Supernatural One Shots

Hogwarts (michifer)

It's exactly what the title says.

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Michael was running away. Well, he wasn't exactly running away from anything, but he was running as far as he could from anyone.

It was growing closer and he hated it, the way it made him act. In only a week he'd have to wake up again in the infirmary, covered in bandages and wishing he had friends to tell him it was gonna be okay. But he didn't have friends, so he resolved to suffer it all alone. Six year and he still didn't have any friends, what a pathetic Gryffindor he was.

He was just tired of all if it. Tired of the weird looks his bandages got him, tired of the way the professors looked at him like he was some kind of wounded animal, he hated it. He was tired of keeping it all bottled up and hidden from everyone. So that day he went to his usual corner of Hogwarts, that corner where no one ever went, with the intention of finally letting it out, letting everything out, all that had been accumulating inside him since the very beginning.

But when he arrived to his corner there was already someone there. And a Slytherin nonetheless. So Michael turned around. He would never cry in front of a Slytherin.

"Wait," he heard as he was about to turn the corner.

He stopped for a fraction of seconds, then continued. He wouldn't obey to a Slytherin. A fox ran passed him, placing itself in front of him. Then, to his surprise, it transformed back into the very same guy.

"What-"

"I told you to wait," the animagus said, but strangely there wasn't any anger in his voice, or even a Slytherin vibe in general, it was just kind and... shy? "I wanted to talk to you." The guy then walked passed him and back to the hiding spot, inviting Michael to do the same.

Intrigued by his unusual comportement, Michael followed him and sat next to him, though he kept a good distance, the tears in his eyes long forgotten in favour of a suspicious look.

The Slytherin sighed. "I know you, Michael Cohen. You've been acting weird since first year and I wanted to know why. It's obvious really, I looked at the moon at one of your monthly disappearance and it all fell into place."

"Who are you?" Michael asked, suddenly defensive of how the guy knew his most well hidden secret.

"Name's Lucifer Novak, nice to meet you too," the guy- Lucifer said, with the kind of lazy attitude Michael hated so much.

"Why would it be nice to meet you?" Michael spat between his teeth.

"Oh, right, 'cause I'm in that house that everyone hates. Look," Lucifer sighed, "I'm a Slytherin. Ooh, now I'm a bad person and everyone loathes me! Honestly I hate this so much, like, can't I be a cunning and ambitious leader without being a dick to everyone? Apparently not. I am cunning, I'm ambitious, yes, but to the point where I'm despicable? no. But since I'm a Slytherin, I must be, aren't I? That's just how Slytherins are."

Michael went to say something but Lucifer gave him no time to. "You know, you'd think that all Slytherins are equal, right? Wrong. I'm getting bullied by my own house. This pureblood system is sick. But what can I do with it, I'm just a mudblood.

"Yeah, right, a mudblood Slytherin, how much of a disgrace is that? You know what, I don't even give a fuck. I'm a Slytherin mudblood, you're a werewolf, we're both alone and we have no friends.

"That's just the way it is. Sometimes, sometimes I wish I'd all be over. I wish they'd all die. I wish- but I can't, because there's a spell for everything, so you can't use a razor to shave, or have a pointy thing in general. Life sucks, man, but that's just the way it is.

"You think you have it bad, ooh, poor little werewolf? Try getting hit until you can't move by people of your own house, then wishing you'd never heal at all because it only means that it'll start again.

"Try being insulted the second you step into your common room, try having your secret yelled at the top of someone's lungs for everyone to hear. Try being constantly reminded how much of a disgrace to your house you are, how you're a worthless piece of shit, try being told that you'd better be off dead perfectly knowing it's true."

Michael was rendered speechless my Lucifer's monologue. Not only did the guy expose his life to Michael, used the word mudblood like it was commonly used to describe people, told him what was probably one of his biggest secrets and basically said that he hurt himself, not to mention bluntly addef that he wanted to die like it was just a daily occurence.

"So now you have it. Do what you want with it, Michael Cohen, because there's nothing I can do anymore. I just told my whole life to a stranger. And you know what? Honestly, I'm past the point of caring."

Michael didn't know what to say, so he just sat a little closer, trying not to make it evident that all his beliefs had just been crushed. His mind was spinning helplessly in hope to find something to say. And finally, he found the most basic words to say: "I'm sorry," keeping his head low in shame of having nothing else to say.

But the sincerity of those three words, the truly sorry voice in which he said it made Lucifer wish he hadn't talked all, because that 'I'm sorry' made him regret the fact that every word of it was so painfully true.

Lucifer sighed, again. "It's not your fault. No one knows what ut's really like in there. It's almost Game of Thrones as much as everyone fights with each other."

"Almost what?" Michael, being a pure-blood, didn't know about that.

"Everyone created alliances and then stabs their allies in the back, it's all treason and lies."

"Oh."

They stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, both minds racing.

Michael was re-thinking on what Lucifer had said, his own worries completely forgotten. It hit him so deep, the nonchalantly with which Lucifer had said it, like it was nothing, like it was totally normal to talk about his life to a stranger.

Lucifer's brain, him was focusing on the fact that Michael was beside him, that Michael was truly sorry for him. But most importantly, that his crush since third year was sitting next to him, acknowledging his existence and not being hateful.

I guess I'm in a Harry Potter mood these days, I'm reading a Wolfstar fic and I'm on it since a week because that damn thing reads like Victor Hugo. Seriously, that book has more that 100k words!