bones, as you so eloquently told me before. Also, you literally just committed murder. Sooooo…. leave please.”

“No, no no,” Draco said frantically, clutching his head in his hands.

“Anyways, I believe in capital punishment. Soooo…”

Veronica breathed in, concentrating fully on the power within her. She felt the heat growing inside of her, and the sparks of lightning that began to crackle at her fingers. As it grew, she looked up, a sinister look in her expression. She cherished the look of visceral fear that poured out of Draco’s orbs, down to the very moment she aimed her lightning bolt at his heart.

“Get genocided, colonizer,” Veronica said, deathly quiet.

And so she did.

...

The actual victory was a blur. Veronica retrieved the Triwizard Cup and hauled it back to the stands, met with a tsunami of cheers from her friends and peers. She watched, almost numb, as Dumbledore and the other officials recovered Cullen’s sparkling body and confirmed he was indeed dead, along with Ozai and Draco’s charred remains that nobody mourned. For they were racist. She was only snapped out of her stupor when Dumbledore awarded Hufflepuff ten thousand points for the loss of their champion, an absolutely bonkers move that somehow worked and had everyone immediately forgetting that this was literally a dead student. But such was life at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The house points mattered most, in the end. And did the Hufflepuffs quickly forget about the demise of their own and run off to celebrate their House Cup victory.

“Hey, Sudar-sor,” a familiar voice called out to Veronica over the din as students made their way back to the castle. “I’m really proud of how yor handled yourself back thaaiii.”

“Thanks, Thor,” Veronica said, with a genuine smile. “I’m just glad to be free of a genocidal father and a racist love interest.” Less than an hour ago, she’d killed her own father in cold blood — and a literal student at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But that was all behind them now, wasn’t it? 

“Soooorrr,” Thor said. “Now that yor have your s*x pills back, and Dracor isn’t around, want to have a root?”

And so they did (it)... and it was raw, and real, and oh so right.