#*gestures aggressively at fred*

[httpvomitello]

fred weasley x y/n

Enemies to lovers trope but she uses George to get Fred jealous and it worked but make it seem that George doesn't like y/n too but agrees to do it thanks !!

Oooh, that's evil... And i loved 😈. Hope you like it ~ ♡

Red-Handed *⁠.⁠✧

Summary: You and Fred Weasley have never gotten along. Ever. You’re convinced he exists solely to annoy you, and he’s convinced you’re the most frustrating person alive. But when you start spending more time with George, something shifts. Fred is acting differently—more irritable, more possessive, more… jealous. And that’s exactly what you wanted. The only problem? You might have underestimated how far you’d go to get his attention.

fred weasley x f!reader

Fred Weasley had a way of getting under your skin.

Maybe it was his constant teasing. Maybe it was the way he always had a smirk on his face when you were annoyed. Or maybe—just maybe—it was because he knew exactly how to push your buttons.

Whatever the reason, your rivalry with Fred was legendary at Hogwarts.

“You do know there’s an easier way to mix that, right?” His voice came from behind you as you stirred your potion in class, his tone dripping with amusement.

You gritted your teeth but didn’t look at him. “And you do know there’s an easier way to shut up, right?”

George, sitting beside him, stifled a laugh. Fred, however, only grinned wider. “Feisty today, aren’t we?”

You ignored him. You always ignored him. But that didn’t stop him from continuing his endless torment.

Until one day—you got an idea.

A stupid idea.

An idea that was destined to go horribly wrong.

You were going to make Fred Weasley jealous.

And George? He was going to help.

"Are you mental?" George asked, arms crossed as he stared at you.

"A little," you admitted. "But mostly determined."

He sighed, rubbing his face. "You do realize that messing with Fred’s head is like poking a sleeping dragon, right?"

You smirked. "Good. I hope he burns."

George gave you a long, calculating look before shaking his head. "Alright, fine. But I’m not actually interested in you. You get that, right?"

"Crystal clear."

"And when this backfires spectacularly?"

You shrugged. "We’ll deal with that later."

He sighed. "Merlin help us."

It started small.

A lingering touch on George’s arm. Sitting closer to him during meals. Laughing at his jokes just a little too hard.

Fred noticed almost immediately.

His usual teasing became more aggressive. His jokes at your expense were sharper. His glances toward you and George lingered longer.

One afternoon, as you and George sat in the common room, Fred plopped down beside you, eyes narrowed.

"What’s this, then?" he asked, gesturing between you two.

George leaned back lazily, playing along perfectly. "What’s it look like, dear brother?"

Fred’s jaw twitched. "Looks like someone’s lost their bloody mind."

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "Why do you care, Weasley?"

His mouth opened, then shut. For the first time ever, he seemed… lost for words.

Oh, this was too fun.

The next few days were even better.

Fred was spiraling.

He was glaring at George constantly. He was snappier than usual, even with his own twin. And—most interesting of all—he had stopped teasing you entirely.

But the real victory came one evening at the Gryffindor common room.

You and George were sitting close—too close. Fred, across from you, was gripping his quill so hard it looked like it might snap.

"So, Y/N," George said loudly, nudging you. "Tell me again how brilliant I am at Quidditch?"

You smiled. "Oh, you mean how you’re the best Chaser on the team?"

Fred’s quill did snap.

That was when you knew you had won.

The next day, Fred cornered you outside the library.

"What the hell are you doing?"

You blinked up at him innocently. "What am I doing?"

"With George," he snapped, stepping closer. "Since when are you two so—" He gestured vaguely, as if the idea physically pained him.

You smirked. "Does it bother you, Freddie?"

His jaw clenched.

"You know what?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. If you want to waste your time with him—"

"George is a great guy," you interrupted, tilting your head. "Better company than you, at least."

His eyes darkened. "Bullshit."

You raised a brow. "Oh? Care to elaborate?"

His chest rose and fell, hands clenched into fists. Then, before you could process it, his hands were in your hair, and his lips crashed against yours.

Hard.

Possessive.

Like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

You barely had time to react before he pulled away, breathing heavily.

"Happy now?" he muttered.

You stared at him, heart pounding. "Not even close."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Good."

And then he kissed you again.

Fred Weasley was an idiot.

A complete, bloody idiot.

Not only had he kissed you, but he had kissed you in a jealous rage, right after you had spent days parading around with George. He had played right into your hands, and now he was completely at your mercy.

And you knew it.

Which was why, the next morning at breakfast, you sat across from him with the smuggest look on your face, twirling a piece of toast between your fingers like you owned the world.

"Good morning, Freddie," you said sweetly.

Fred gritted his teeth, stabbing at his eggs with unnecessary force. "Don’t call me that."

"Why not?" you mused, resting your chin on your hand. "You seemed to like it last night."

George snorted into his pumpkin juice.

Fred shot him a glare.

"You know," George said, wiping his mouth, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up over a girl before, Fred."

"I’m not worked up," Fred said immediately, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

You leaned forward, lowering your voice just enough for only him to hear. "Then why do you look like you’re about to explode?"

Fred choked.

George howled with laughter, clapping him on the back while you simply sat back, smug as ever.

Fred avoided you for two whole days.

Which, honestly? Was hilarious.

The same Fred Weasley who lived to irritate you, who thrived off your annoyance, was now too much of a coward to even look at you.

So, naturally, you decided to make things worse.

"George," you sighed dramatically in the common room that evening, stretching your legs across his lap. "Do you think I could ever find a decent man at Hogwarts?"

George, playing along perfectly, hummed in thought. "Hmm. Tough question."

Fred, who was sitting nearby but definitely pretending not to listen, stiffened.

"You know," you continued, tapping a finger to your chin, "I did hear that Cormac McLaggen is interested—"

Fred’s head snapped up so fast you thought he might get whiplash.

"Absolutely not," he said immediately.

You blinked innocently. "Excuse me?"

Fred scowled. "McLaggen? That arrogant twat? You could do better."

You smirked. "Oh? And who exactly do you think is better?"

Fred’s mouth opened. Then shut. His ears turned red.

George bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"That’s what I thought," you said, standing up and dusting off your robes. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to arrange."

Fred stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. "Y/N—"

But you were already gone.

Fred found you before you could even think about talking to McLaggen.

It was late, the castle dimly lit as you walked back. And then, suddenly—

A hand grabbed your wrist, yanking you into a hidden alcove.

You gasped, heart racing. "What the—"

"Enough," Fred growled, pressing you against the wall.

You blinked up at him, a little breathless. "Enough what?"

His jaw was clenched, eyes burning with something fierce. "This. The games. The flirting. The McLaggen nonsense. You’ve made your point, alright?"

You stared at him, expression unreadable. "And what point is that, Fred?"

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "That I—I can’t stand seeing you with someone else."

Your stomach flipped.

Finally.

You tilted your head. "And why is that?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "You know why, Y/N."

You did. You just wanted to hear him say it.

You reached up, brushing your fingers against his cheek. He leaned into the touch—barely, but enough to make your chest tighten.

"Say it, Freddie."

His breathing was uneven. His hands tightened at his sides.

"I like you, alright?" he muttered. "You drive me absolutely mad, but I—I can’t stop thinking about you. And it’s infuriating."

You smiled. "I knew it."

Fred groaned. "Merlin, I hate you—"

And then you pulled him down into a kiss.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, kissing you like he had been holding back for years. It was hot, desperate, needy—and, bloody hell, if you had known it would feel this good, you would’ve done it ages ago.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, Fred rested his forehead against yours, hands still tight around you.

"No more games," he murmured.

You smirked. "No promises."

He groaned. "Merlin help me."

You laughed, pulling him back in.

"Game over, Freddie," you whispered against his lips.

"And guess what?"

Fred smirked. "I think I won."

[princessinprogres]

Sorry, I feel like I’m spam posting but I’m trying to clear out my Notes app because it’s getting ridiculous😭

A little pat on the bum.

George Weasley

It had become a ritual—a subtle but cherished gesture George Weasley had started years ago. Every time he walked past you, no matter where you were or what you were doing, his hand would gently pat your backside. It wasn’t aggressive or crude; it was playful and sweet, a symbol of the comfort and affection you shared. It was George’s way of saying, “I see you, I adore you, and you’re mine.”

And, Merlin, you loved it.

The first time it happened, you’d been browsing the shelves in the backroom of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, inspecting a new product. George had strolled by, grinning cheekily, and the light pat caught you off guard. But instead of being annoyed, you’d burst out laughing at the audacity of it. From then on, it became a habit—a secret little moment of intimacy amidst the chaos of the joke shop or the bustle of your shared life.

But today, something was different.

You were helping to stock new Skiving Snackboxes in the display case when George walked by, carrying a box of Extendable Ears. Your heart fluttered with anticipation—here it came, the light tap that never failed to make you smile. But instead, he breezed past without even sparing you a glance.

Your brow furrowed as you glanced over your shoulder, watching him stride to the counter to help a customer. Did he… forget? No, George never forgot. The thought nagged at you, but you shook it off. He was probably busy. No big deal.

Except it was a big deal.

The day went on, and each time George passed you, he didn’t touch you, didn’t tease you, didn’t even flash his usual mischievous grin. It was like he was… avoiding you. By lunchtime, the pit in your stomach had grown, and a frown settled permanently on your face.

“Alright, what’s wrong with you?” Fred asked, leaning against the counter as you glumly stirred your bowl of soup.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you muttered, though your tone betrayed you.

Fred raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been sulking all morning. Did George prank you and I missed it? Because, honestly, that’d be disappointing.”

“No,” you said, pouting. “He’s just… acting weird.”

Fred’s smirk grew. “Weird how? Did he forget to kiss you goodbye or something?”

You hesitated, your cheeks heating. “He didn’t… you know… do the thing.”

Fred blinked, clearly confused. “What thing?”

You waved your hand, embarrassed. “The thing, Fred. The thing he does when he walks past me.”

Fred’s eyes lit up with understanding, and he let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, you mean the arse-patting! Merlin’s beard, he didn’t do it? That’s serious.”

“It’s not funny!” you snapped, though your cheeks burned with humiliation. “What if he’s mad at me or something?”

Fred sobered slightly, though the amusement didn’t leave his face entirely. “Trust me, George isn’t mad. He’s been in a good mood all day. Maybe he’s just… I dunno, distracted.”

You weren’t convinced, but you nodded anyway. Fred’s reassurance helped a little, but as the day dragged on, the weight of George’s silence grew heavier.

By the time the shop closed, you were downright sulky, slumped on the sofa in the flat above the shop as George counted the day’s earnings. You didn’t even look up when he sat beside you, the cushion sinking under his weight.

“Alright, love, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, his warm brown eyes studying your face. “You’ve been pouting all day.”

“I’m not pouting,” you mumbled, though you very clearly were.

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, tell me. Did Fred say something stupid again?”

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. “You’re mad at me.”

George blinked, taken aback. “What? I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

“Because,” you said, crossing your arms, “you didn’t… you know… touch me today.”

It took a moment for realization to dawn on him, and then he burst out laughing, the sound warm and infectious. “Is that what this is about? You’re upset because I didn’t pat your bum?”

You scowled, your cheeks flushing. “Well, yeah. You always do it, and today you didn’t, and I thought maybe I did something wrong…”

“Oh, love,” he said, his laughter softening into a fond smile. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think that. I was just trying to be professional today, you know? Didn’t want to give the customers a show.”

You huffed, though his explanation made sense. “Well, next time, at least warn me. I thought you hated me or something.”

“Hate you?” George said, his tone incredulous. “Never in a million years. I love you, you daft thing.”

Before you could respond, he leaned over, his hand landing with a familiar, playful pat on your backside. “There. Better?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension melting away. “Better.”

“Good,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “Because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

[steelbluehome]

"Actor Stan . . . does a bang-up job capturing Trump’s verbal cadence and tics, his hand gestures and his smirk, which seemed a lot less obvious in the 1970s and ’80s than they are now."

The Toronto Star (click for article)

‘The Apprentice’: A terrific portrait of the man who made Donald Trump a ‘killer’

Peter Howell

May 20, 2024

The Apprentice

3.5 stars (out of 4)

Starring Sebastian Stan, Jeremy Strong, Maria Bakalova and Martin Donovan. Written by Gabriel Sherman. Directed by Ali Abbasi. Premiering at the Cannes Film Festival. 120 minutes.

“Attack, attack, attack!”

That’s the first rule of success laid down by Roy Cohn, the ruthless New York lawyer who takes a young Donald Trump under his wing in Ali Abassi’s terrific “The Apprentice,” one of two Canadian films that made its world-premiere Monday at the Cannes Film Festival. (The other is David Cronenberg’s “The Shrouds.”)

Cohn’s other two rules for winning are “admit nothing, deny everything” and “claim victory and never admit defeat,” slogans that will resonate for decades to come.

The year is 1973. Listening very closely to Cohn’s cocky mantra is future U.S. president Trump (Sebastian Stan), who is 27 and hungry. He’s trying to establish himself as a player in New York real estate so he can get out from under the shadow of his controlling father, business tycoon Fred Trump (Martin Donovan).

Cohn (Jeremy Strong), who looks like a rattlesnake in a suit, is holding court with his henchmen in New York’s ritzy Le Club, which Trump has just joined. He’s introduced to Trump as the lawyer “who got the Rosenbergs the chair,” a reference to the notorious 1953 spy trial of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg.

This is music to Trump’s ears; the U.S. Justice Department is accusing him of racial discrimination in his housing rental deals and he needs a take-no-prisoners attorney to fight back. Cohn and Trump become fast allies in what Strong has described in interviews as “a love story.”

So begins a film, and a close relationship that continued until Cohn’s death in 1986, which answers a lot of questions about how Trump became the showboating power seeker he’s known as today. He was the eager pupil of a man who believed, to quote yet another of Cohn’s sayings: “You have to be willing to do anything to anyone to win.”

“The Apprentice” marks the second bid for the Palme d’Or by Iranian-Danish filmmaker Abbasi, who in 2022 debuted in the main Cannes competition with the crime thriller “Holy Spider.”

Actor Stan, best known for playing a brainwashed assassin in the Marvel movie “Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” does a bang-up job capturing Trump’s verbal cadence and tics, his hand gestures and his smirk, which seemed a lot less obvious in the 1970s and ’80s than they are now.

His new film, a Canada/Ireland/Denmark co-production shot in Ontario, opens with bold 1970s-style credits and music, and a disclaimer that not everything that follows is based on strict fact. 

The film seems at first to be impressed by Trump and maybe even sympathetic toward him. Mention is made of a New York Times profile that admiringly compares Trump’s tousled hair to that of Robert Redford’s.

Trump has to put up with a lot of verbal abuse from his father, who scorns his son’s plans to build a luxury hotel — which we’ll later know as the landmark Trump Tower — in a dodgy neighbourhood in downtown Manhattan, at a time when New York is on the verge of bankruptcy. 

The tendency is to root for a guy like that, and to cheer him on he meets and aggressively woos his future wife, Ivana (Maria Bakalova of “Borat 2”), a successful model who demands a $100,000 payment before she’ll marry a man she rightly suspects is not to be trusted. 

Cohn, on the other hand, refuses to take money from Trump, saying he values him more as “a friend” — and it’s clear he means the kind of friends that Don Corleone has in “The Godfather.”

It doesn’t take long for Trump’s true colours to emerge as his Faustian deal with Cohn deepens. He begins referring to people as either “killers” or “losers,” and he bullies New York civic leaders to cut him sweetheart tax deals to bankroll his building binge. 

As his confidence builds, so does his swagger and he begins pulling away from Cohn, a closeted gay man who has contracted AIDS (although he denies it), which will ultimately kill him.

Trump also tires of Ivana, cruelly casting her aside following brutal sex that looks anything but consensual on her part.

How much “The Apprentice” is based on strict historical facts is hard to verify.

But none of it is hard to believe — especially a scene near the end where Trump takes credit for the three rules of success quoted above and which he attributes not to Cohn but rather to his own “natural ability.”

[snowwhiteandthesevenpotters]

If Hermione was chosen for the Triwizard Tournament

"So, today´s the day.", said Harry as he sits down at the gryffindor table, where Ron and I were already eating our old meal. Well actually we weren't really eating, I was way too nervous so I was just stiring in it. "Did you read all the stuff that we found out about dragons in the library yesterday?", Harry asked. "Yes I …", but Ron interrupted me:"Of course we did! Every article at least two or three times! Even I remember most of it, so it should´t be a problem for her, right Hermione?" I still could´t believe Ron actually stood up with me the whole night and tried to learn everything imaginable about dragons. I know what he thought about studying. He was one of the things that gave me the strength to do this. "Yes that´s right, but to know about them still doesn't make sure I can defeat them… you know my talent is knowledge, not application." "Yeah but you know every spell you could use, and their weaknesses, come on Hermione, I`m pretty sure you can do it! You´ll show that dragon!", Ron said. "We believe in you.", Harry added.

The way down to the champions tent, we met all the other Hogwarts students. Most of them just tapped me on the shoulder and said things like: "Good luck Hermione!" or "For Hogwarts!" But none of them could make me fell less worried. Fred and George came up to me and George whispered: "We bet five galleons that you catch that egg in less then 10 minuets, don´t let us down!"

After 20 minuets of waiting, Dumbledore came into the tent to give us our dragons. My hand was shaking very bad as I put it into the little bag with the tiny versions of the dragons. I grabbed the first little creature I touched and brought my hand back up: in it was a little curved dragon with dark rough scales, ridges along its back and a tail whipped with an arrow-shaped spike. "Aaah, the Hebridean Black! Home in the Hebrides Islands of scotland.", Dumbledore said. I knew that it was a Hebridean Black from scotland. I read everything about it. I also knew that it has brilliant purple eyes, can grow to be up to thirty feet long and that its favourite food is deer, although it has been known to carry off cows. The good news was, it was one of the smallest dragons that exist, the bad news, the Hebridean Black is more aggressive than any other dragon native to the british Isles. "So, if there aren´t any questions, the first task will begin when you hear the shot of the canon outside the tent, first Durmstrang, then Hogwarts and then the student from Beauxbatons! Good luck everyone!", and then he was gone. "Okay Hermione", I said to myself, "You can do this, just remember a spell that would be perfect for the Hebridean Black …"

After felt minutes it was my turn to go and face my dragon. I didn´t had anything except for my wand. But my hands were so sweaty, that I thought I might drop it. When I stepped into the stadium, everyone, except for the students from the other schools, was cheering my name. I enjoyed it for maybe 10 seconds, before the cheering turned into screaming. First I didn´t realize what was happening, but then I turned around and saw my opponent: It seemed way more than only thirty feet from down here. And if I wouldn't be in this life threatening situation, I would've probably thought this dragon to be the most beautiful one I ever saw. My first thought was: run. But then I noticed the dragon wasn't even looking at me. It probably hand´t even noticed me yet. So my second thought was: hide. I made really slow moves and hide behind a big rock. I knew that dragons have a good sense of smell, so I wouldn't have that much time. I looked up into the crowd of people, hoping to see anything helpful, and I did. There was Ron making wild gestures in my direction with his arms. Then I understood. He wasn't pointing at me, he pointed at the rock behind me: "One of the best ways to fight a dragon, is from a higher position" that stood in one of the articles we read. But what am I going to do once I stand on that rock?! Because of their skin, it´s not clever to us the stunning spell (stupefy). I really couldn´t use the Fiendfyre curse, no, not in this small hall with all the people in it. The only thing I could think of was the conjunctivitis curse, but on the other hand, what would a dragon at this high level of aggression do, once its eyes were irritated?

I couldn´t know. But what else could I do? Nothing. So I just did it. I climbed up the rock, made sure the dragon still didn´t realize someone was in it´s near, and whipped my wand. But to make it a powerful spell, I had to make the dragon look in my direction, to hit it right in it´s eye. I started moving with my arms and screaming: "Hey, dragon! Look at me! I would like to show you something!" Of course it didn´t understand me, but I had to yell something. It slowly turned its head in my direction, and as fast as I could, I screamed: "Conjunctivito!" and made a flick with my wand. Out of it, bursted a really big pink beam of magic, and it hit the dragon right in it´s left eye. First I thought it didn´t work, because the dragon wasn´t moving at all, and I started to panic, but then it let out a really loud and long scream of pain, and its eyes started to turn pink and swell. I knew I had to be quick, bevor it was going to get mad, and maybe destroy the egg, or hurt somebody, especially me. I jumped of the rock and ran to the dragons nest, where I already saw from far behind, the big, golden egg. The Hebridean Black started waving with its big spiky tail and I knew I had to handle quick. But five meters in front of the nest, the dragons tail hit me right against my chest. It threw me ten meters away and I landed on my back. It hurt terribly, I tried to breath but i could´t. i just lay there and gasped for air. I heard all the people scream that I had to get up, but I couldn't. It hurt too bad. I just hoped the dragon would not find me. I closed my eyes and tried to just breath. And after a while my lungs were working again normally. I stood up rally slowly. I was surprised that the dragon hadn't find me yet, and I looked around. The dragon was on the other side of the stadium and was hitting a big tree with it´s tail, and spiting fire on the ground. This was my chance. I ran as fast as I could with my still hurting back, and hoped it didn´t already destroyed the egg. But when I came to the nest, the egg wasn't there anymore. Neither destroyed or whole. I started to look franticly around me. And then I saw it, it was stuck in a tree next to me. I had to climb about two meters to get it. When I held it in my hands, a loud noise from above the stadium rang out, and the crowd went wild.

I don´t know where the dragon went, but I was carried out of the stadium by, I think, two men from the ministry. Back in the tent, the first two people to storm in where Harry and Ron. "I knew you´d show that dragon! You should´ve seen its face when it started hitting that tree! I think the dragon thought it was you …", said Ron. "Dumbledore had to rebuild the protection spell above the seats, because of all the fire the dragon was spitting!", explained Harry.

In that night the whole gryffindor tower, and most of the ravenclaws and hufflepuffs celebrated in the great hall until midnight. Except for me, Harry and Ron. Because of my bag, I had to stay at Madame Pomfrey's. But I couldn't imagine something better than sitting here with my two best friends and croockshanks, eating Bertie Bott's every flavor Beans and talking about what the second task could be.

[fandomficsnstuff]

Witches And Wizards - 30

(Warnings: A bit of angst, some fluff, more fluff and some more fluff! Enjoy!)

Note: I once read parts of a fic where the reader has magic and goes back in time, meeting Merlin. I sadly can’t find it anymore. Also Fred didn’t die in this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four months and none had ever seen her smile the way she did now. At breakfast, lunch, dinner, in class, outside of class, in Hogsmeade, in the castle. It was like she had a permanent grin on her lips, everyone noticed it. She still seemed to be in excruciating pain every day, especially if the weather was cold, but it was like she had a new strength. A new strength that helped her through it. She had seen off the other teachers, and students, not too long ago, leaving her currently in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, her heart racing as she tried to stop the food from burning, using her wand to conjure some water, dropping it onto the flaming food, sighing heavily as she stepped back, hands on her hips as she glared at the food. So much for trying to take up cooking, especially since she had a guest coming over. There was no way she could save those roasted potatoes now… well, desperate times call for desperate measures…

“Kreacher!” 

She called loudly with a hint of panic in her voice, aggressively taking off the apron she had on, draping it over a chair, sitting down in it afterwards as Kreacher appeared, apparating into the kitchen, bowing his head. “Mistress?” he asked, Ophelia gesturing to the smoking roasted potatoes dish with a heavy sigh “I don’t suppose you could save that?” she asked with a wince, Kreacher looking at the dish, hesitating to tell the truth and she sighed again “yeah, thought so…” she muttered, leaning back into the chair “Kreacher, I don’t suppose you could-... cook? I mean, I remember that french onion soup you made when I was a teenager when I lived with my uncle, sooo…” she trailed off, Kreacher snapping his fingers, the disaster that was the roasted potatoes vanished from the kitchen entirely, Kreacher bowing his head respectfully at her “of course, Mistress” he stated and Ophelia grinned “you’re the best. Just enough for two, unless you’d like some too, of course. I won’t mind if you do, it’s up to you” she praised and he smiled, bowing his head again before snapping his fingers, apparating out of sight, probably to get the ingredients needed for the soup. Ophelia sighed heavily, looking up at the clock above the doorway, her eyes widening as she looked down at herself. “Shit” she murmured, getting up, grabbing her cane that she still needed and apparated to her room, giving her wand a flick, her closet opening up, several articles of clothing floating out of the wardrobe and levitating in front of her. She studied the options before waving her wand, the skirt of one floating to hover under another shirt, letting her take in how the set would look, another wave of her wand had the shirt float out of the way, letting another take it’s place.

She sat down on her bed and put her cane aside, clutching her knee in pain, letting out a heavy sigh, eyes closed as she gently massaged her knee, wincing in pain but she continued until it eventually lessened and lessened, becoming barely noticeable and she let out a sigh of relief, the pain was nowhere near gone, but it was lessened. The pain was too much for a simple pain relief charm, but it helped when it became close to unbearable to gently massage it. She took in the options in front of her as she gently massaged her knee, fingers running over the smooth bone underneath the muscles, her eyes settling on a skirt. She hadn’t worn a skirt in so long… too long, perhaps… she gave her wand a flick and the rest of the clothes put themselves back into the closet, the clothes she’d chosen hanging in the air. She couldn’t help but feel a bit… giddy… and anxious. If only she had a Draught of Peace for that anxiety. But she didn’t, and even if she had, she probably wouldn’t have used it. Finally, she stood up with the help of her cane, beginning to get out of the loose pants and sweater she was wearing. It was a dinner date after all… just a date. She was already in a relationship with him, so why was she nervous? She put on the skirt, it reached just at her knees, the skirt loose and flowy, a deep navy blue, fitting to her hips. On top, she wore a white button up, the fabric like silk against her skin and she pulled on thigh high stockings, not feeling like wearing tight pantyhose over her knee, so it was flexible thigh high stockings instead, black flats for shoes, her leg wouldn’t tolerate anything else, shape or not. She waved her wand and her hair braided itself, a braid on each side of her head, tying themselves at the back of her head, letting the rest of her hair loose and free. She was wearing her father’s ring, no earrings or necklace.

She flinched when there was a knock on her bedroom door. “Mistress?” Kreacher’s voice spoke from the other side and she sighed, giving her wand a wave, everything packing itself up and she grabbed her cane to help her stand “yes, Kreacher?” she called, the door opening to reveal the grumpy house-elf, bowing his head deeply in respect for her “there is a-.... guest… at the front door…”

“Is it Merlin?”

“Yes…”

“Then allow him in, please, he’s the guest” she ordered softly with a smile, Kreacher hesitantly nodding, about to leave when she called out “and Kreacher?” he turned around to look at her, Ophelia limping over with the help of her cane, giving him a warm smile before lifting up her skirt just an inch, so he could see all of her left knee and not just the bottom of it, his eyes widening at the… normalcy of it. “That was Merlin… he gave me a new knee. He’s been good to me, for more years than I can remember. I really like him, Kreacher… I do” she told him and he blinked, clearly a bit confused and both skeptical at the healing of her knee when everyone else said it couldn’t be done, and why on earth someone of such high esteem as his Mistress would fancy someone but him, but he bowed his head all the same “of course, Mistress” he apparated out of sight and she let out a deep breath, releasing her cane and apparating into the living room, watching Kreacher approach with Merlin and she smiled at him. Merlin walked over, hands behind his back and she frowned, yet still smiled. “What are you hiding there?” she asked with amusement, her eyes widening when he showed her a small bouquet of daisies and lavender, a single rose in the middle that should stand out, and it did, but it felt just at home all the same. “Lavender and daisies…” she muttered, taking the flowers, leaning her head down, breathing in their flowery scent, smiling in bliss at the scent. “I uh, I know you love lavenders and daisies, and the rose-” he cut himself off as she frowned deeply, leaning down and smelling the flowers again. She had that look on her face. The one that told him she might be remembering some things. So he shut up and prayed to whatever and whoever that it was that exact thing.

“I remember…” she trailed off, one of her hands clutching her head in pain and Merlin gently took the flowers from her “it’s okay, don’t push yourself” he whispered, Ophelia nodding with a frown, sighing heavily, eyes shut tightly “Kreacher, could you put these in water?” Merlin asked, handing the flowers to the house-elf who reluctantly agreed to accept orders from anyone but his Mistress Black, apparating out of sight to put the flowers in water as asked. Merlin turned back to Ophelia, a hand on her upper arm while the other cupped her cheek after gently moving her hand from her head. “It’s okay, you don’t have to remember-”

“Gaius…” she cut him off, opening her eyes to look up at him, her heart racing a little “I wanted to try and see if I still needed my Sleeping Draught and I did… I couldn’t sleep… so I-... thought I’d see if Gaius had some Belladonna and-... he was awake too… you were out with Arthur, but-... there were two men…” she trailed off again and Merlin smiled softly at her “it’s alright, don’t push it” he advised and she nodded, letting out a shaky sigh “and Gwen… Gwen was-... gone, because of Morgana…” she added, Merlin nodding with encouragement and she looked down “I can’t remember anything else…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to” he kissed the top of her head sweetly and she smiled, looking up at him, leaning up and kissing him softly, which he happily reciprocated. Suddenly there was a rushing sound and someone clearing their throat, both of them turning to see Kreacher stand there “the food is ready, Mistress” he bowed his head deeply and Ophelia nodded “thank you, Kreach-... oh shit, I forgot to set the table” she muttered with a wince, closing her eyes in regret as she stepped back, about to hurry to the kitchen when Kreacher spoke up “that is already taken care of, Mistress” he spoke up and she sighed heavily “you’re the best house-elf, Kreacher” she stated with a smile and he bowed his head deeply in thanks. “I think I can take it from here. Thank you so much for your help, Kreacher. You can do whatever you want to relax now” she offered and he bowed his head again, apparating out of sight and without a doubt to the room with the portrait of Ophelia’s paternal grandmother that he loved so much. Ophelia turned to smile at Merlin, a little nervous “so… hungry?” she asked sheepishly and he smiled, walking over to her and into the kitchen, a delicious waft of onion soup filling his nostrils as Ophelia led him to a table which honestly shocked her. The flowers Merlin had brought was in a vase on the table, a candle being lit at the end. Seats were ready, one at the end at the table and one to the right of it, bowls pulled out and honestly, it was rather romantic, Ophelia smiling a little. “Well… seems like Kreacher went all out…” she muttered to herself with a grin, Merlin already pulling out the chair at the head of the table, which Kreacher without a doubt expected her to sit in. Letting a stranger sit at the head of the table while the Mistress of the house sat at the side? Outrageous! Unfathomable! Ridiculous!

“Thank you” she spoke softly as Merlin pushed her chair in after she sat down and instantly the pot with the soup flew over from the stove, placing itself on the table in front of the two of them and Ophelia gestured to it, Merlin nodding and began to take first, Ophelia smiling at him. “I uh… I tried to cook but-... well, the food committed suicide in the oven… I hope you like this. It’s a french onion soup, I always loved it when Kreacher made it while I stayed here with my uncle” she admitted sheepishly and Merlin smiled at her, taking her bowl before she could poured the soup herself, filling her bowl before placing it back in front of her, making her smile “ever the gentleman” she praised quietly, Merlin blushing a little under his stubble. She’d come to like that stubble… it had grown on her, she liked how he kept it short but never shaved it off completely.

She watched as Merlin tasted the soup, hoping and praying he’d like it at the very least, perhaps even love it like she did, and her smile widened when he nodded “it’s really good” he stated before eating more of it, Ophelia almost letting out a sigh of relief as she nodded to herself and began to eat. “Good” she stated with a grin before continuing to eat. “I have a question, if it’s alright…”

“Go ahead.”

“You don’t have to answer, it’s okay if you don’t-”

“Merlin.”

“Right… I just-... who did this house go to, and Kreacher, when your uncle...?”

“Well… I was just fifteen at the time so I couldn’t exactly inherit anything… it went to Bellatrix Lestrange, until I’d turn eighteen, but she changed some of the documents so that even if I turned eighteen, everything would still be hers… but then she died and she didn’t have any children or anyone else so… it fell back to me” she admitted sheepishly, Merlin nodding with a smile “good, being the lady of the house suits you” he stated with a smirk and Ophelia’s cheeks grew beet red and she cleared her throat, quickly resuming her dinner and Merlin smirked even more, enjoying the way he could make her flustered, he had missed it so much over those centuries…

“I was wondering… there was a woman in one of the pictures in my photo album…” she trailed off, a frown on her brows as she tried to remember “she had kind eyes… it was-... outside a village, I think…”

“My mother, Hunith” Merlin stated with a fond smile, Ophelia frowning a little more, her eyes now on him “did-... did I know her?”

“Yes.”

“Did she know about me?”

“She did. She was a muggle, I grew up in a village named Ealdor, in Cendred’s kingdom.”

“Who?”

“A muggle king” he explained with a fond smile and Ophelia nodded “she sent me to Camelot when I was around seventeen. She knew it wasn’t safe for me in Ealdor the more my powers grew, and she knew that Gaius could help me with my powers… I hadn’t planned to show him my magic, not right away, but he fell from a railing just as I walked into his chambers and there was a bed across the room and…” he trailed off with a sheepish wince, making Ophelia chuckled “you summoned the bed” she stated with amusement and Merlin nodded “yeah” he stated with a chuckle. The two of them continued to talk, dinner long since eaten but it didn’t seem like they were aware of it, engrossed in talking with each other about anything and everything, from Ophelia’s missing memory to Hogwarts. The comfortable atmosphere was broken when there was a rush of wind and the sound of someone apparating, both of them turning in the kitchen to see Kreacher, bowing his head deeply at Ophelia “Mistress, I’ve prepared desert” he stated and Merlin could tell by the way that she frowned that it wasn’t planned. “Desert?”

“Yes, Mistress. Sticky Cauldron Cake Pudding with Butterbeer Sauce, your favorite” he bowed his head deeply again and Ophelia looked at Merlin before looking back at the house-elf “thank you, Kreacher, that was very kind of you to prepare that.”

“Of course, Mistress. It will be served in the living room if that suits the Mistress” he bowed his head deeply again and Ophelia looked at Merlin, who gave a small nod and a smile and Ophelia looked back at Kreacher “thank you, Kreacher. I appreciate it” she stated with a smile and Kreacher smiled under his long and crooked nose, bowing his head before snapping his fingers, everything starting to clean itself up and Merlin got out of his chair, pulling out Ophelia’s chair for her before helping her stand, walking to the living room with her and Merlin helped her sit on the sofa, a tray soon floating over with pre-carved pieces of the pudding, Butterbeer sauce dripping deliciously from the top, a fork next to the two plates. Merlin and Ophelia both grabbed the plates and fork and the tray floated to the back to be out of the way, Merlin sitting on the sofa next to her, Ophelia watching him closely as he took the first bite, heart beating in her chest. “It’s really good!” he praised and Ophelia smiled, happy that he liked her favorite dessert. “Good” she stated with a grin and began to eat herself, Kreacher soon appearing from the kitchen “will the Mistress be needing anything else?” he asked and she glanced at Merlin before shaking her head and looking back at him “no, thank you. Thank you for this, Kreacher.”

“Of course” he bowed his head before apparating out of there, no doubt going to the room with the portrait of Mrs. Black. “So, he made desert. Do you think he’s starting to like me?” Merlin asked slightly joking as he ate a piece of the desert, Ophelia chuckling lightly “I hope so. Or he’s playing nice. But I told him what you did for me, for my knee… I bet it helped” she stated with a shrug and a smirk, Merlin blushing a little “it was the least I could do… I’m the one who did it to you, after all” he murmured and Ophelia studied him before sighing, shaking her head as she put her plate and fork down on a small side table, turning to look at Merlin. “I don’t remember what happened but I’ve read your letter… and I know you… you didn’t do this to me, Morgana did. And if the situation was dire enough for me to use an Unforgivable? Then there was nothing you could have done. I don’t blame you. I’m not mad at you. I’m not even sad. I don’t have anything to be sad about. Sure, my leg is killing me but now it looks normal! I can wear clothes that I haven’t worn in years now! Thanks to you. And you help me, every day. You’re there for me, you support me, you make me laugh, you sit with me while I’m in pain, you stay by my side when I can’t sleep… I love you, Merlin… You know that’s not easy for me, and I love you” she admitted, Merlin studying her, a few tears in his eyes and he put his plate and fork on the side table at the other end of the sofa before leaning over, gently holding her face as his lips met hers and she closed her eyes in enjoyment, kissing him back, her hand cupping his that was on her cheek.

Soon the kiss grew heavier and Merlin’s hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, her hand moving to his chest, fisting his shirt, hoping to desperately keep him against her lips for a while longer. Her other hand moved to the back of his head, gently scraping her nails along his skin, gently tugging him closer by the small hairs, his beard scratching her lips and chin but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She couldn’t help but moan quietly as she felt his tongue explore her mouth, her heart racing so fast it was almost like it’d pop out of her chest and run off. She had a smile on her lips when they parted, her eyes still closed and she let out a small hum of contentment. Slowly she opened her eyes, smiling even more when she found that his was still closed and she took the opportunity, leaning into his touch while studying his features. So much was still lost to her… so many memories, conversations, instances… but she’d get them back, and if she couldn’t… at least she could now make some new ones with him.

“When I woke up, the first thing I remembered was this…” she admitted, closing her eyes and sighing softly, leaning her forehead against his, completely wrapped up in her own bliss. “Not the touch but-... the feeling…” she continued, her voice quiet but not meek. “I remembered this-... happy feeling in my stomach, like butterflies but without the flutter…” she added quietly, opening her eyes again to see Merlin looking at her, her smile widening even more. Merlin smiled fondly at her, kissing her softly, first on the nose, then her right cheek, then her forehead and finally, her lips, the kiss sweet and adoring despite how brief it was. “How’s your leg?”

“I don’t give a bloody damn about my leg right now” she admitted with a chuckle, the pain as constant as ever but it didn’t matter, she’d even forgotten about it, for a brief while. “I do” Merlin whispered and she smiled even more, pecking his lips before leaning back, just enough to look at him “it hurts, but it always hurts. You know that” she pointed out and Merlin nodded with a soft smile, his hand cupping her cheek, thumb gently caressing her cheekbone, gliding over the skin in a featherlight touch, yet it felt so heavy, it was intoxicating.

“It’s late…” Merlin began and she nodded, a smile still on her lips “it is” she agreed, none of them even displaying a hint of movement, both of them still in the embrace they had with each other. “You should take your sleeping draught” Merlin finally spoke, Ophelia hummed quietly “maybe… would you leave, if I took it?”

“Do you want me to-?”

“No” she admitted boldly and he smiled “then I won’t” he stated softly and she grinned, nodding ever so slightly and he let go of her, only to stand up and help her stand up as well, Ophelia’s cheeks burning, heart racing as she couldn’t stop smiling. “Kreacher” she called, leaning on Merlin instead of her cane, the house-elf appearing immediately, bowing his head deeply for his Mistress “yes?”

“My draught, I’ve forgotten to put it up in my room, would you-?”

“Of course, Mistress” he bowed his head deeply at her before looking up, looking between his beloved Mistress and the one she apparently was so fond of. “Shall I-… prepare the master bedroom, Mistress?” he asked hesitantly, obviously taking Ophelia by surprise as she looked at him, studying him before nodding “yes, thank you. Just for tonight” she agreed and he nodded, snapping his fingers and apparating out of sight, Ophelia trying to suppress her smile as she turned to look at Merlin “my room isn’t actually the master bedroom… I’ve-... it didn’t feel right to take it as my own, not yet” she admitted sheepishly, clearing her throat “I’ve always been staying in my old room, the one I had when I lived here with my uncle…” she added before sighing softly “but my bed is too small if you’re going to stay the night, without a room… so… if it’s alright-”

“We’ve been in bed together before” he reminded her with amusement. They hadn’t-... been in bed together, merely slept next to one another, holding each other, so he didn’t know why she thought it was different than all the other times at Hogwarts. “I know, I know, just-... this is-... home” she muttered sheepishly before clearing her throat, nodding to herself as she gave her wand a flick and her cane flew right into her open hand. “Well, luckily it’s also only up one set of stairs” she joked lightly before moving towards the hallway, Merlin following with amusement, letting her lead him to the room and once they go inside, Kreacher was there, placing a vial of sleeping draught by the vanity in the corner. “Thank you, Kreacher. Do you need any help cleaning up downstairs?”

“The Mistress has already come all the way up here-”

“I can go back down again” she stated with a soft smile and Kreacher almost smiled at her. Almost. Bowing his head deeply “Kreacher can take care of it with no problem, Mistress” he stated softly and she nodded and bowed her head “then goodnight, Kreacher. And thank you again for tonight, it meant a lot to me” she reminded him with a small smile and he bowed his head before apparating downstairs to clean up everything. “Do you need some privacy to change?” Merlin asked and she thought about it before shaking her head, flicking her wand above her head. Glitter cascaded down her body, changing it into what had become normal sleepwear over time, instead of the nightgowns from back when he’d first met her. He nodded and she smiled at him, gesturing to him after walking around to the left side of the bed, having picked up the vial of sleeping draught on the way, perfectly dosed and ready to be consumed. “Do you need to change?” she asked, gesturing to his clothes. Casual and comfortable yet fancy, suitable for dinner with his girlfriend at her house. Merlin closed his eyes and put his hands over his shirt, his blazer jacket somewhere downstairs, probably on the coat rack he left it on when he’d first arrived, earlier this evening. He opened his eyes again, knowing how much she adored watching his eyes change color, a small incantation whispered under his breath and instantly he was in what he’d slept in all these years. The same nightwear that he’d worn all those centuries ago, when he’d first met her. She smiled at the sight and nodded to herself, his eyes returning to their normal, gorgeous blue color that she loved getting lost in. “I still think that’s quite the trick” she spoke with a hint of a teasing tone to her word, Merlin smirking as he shrugged and walked over to the bed, sitting down on it and laying down, watching Ophelia as she took the draught and put the empty vial on the nightstand, laying down with her head on his shoulder, arm wrapped around him as his own wrapped around her shoulder “I know. It took me weeks to figure that one out. Gaius helped me” he admitted and Ophelia hummed with a smile, curling up further into his side, eyes closed as the draught forced her to the land of dreams, Merlin watching her for quite a while, smiling, admiring her, until sleep eventually took hold of him as well.

[holofizz]

thankyou @ionamalachite for the tag

Last song: Comforting Sounds by Mew

Favourite colour: Purple

Last book: *shrug, I've been reading just fanfiction lately which I suppose don't count. Last time I read something published was a year ago. Iirc it was 'The utterly uninteresting and unadventurous tales of Fred, the vampire accountant' I must have gotten up to the 5th book in the series. He solves supernatural problems with the power of MATH and being boring. It shouldn't work but it does.

Last movie: Dr Mordrid

Last show: Startrek lower decks

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: why not all of them at once? I suppose I do have a bit of a sweet tooth though.

Relationship status: Single. I am indifferent about it.

Last thing I googled: something to do with star trek discovery, which I've been trying to get into lately. It is difficult.

Current obsession: *Gestures aggressively towards my blog. JEFFREY COMBS (which also means star trek)

Looking forward to: Leaving my job in 2 weeks which will coincidentally fall on my birthday.

No pressure: @explorerof-theunknown @fleshpark @flowerprintundies @pillowprincessherbertwest anyone else is welcome, open tags

Ten people I'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @marshmallow--shark Thanks for the tag!

Last song: Intro/Chamber The Cartridge by Rise Against

Favourite colour: Orange!

Last book: A Brief History of Intelligence by Max Bennett

Last movie: That Christmas (it was kinda weird and we didn't finish it)

Last show: Jentry Chau vs. the Underworld

Sweet/spicy/savoury: I don't have much of a sweet tooth anymore, but I used to. Savoury!

Relationship status: Happily single

Last thing I googled: "quality" synonym

Current obsession: Star Trek: Enterprise. This is my fallback obsession. Close behind is Jentry Chau as a very recent one.

Looking forward to: Seeing a concert and a musical next year!

Tagging: @ionamalachite @peculiarreality @thetachapel02 @deadheaddaisy @papercranesong @talshiargirlfriend @glitter-and-metal @dragons-in-spaceee @pearlypairings @strze-lec

[bookshelf-dust]

you've ruined everything.

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,867

warnings: swearing, kissing, mentions of past/ongoing trauma, brief smoking, mentions of death, vecna (yes he counts), a pretty violent kill just not described in graphic detail, billy and reader are a mess

requested here

a/n: sylvia, this one's for you (really hope you read that in eddie's voice). so i kind of ended up with a recreation of some season two moments during the plot of season four, if that makes any sense. for context: everyone is still in hawkins, billy is upside-down-aware, everyone is chill with each other. this was my attempt at something riveting, but i don't know if that's what i accomplished. sidenote: for vecna's end, i want you to picture the endings of david in the lost boys or top dollar in the crow (sorry if those are spoilers). i hope you enjoy this!! <333

————

"Max..." Vecna's voice felt like a shiver. Max felt it skate down her scalp, tickle the base of her spine. As if someone had poured ice water over her head.

It was almost funny that he'd chosen her, really. She should've seen it coming.

This young, freshly traumatized girl. This girl who'd been dealt a shitty hand: uprooted from her father, from her hometown, disputed over by new friends. Best of all, she'd watched her brother get ripped apart—mentally and physically. Yeah, he'd lived, but Starcourt had still happened.

Maybe the Mindflayer was dead, but at what cost? Obviously their efforts had been in vain if Vecna was running amuck. But this time, it didn't seem like anything could be fixed. It felt like Vecna was the end.

"Your time...is almost at an end." His voice reverberated around the concrete walls of the school hallway. At least she’d thought it had.

“Max!” You were snapping your fingers in her face, an aggressive gesture, a tone in your voice you’d never used with her. It had been in her head. He’d been in her head.

Max’s headphones hadn’t left her ears since Nancy and Robin told you that music worked. That it’d saved Victor Creel (for the most part). And it would damn well save Max.

But He was getting angry. Vecna didn’t approve of your tactics. He didn’t like your plan.

Save Max. Save Max. Save Max.

So He flipped another page. Swept down another path. He looked into you. Listened.

That boy from the summer. Billy, was it? He’d hid something away. Tucked it nice and snug in the back of his mind. You.

You’d do just fine.

Vecna closed his eyes, let the vines do their job. Let them tether him to your world. He felt through that red blur, felt for you. Found himself sifting through your memories.

"Billy, would you please sit still? You fucking popped at stitch." You sounded aggravated with him, but you'd kissed the angry skin on his side anyhow.

He caught glimpses of you and that boy.

"Max, you have to tell Billy these things. He needs to know how you feel." Max hadn't known how to tell the boy how scared she'd been when she thought she'd lose him.

It seemed you played a great role in both of their lives. He wondered why he hadn't chosen you to begin with.

It seemed a different approach would be necessary this time. Messing with your mind clearly wasn't going to be the best move. Not like it had been for Chrissy. For Fred. For Patrick. Max.

So He started appearing for you. Showing himself off. Making himself known to you.

God, He was like a shadow.

The first time you'd been in the car with Steve. A glance in the rearview mirror and Vecna was in the backseat. You would've laughed at the odd manner of the situation, if it weren't for the way the monster was looking at you.

Like you were a hindrance.

You'd jumped, causing Steve to jump, but you'd gotten him to brush it off, keep his eyes on the road.

The more Vecna showed up, the more you understood what he was playing at.

He was outside the gym the night of the championship game when you'd gone out to get some air, the bleachers being way too crowded and sweaty for your liking. Billy had offered to go with you, but you knew he was much to invested in Lucas winning the Tigers the game.

You didn't even flinch when you heard that growl--familiar at this point. In fact, you patted your pockets, grabbing hold of the pack of Marlboros and the lighter Billy had shoved in your jacket earlier.

The spark caught, a little flame igniting, and you lit a cigarette. Watched as he made his way towards you. He really was ugly.

"You've ruined everything."

You felt it that time. How Max had described the way Vecna's voice carried.

To you, though, it felt like when someone lights a fuse, when you watch the flame snake up up up. And then it stops. There’s just no boom. It simply feels like the empty space after the firework goes off, the air dead quiet. You thought you could get used to the feeling if need be.

Of course, you didn’t tell anyone about this. About your experiences.

Not like Max had. Like Billy that night last summer when he’d dialed your number, hands sweating and shaking, in the telephone booth.

This wasn’t about you. This was about keeping Hawkins safe. Keeping Max and Eddie safe.

You didn’t tell anyone except Will. You thought he’d understand that instinct to not worry anyone else, and he did. Be able to tell you anything that might help. But then you realized you were burdening him with all of this, and you quit.

But your friends had started to notice when nothing was happening to Max—when she made it past the week mark, when the symptoms had stopped.

No way it was that easy. That, what, Vecna had just given up? No. It was never that simple.

————

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Steve stomped down the stairs, swung the door open.

He was met with you.

“Why are you sweaty?” Steve propped his arm up against the door frame.

“Don’t worry about it. Where’s the bat?”

“Huh?” Sometimes you thought he really did need to be told everything.

“Nancy’s bat. The one with the nails?” You waved your hands above your head for emphasis. I need to borrow it. Please.”

“That’s my bat.” Steve set his hands on his hips, his most common motherly gesture.

“No, Steve. It’s Nancy’s. You took it at Jonathan’s house, remember? Fuck, okay. That’s not important. Would you just get me the damn thing?”

Steve obliged, though slightly frightened by what you could need it for, but, frankly, he thought you were a badass and could handle whatever it was.

He marched back up the stairs to his room, leaving you in the doorway. You heard him mumble along the way. “Nancy’s bat my ass. ‘S totally my bat. I’ve used it way more.”

————

Will was panicking. He’d always been good at keeping secrets; he did it nearly every day of his life. But he cared about you. You were like a sister to him. And he understood why you’d come to him, and even why you’d stopped, but when Steve called the Byers residence in question of why you might need a bat, he entered full freak-out-mode.

He had this image in his head of you being all alone, trying to fight this thing, and it made him sick. He didn't need to feel for the goosebumps on the back of his neck to know that it wasn't just in his head.

His hands were sweating as he picked up the phone, dialed Max's number.

"Hello?"

"I need to talk to your brother."

"Will? Why do you need to talk to Billy?"

Will could hear muffled music around the sound of Max's voice, so obviously Billy was home.

"It's about Y/N. I think something bad is going to happen. I think she's going to die."

————

Steve lazily rose from the couch, pausing the television. He followed the obsessive knocking once again, raising his hands in surrender though no one could see him. "Alright! Jesus, I'm coming, I'm coming. Can't you people just leave me alone for a while?"

This time, when he swung the door open, he was met with none other than Billy Hargrove. The apparition of such a creature was so odd to him, that Steve laughed. Actually laughed. Billy did not like this.

"Shut the hell up, Harrington." Steve did, but only because he didn't like the look on the blonde's face--like something was wrong. He realized that there was no reason for Billy to be here other than if something was wrong.

"I need your help." Steve had to bite his tongue. This was insane.

"Byers said that Y/N was here tonight, that she's gone off a-and I would fucking rip you a new one for not telling me about this Vecna shit, but I don't have time for that one right now. It's just that you guys have done this before, and I'm not exactly cut out to go off looking for her on my own--"

Steve cut him off, having never seen Billy ramble, or look remotely mentally distressed. "Hey, man, it's totally fine. I'll get a hold of Nancy, and you could go pick up Robin or something--look, we will figure it out, okay? I know this is a lot."

Billy shook his hands out, zipped up his jacket. He didn't like this. Not even a little bit. He wondered if this what it had been like for you when he'd been flayed: the constant buzz of fear, like you were gonna slip and fall away from him.

But he was also angry with you. You told him everything. This meant you'd been keeping something serious from him, and the both of you had worked so hard to get to a solid point in your relationship where all of your cards were on the table, no matter how shitty the hand was.

Sometimes it was just hard to be open.

Billy sat on the steps inside Steve's place, half registering that he was on the phone with Nancy who was simultaneously arguing with Mike.

There'd been a day once, back when he was still recovering, where he was sat on the edge of the tub, you with your knees pressed into the rug below you. You'd rubbed your hands together, trying to warm up the salve before you touched him. Billy's sides had always been ticklish, but that on top of the sensitivity of healing wounds meant you had to be very gentle with him.

Billy had tried to argue that he could do it himself, but he'd lost that battle, and let you at it.

"C'mere," you'd mumbled. You'd distracted him with a kiss while you moved your hands over some of deeper scars just below his ribs. He'd registered your palms being there, but he couldn't find it in himself to give a shit when your kiss told him he'd be okay.

You dipped your fingers back in the tub of medicine, spread them over a scar on his hip. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, Billy Hargrove." He'd scoffed.

"When I said you could tell me anything, I didn't mean cheesy shit like that."

The sound of the receiver being slammed back down snapped Billy out of his reverie.

Steve looked at Billy, put his hands on his hips. "Okay, Hargrove. Let's do this."

————

You'd parked your car a ways off from the quarry, and rock crunched under your feet as you made towards the edge overlooking the water.

This was the best place for you be be alone that you could think of. The moon was full tonight, the light shining over the water. It was beautiful in the way that the lights in the mall had been beautiful that night last summer.

You paced, waiting for him. The bat was heavy in your hand as you swung it back and forth, what with the nails jammed into the wood, listening to the swooshing sound it made in the night air.

You weren't entirely sure why you'd brought it, but the idea of coming out here empty handed felt unbelievably stupid.

Fog was rolling in over the water. Fitting.

And there he was. Big and writhing and evil. An image of Billy screaming flashed through your mind. Vecna had done that. Hurt your pretty baby.

"What are you doing out here, Y/N?"

"Thought we could have a little chat, you and me."

"Is that so? What makes you think you're so special as to get that kind of treatment?"

"Nothing, really. Thought we could make a deal. You seem to like me a whole lot, what with the trauma and all. I was thinking you take me. Leave Max and everyone else alone. I think you've had plenty of fun already."

"Oh, but there's always so much more fun to be had, Y/N."

But you'd caught that shift in his demeanor. Vecna hadn't expected you to give yourself up. Chrissy had run for her daddy. Fred for the hills. Patrick thought his friends could pick up the slack. But you. You were so different. So enticing.

You'd caught Lord Vecna off guard. Eddie would think it astronomically badass.

Your thumb shifted Billy's ring around your middle finger, the other hand still swishing Nancy's bat.

"I think it's pretty solid. Take me and do whatever it is that you think you need to do to feed that ego of yours. But stay the fuck away from my family. They've had enough."

"Yeah they have." Steve's voice. Steve's voice. You turned your head in time to see Billy hand the brunette a lighter before Vecna was alight, struggling for you, for anything.

But he looked shocked at the arrow that pierced his chest, and knocked him backwards. A fucking arrow. It had been Robin. The group of you gathered to watch Vecna fall. It was almost poetic, considering the way Henry had ended up in his alternate dimension.

Not so much when you mumbled, "Where the fuck did you get a bow, Buckley?"

"I tried to take up archery in middle school," she shrugged.

You watched Vecna burn from above, his body having impaled a stalagmite at the edge of the quarry floor. It felt almost ethereal.

You spun around, suddenly remembering that Billy was there. He was looking at you, but he was practically fuming. You hadn't seen him that angry in a long time. The rest of the group noticed, but Steve spoke first. "I think we oughta go make sure he's like, for sure, cooked."

Nancy eased the bat from your hands and smiled before pattering away.

"Billy, I--"

"Don't, Y/N. What the fuck were you thinking coming out here, huh?" He was an animated arguer, a hand gesture accompanying every frustrated word. But you didn't miss the glaze over his eyes. He'd obviously been worried sick.

"Oh, I don't know Billy, maybe that if he took me, that it wouldn't be Max. That it wouldn't be Dustin, or Eddie, or Steve's funeral that I'd be going to. That it wouldn't be fucking you lying dead somewhere!"

You'd moved closer to him in your haste.

"One sacrifice is better than a handful, Billy."

"No, Y/N, it's not!" Billy shouted, his words echoing around you. "If you die and I live, I'd have nothing. You have people that depend on you."

Billy's words knocked the wind out of you. You couldn't breathe.

"Billy."

"It's different for you. Your family needs you. Nobody needs me."

You stepped in front of him, taking his hand in yours. "I do. I need you."

A tear slipped down Billy's cheek, and you reached out to hold his face. He leaned into the weight of your palm, trying to control his breathing.

"Were you ever gonna tell me that you felt this way?" You asked him.

"Were you gonna tell me about Max or this Vecna creep or that you obviously thought it was okay for you to go off getting yourself killed?"

"Billy."

"Tell me. I need to know."

"Billy, I think you've got it all wrong. If I die, the rest of the group will go on. Steve and Robin and all of the kids. It doesn't make a difference if I'm here or not. I thought that by doing this, I could somehow fix it for them. For you. Make sure that your lives would be somehow different. Safer. That I'd be worth something."

"But you are. To me. You think I keep you around for no reason, Y/N? It's not like I love you or I need you or anything?"

"Yeah but I'm sure you c--"

"No, I fucking couldn't. There's no one else out there for me. Not one as good as you. As badass. You were shit talking him, weren't you?"

Billy laughed, but that didn't stop the tears laving over his freckles.

"Yeah. But, Billy, you gotta know that Max needs you. That Lucas needs you. Who's gonna teach him to be better than Steve, huh? Robin needs you. She wants to grow out a mullet, you know. I need you, Billy."

Billy wrapped his arms around your back, firm and warm.

"We're such fucking losers."

"Welcome to the club!" Robin's voice made you jump, and Billy's hand absentmindedly rubbed your back to soothe you.

"Shit, Rob! How long have you guys been back up here?"

"Long enough to hear all about your shared trauma." Nancy said, clapping her hands together happily.

Billy rolled his eyes and kissed you, his lips chapped and a little salty, but comforting nonetheless. He couldn't give a shit if Robin was making gagging noises behind him.

God, the two of you were so fucked up. But you were more than happy to be fucked up together.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging just to be safe: @zaypay

[cconstant-ccraving]

Close to You

Chapter One 

Pairing: Golden Era Remus Lupin x Former Student! Reader

Summary: Y/n always had a soft spot for her former defence against the dark arts Professor. Two years after she left Hogwarts to be an Auror, Dumbledore recruits her to the Order where she sees him again for the first time since Hogwarts. Now an adult, feelings start to arise for a man that’s twice her age and she can’t help but feel he is unattainable. Perhaps, her love is less unrequited than it seems. 

Warnings: Mention of blood + I make a very slight plot deviation, but that’s it. Smut is in part two ;) 

Word Count: 5.1k 

one two 

It was a dark, and unfeeling building she thought to herself as she stood in the streets of London. It gave an heir of isolation despite the manor being sandwiched in between two other homes. 

“Come on Y/n! We’re going to be late,” her friend shouted from the doorway. Y/n had been introduced to Tonks on her first day of Auror training. It was safe to say that she had felt far out of her depth stepping into the grande marble corridors of the ministry. Tonks, with her bright pink hair and bubblegum smile, had tumbled right into her life, bringing technicolour visions and joy beyond belief. 

“I’m coming,” Y/n said quietly before jogging up the steps, walking into the house behind her. Y/n wasn’t necessarily shy but she was quiet. She preferred hearing others speak but she knew that when she did chip into conversations her opinion was highly valued because of this. Her skill as an auror reflected her personality, quiet but dangerous. Tonks had always said that when she watched y/n duel she was moved by how her feet danced lightly around their opponent but her spell casting was aggressive and precise. 

As she walked into 12 Grimmauld Place she was greeted with a narrow corridor and high arched ceilings. If it wasn’t so crammed with artefacts and trinkets she was sure her footsteps would scream through the building. 

Tonks led her through the home until they reached a tall wooden door. Noise rung out and when Tonks pushed it open there were people carrying plates and mugs while heads full of ginger hair shot spells back and forth playfully.

“Hey everyone!” Tonks shouted through the noise and plopped herself into a seat beside a man with a purple velvet suit jacket, curly hair and a moustache. She knew with a brief glance that this was Sirius Black. It had taken her a while when Dumbledore had told her to process that he was innocent. 

“Well, look who we have here,” Two voices jeered as Y/n gingerly stepped into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know Georgie, she looks like Y/n but I heard she was off being a big shot Auror or something,” Fred grinned and the twins stepped in front of her. 

The quiet girls face broke out into a grin and they pulled her into a tight hug, her toes lifting off the floor. They placed her down after a moment, George speaking up, “It’s good to see you.” 

She looked up at her friends, having not seen them in so long, “I’ve missed you.” 

“Y/n! Come over here!” Tonks called out to her, gesturing for her to take a seat opposite her, to the right of Sirius. 

“Ill catch up with you guys later, okay?” She said to the boys before rounding the table and taking a seat beside Sirius. 

“Why, hello there,” He smirked at her, “Who’s this here?” 

Tonks whacked Sirius on the arm, “That is my friend Y/n, she works with me at the ministry.” 

He whined and rubbed his arm before turning back to Y/n, “Well, Y/n, it is an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

She just smiled at him slightly, finding their antics funny, “You too, Sirius.” 

“You have a lovely speaking voice, tell me, how many hearts have you broken with a voice like that,” Sirius leaned into her, propping his chin into the palm of his hand as it lay on the table. 

“Leave the poor girl alone, Padfoot,” A familiar voice rung out from the door frame. 

Y/n’s head shot up to the frame, the melancholy tone of the mans voice rung through her head, sounding bells of familiarity. Her pulse jolted as she saw her ex-professor, Remus Lupin, stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he leant casually against the door way. He had shallow circles under his eyes, as he had when he taught her, but he looked more peaceful. The scars gracing his handsome face had not disappeared but their appearance had lost their prominence, his features looking fuller, healthier. 

His eyes slowly slid to her, he observed her quietly for what felt like an eternity before he spoke, “Miss Y/l/n, it’s good to see you again.” 

Her lips parted as she offered him a soft smile, “And you, Professor.” 

He chuckled, pulling out the seat opposite her and sat down, “Please, you’re not my student anymore. Call me Remus.” 

She paused for a moment, testing the way it felt on her lips, “Remus, of course.” 

Unbeknownst to her, Remus watched the way her lips had moved as she spoke his name. It had been over two years since he had seen her, taught her, but she almost looked like a completely different woman. She was, of course, always beautiful but he had never let those thoughts wander around his head when he taught her. It would have been unprofessional and, frankly, creepy. 

“And how, pray tell Moony, do you know this beautiful woman to my right?” Sirius smirked, sensing the chance to stir up some chaos. 

Y/n flushed lightly, feeling red creep up her neck and Remus coughed, “Uhm, she was a student of mine at Hogwarts.” 

“My, my,” Sirius smiled, “That is interesting.” 

“Alright!” A voice boomed from the top of the table, “Let’s get started shall we?” Alastair Moody plopped himself into a chair beside Dumbledore who had suddenly appeared. 

The room quietened as Dumbledore cleared his throat, “Firstly, I would like to welcome our newest, Miss Y/n Y/l/n. Y/n is an auror with the ministry and-” 

“Yes, yes, glad we’ve covered that,” Alastair interrupted. Alastair Moody was her mentor at the ministry, on more than one occasion shooting spells at her and once she had blocked them shouted, “CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” 

The meeting went quickly, Tonks now stood with her in the living room. It was pouring with rain, the sky shining a deep blue as the sun had just set. The rest of the Order were scattered through the room, chatting amongst themselves. 

Out of nowhere, a spell was cast in their direction. Tonks dropped her coffee cup. Instantly, Y/n blocked the spell and caught the mug before it could hit the ground. Incredulously, she looked over to see Mad Eye stood there and she exclaimed, “Enough already!” 

“Constant Vigilance!” He responded gruffly, before hobbling away. 

Tonks choked out a laugh before gesturing to the coffee cup Y/n held, “Good catch.” 

Y/n blew hair out of her face before handing it back to Tonks, rolling her eyes. Tonks took a step back saying, “I’m gonna go fill this up again.” 

Y/n crossed her arms across her chest and leant against the window frame. It felt slightly surreal to be there, in the Order. She knew that she was good at her job, she wouldn’t be alive right now if she wasn’t, but this, fighting a war, it was a completely different ball game. 

“He likes you, you know.” 

Y/n looked over her shoulder to see Remus stood in what looked like a very cosy knitted jumper. He looked a little timid, but then he always had. 

She smiled slightly, “What? Moody? Sometimes I’m not so sure.” 

Remus walked forward and stood facing her, his back leaning against the other side of the window frame, “He never trains anyone he doesn’t like. Usually just hands them off to someone else. Trust me, he likes you.” 

She smiled softly to herself as she glanced back out the window, sighing contentedly. 

“Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry but, I know it can be a little overwhelming. Being here, that is,” Remus asked, wringing his hands together lightly. He seemed to have this nervous energy. 

She nodded, “I’m okay. I’m sure it just takes a little getting used to.” 

“You’ll get there, I have no doubt,” Remus smiled. They shared a comfortable moment of silence, just enjoying being in each others company. 

Y/n went to speak but before she could Tonks tumbled back into the room, “Y/n! Can you come give me some ‘elp? There’s bloody pixies everywhere upstairs!” 

Sirius, who was stood observing the interaction between Moony and Y/n sighed, shooting a pointed look to his cousin who quickly caught on to his scheming, “Uuuuh, actually it’s alright, I got it!” 

Y/n laughed softly at Tonks, completely oblivious to Sirius’ plotting, and turned to the tall man beside her, smiling softly, “I should, em, I should help...with that.” 

Remus smiled at her, and watched as she walked down the long corridor with Tonks. He felt his friend smirking at him and he said, “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” 

“Oh, you know me Moony, there’s not a single thought in my pretty little head,” Sirius chuckled, clapping his hand onto his friends shoulder. 

--- 

It was around 1am and Y/n felt herself tossing and turning. Deciding she wasn’t going to get to sleep for a while, she trudged downstairs quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. It was cold, she was only wearing pyjama shorts and a camisole top. She suddenly regretted not taking a blanket or putting on a dressing gown.

She lifted a book off the shelf, she was an avid reader but she did, admittedly, pick the one that looked the prettiest. It was a sage green cover, all worn with the spine cracked. Someone had read it a lot. There were notes in the margins, the handwriting messy but legible. It was nice. 

She muttered a quick ‘incendio,” and lit the fire before cosying into the armchair. About an hour had passed before she heard light footsteps and the door was softly pushed open. In her peripheral vision she saw a head peering round the corner, looking for the source of the light. She looked up and saw Remus standing, his hands tucked into his sleeves. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was up,” Remus spoke softly, offering a shy smile to the girl who knees were tucked up to her chest in the armchair. 

“Oh no, that-that’s okay. I just couldn’t sleep so,” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Me either...” Remus paused before stepping fully into the room, “Do you mind?” He asked, gesturing to the seat opposite her. 

She flushed lightly, hoping he couldn’t see, “Sure.” 

Remus quickly settled himself into sofa, he glanced at her as she turned a page in the book. The orange glow from the fire illuminated the right side of her face, her hair was still slightly damp from a shower she had earlier and she looked incredibly beautiful. 

He felt a little tongue tied, he wanted to sit with her, talk with her, but he had no idea what to start with. Until he saw the cover of the book she was reading. He knew that it was the copy of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ that he had religiously read and annotated while he’d been staying at 12 Grimmauld Place. His little annotations in red pen (ever the teacher) were scribbled all throughout the margins, cramming the lines together. 

Nonetheless, he asked, “What are you reading?” 

Her face lit up with a smile as she fingered the pages, before closing the book and giving her full attention to the man sat in front of her, “It’s a muggle book, I think, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird?’ Someone’s written in the margins and marked the pages. To be honest I’m paying much more attention to the margins than the actual book.” 

Remus felt his heart flutter a little and he drummed his fingers on the arm rest, “How, how come?” 

“I don’t know,” she spoke, “I just...they’re nice.” 

They’re nice. She’s reading his annotations because she likes them. She likes something he did. He refrained from grinning, a smile tugging his lips upward, his eyes crinkling at the sides. 

Y/n noticed this and shot him a curious smile. “What?” 

“Nothing,” He shook his head, the smile stuck to his lips. 

She laughed lightly at his odd behaviour, finding it endearing. He picked up a book that sat on the small coffee table and cracked it open, a silent mutual agreement made to just enjoy each others company. Y/n cracked the book open and started reading the margins again, the red ink curling around the text. 

Some time past, the sound of their soft breaths providing a quiet melody. As the fire slowly started dying, goosebumps appeared on Y/n’s arms, a slight shivering shooting through her as she adjusted on the armchair. 

Remus quickly looked up as she moved, noticing her arms he frowned, “Are you cold?” 

She smiled shyly at him, “Not really, I can just get a blanket.” 

She went to move but Remus interrupted, “No, um, here,” he started pulling on his sleeves, “Take this.” 

Blushing she spoke, “That’s okay, really, I can just-” 

“I insist,” He said. 

They were both blushing as he held out the jumper, Y/n taking it from his hands. She slid it on, the cuffs falling way over her hands. It was comfy and it smelt like him. Chocolate; old books; cigarettes; whiskey. 

“Thanks,” She said quietly. 

The looked timidly at each other before she picked up her book again. The two, eventually and peacefully, fell asleep in each others company. 

---

“Hey.” 

It was the next afternoon and Remus was sat in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, a cup of black coffee to his right and a book in his hand. 

Remus looked up at saw Y/n stood opposite him, holding his sweater in her hands. It was folded up neatly and he noticed she had a few rings on, her nails painted a deep wine colour. In that moment he decided that he had a new favourite. 

“I, um, I wanted to give this back. I came down to wash it earlier but Molly kind of snatched it before I could so I can’t really take the credit,” She laughed shyly. 

She placed it softly on the table and Remus put his book down and picked it up gently, setting it down beside him. There was a moment of quiet before she said, “Well, I better go. Got to go and have spells shot at me by Moody again.” 

Remus let out a breathy laugh and said, “Have a good day.” 

“You too,” She smiled before leaving the room. 

A couple seconds after she left, Sirius came bounding through the door way looking to where Y/n had just walked past him, “Y’know Moony, if you’re not going to hurry up and date her I just might.” 

Remus merely scowled at him and his book up again, aggressively turning the page. 

---

“We need to get the boy,” Alastair grumbled from the top of the table. He was stood leaning on his cane, his eye swivelling around the room. 

The kitchen suddenly quietened down. Y/n, who had been sat talking with Remus and Sirius turned to him, her knee softly knocking into Remus’. 

“Why now? Dumbledore was pretty clear he didn’t want Harry anywhere near the Order until he had to be?” Tonks asked. 

“He used a patronus charm, the ministry sent him a letter expelling him from Hogwarts. He has a hearing tomorrow. It’s getting too dangerous to leave him in Surrey,” Kingsley replied. 

Moody started walking to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder, “I’ll round up Dodge and Jones. Y/l/n, Tonks, be ready to leave with us when we get back. We’ll be flying.” 

Y/n sighed and stood from her place, nodding her head at Tonks to follow her. Remus watched as she retreated, not liking the feeling that was stirring in his gut. 

Y/n quickly got changed into warm, dark clothes before grabbing her wand & broom. She waited until Tonks was ready before they made their way back downstairs. The front door was already open and Moody, Kingsley and the others were waiting with brooms in hand. Y/n had played quidditch for her house when she was in Hogwarts, so she was well accustomed to flying. 

Sirius and Remus stood on the landing as the two descended, Tonks quickly walking up to Sirius, leaving Y/n with Remus. 

The pair stood awkwardly in front of each other before Remus spoke, “Be safe.” 

A shy smile crossed her lips, “It’s just a retrieval, Remus. We’ll be fine.” 

“I know,” He blushed. 

“Y/n! Let’s go,” Moody called from the doors and she shot on last look at Remus before going to join them as they flew into the sky. 

---

Y/n was stationed outside 3 Privet Drive as the others collected Harry. Since she had been good friends with Fred and George, their paths had crossed a couple times and they were friendly. She’d also shared the quidditch pitch with him plenty of times. 

She heard the front door open and turned in its direction, seeing Harry being led out of his ‘home.’ 

The bespectacled boy smiled at her, “Y/n, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m here to collect you, trouble. Auror duties and all,” She winked.  

Harry blushed, he’d always had a secret crush on the girl. She, having been head girl and a couple years older than him, was completely unattainable. 

“Any issues, Y/l/n?” Kingsley asked. 

This is where she frowned and pointed to the south, “I saw some movement and sensed some spells coming from that direction. We should get going, if there’s any trouble I’ll ward it off, you just focus on getting Harry back.” 

The group quickly mounted their brooms and started flying through the air, but as they had just began flying over water, sparks flew their way, Tonks having to quickly pull up on her broom. 

Y/n looked over her shoulder and saw two caped figures nearing them, they had clearly been watching the house. She quickly shot spells over her shoulder, the death eaters blocking them and shooting curses at her. 

She quickly shot a glance to the group and shouted to Alastair, who was leading, “Go! Protect Harry, I’ll deal with them!” 

Moody nodded, he trusted her judgement. He had trained her and knew that she was fully capable of handling the situation and continued with the group. Harry, who was flying in the middle, protected on all sides, caught Y/n’s eye. He was frowning, a worried look on his face. Before she could smile or try to reassure him they were gone. 

She sensed a curse being cast her way and quickly turned to dodge it. However, the second death eater had shot a spell at the same time and suddenly her lip was cut open, the curse stopped it from closing up. She’d have to get someone to cast the counter curse when she got back to headquarters. There was an other cut on her hairline and blood trickled down her face. 

Angrily, she cast defensive spells their way, effectively knocking one off their broom and shooting the other far enough back to try and make a getaway. In one last move, the death eater shot a spell her way, however it only managed to singe her cloak, which she tore off to stop it from setting her alight. Soon, she vanished from sight completely.  

---

The group led Harry into Grimmauld Place, he was biting his lip to pieces thinking about how they left Y/n behind. Sure, she was an auror and definitely knew a lot more about defensive spells than he did, but he was still worried for his friend. 

Soon, he was sent upstairs by Mrs Weasley and the others walked into the kitchen. Arthur frowned when he notices Y/n was missing, “Alastair, where’s Y/n?” 

Moody grunted in annoyance before sitting down, “Ran into some trouble, couple death eaters. She stayed to deal with them, should be back soon.” 

Remus was sat in his usual space beside Sirius, his hands curling into fists, “You left her alone?” 

“Yes. I did. She is a highly trained, highly skilled, professional Auror. She can handle a couple of death eaters.” 

“If we could get back to the matter at hand,” Snape drawled from his seat beside Dumbledore, who was sat quietly observing. 

Moony and Padfoot glowered in his direction but said nothing as Tonks spoke up, “Harry’s upstairs. He’s fine, probably just wanting some answers.” 

The discussion continued for another few minutes before the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, the kitchen door creaking open. Y/n stood smiling guiltily in the frame, blood still flowing from her hairline, her lip split and bleeding. 

“Oh my,” Dumbledore spoke softly, “Whatever happened?” 

Mrs Weasley ushered her into the room and sat her down at the top of the table as she rushed around, grabbing supplies. 

“Two death eaters, nothing too bad. One of them nicked me with blood curse, I just need to counter it and the bleeding will stop. If I could just find my damn wand,” Y/n spoke frustratedly, patting her pockets trying to find where she had placed her wand. 

Remus hurriedly stood from his chair and walking round the table to her, “Let me.” 

He gently cupped her chin and tilted her head upwards and began muttering the counter curse, holding his wand up to the cuts and bruises the dark wizards had left behind. 

Y/n winced and she felt it working. The cuts would’t heal properly for a while but at least the bleeding would stop. 

“Severus, do you have any blood replenishing potions? I’m afraid Miss Y/l/n will be in need of some,” Dumbledore spoke gently again, a twinkle in his eye appearing as he surveyed Remus caring for the girl. 

Snape ‘hmmed’ before standing with a flourish and reached into one of the cupboards, picking up a bottle and handing it to Molly. The Weasley matriarch tutted and poured the potion into a glass and followed it up with a glass of whiskey, placing it on the table in front of the girl. 

Y/n raised an eyebrow at the woman, “Mrs Weasley, I never realised you were a party girl.” 

Molly just tutted again and said, “Nasty taste those potions have, you’ll thank me for it in a minute.” 

Y/n smiled, wincing as her lip split again. She turned to picked up the glass but Remus softly tugged her chin back to face him muttering a brief, “Not done yet.” 

She spent the next five minutes glancing up at him, taking in the way his brow creased and his nose crinkled at the bridge; the way his lips moved as he whispered the spell; the scars that travelled horizontally across his cheeks; his brown eyes that were speckled with flecks of gold. 

Slowly, holding eye contact with her, he said, “Finished.” 

He slowly dropped his hand from her chin and cleared his throat as she smiled softly and went to drink from the glasses on the table. She scowled as she smelt the potion before quickly drinking it. It was horrid. Sirius chuckled at her expression at the end of the table before she quickly downed the whiskey. 

Sighing she pushed herself out of the chair and stood, wobbling a little on her feet as her vision doubled, “Woah, dizzy.” 

Remus quickly caught her and pulled her arm above his shoulders and held her steady, “Alright, let’s get you upstairs.” 

The pair slowly made their way out of the kitchen, Y/n leaning her weight on Remus. They walked up the stairs in silence and once on the landing, Harry shot out of one of the bedrooms, Ron and Hermione quickly stumbling after him. 

“Y/n! Are you okay? What happened?” Harry questioned, a stressed expression plastered on his face. 

“I’m fine Harry, nothing I can’t handle,” She replied. 

Harry looked like he wanted to continue but Remus interrupted, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

He walked her to her bedroom before removing his arm from her, deeply sighing as he averted his gaze out of the window, “I can’t believe Moody just left you out there by yourself.” 

He ran a hand over his mouth as Y/n frowned, “Why? He knows what I can handle, Remus.” 

“Well, clearly he was wrong because you got hurt!” He replied, his voice rising steadily. 

The girl scoffed, “Seriously?” 

His expression faltered for a second, “That’s not- That’s not what I meant.” 

“Remus, I don’t know if you noticed, but I am not your student anymore,” She started.

“Trust me, I know,” He muttered silently under his breathe, Y/n not hearing. 

“I’m a bloody auror. This is my job and the risk of being hurt comes with the territory. I am stood here after fighting two death eaters and if the worst that’s happened to me is that I have a split lip, I think I did a damn good job!” She shouted. 

Remus stood with his jaw clenched, his heart thundering in his chest, “Well excuse me for not wanting to be around for when something worse happens to you!” 

“Fine! Go then!” She responded, her voice straining so much she thought it would crack. 

“Fine!” He responded, storming out of the room, the door slamming behind him. 

“Fine!” She mimicked, wanting to get the last word in. She grabbed the hairbrush that had been sat neatly on the dresser and threw it at the floor in anger before slamming to door to the ensuite bathroom. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione had been stood in the hallway as Remus stormed out of the room and back down the stairs. 

Ron frowned at his old professor who’s cheeks were flushed and brow was furrowed, “What the bloody hell was that about?” 

Harry shrugged, “No clue.” 

Hermione just laughed at their naïvety and rolled her eyes, “Boys.” 

---

After she had showered and cleaned up her cuts, Y/n found herself back in the lounge. The fire was lit and the twins were sat with Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry, making fireworks appear in the air. Sirius sat beside them, laughing at their antics. 

She saw Harry slowly make his way over to her and sat down in the chair Remus had occupied only a few months ago when they’d spent the night in the lounge. Her knees were once again curled up to her chest, her hands tucked into her own sweater this time. 

She looked over to him with a soft smile, “Hey, Harry.” 

He smiled sheepishly, “Hi.” 

Her brown furrowed, “Everything okay?” 

“I just,” he started, “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.” 

She sighed, shaking her head lightly at him, “Harry, none of this is your fault.” 

“People say that, all the damn time but, none of this would be happening if it weren’t for me,” He stressed, frustration and guilt coursing through him. 

Y/n placed her feet on the floor and leant forward, her elbows resting on her knees, “Harry. Tell me, when Mad Eye goes to work in the morning, spends his days hunting dark wizards, do you think he does that for you?” 

“Well, no-” 

“Do you think when Tonks takes down a pack of vampires she thinks ‘I’m doing this for Harry Potter?’”

“Of course not but-” 

“Exactly. Harry, there’s bad things out there. There always has been and there always will be. Voldemort may be after you, and we may protect you, but we all have our own motives for fighting this war. People are fighting for their own families and their own friends, for the people that don’t know any better,” She continued. 

She paused, and held her hand out to him which he gingerly took, “Don’t put all of this on your shoulders, Harry. You won’t make it if you do.” 

He looked at her, and feeling a little lighter than when he sat down, he smiled, “You’re right. I know you’re right but... why does it have to be so hard?” 

“It won’t be forever, Harry,” She smiled sadly, before letting his hand go, “Go back to your friends, try have some fun before tomorrow.” 

He blushed and nodded, “Thanks Y/n.” 

“Anytime, kid.” 

She watched as Harry walked back over to his friends, he laughed as Ron nudged him and the twins wiggled their eyebrows as he sat down. She smiled softly, he deserved to have happiness, he deserved a simple life. Unfortunately, she knew he wouldn’t get one. 

“You’re good with him,” A voice sounded. She knew who it was, of course. She felt like his voice was permanently etched into her mind. Her gaze flitted to him. as he nervously took the chair opposite her, Y/n suddenly finding the sleeves of her jumper interesting. 

“You know, according to Sirius, he has the biggest crush on you,” Remus joked lightly. 

She laughed timidly, looking into the fireplace, “He’s young, he’ll get over it.” 

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them before Remus spoke, “I’m sorry. I just... I let my emotions get ahead of me earlier.” 

She flitted her gaze to him cautiously. He was already looking at her, his eyes glimmering in the orange firelight. 

“Me too,” She bit her lip, glancing quickly at her hands before looking back at him. 

“You’re one of the most skilled witches I know, Y/n, I know that. But this is war and...” Remus paused, he averted his gaze to the floor looking scared, “Everyone I have every cared for has died or been driven to insanity by Voldemort. I can’t watch the same thing happen to you. I can’t. I won’t do it.” 

She frowned as she leant closer to him and whispered, “What do you mean?” 

“I...I care for you. Deeply. But I refuse to let myself get closer to you because I know that if you die it will tear me apart. So, I’m putting a stop to this before I let myself fall for you any further,” He spoke definitively, a grim look displayed on his handsome face. “I know it’s selfish, and it is not fair to you but... I don’t have a choice.” 

Y/n sat silently, her gaze locked onto his. Her hands were clasped tightly together, every noise, every wall, every part of the room felt like it was suffocating her. 

So she quietly spoke, a tear falling from her eye as she spoke, “You’re right. It is selfish.” 

She wiped the tear from her cheek quickly before standing and walking briskly out of the room, passing Sirius as she did. He reached out and caught her arm, “Y/n.” 

His voice was full of pity as she pulled her arm softly from his grasp, “Don’t.” 

She quickly found her way into her bedroom, closing the door behind her and locking it. She pressed her back against it and reached for her wand, “Muffliato.” 

Then she cried. 

---

next chapter 

[pixla]

Promise (Fred Weasley x reader)

Summary: after pulling a light hearted prank on a slytherin, umbridge takes your punishment into her own hands, followed by fluffy comforting from Fred

Warnings:fluff,angst,injury(cuts),crying,kissing,cursing (tell me if there’s anymore)

— xx —

It was only supposed to be an innocent prank. Slipping a small vile of liquid into Marcus Flint's drink, just to make his hair stick up in all odd directions, or at least that’s what George had told you when he suggested the idea.

You knew you were truly fucked when your giggles and whispers were broken by the pink wearing devil herself stomping over to your table. She was hurried and wore an expression that could only ever be described as pure rage. She hissed your name and you swear you could see a long red tongue shoot from her lips. “My office. Now!”

She grabbed your wrist, making sure to dig her nails into the flesh, sure to leave her mark on you for a few days to come. You pulled away, securing distance from the woman as you reached to grab your belongings. The woman scrunched up her nose before giving probably the most passive aggressive smile you had ever seen.

“Now dear, you won’t be needing those.” The woman scoffed, looking down at the two ginger haired boys who previously sat either side of you. “I’m sure your friends here will gladly look after your things, now won’t you?” Her eyes shot to Fred who gave your satchel a light pat and his head a small nod, looking up at you as he did so.

“Well that’s settled!” She clasps her hands together before turning on her heels. “Follow me!”

You rolled your eyes as Umbridge made her way down the aisle, small clicks of her heels following in her path. “See you later.” You lent down to lay a small peck on Fred’s cheek, him uttering a small “love you.” Before you waved him goodbye, jogging to catch up with the woman.

—

Awkwardly you closed the door behind you as the Umbridge wandered to her desk, pulling out a large quill from the top drawer. “This,” she pinched her fingers at the base of the feather, guiding them up to outline the shape and length of the item. “Is what you’ll be writing with.”

“Okay…” You step forward hesitantly, not sure just when the woman might bite. She pulled out a small chair, gesturing you to sit and when you didn’t, she stomped her pink heeled foot like an angry toddler. “Sit!” She stepped back, her smile laced with something sinister that you couldn’t quite read. “Now all I want you to do is write exactly what you did wrong.” She pointed to the paper in front of you. “You’ll keep doing this until I think you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Not so bad you thought. You picked up the feathered object from the desk. “Won’t I need ink?” You looked confusedly at the quill that laid lone in your palm.

“My dear, that won’t be necessary.” The woman turned her back once again to find a seat at her desk. You could feel her eyes on you, even as she pretended to be consumed in her work. You never imagined her to be this desperate to watch some student carry out a rather boring detention.

You furrowed your eyebrows, adjusting your grip on the quill before placing it to the paper. ‘I won’t play anym-‘ Your hand closed into a fist as you let out a small gasp. You could see Umbrige smirk before turning back to the piles of paper in front of her. Jesus Christ. You looked down to your hand as you turned it over to reveal the letters you had previously written to the parchment etched into your skin.

“Continue!” The woman interrupted your suffering swiftly. You wanted to spit back some snarky response about how she was a wicked bitch but even you knew it wasn’t the wisest decision as you took the feather back into your hand.

—

You did it, you braved it through, bearing the scar to prove it too. You tried your hardest to show composure in her office and you did just that, only when you closed that door did you feel your cheeks become wet with tears that were previously only pricks in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, as you became a complete blubbering mess. You quickly wiped your face with the ends of your sleeves. All you could think about was Fred but you knew by this time, even he wouldn’t be found awake.

You dragged your heels along the stone hallway floors, your other hand still gripping your wound.

You wearily muttered the password as the woman looked pitifully at you. You mustered up your best smile and ‘thank you’ as you stepped through the doorway. You felt more tired than you ever had before but you couldn’t bear the idea of walking into the dorms looking in such a state. Dignity was the one thing you were hoping to keep a hold of.

You let out a sniffle as you took a seat in front of the fireplace, your knees tucked into your chest. This spot had always been your favourite, considering how cold it could get in the castle during the night.

You turned around sharply as you heard the creek of a floorboard from behind you. You breathed out in relief, expecting to be greeted with the sight of a teacher or maybe even another student who had the same idea as you to warm up by the fire. But no, it was only what you could have hoped for most, “Fred.” The boy gave you a small but sweet smile, walking over to you. Only once he could properly see your face, illuminated by the blaze of the fire, did his expression change. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He placed his hand to your cheek, lovingly.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, lifting your hand to place it atop of his.

“Jesus.” He grabbed your wrist, not harshly, just so he could see exactly what he thought he just did. “That woman, I swear once I- once dumbledore find out what she did to you-“

“Freddie.” You interrupted him, pulling his hand into your lap, wrapped in yours. “Please, I’m okay.”

“You’re not.” The boy persisted, looking down at the words scribbled into your flesh. “This is my fault. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let George even suggest the idea, knowing what Umbridge is like.”

“Hey.” The boy's eyes shot up to meet yours. “It’s not like you could’ve known, unless you have some kind of sweet that’d let you see into the future.” You tried your best to try and get a laugh out of him not wanting your poor mood to rub off on him.

You succeeded the boy cracking a small smile and an airy laugh. “ I just can’t bear seeing you hurt.” He breathed out, a slight shake in his voice.

You shifted to your knees, changing your position to sit closer to him as you lifted your hand to carefully brush his hair from his eyes. “And I can’t bear to see you hurt over me, Freddie.” You press your forehead to his, your noses lightly brushing together for a second. “You don’t need to protect me, nor feel responsible.” You spoke, your voice more hushed this time. “I just need you to stay with me, okay?”

Fred finally gave into the closeness of the two of you, leaning in, letting your lips finally meet with his. Your hand fell from his cheek, falling to his shoulders. You breathed in sharply as he pulled away only for a moment just to utter a few words. “I promise.”

[professionally-petty]

Instead of reaching for the trashcan like a normal person despite it being literally within arm’s reach Peter. yes the overly dramatic son of a bitch assistant...did a dramatic 180 and zeroed in on the poor potted plant by the couch. with zero hesitation and all the grace of a FUCKING dying gazelle, he...well... barfed into the once-pristine swiss cheese plant he called...Fred- (bitch idfk- I'm pullin all this out mah ass-) once that whole ordeal was over, he leaned heavily onto the armrest, letting out a long, pained groan.

"Fffffuuuuuuccckkk. I was eight months sober..."

his voice cracked mid-sentence as he buried his face in his arm, muffling a defeated whimper. after a moment, he peeked out, his face pale and his expression twisted somewhere between regret and bitterness.

"I hate Paulingggg,"

he slurred with a half-hearted chuckle, as though the name alone could explain the entire situation.

"This is somehow her fault, I just know it. Corporate bullshit, stress, making me- ugh!"

He gestured vaguely toward the ruined plant, his voice wobbling as he started to spiral. he sighed, planting his head back on the armrest and staring with blurry eyes at the poor, defiled swiss cheese plant.

"a-and YOU-"

His tone took a melodramatic edge as if mourning a dear friend. pointing aggressively at...a fucking plant-

"YOU WERE THRIVING- I watered you, I gave you the perfect amount of sunlight- HELL I made sure to germinate you properly but look at you now..."

He let out another groan, dragging his fingers down his face dramatically.

"Now you're just a fucking crime scene-"

Pausing for a moment of silence (for himself or the plant, it wasn’t clear...), he let out a pitiful laugh as he shook his head

"God, I hope Pauling never sees this... she’d call it poetic justice or some shit..."

On one of his usual trips to Peter’s office, Lime stopped in his tracks. The door...normally left unlocked...was shut tight, the handle refusing to budge. leaning in closer. From behind the door came the faint sound of muffled voices, just barely audible through the thick wood. Someone was in there, probably peter...

@professionally-petty

Lime was confused, and concerned. He quickly became worried and knocked on the door frantically

Yo, pumpkin? you in dere?

he wasnt about to just not see peter, it was his daily routine by this point! He waited for an answer from someone, anyone

[bluewinnerangel]

Larry Loves Laurels

EDIT: June 30th 2021 because sOmEoNe’s still at it EDIT again: July 2nd because now the other one’s at it too EDIT AGAIN: July 3rd ok now they’re both it at the same time...

This is something I wanted to gather in a post for a while now and with the recent post of Louis wearing a cap that includes a laurel wreath, it’s time to let this monster out of my drafts. It became a long masterpost/timeline of the times laurel wreaths showed up on their clothing or in some other way.

Louis loves laurels. This was a big one, when he wore this shirt while perfoming a bunch of songs for the first time (sept 14 2019):

And H has 2 massive laurel tattoos:

And that’s quite inchresting as Larry = laurel. Literally.

putting a cut in, this gonna be a long one:

The name “Larry” is short for Laurence/Lawrence, which in turn comes from the Latin Laurentius, meaning "From Laurentum" (a city near Rome) which is thought to be derived from the Latin laurus ("laurel"). The name could also be derived from the Old Greek word Lavrenti meaning "bright one, shining one". 

(also “bright one, shining one”, GHUH)

It’s so simple, so loud, it’s pretty much a smack in the face.

Again like all my posts I’m not saying they’re definitely doing this on purpose and that this is the meaning behind it. Let’s be real here, basically all I’m doing is me see plant me point, but after 10+ years of similar nonsense it wouldn’t be too crazy to think this has turned into some “let’s see if they catch this muwhaha” chaosgay sidebehavior again (I’m tired). It’s also mostly just a Fred Perry catalogue (the brand’s logo is a laurel wreath) but there are some other occurences that do make me go oh wow you lil shit, so darling just hold on, just sit back, pretend to relax, and let’s get this going:

june 5 2015

This not exactly fitting his regular style (at all) sighting of an H in Fred Perry:

lil edit: now that he’s wearing the jacket again in 2021 I saw this pic resurface so let’s just have in in here as well:

june 12 2015

april 18 2016 (for these I’m just gonna link @bulletprooflarry​​​ ‘s tags because it shows both the events and the reactions to it, I hope that works, sorry if tumblr’s gonna be stubborn with that)

Then louis-

-tomlinson one day decides it’s time. And demonstrating already why it might not be just a random brand choice: the day the man was papped in the larry outfit, the “home made” shirt (H’s tat) and “ellesse” pants (LS, for what, hmm?), is also the first sighting of him wearing Fred Perry too. He wears ‘ellesse” often around this time, but AFAIK Fred Perry only shows up 3 times in 2016, two days in a row and again a few days later. Here’s him in the outfit ft. chocolatemilk

and the vest (source)

april 19 2016 

stuntcuddling in a laurel shirt

I don’t think he wore a larry clowncostume the day before whatever this photoshoot was just for the fun of it, maybe because of it. Just look at this, I mean he looks good modeling but this is just ridiculous:

(x)

Also this was around the time Louis was constantly papped either with strollers or just anything really like he was a kardashian, just insane amounts of times. There is probably a nice timeline of it somewhere but I’m blind so instead here’s a google search for articles in april alone.

Intermission: I was just going around checking if people close to them wear this brand too, and I found 2 instances of James Corden on papwalks in FP shirts too (as well as 2 for Liam on stage, none for Niall or Zayn), but the timing just made me aggressively flop my he-got-the-dagger-arms so I’m gonna mention it: it was right after these pics of louis. Did... did James dark larrie again here? 3 days after Louis+laurel+gf pap pics, there’s an article of James+laurel+wife pap pics (april 22nd 2016) To make things worse, the other time was oct 17 2015 (bears? belfast? that whole uh... *vaguely gestures* time). But I mean, call it a boinky coincindoinky, right? Moving on.

april 26 2016

Then the 3rd sighting, + ellesse cap

and that’s it for louis as far as I could tell for about a year, but then there’s H:

september 29 2016

H’s Another Man photoshoot

dec 1st 2016

finds the coat again

jan 21 2017

That spaceboy cardigan sighting, this is a weak one

I mean, it’s just unspecified leaves.

june 25 2017

L’s photoshoot for The Observer Magazine

Also: The above not being Fred Perry is a big hurray, because this is where our dear Louis either starts asking his stylists to include laurels everywhere and they have trouble finding anything beyond that brand or he just got a brand deal because:

The beloved James Dean ones

same photoshoot, two more pieces:

july 11 2017

In the Back To You clip on his instagram

I don’t know why this one’s extra funny to me

july 18 2017

Photoshoot for Vice

oct 11 2017

Just Like You cover, guess what?

louis wearing larry on his heart part 2828

september 23 2017

For SIDMAG, baby here we go again

apparently this photoshoot has its own tumblr so here’s that link

clearer view of the pants^ (gif from here):

december 2 2017

THANK GOD SOME NON-PRED FRERRY, but to be fair the mans just wearing a rich people brand like rich people do

december 22 2017

Miss You’s vertical spotify video

Despite Harry wearing a ton of different stuff in 2017 including loads of floral prints and a large range of wild stuff, he somehow manages to avoid laurel wreaths/branches altogether (as far as I could find, apart from the maybe spaceboy).

june 4 2018

Harry’s Gucci campaign, straightgay up wearing a laurel wreath, but to be skeptical again that just fits the whole Gucci aesthetic (also I didn’t look at the clothes he’s modeling for as that wouldn’t make much sense, but I thought, maybe the accessories are a pass, I mean he’s also wearing his own rings)

yes I’m including

more pictures

than necessary

I mean 

yes

nov 27 2018

some more tommy on the X factor 

march 12 2019

Two of us spotify video, 2 burberry sweaters this time, because apparently these things come on twos.

april 25 2019

does this count

the little heads

too far?

That was all fun and games (get it, because olympic games), but the unhinging is yet to start, would you believe it? points at a taco

may 8 2019

Because, welp, Louis adds Laurel Wreath to his 28 Songs playlist (lyrics here)

sorry I don’t think I was clear lemme try again:

LOUIS. ADDS. 

L A U R E L  W R E A T H. 

TO. HIS. PLAYLIST.

(he doesn’t have the playlist anymore, but here’s the post, here’s the list of songs)

...and if you think he doesn’t gayvinci code with his spotify playlists, you might - be wrong. For instance, the song “Party and Bullshit” before ���Just Like You”? I mean come on.

august 6 2019

hi

september 14 2019

Back to Louis’ performance in Madrid. Look at this man go showing off his 28 tattoo while Kiwi’s playing in the background with a laurel wreath on his heart, about to debut Too Young, Defenceless, Habit, and DLIBYH like what more do you want, the man’s a walking larry billboard.

september 21 2019

seriously is he standing this way making sure we see the lil logo with his leg out and holding his shirt so it doesnt possibly fall over it like really son

september 27 2019

THE BALLS ON THIS FAN. THE SMIRK ON HARRY 

the universe be universing x

oct 23 2019

His Breaking Down Walls series on his youtube

that little pull at the logo LOL

gUySs LoOk At My ShIrT

louis be like 

and the moment is repeated in all his 5 chapter videos too

nov 17 2019

Hits radio interview and perfomance, yes it’s the round thingy:

november 23 2019

DLIBYH promo

Grandpa WHAT is that shirt

dec 11 2019

Fine Line Spotify listening party

Grandma WHAT is that wallpaper

iS tHaT fErN!?

Bright shining golden branches of unspecified leaves that do not NOT look like laurels

jan 27 2020

Walls listening party

more pictures than necessary because LOOK AT HIM

me seeing yet another laurel:

february 1 2020

Photoshoot For fabulous magazine

march 3rd 2020

WMI directors cut Q&A videos

mans wearing this larry joke of a jacket again (what were those days tho, when they seemed to have resorted to bluegreening, really what were they on)

december 4 2020

peculiar spaceboy comes back

april 10 2021

And the mess that made me finally finish this post:

EDIT july 3rd 2021:

may 25th 2021

Louis puts that cap on Cliff in E’s insta story

june 10 2021 Harry / Louis

It appears that if you want to get your picture taken with harry all you need to do is wear some ~subtle~ larry shit and then we got him going YOU THERE YEAH YOU TAKE A PICTURE WITH ME

Louis’ laurel skull cap comes back yet again as he’s playing football with some kids 

He’s also pairing it with some wild bluegreening but ok

june 30 2021

Harry’s in Italy, has been for a while shooting MP, Louis showed up with a tan from all the rain in england yesterday and now suddenly we got Harry stuntcuddling in a laurel shirt, is this 2016 again?

anyway don’t wanna put stunt pics in here but it’s included in potato mode inside this horrible oddly specific meme so have that instead

So as this is going on I just keep piling up posts that are all redundant because this is the masterpost but I still wanna link here too, anyway

~next day~

july 1st 2021

People have also pointed out these as laurels

Another one of his floral print shirts that when initially making this masterpost I would have ignored (as I haven’t included any of those and there are plenty that include ~unspecified leaves~), but given the context (the uh.. laurel flanking days) I guess these unspecified leaves are more convincing than let’s say the spaceboy cardigan for sure so let’s just include them (also again maybe the reason they’re going at it so hard has something to do with the fact that I had to cut out O of the pic here)

~next day, yep laurel game stronk~

july 2nd 2021

Nevermind the blue greening AGAIN and then he did some more

Really these two take the crown:

this one as a close third

really bitch both bluegreening and laureling in one outfit not just once but 3 times really this trick ass bropal bitch

anyway

~NEXT DAY AND IT’S BOTH OF THEM:~

july 3 2021 Harry / Louis 

Don’t want to give this context but I think I gotta because it matters: Louis is with friends watching the UEFA Euro game in England (E’s there too). Harry is in Rome, at the game (O’s there, full on expecting some pap bs soon) (I mean quite a day)

Not only is Harry’s laurel jacket back

the laurel skull cap is as well 

this isn’t a great pic showing off the cap but it’s a great pic of him so buh it’s gonna be in here

I guess have this. But it’s clear in the linked vid.

Does the cap know the bomber jacket is in love with him?

...

Woo! That was A LOT. they are a lot

Other meanings

So besides it literally being the meaning of the name “Larry” this interpretation of the laurel tattoo (and with that the use of laurel imagery in general) really shouldn’t be overlooked.

I can’t make this post without mentioning what laurels symbolize in general. In short, the laurel wreath is often used as a symbol of unfading glory, a power status symbol of victory. (In long: the golden laurel crown symbolizing the transience of glory, victory and power instead). It’s used in family/home crests a lot, including nautical themed ones. 

Just scrolling google you find all kinds, this one’s one hell of a larry:

Guys are we a yachting or sailing team or championship??

Harry take note, I found one where the leaves are replaced with fish:

Fred Perry has its own history as well. In very short: it’s one of those brands adopted by british working class sub-cultures like mods and chavs, fitting Louis’ aesthetic in 2017-2020 (saying 2020 because we’re all eyeing the new era). Could be it’s just purely this and pre-2017 were just coincidunkirky hiccups, but I feel the man found the best of both worlds and ran with it.

Bonus:  maybe coincidentally  styled-in-fred-perry  fetus Harry  (a haiku by me)

(I tried to find other members wearing this brand in 1D days but all I have so far is 1x Louis and 1x Niall together with H in the next pics, doesn’t mean they weren’t all just styled in it occasionally tho, I mean, it doesn’t look like it but there’s a limit to how deep I dive):

In conclusion

[witch-and-a-half]

pretty

i’d originally wanted to do this idea with Cedric, but i’m honestly so glad i tried it with Fred instead. and it was fun to come up with a makeup look for Fred :)

notes: reader x fred, fluff, kissing!, probably a gryffindor but not really important, unrequited love <3

words: 1.5k

- - -

The Gryffindor Common Room was surprisingly empty for a Friday afternoon. [y/n] sat on one of the couches flipping through a Muggle magazine her mother had sent her that morning. She barely looked up from the page when she heard someone come in.

“Hi Freddie.” she said cheerfully, eyes still on the glossy photos of celebrity makeup looks.

Fred didn’t respond, but instead dropped himself onto the ground a few feet in front of [y/n]’s couch. He let out a dramatic sigh and laid flat on the rug with his gangly limbs sprawled out around him.

[y/n] grinned and dropped her magazine onto her lap, “What’s the matter?”

“I was supposed to hang out with Lee and George tonight… but they’ve both got dates.” Fred stuck his tongue out in disgust.

[y/n] raised her eyebrow. “Oooh, with who?”

Fred looked at her, feigning shock, “I can’t believe you’re more interested in a bit of silly gossip than my feelings. My evening plans are ruined, so now you have to hang out with me.”

Now it was [y/n]’s turn to pretend to be hurt. “Oh, I see. I’m the backup friend.”

Fred groaned again and moved to join [y/n] on the couch. “You know that’s not what I meant.” His arms draped lazily across the back of the couch so his forearm rested behind [y/n]’s head.

“Let’s do something fun.” Fred shifted his arm to nudge [y/n]’s head rather aggressively.

“I know!” [y/n] said as a mischievous grin spread across her face. Fred’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that look in her eye, it was the same look she would get when he and George convinced her to help out with their latest prank. But he’d never had that look directed at him.

“I can do your makeup!”

Fred let out yet another defeated groan and leaned his head back, “[y/n]... I don’t think-”

“Pretty please?”

He looked over at her for a moment. Her lower lip pouted out and her brows pulled inwards. Fred couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated puppy dog eyes. How could he say no to her now?

“Please?” she said again, softer, “I promise I won’t go overboard and no one will know.”

Fred sighed in resignation. “Okay, fine. Pinky promise you won’t tell?”

[y/n] wrapped her little finger around Fred’s outstretched pinky and gave it a little shake. Her face broke into a giddy grin. Her hands clasped together and she stood up, bouncing a bit on her toes as she did so. “I’ll be right back!”

“You’re gonna look so pretty!” [y/n] chirped as she bounded up the stairs to get her makeup kit. Fred slumped back into the couch with his palm on his forehead. His face grew warm as he thought of how excited [y/n] looked and how secretly excited he was to spend the evening with her.

~ ~ ~

“Hold still!” [y/n] reprimanded.

She had finished brushing his eyebrows out and putting a smidge of concealer under his eyes and along his nose-bridge. Now she was sweeping a bit of forest green eyeshadow along his lash-line.

Fred’s eyelids fluttered a bit each time she brought the brush to his skin. “Please don’t do too much…” he murmured carefully so his face stayed as still as possible. [y/n] giggled as she finished putting the shadow on his second eye. “It’s just the tiniest bit of green to bring out your red hair. You can open your eyes now.”

[y/n] stayed close to his face, admiring her work so far. Fred watched her eyes examine his face, and struggled to suppress a small smile. His heart soared seeing how focused she was.

“Okay, this part is important. Close your eyes again.” [y/n] grabbed her eyeliner pen and turned back to Fred’s face. She hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right angle.

Fred opened one eye to see why she hadn’t started poking at him again. “What is it?”

“I’ve just never done eyeliner on another person.” she said, “I’m used to doing it straight on but it’s hard to do from the side of your chair.”

As [y/n] leaned across his knees to see how the pen angled from each side, Fred lightly grabbed her hips and guided her onto his lap. It wasn’t a forceful gesture, but his boldness surprised both of them. [y/n] felt her heartbeat quicken as she leaned towards his face with the eyeliner pen. His eyes closed and he asked, “Is that better?” She hummed an “Mhm” in response and silently prayed he couldn’t hear the tremble in her voice.

She drew a thin line along his long lashes, and then added the daintiest little wing to the outer corners. [y/n] pulled back and Fred’s eyes opened slowly. One of his hands rested gently on [y/n]’s knee, ensuring her thighs stayed perpendicular atop his own.

“I think that’s the best eyeliner I’ve ever done.” she said through a soft laugh. The surprise in her voice was genuine. [y/n] was impressed she’d managed to make any sort of straight line with Fred’s touch distracting her.

His hand fell from [y/n]’s knee as she stood to grab a rosy lipstick. When she came back to Fred, she found herself straddling him. She didn’t think to do it… it just happened. Her knees rested on either side of his thighs on the chair. [y/n]’s hips stayed close to his knees, so their torsos were far apart, but she was straddling him nonetheless. Fred’s hand came to her outer thigh to steady her as she leaned in to put on the lipstick. Her forefinger curved beneath his chin, holding his face steady as she dragged the lipstick along the inner part of his lips. Then, she dabbed her finger cautiously on his lip so the color was darkest on his inner lip and lighter on the outer edge.

[y/n] put the lipstick down to admire her work, cradling Fred’s face to see from different angles. Both of them were hyper-aware of how close they were, how [y/n]’s touches lingered on Fred’s jaw, and the way his hand remained firmly just below her hip.

“You look very pretty.” [y/n] breathed nervously.

Fred’s lips pulled into a smile and he murmured, “You look very pretty, too.”

Now both of his hands were on her hips and pulling her closer to him. [y/n] wrapped her arms around his neck and their mouths collided. Their lips moved together slowly and cautiously at first. But as they both relaxed and let the moment sink in, their movements became hungrier.

Fred had longed for the feeling of [y/n]’s lips on his for almost a year now, ever since she eavesdropped on one of Fred and George’s schemes and suggested they add glitter to an explosion for added effect.

[y/n] parted her lips slightly, allowing Fred’s tongue to playfully enter her mouth. She recalled the way she often caught him looking at her with an undeniable glint in his eyes. Sometimes it was in the castle corridor or midconversation. At first she didn’t understand it, but then the Hufflepuff beside her in class noticed it too and whispered, “Wow. Do you know what I would give to have a cute boy look at me like that?”

They pulled away from the kiss breathlessly. Fred’s hands slowly moved along the curves of her body and she dragged her fingers along his scalp. For a moment, they just looked into each other's eyes and basked in the exhilaration of it all. Then, [y/n] heard the door to the Common Room open and quickly moved to the chair beside Fred’s. He gave her one last cheeky grin before their time alone ended.

“Oi! What have you lot-” George greeted before stopping in his tracks and doubling over with laughter. “What did you let her do?” Lee exclaimed from beside him.

Fred turned crimson. [y/n] handed him a makeup wipe, but he turned it down. “I’ve been told I look quite pretty.” He folded his arms across his chest defiantly before standing to look at himself in the mirror above the fireplace.

“What do you think?” [y/n] asked as Fred came back to his seat.

Fred nodded, “I quite like it. You’ve done a good job.”

George scrunched up his nose a bit, thinking about how he would look the same as his twin with makeup, “Reckon it’s not an everyday look though?”

Both Fred and [y/n] chuckled before Lee spoke.

“Gee George, I don’t know if I could ever fancy a girl so much that I would let her put eyeliner on me.”

[y/n] turned to Fred, pretending to be shocked, “You fancy me?”

He just rolled his eyes in response.

”Hey [y/n],” George called as he followed Lee up the stairs to their room, “you’ve got some of Freddie’s lipstick on your face.”

[themonotonysyndrome]

Can you do some Sam and Bright eyes comfort headcannons? I love the idea of the tired old dad caring for his little goth gremlin 💕

Aww, I love it too, Anon! After that angsty Bright Eyes oneshot, let's have something wholesome for our semi-wild Newborn with their tired, single Vampire dad (don't worry about that second part. Darling is on the case!).

Also, I apologise for the delay, Anon. I'll add some more headcanons for these two tomorrow because I'm starting to have fun with writing these headcanons.

So let's get to it!

General Sam & Bright Eyes Comfort Headcanons:

First off, I kinda see Sam and Bright Eyes interacting with one another like oil and water.

They only start to properly bond only after Fred and Bright Eyes sort out their issues and Fred wants Bright Eyes to have people they believe can support them.

Sam's a good start!

Meanwhile, Sam will admit that he jumps the gun and treated Bright Eyes unfairly and wants a chance to redo their relationship.

To Sam, he sees Bright Eyes as someone who could become another Alexis; they're reckless, stubborn with a moral compass of a Russian roulette.

But he also starts to notice that they actually went the extra effort to maintain a good rapport and communication with Fred.

So Sam wants to help Bright Eyes channel their aggression in a healthy manner.

Bright Eyes doesn't make it easy though. The only reason they eventually relent is because of Fred's puppy eyes.

Sparring is the first activity that Bright Eyes enjoy having with Sam.

They took to it enthusiastically. Their eagerness and creative assaults keep Sam on his toes but he's having fun too!

While Bright Eyes is still working hard on verbally expressing themselves without lashing out at others, Sam's taken to study their body language like a dedicated student.

At the slightest discomfort or fear, Sam will smoothly intervene so Bright Eyes could retreat from the situation. They would always flash a tiny yet grateful smile to Sam before leaving.

Sam would also try his best to accommodate Bright Eyes so they could make his home theirs and Fred too.

Fred adjust well when he has his garden in Sam's backyard but Bright Eyes? It took them quite a while to stop asking for permission whenever they want to do something.

It's only when Fred secretly informs them that Bright Eyes is a Goth that Sam finally knows what to shop for them.

So the next time when Sam takes his Newborns for clothes shopping, he knows all the best shop and jewellery stores for Bright Eyes.

The shy and tsundere-like gratitude that Bright Eyes quietly said to Sam after their trip made him very happy.

But the adventure of one, tired Vampire Dad doesn't end here!

See, after Bright Eyes patch things up with Fred, they become very protective over him and once they did the same with Sam?

Yeah, after learning about Sam's bad blood with Alexis, you can bet this feral Goth Vamp will try to fight Alexis the moment these two meet.

Sam is super touched at the gesture but he quickly wrangles Bright Eyes before they could destroy his living room.

He has one protective Wolf Shifter, he doesn't need his Newborns to fight on his behalf too.

After all, it's the parent duty to protect his kids.

[unwritten-ravenclaw]

Falling - Fred Weasley

(gif credit to owner)

Summary: George accidentally injures Fred’s significant other during a quidditch match

Trigger warning: falling from a height, injury, descriptions of pain

A/N: So this didn’t turn out the way I had planned. Fred was supposed to get properly angry at George, but when it came to writing that part I couldn’t think of any points he could make because he could’ve easily done the same thing? I thought about sending the idea to a better writer but wanted to have a go at it myself.

Fred couldn’t remember a time he was this angry at his brother. He was torn between the ache in his heart for seeing you in pain and rage toward George for being the one to cause it. 

The quidditch match had been off to a great start. You and Fred were on rivalling teams and were determined to thrash each other. Being on opposite teams made it all the more fun for the both of you as you were both very competitive, and it was even more serious as this game was the final match of the season. Which was also the reason George was playing more aggressively than usual. 

George knew that despite your dating his brother, during quidditch matches you were the enemy, so it was fair game to smack a couple of bludgers your way. But, unfortunately for you, he was a little over-excited. When one of your team’s beaters knocked a bludger his way, George’s first reflex was to whack it at you, as you happened to be hovering nearby - too nearby. George had underestimated the distance between the two of you and had hit hard and fast. The bludger hurtled towards you with a dangerous amount of force and collided with your kneecap. You cried out as the red-hot heat of pain spread through you. With one leg suddenly incapacitated, you lost your seating on your broom and tipped sideways off it towards the ground. 

The scene kept replaying in Fred’s head like a broken record as he hurried alongside your stretcher on the way to the hospital wing despite McGonagall’s repeated instructions to do otherwise. You had fallen before anyone in the crowd - teacher or student - could mutter a spell to prevent it. Your body hit the ground with an awful thump. 

Fred had put the game from his mind the moment he heard you cry out in agony as the bones in your knee were smashed. Hearing that cry was like a punch in the stomach. He was the first to reach you, landing roughly and sprinting over, his own broom discarded in his haste. But when he reached you there was nothing he could do - or if there was, he couldn’t think of it. Your face was pale and tears rolled down your cheeks faster than he had ever seen. He wanted to comfort you but he was reluctant to touch you in case you had been hurt further in the fall. He was helpless, just crouching beside you and watching you half-writing in the sand, making gut-wrenching noises.

“I’m here, love,” he’d heard himself say pathetically, but he’d had no room in his mind for any self criticism in that moment. He looked frantically around to see some of the professors rushing over, and he felt a vice-like grip suddenly grab his hand. He glanced down to see your wet, scared eyes looking up at him, your body trembling with pain. “They’re coming.” He began to reach out for you nut stopped himself. He could already feel his arm going numb from how hard you were squeezing his hand but he didn’t care. “It’ll all be over soon, I promise.”

George landed nearby and rushed over too, spewing apologies toward you as he approached. Fred grit his teeth and held out his free hand toward his brother without so much of a glance over his shoulder - the gesture was a warning; stay back, I’ll deal with you later.

The teachers crowded around you, asking questions and preparing to move you. You wouldn’t let go of Fred’s hand even when they told him to be elsewhere, not that he would have left you anyway. Your knee still felt like it was on fire and the pain spread outwards through your body, making you feel as though you were simultaneously freezing and burning up. Breathing heavily you felt you might never catch your breath.

The stands had been almost emptied and the Gryffindor team had tugged George away. The staff were ready to move you and they had a hard time of it due to the fact that you wouldn’t let go of Fred, who was glad he had two hands because he’d had to swap them several times or risk his circulation being cut.

When you reached the hospital wing you were unconscious, and Madam Pomfrey made Fred wait outside the door. He stood there impatiently twisted his fingers. He hadn’t felt so stressed in a long time. George appeared down the passage, some of the team straggling behind him, and Fred remembered he was going to rip him one. However, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. In truth, he could’ve made the same mistake. The whole team had been eager to win, and everybody knew that quidditch was a dangerous sport. Besides, he knew you wouldn’t want him to be angry with his brother over something like this. George began to apologise again, but Fred pat him on the back and shook his head gently.

Once you were awake and had finished being tended to, Madam Pomfrey decreed that you could have one visitor. You insisted that you were fine again and again, but you deduced that it was George’s sad expression that caused her to surrender. When she was preoccupied, Fred drew the curtains around your bed so he could climb in next to you and pull you carefully into his side. Your knee was all strapped up over your quidditch uniform and your leg was propped up on a pillow. Leaning into Fred’s shoulder you gave him a weak smile.

George, meanwhile, had gotten to his knees alongside your bed. He had gotten out of his own quidditch gear and was now wearing a jumper and jeans. He took your hand from the bed and clasped it in both of his own, trapping it. 

“I’m so terribly sorry.” You’d been about to say something, but he gushed on. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I’ll give you all my sweets from Honeydukes. I’ll get Dumbledore to give you 300 house points. I’ll carry you to all your classes!”

“Oi,” Fred protested.

“George,” you said finally. “It’s alright, seriously. I’ll take it as payback for all the times I beat the pants off you.” Which reminded you of something. You looked up at your boyfriend, a little too fast; he went blurry for a few seconds. “The match?” 

Fred shrugged. “I didn’t ask.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Honestly, the quidditch cup was the last thing I was worried about.”

“Aww,” cooed George. His gaze fell to your wounded knee. “How is it?”

“Definitely not as painful now. Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to dull it.” Both boys looked sombre and were now quiet. It was unsettling to see them this way, as you’d rarely ever seen them so. “Hm, might be nice to have a loyal servant.” You looked down at George and narrowed your eyes.

Fred looked astounded at this, throwing up his free hand that wasn’t holding you. “Excuse me, what am I?”

You and George laughed. “Two, then.”

“I thought your boyfriend was going to knock my block off back there,” George told you. “I knew your relationship was hazardous.”

Madam Pomfrey returned once more to shoo the boys off and give you another potion, but somehow you convinced her to let Fred stay a little longer, that it would aid in your recovery. She allowed it, but walked away tutting.

“Gave me a real fright, you did,” he said quietly as you tipped the potion back and swallowed it with a grimace. This one felt like ants crawling down your throat and tasted faintly like pickled eggs. “Falling out of the sky like that. And the noise you made... I felt like I’d come face to face with a dementor; my whole body went ice cold. I never want to see you in pain like that again.”

Your chest tightened at his words, imagining how it would feel if it had been him and you had been helpless to stop his agony. Bringing your hand up to cup his face you kissed his lips, and when you tried to pull away he chased them for more. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips when he finally parted from you. The words had never been more true than now. 

“I love you too,” he returned with a soft smile, bumping your nose with his own.

You sank deeper against him as he interlaced his fingers with yours. Beginning to realise just how drowsy you were from the potion your eyes started to droop as his fingers twirled a strand of your hair. You hoped Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t come back for a while yet.

[wheelsupnthirty]

idiot | f.w.

fred weasley x fem!reader

EDIT: i found the tiktok after literally a year of searching lol,, vid credit i based this off of goes to @/ci.rius on tiktok!!

a/n: hi! this is sort of based off of a tiktok i saw where the creator talked to hermione about fred and angelina at the yule ball over an audio clip. i don't remember the creator, so if you find it please lmk! anyway, enjoy this lil wintery blab

tw: swearing, meantions of violence, shouting

---------------------------

the snow at hogwarts was always your favorite. the piles of white glittery fluff laying on the castle grounds never failed to amaze you, and this year, it was more beautiful than ever. you didn't know why that was, but the ginger standing next to you sure added to the scenery.

"isn't it lovely?" you said to him, your vouce dripping in awe. "i never want to look away!"

"yes it's quite beautiful y/n, but can't you admire it from your dorm window? i'm freezing my arse off out here!" fred replied with his hands tucked far into his coat pockets.

"you can go in, you know, i'm fine here," you said reassuringly.

he scoffed. "you really think i'm gonna leave you out here in the cold? by yourself? are you nuts?" he looked fake-shocked. "that would not be a very friendly thing to do, y/n, and i am a great friend, you know," he says matter-of-factly.

"you're an idiot, fred weasley," you said, attempting to hide the bitterness that struck your heart when he said "friend." you had been in love with the boy since your first year at hogwarts, when you were introduced by his younger brother, ron, whom you had become friends with on the train ride over. fred, however, seemed to be oblivious. he never was one for smarts, though. all this to say, you relictantly went inside, not without your counterpart receiving a soft punch to the arm, which resulted in a string of not-so-nice words.

---------

with the snow came the yule ball. every year you were too nervous to ask fred, and every year, he went with another girl. this year, though, you were determined to get him first. you had a plan this time around, and you had decided that, if it didn't work, you were cursed. you were going to ask him at lunch today, which just so happened to be after this period, potions. you had told your best friend, hermione, about your plan, and she was adamant to help you, but you wanted to do it on your own. reluctantly, she obliged.

this period seemed to take at least ten times longer than usual. you couldn't help but wiggle your quill in anticipation, waiting to be dismissed. then, something broke your focus.

"angelina!" fred had whispered. once she looked over he mouthed: "want to go to the yule ball with me?" your heart dropped. again? seriously? you hoped for a no.

she nodded and said "sure!" and you nearly crushed your quill in anger. hermione looked over at you with wide eyes. fred shot a huge cheeky wink at ron, they probably had a bet or something, you guessed. but it didn't matter. his smile only made your eyes well up with tears. you blinked them away and continued working on your assignment, albeit more aggressively than before.

you were silent at lunch, and everyone noticed, just your luck they paid attention today. you chose to play with your food, rather than eating it, and you were completely out of it.

"y/n," ron chimed, "did you hear me?"

"what? d'you say somethin'?" you mumbled.

"yeah, i asked if you were gonna eat that," he said, gesturing to your still-full plate. you silently nudged it over to him and went back to your previous activity of staring at the wall.

after lunch, you had a free period, which you chose to spend on the bridge outside, admiring the snow to distract yourself.

"hey," hermione said.

"jesus 'mione, you nearly made me piss m'self!" you said with your hand over your chest.

she laughed. "sorry, sorry, didn't mean to startle you. i just wanted to check on you. are you okay?"

"sure, yeah, i'm fine," you sarcastically replied. "the boy i've been in love with for 5 years just asked out yet another girl and i'm totally, one-hundred percent okay with it!" you said with a fake smile that you quickly dropped into a frown.

"yeeaahh," she said. "i figured."

--------

the next week seemed to pass slower than ever. you just wanted to get to the ball and get it over with, but the universe seemed to have it out for you.

you had a beautiful dress picked out, and, a week ago, you were thrilled to wear it, but now? you were dreading having to dress up at all. you had even considered ditching altogether, but hermione wasn't going to allow that.

"you're going, y/n, now get that dress on! i'll even do your makeup for you! go ooooonnn!" she insisted, slightly shoving you toward your wardrobe.

you sighed. "fine, i'll go, but i'm going to complain the whole time," you said with an eye roll.

"yes i am perfectly aware of that, now get dressed!"

an hour later, your hair was curled, your makeup done, and you were completely dressed to the nines. you had a silvery high-low dress that was adorned with small white gemstones on the boddess and neckline.

hermione's face seemed to glow with happiness. "you look absolutely STUNNING, y/n!" she hugged you tight and led you to the floor-length mirror in your room.

although you felt miserable, you did look quite pretty. pretty enough to make you grin a little. "seeeeee you're gorgeous!" hermione said. "now let's go, you'll totally make him lose it!"

you doubted that, but she pulled on your arm, leaving you no choice but to attend the ball.

your evening was quite shit to say the least. you spent it standing next to hermione swaying awkwardly to whatever song was playing, all the while sipping on some butterbeer to keep your hands busy. you kept glaring at fred and angelina, who had found their way to the dance floor.

"quit staring, y/n, you'll only make it worse for yourself," hermione said, giving you a knowing look.

you sipped your drink, still glaring. "why does she get him? i'm in love with him, shes just heartbroken. you know what i do when i'm heartbroken? eat cake. why can't she just eat cake and give me the pretty ginger boy?" you said bitterly.

hermione laughed. "he'll get it some day, y/n, just not today."

"it's never today," you said sharply, taking another drink. they looked like they were having such a good time, and you hated it. you should have been used to it by now, every year you had to see it, but this year felt worse. you had been so eager to ask him, but no, never you.

you decided you'd had enough of the so-called fun for the evening. you sat your cup down and promptly stormed out of the ballroom.

you decided to go to the bridge again to watch the snowfall. it really was beautiful, but you cursed it silently for remaining that way. you just wanted him to see you like he sees the snow. you wanted to make him feel as good as a good prank does. you wanted him.

"hey," you felt a hand on your shoulder, which prompted you to jump and curse.

"fuck! fred what the hell!" you pulled away from him and leaned on the bridge once more.

"sorry, figured i'd find you here. what happened? i saw you leave earlier. do i need to kill someone?" he said, genuinely concerned.

you laughed st the irony of his last comment. "don't worry about it, i'm fine," you said bitterly.

"y/n, come on, i've known you 5 years now, you're not getting off that easy."

"seriously, just leave it," you said with a warning tone.

"i'm not leaving till you telll mee," he said in a sing-songy voice.

you snapped. "why her?" you shouted, sharply turning to face him. "why her of all people? why not me, fred? what's she got that i haven't? can't you see i'm bloody in love with you? i've been standing here all this time and yet you never fail to snog everyone else but me."

he was dumbfounded. he just stared at with his mouth open. you waited for a response, but all you got was a stuttered, "y/n i-."

you scoffed and smiled up at the sky sarcastically. "whatever, fuck it, fred. forget i ever said anything at all." you turned around and made your way back to the castle. before you even made it half way down the bridge, you sobbed.

---------

two days had passed since the yule ball, and you looked terrible. you hadn't slept but two or three hours since then, your eyes were dark and surrounded with purple. your hair was messy, and, honestly, you just looked miserable, and you were. you hadn't talked to hardly anyone, and your friends were all worried.

"seriously, hermione, what's her deal?" ron had asked after passing you in the hall.

"she told fred," she whispered.

"oh no, it didn't go well, then?" he replied.

"obviously not, you git," harry said, shoving his friend on the arm.

"you've got to say something to him, ronald. she's extremely depressed!" hermione suggested sternly.

"right, and what am i supposed to say? 'hey fred y/n's in love with you, what are you gonna do about that?'" he asked.

"yes! exactly that!" she replied.

"alright, geez," ron said. "i'll talk to him."

----

"hey fred," ron said timidly.

"hello, little brother!" he replied, unexpectedly chipper.

"what's wrong with y/n," ron asked, pretending to not know. "you haven't talked to her, have you?"

his smile faltered. "she told you, didn't she?" he asked.

"well, not exactly. she told hermione, who told me to talk to you," ron explained.

"ah, i see," said fred. "well i'm not really sure what to do about it all. i mean, she was so angry! and loud! merlin was she loud."

"well, do you like her?" ron asked.

"well i love her. of course i love her, she's my best friend. but, to be honest, i don't know how to feel," fred replied. "i don't know if i just love her, or if i'm in love with her, or what."

"well, uh," ron tried to think of something to help. "how do you feel when you see her?"

"happy," he said. "anytime she comes around i get so giddy i can't help but laugh." he started to smile. " i get lost in her eyes, her laugh is contagious!" he looked at ron, who raised his eyebrows and gave him a knowing look.

"oh my god i'm in love with her!" fred realized.

ron nodded, "yep. you shou-"

fred cut him off "i should go tell her!" he ran for the door to go confess and apologize to his best friend.

"y/n! y/n! i've got to talk to you!" fred yelled as he ran in your direction. you were, once again, sitting on the bridge, coincidentally where you two had last spoken two days ago.

you stood up and pretended not to hear him. you didn't want to talk to him, especially not about the events that occured two nights ago. you heard him call for you again, and picked up your pace. you had begun to jog when he grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him.

"hey, fred, didn't see you there!" you laughed awkwardly, your eyes on the ground.

"y/n, can we please talk about it?" he asked, his eyes down on yours.

"what do you want to talk about? if you're just going to say 'i love you, but' or 'we're better amoff as friends', you can just turn and go back the way you came," you said plainly.

"i'm in love with you y/n. i didn't realize it before, and i was just shocked when you told me then, you were very loud," he laughed. "but really, y/n, i am in love with you, and i'm so sorry i upset you. your silent treatment was just awful, honestly. couldn't you have just hit me or something? it would have hurt less!"

you tried not to smile, but his was so beautiful, you had to. "you mean it, freddie? you're in love with me? this isn't another prank is it? if it is so help me god, weasley, i'll hex your nuts off," you said, pointing your wand at his chin and glaring.

"ah! no, no, i'm being serious!" he said in fake-shock.

"okay, then," you said, laughing. you put your wand back in your pocket and looked up at him.

after a moment of silence, he simply asked: "can i kiss you now?"

"you're an idiot, fred weasley," you replied.

he pulled you into a passionate, yet, sort of awkward kiss, and you melted. you had been waiting 5 years for this, and it was everything you could have ever imagined. you wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled.

"so they made up, then?" harry asked with a smile.

"i guess so, whatever you said must have worked, ronald," hermione praised. "well done."

ron fist-pumped into the air out of pride, and high-fived harry, all three laughing.

you looked over your shoulder to see all of them cheering. your face turned red and you laughed, too. "idiots," you said, before kissing fred once more.

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Secret’s Out || Oliver Wood

Character: Oliver Wood

Word Count: 3.2k

Requested: Yes @jensenslight​

Summary: After a few drinks too many at a party, you end up drunkenly confessing your feelings to Oliver Wood.

Warnings: Underage drinking, mentions of sex, swearing

Disclaimer: I did not make this gif, credit to the creative person who did

A/N: Holy crap, 9 freakin pages. I never expected it to get that long but it was honestly so much to fun write. Let me know what you think, your comments always make my day and keep me encouraged to continue writing <3

Please do not copy or steal my work. Reblogs are just fine :)

You laughed loudly with your friends, pushing through the crowd of students after the quidditch match. Thousands of footsteps thundered down the stairs of the stadium, the air filled with shouts of excitement and frustrated groans at the results of the game.

Gryfindor had won 230-110, crushing Slytherin and deflating their heads after the way they had pummeled the red and gold the year before. You stepped out of the stadium and almost instantly deviated away from where the rest of the mob was moving towards Hogwarts. Instead, you made your way towards the locker rooms, waiting for your friends Alicia and Angelina to come out. 

The locker room opened with a bang and you instantly stepped forward, ready to congratulate the girls, but instead found yourself face to face with Oliver Wood. 

He took a step back in surprise. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, sending you a small smile. “Waiting for Spinnet and Johnson?”

Involuntarily your heart raced and your cheeks burned red. “Uh hi,” you replied back awkwardly, “and uh yes, y-yes I am.” 

You wanted to slap yourself. Why did you always have to clam up around him? Why couldn’t you just speak like a normal person?

Oliver shot you an odd look, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Game good- I-I mean good game,” you quickly stuttered, your cheeks only darkening more. “You played well.”

His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Thanks,” he said, a slight spark of amusement in his eyes. “You going to the party later?”

You nodded, deciding that it would be safest if you didn’t speak around him. 

Whenever Gryfindor won there was almost always a wild party in the common room to follow. But the ones after Slytherin were always the biggest, loudest, and had the most alcohol. With your best friends being on the team, you never missed out on the after parties.

“Well I’m going to head up and shower,” Oliver said, running a hand through his hair.

You tried to keep yourself composed but couldn’t help but stare gawkingly at the way his muscles tightened against his shirt, which was slightly damp and see through with sweat. Oh how you wished you could be the one running your fingers through his air, kissing the lips that were turned up in a slight smile. You wanted him so bad, yet he could never know. You could never tell him the secret that you had been in love with him for the past three years. Only Alicia and Angelina could ever know that.

“I’ll see you later then Y/N,” Oliver said with a slight wave, before turning and heading up towards the castle, leaving you flustered, red faced, and heart racing, leaning beside the locker room door.

You watched him go, so drawn up in your fantasies and daydreams that you didn’t notice the locker room door open once more with Alicia and Angelina loudly stepping out. They on the other hand noticed you instantly, shooting each other a knowing look when they saw the direction in which you were staring.

“Did you two have a nice chat?” Angelina asked, causing you to jump violently.

“Merlin Ang, you scared me,” you said, placing a hand over your racing heart. “I didn’t even notice you two come out.”

Alicia threw a look in the direction Oliver had gone. “I wonder why,” she teased. 

“Oh him?” you asked, a bad attempt to feign disinterest.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N,” Angelina said, rolling her eyes. “Your face looks like a tomato and when we came out you were all but drooling over him.”

“I was not!” You defended.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, fine, maybe just a little,” you conceded.

“Or a lot,” Alicia muttered, laughing loudly as she dodged your shove.

“Shut up Spinnet,” you grumbled, knowing she never would.

“If you would just get the guts to talk to him…” Angelina tried.

“You know I can’t do that, Ang,” you said, the three of you beginning to walk back towards the castle. “I clam up and can barely form words when I’m around him.”

“We know,” they both said, having had to jump in for you and talk their way out of many awkward conversations with Oliver.

“Then you know why I can’t talk to him,” you said in exasperation.

“But what if he likes you back?” Alicia asked, “you’ll never know if you don’t woman up and speak with him.”

“Alicia,” you said pointedly, “he only ever sees me when I’m stuttering, red faced, and can barely form a sentence.”

She shrugged. “True, but stranger things have happened.”

~

Oliver stepped into the common room a half hour later to loud cheers and music. It seemed the entire school was there, somehow managing to fit into the small space.

Lights were flashing, music was pounding, and Oliver really hoped the quieting charms they had but on the walls of the room were working or they were sure to be busted.

Someone ran by him and he stretched out his arm to block them. He looked down at the third year, her hand clenching a red solo cup filled with whatever crazy alcohol concoction Fred and George had whipped up.

“I think you're a bit under aged,” Oliver said, plucking the drink from her hand.

Her eyes narrowed. “So are you,” she snapped back.

Oliver gave a slight nod of agreement. “Excellent point, but that sign over there says fifth years and above, and last I checked you don’t seem to reach those requirements.”

“Well I don’t give a fuck,” she spat, stamping her foot. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he sighed. “Head on up stairs before a prefect finds you. In a couple of years you can make your own rules.”

She sent him a rather rude gesture, before storming up the stairs. Oliver didn’t doubt she would try to sneak back down in a few minutes.

Angelina raised her eyebrows as a girl angrily shoved past her on the stairs. She looked out, noting Oliver standing there, rubbing his forehead with a sigh.

“Ruining the fun for someone already, Wood?” Angelina asked, plucking the drink from his hand and taking a sip.

Oliver turned, noting you and Alicia were a few steps behind her.

“It was a third year,” he said in exasperation.

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “You let us in back then.”

“Because you were on the team,” Oliver argued, “and like the deal we made with Potter, you weren’t supposed to drink.”

“As if we ever listened to that,” Angelina scoffed.

She took another sip from the drink. “Damn, the Weasley’s really out did themselves this time.”

“Y/N, Alicia, wanna go get a drink?” Angelina asked.

“Sure, why not,” you said, as Alicia nodded beside you.

The three girls stepped past Oliver, with you shooting him a small smile. He smiled back, causing your cheeks to flush red. Oliver noted that with a slight grin. He always found it cute when you blushed.

You reached the makeshift bar with Alicia and Angelina. Alicia, never one for drinking, grabbed a butterbear whilst you Angelina went straight for Fred and George’s jungle juice.

“You’re right Ang, it’s not bad,” you said, taking a sip. “Definitely better than that one they made after the Hufflepuff match.”

Angelina laughed. “That one was horrible! I swear I vomited all night.”

“All night?” you snorted. “You kept at it in McGonagall’s class the next day. I’ve never seen her so mad.”

You finished the rest of your drink and refilled. “Let’s dance Ang.”

Alicia sighed, she was always the one that had to chase after you two all night. Just a couple weeks ago she had to prevent Angelina from stripping, much to Fred’s dismay, when she got particularly drunk one night. She watched as the two of you ran out onto the small makeshift dance floor, swinging your hips and laughing loudly.

Almost an hour later Alicia began to notice the alcohol set in. She grabbed Angelina’s arm, preventing her from falling into the bar as she came over to refill her solo cup.

“I think that’s plenty, Ang,” she chidded, steadying her friend on her feat.

Angelina stuck out her lower lip. “Just one more?”

Alicia gave her a pointed look. “You’re drunk.”

“I know but I really really really really want to make out with Fred but I need another drink to do that.” She argued drunkenly, before bursting out in spontaneous giggles.

“Angelina…” Alicia tried halfheartedly.

“One more mom-” she let out another string of giggles- “just on more.”

Angelina reached an arm over Alicia’s shoulder, her now terrible balance almost sending them both tumbling into the bar, and grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Alica, make sure-” Angelina paused, gripping her friend's shoulders as she swayed from side to side. “-that if we end up have sex it’s not in front of too many people, okay?” She broke into another round of giggles, before hobbling back towards the dance floor.

Oliver watched from a few yards away, silently shaking his head at how bad his players looked right now. Both the twins were beyond wasted, and Katie Bell had passed out a few minutes ago. Even Harry, who Oliver had thought would be somewhat smart, had been convinced by the twins to take shots, and after a few cringes, had eventually gotten himself just as drunk as everyone else. Oliver almost had sympathy for him, as he wouldn’t want to be in his shoes when Hermione discovered him hung over the next day.

Oliver sighed, taking a sip from his butterbeer. Like Alicia, he didn’t drink.

Oliver heard a loud catcall from the other side of the room and turned back towards the dance floor where Angelina and Fred were kissing aggressively, seeming to almost be sucking each other’s faces off. He heard Alicia let out a groan.

Upon realizing he hadn’t seen the third musketeer in a while, he scanned the room, silently hoping you hadn’t taken after Angelina and were swapping spit with another guy.

Fortunately that wasn’t the case, and he instead found you stumbling back towards the bar, clearly struggling to stay up right.

You turned, feeling eyes on you. Your heart began to race upon noticing that Oliver was staringing at you. Changing course, you instead stumbled towards him, your brain not entirely aware what you were doing.

“Hi Oliver,” you slurred, “I haven't seen you since I got here.” 

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Were you looking?”

You giggled loudly. “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t,” you said coyly, poking his cheek.

Oliver’s eyebrow shot up in surprise by how forward you were.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked, eyeing you in concern.

“More than okay!” you exclaimed drunkenly. “I’m talking like a normal person. Did you notice?”

You are beyond drunk, Oliver thought, but if he was honest with himself he did think your overly bubbly personality was rather cute. He did miss the constant blush you usually had though.

“I did notice,” he said, trying to bite back a smile.

“Good, because I’m not usually like that, it's just when you-” You swayed violently, causing Oliver to reach out and steady you. “It’s just when you’re around.” You finished, taking another sip from your drink.

Now this had caught Oliver’s attention and, as bad as he felt about taking advantage of your drunken state, he asked, “Is that so?”

You nodded vigorously. “Believe it or not I’ve been in love with you since Angelina and Alicia joined the quidditch team, I just never had the guts to tell you.” You laughed loudly as if the action of spilling your deepest darkest secret was actually humorous. 

That was a lot more than Oliver had expected. “In love with me?” He managed to gulp out.

“Yeah,” you said, resting a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. “Angelina said today that I should talk to you, guess she was right.”

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. “Clearly you have had way too much to drink,” he said.

“Don’t worry about me, I have a high alcohol tolerance,” you slurred proudly.

You swayed on your feet, stumbling to catch your balance. Oliver quickly reached out to stable you, holding tightly to your hips.

“High tolerance my ass,” he muttered, deciding that he better get you sat down before you actually fell over.

You let him guide you to a chair, enjoying the feeling of his hand on the small of your back and the tingling sensation that came with it.

“See, I’m fine,” you stated, sitting up right in the chair. You took a long sip from your drink and toppled sideways, giggling madly.

Oliver lunged over to catch you. Propping you upright, he took the cup from your hand. “You are definitely done here,” he said, a light smile playing on his lips.

You stuck out your bottom lip. “Party pooper,” you pouted, “why did I have to fall in love with someone who ruins all the fun?”

He stared at you, the girl who had just confessed twice, without really knowing it, that she was in love with him. You were always the cute girl, the friend of Angelina and Alicia, the one who always seemed to be red faced and unable to speak without a stutter. How had he never seen it before? How had he been so oblivious? The way you looked at him now, lips pouted, eyes feigning sadness, he wanted to kiss you so badly.

“Are you okay Oli?” you ask, reaching out to touch his cheek.

Your words brought him back. “Oli?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“It’s cute,” you said, grinning proudly, “cute like you.” You poked his nose, but in the action of moving forward fell straight into his chest.

Oliver let out a chuckle, pushing you back into the chair. You gripped his arms for support.

“Damn,” you whispered, feeling his tightened biceps under your hands. 

Oliver looked down at where you were staring and couldn’t help but smile. He looked back up at your face. “You good?” he asked, once he made sure you wouldn’t fall over again.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “but…”

“But..?” Oliver prompted.

“But I really want to kiss you.”

Oliver took a small step back. If he had had any alcohol in his system that would have definitely sobered him up. 

He looked at you, the way your eyes were so hopeful. But he also knew you were drunk, and as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t do anything with you. At least not until you were sober.

“Let’s rain check that, Y/N, okay?” he finally said. “Wait until you’ll at least remember it happened.”

~

You woke up the following morning to a pounding headache and sudden need to vomit. After you came out of the bathroom you finally noticed Alicia, who was fixing her hair in the mirror.

“Where’s Ang?” you yawned flopping back onto your bed and trying to shield your eyes from the light. Everything was so bright.

“With Fred,” she replied simply.

“You didn’t stop her?” You asked, surprised. Alicia was usually the one to keep you two from doing anything stupid.

Alicia shook her head. “She told me not to, plus I was too busy watching you.”

You groaned. “Please don’t tell me I tried to give Jordan a lap dance again.

“Fortunately not,” Alicia giggled, before simply saying, “You were talking to Oliver.”

You shot up right then grabbed your head. Your pounding headache did not like the quick movement. “I did what?!” you exclaimed.

Alicia smiled. “It wasn’t that terrible. He even carried you up here afterwards for me.”

You looked down at your pajamas. You had not been wearing those last night.

Alicia knew what you were thinking. “Don’t worry, I put you in those after he left. I think the shirt you were wearing though is ruined, it had the jungle juice of Fred and George’s spilled all over it.”

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” you cursed, though you weren’t upset over the shirt. “Please don’t tell me I said anything bad to him.”

Alicia sighed. “Promise me you won’t freak out?”

“Oh Merlin,” you groaned, “don’t tell me I did it.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, “you kinda spilled the beans.”

“I could barely even talk to him before, now I can’t even be in the same room as him,” you moaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Why didn’t you stop me Alicia?”

“I was going to Y/N, believe me I was, but the way he was looking at you, caring for you, I knew he had to know, and there was no way you would have told him in any other way,” she sadly.

You turned to Alicia, wanting to be angry with her, but her sincere expression, the hope in her eyes, you couldn’t be mad at her for that.

“Cross your fingers your right,” you said quietly.

~

You stepped into the common room shortly after, a pair of sunglasses perched on your nose.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You jumped violently before turning with a feeling of dread to face Oliver.

“Hi Oliver,” you said quietly, falling into step beside him as he walked towards the portrait hole.

“No Oli?” he joked, letting you step through first before following you out into the corridor.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked.

Oliver shook his head with a smile. “Nevermind.”

You sighed. “I called you that last night, right?”

His face lit up in hope. “You remember?”

You shook your head. “Alicia filled me in this morning,” you said, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

It occurred to you then that that was the first time your face had turned red since being in close contact with Oliver. You hadn’t even stuttered once. Why that was the case, you didn’t know. 

“About that…” he said, trailing off, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You don’t feel that way? I know, it’s okay,” you said, shaking your head at the sheer awkwardness of the conversation. “I’ll get over it. Like Alicia said, at least you know.”

“Well, that’s the thing, I- I do.” 

That last part came out real quiet and you turned to him, eyebrows shot up in surprise, heart suddenly racing. “You do what?” you whispered in disbelief.

Oliver looked down at his shoes. “I do like you, Y/N,” he said quietly, “and have for some time.”

“Even when I can’t talk straight around you and was a drunk babbling idiot last night?”

His lips quirked up in a smile. “The babbling idiot part was actually rather entertaining for that matter.”

You stared at him, hope swelling in your chest as you looked at the boy you were madly in love with.

“You told me last night you wanted to kiss me,” he started, and your face turned red as the memory came back to you. “And I said-”

“Raincheck,” you finished, your heart rate quickening. “Such a gentleman to do that.”

Oliver took a step closer. “I’d like to cash that in now,” he whispered softly.

“Please do,” you breathed, looking up at him as he moved closer.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he gently pressed his lips against yours, his hands resting on your waist whilst yours looped around his neck.

This kiss was a thousand times better than you had ever imagined. You barely even heard George’s wolf whistle when he walked by, or when Angelina turned to Fred with a grin, saying, “That’s five Galleons, Weasley.” It was just you two, in the middle of the hall, and Oliver’s mouth moving against yours was all that mattered.