#Fem!harry james potter

[aikonajm5]

[1-Глава];○Fem!OC reader [OC: fem!Harry [Potter] x Fem!Tom Riddle

[0]-Глава:/[0.5]-Глава/[1]-Глава/[2]-Глава(скоро)

А/Н: Предупреждения; Грамматические ошибки, возможно ошибки в текстах. Читайте на свой страх и риск, ведь если что-то случится, я не несу ответственность.

Том Марволо Реддл:— Тэмми Марволо Реддл

Гарри Джеймс Поттер:— Генриетта Энни Лопес

—♡ Fem!OC reader [OC: fem!Harry [Potter] x Fem!Tom Riddle

—Данное произведение происходит в молодости Воландеморта, где он ещё не Тёмный Лорд. А еще он теперь девочка, смиритесь с этим.

╔════▣◎▣════╗

｡･:*:･ﾟ��,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆°•✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽•*,☆.·͙*͙˚* ✩ *˚*͙‧͙˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.·͙*͙˚* ✩ *˚*͙‧͙

Pov: !•?ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Женщина с раздражением на лице вышла из комнаты быстро и резко. А девочка по имени Тэмми, смотрела на Гарри с ожиданием, скрестив руки на груди.

Pov: Гарриˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Честно сказать, было даже очень тёплый приём! (Естественно это был сарказм). Я мысленно выдохнула и посмотрела прямо на Тэмми, и судя по выражение её лица, я ей не нравлюсь что было ожидаемо, не смотря на то что, смешно что маленькая и почти шести летний ребёнок, смотрить на тебя так строго что даже страшно. Я выпрямилась и ближе подошла к девочке, после остановилась в приличном расстоянии и протянула руку, слабо улыбнувшись закрыв при этом глаза.

Гарри: « Привет! Меня зовут Генриетта Энни Лопес, но ты можешь звать меня просто Гарри. »

Тэмми смотрела на меня с недоверием, и смотрела то на мою руку то на моё лицо когда я открыла глаза, все еще мягко и слабо улыбаясь. Девочка просто отвернулась и фыркнула.

Тэмми: «Тэмми Марволо Реддл...»

Хм... судя по её тону на её фамилию, она кажись презирает отца. Могу её понять в какой-то степени, мой был вообще отбитым, даже не смотря на то что иногда он и относился ко мне хорошо, но он все равно был жутким и ужасным. ЭТОТ ПРИДУРОК ДАЖЕ ХОТЕЛ ОТКАЗАТЬСЯ ОТ МЕНЯ ПОСЛЕ МОЕГО РОЖДЕНИЕ! После своих внутренних и быстрых мыслей, я убрала свою руку.

Гарри: «Рада знакомству леди Марволо, надеюсь мы с вами поладим.»

Лучше буду звать её так чем Реддл, и так видно что её фамилия от отца не нравится. Она снова на меня посмотрела и просто закатив глаза начала обращать своё внимание на книгу. Я пожала плечами и подошла к пустой кровати который находился в левой стороне комнаты, пока я устраивалась, Тэм заговорила.

Тэмми: «Слу��ай внимательно. Если ты сюда пришла, это не означает что я или кто либо еще в этом приюте будут с тобой хорошо относиться. Я здесь дольше тебя, и это комната моя, и я не стану чем либо здесь делиться. Если ты хочешь жить со мной, то старайся следовать моим правилам.»

Гарри: «Хорошо, как скажешь Марволо. Можно я сначала немного разберусь со своими вещами а правила ты мне после еды скажешь, идёт?»

Тэмми одобрительно кивнула и вернулась к своему чтению. А я, когда решила расставлять нужные мне вещи, начала мысленно успокаивать себя. Я конечно знаю что в 20х дети были... как взрослые, НО не настолько! Чтож, за то есть плюсы, Первое; девочка хотя бы может говорить внятно и понятно; Второе; Тэмми умна для своего возраста; и Третий; она просто очаровательная. Хаха, нет! Я не педофил... ну эм... Чёрт! Вот моё тело детское. И плюс ко всему, кажись и моя душа прилипает к детскому настроению. И практически и физически я ребёнок, ну и душевно немного наверное. Аааааагх! Я сама без понятии как работает эта реинкорнация! С одной стороны правильно и не правильно! Ладно! Это не имеет смысла!

Тэмми: «Эй! Ты хоть слышала о чём я тебе сказала?»

Гарри: «А? Что? П-прости Марволо, я не расслышала. Хехе.»

Тэмми лишь раздраженна выдохнула и закатила глаза что я до сих пор впечатлена её одновременно детским поведением а также взрослым жестом. Я начала нервничать из за того что меня будет отчитывать МАЛЕНЬКАЯ девочка! Тфу ты! Я аж покраснела от смущения!Тэмми встала с кровати положив свою книгу, и сказала мне когда завтрак, обед и ужин. И лучше нам обоим поспешить раньше всех, если не хотим остаться сегодня голодными. Я кивнула ей и быстро последовала за ней. И по дороге я начала расспрашивать её о разных мелочах. Например: Что тебе нравится? Какое хобби? И как живётся в приюте, да и прочее вопросы чтобы хотя бы знать часть того какие тут дети. Я даже умудрилась спросить её, знает ли она построение этого здание на что она немого удивилась посмотрев на меня. Но она с гордостью выпрямила грудь, будто на неё смотрят как на взрослую, и начала рассказывать где и какая комната здесь находиться. И скажу честно, это было слишком мило, я бы даже пос��орила на то что я бы с радостью хихикнула бы. Конечно большую часть здании и какие там комнаты она не знала, но знала часть.

Она даже рассказала мне что она тут с рождение. Родителей она даже не знает, мать умерла при родах, а вот отец неизвестно где. И даже за едой я слушала что она рассказывала, но увы не успела она произнести продолжение как после еды у неё заворчал живот. Она была настолько смущенна что её некогда бледная кожа покраснела что отвернулась от меня.Я просто усмехнулась и придвинула к ней свою миску с едой.

Гарри: «Не надо смущаться Марволо. Можешь взять мою порцию, я не особо голодна.»

Тэмми посмотрела на меня с недоверием и аккуратно потянулась за миской. Я с улыбкой придвинула миске к ней поближе, она кажись даже подпрыгнула от моих действии что мне пришлось её успокаивать.

Гарри: «Успокойся Марволо, я ничего не сделаю, обещаю. Бери, не бойся.»

Тэмми аккуратно посмотрела на миску то на меня, а после начала аккуратно есть. Не смотря на мои сочувствия этого времени, я бы вряд-ли что могла изменить. А вот заботиться... ну... я даже не уверена, но я начинаю думать что, заботиться и помогать своей соседке будет хорошо.Но вот что меня на данный момент беспокоит, это её фамилия... Марволо Реддл...Чеееееерт! Я не хочу думать! И так была насыщенная неделя, а вот голову ломать ради фамилии думаю может и подождать, верно?

Pov: !•?ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Гарри внимательно слушала то что говорила Тэмми, пока её не прервал грохот и громкого шума, которые исходил от поварешки об кастрюли которая держала М.Коул.

М.Коул: «Время в кровать! Пора спать, чтобы все были в своих комнатах! Если вы не успеете, будете спать на улице!»

В конце она прокричала и просто ушла. Все дети начали расходится а вот некоторые старшие дети ушли за пределы территорий приюта.

Гарри: «Она всегда такая шумная что даже дети сбегают?»

Тэмми: «Цыц... рано или поздно, это женщина будет гореть в аду...»

Гарри: «(Она такая мстительная... мне стоить волноваться?)— Ладно. Пошли в нашу комнату, не хотелось бы в свой первый же день нарушить глупые правила!»

Гарри усмехнулась и потащил за собой Тэмми в сторону дверей как им переградили путь, дети-хулиганы. Тэмми сразу напрягась, явно подозревала что задумали мальчики. Их было около пяти, Гарри посмотрела на них с пустым выражением лица, явно догадываясь что они хотят.

1-Хулиган: «Посмотрите ребята! Уродина нашла себе другую уродину, вы точно подходите друг другу, судя по вашим милым жестом~»

2-Хулиган: «Неужели нашла себе новое развлечение а, сорока?»

3-Хулиган: «Сорока как жизнь? Не думай что после твоей необычной силой, мы просто так отступим. Мы сломаем тебе руки а после ноги, ну или срежем тебе даже волосы! Заодно твоя подруга тоже может присоединиться.»

4-Хулиган: «Хэй, соседка сороки, давай лучше так. Держись подальше от этого монстра, и ты не пострадаешь, заодно останешся целой а мы предложим тебе защиту. Лучше присоединяйся к нам! С нами куда веселее!»

Все мальчишки посмеялись и давали друг другу пять. Тэмми сжала кулаки и стиснула зубы смотря на землю, Гарри вот не стала отступать и с нейтральностью смотрела на детей. Гарри сначала думала но усмехнулась делая шаг вперёд, Тэмми же просто стояла, смотря на Гарри. Она ожидала что её бросят и побьют, но что она не ожидала, это то что сейчас сказала Гарри.

Гарри: «Спасибо за предложение мальчики... но я думаю что компания Тэмми мне больше по душе. Знаете, вы мне очень сильно не нравитесь, а я девочка упрямая. Так что... лучше вам самим убраться отсюда, пока вы куски мусора не пострадали прямо здесь и сейчас...»

Все мальчишки вздрогнули а Тэмми с изумление посмотрела на Гарри, будто не веря своим ушам. Всё мальчишки начали злится и ближе подошли в сторону Гарри.

1-Хулиган: «Ты что-то сказала отребье? Можешь повторить а то я не расслышал.»

2-Хулиган: «Да, повтори лучше, а то ненароком муха пролетела мимо тебя!»

Гарри рассмеялась и убрала свои очки с лица, подойдя на шаг ближе к ним.

Гарри: «Оо~, так вы у нас не только тупые но и глухие! Эх бедные и жалкие дети, вам бы пора умытся, а то из за вашей жуткой вони, ваш мозг совсем перестал реагировать настолько, что вы выглядите как свиньи окупавшись в навозе.»

Гарри прищурилась на них, когда те залились красками, один из полных хулиганов потянулся за воротник девочки и начал кричать прямо ей в лицо что его слюны были разбросаны. Он начал оскорблять девочку, но Гарри хотела смеяться из за того что эти дети не умеют ругаться и внятно что-то произнести. Гарри вытащила платок с кармана и решила протереть вонючие слюны с её лица, после оттолкнула этого мальчика.

1-Хулиган: «Мы были к тебе достаточно добры соплячка. Ребята, пора её жестко наказать за её---»

Он был прерв��н одним ударом кулаком прямо в лицо. Тот отлетел на несколько метров и упал прямо в гряз, все мальчишки и включая Тэмми посмотрели на неё с изумлением, пока Гарри не ударила второго, а третьему вообще колено вывих, четвёртому было повезло меньше, ведь его лишили достоинства, вот пятый убежал. Гарри подошла к первому хулигану а Тэмми аккуратно последовала за ней. Гарри жёстко взяла его за волосы и подняла его лицо прямо на её уровне высоты.

Гарри: «Слушай сюда, ты жалкий полуфабрикат свиньи. Если я когда нибудь, увижу, узнаю о том что ты приставал к моей соседке, тебе не жить даже и половину своей жизни. Вздумаешь отправить своих скотов к нам, я без колебании отправлю тебя прямо в ад где тебе и место.»

Гарри последний раз сильно ударила прямо ему в лицо что тот лишился зуба и упал со страхом. Гарри выдохнула и вытерла свою руку своей салфеткой и кинула этот мусор прямо на этого мальчика. Гарри направилась на сторону дверей а Тэмми сразу за ней. У Тэмми было много вопросов, она хотела узнать Гарри ближе чем ей хотелось. Они оба шли по коридорам, но тишину прервала Гарри, которая остановилась и аккуратно подошла к Тэмми.

Гарри: «Ты как? В порядке?»

Гарри держала её руку что у Тэмми щёки порозвели, но быстро отмахнувшись, она повернула свою голову и выпрямилась.

Тэмми: «Я бы и сама справилась... и... в следующий раз предупреждай прежде чем начать драку. Ты дура! Ты знаешь это?! У тебя будут ещё больше неприятностей!»

Гарри: «И что с того? Знаешь, у меня нет желание быть побитым или стать предателем в первый же день. А ещё, мы же теперь сёстры!»

Тэмми вспыхнула от смущения, ей было одновременно очень приятно и одновременно не доверяла своей соседке, она на мгновение начала считать что девочка слишком глупа и прямолинейна, и ко всему прочему безрасудная, наивная и глупая девочка. Она начала задумываться а после возмущённо спросила.

Тэмми: «Чего? С каких это пор мы стали настолько близкими?! Ты не забегаешь вперёд?! Не думай что после твоей жалкой помощи с теми мальчиками, это улучшить отношение!»

Гарри: «Оу! Забыла что нужно время чтобы узнать друг друга поближе! Ладно, пойдём уже в нашу комнату змейка.»

Тэмми: «Не смей придумывать для меня прозвище!»

Гарри: «А вот уже поздно~ змейка!»

Тэм: «(Ты у меня заплатишь Лопес!!!)»

Тэмми с недовольством прорвалась вперёд, почти надувая губы, а Гарри просто смеялась сзади неё почти приобнимая её и без проблем увернувшись чтобы её не толкнули. Единственное что поняла Тэмми, это то что Генриетта Энни Лопес была самой раздражительной девочкой в её жизни. Она надеется что в будущем она уговорить её и сделает её своей пешкой в жизни.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

╚════▣◎▣════╝

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆°•✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽•*,☆.·͙*͙˚* ✩ *˚*͙‧͙˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.·͙*͙˚* ✩ *˚*͙‧͙☆▪︎¤

《Продолжение следует!》○●———>

А/Н: И так! Что ты думаешь о Потте---... эээ! Т-точнее о Лопесе Тэм?

Тэм: Она самая раздражительная девочка! Хоть она сильна, но вот ей благоразумие не хватает.

Гарри: (Мне Чёрт возьми 27 лет в душе! О каком благоразумие идёт речь! Обидно даже... хмпф!)

Тэмми: (Я же не стану признаваться что я немного ею восхищаюсь! К тому же... ей повезло просто, что, она мне немного понравилось!)

А/Н: (Они оба догадываются что прямо сейчас большинство читают их мысли? Может сказать им?)

[uramakimochi]

Y/N, smothering teen Harry and covering his face in kisses: My sweet darling boy i love you so much, you know that?

Harry, flustered: M-Mum...

Y/N: You are so soo beautiful. But you know what the bad thing is??

Harry: What...?

Y/N: That i carried you nine months, NINE, in my belly and you?? *takes his face in her hands* You DARE to be the exact copy of your father!?

James, looking at them offended: Is it really supposed to be a bad thing???

Y/N: *tightly hugs Harry* You're perfect~

- BONUS IF Y/N HAS BROWN EYES LIKE JAMES -

Y/N, crying: He doesn't even have my eyes! That's so unfair! It's just a James 2.0!!

Harry: I'm sorry mum...

Y/N: It's not your fault sweetheart. It's your stupid but handsome father's...

James: I don't understand my love, was that a compliment or an insult??

If James Potter has no haters it means his wife is dead.

MILFPOTTER!READER SERIE:

previous / next

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[agreeewrites]

hi congrats on 1000 followers!!!! i seriously love your work sm the bill weasley magic lessons series altered my brain chemistry. idk if you write for aged up harry potter but if you do can you please write “1000 tears” with harry i love him in deathly hollows era when he’s all angsty and it’s soooo good when people write him to have a crazy reunion with the reader when he gets to shell cottage after saving them from malfoy manor it’s always giving peak hormones lol

hi love!!! tysm for the request, and I'm so glad you enjoyed Magic Lessons! angsty Harry is also my favorite, so I had a lot of fun with this one. Hope you enjoy! 🤍

1000 tears | H.P.

feat. Harry Potter x reader

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, love confessions, war stuff, mentions of blood/injury, angsty Deathly Hallows-era Harry, friends to lovers, reader has an implied close relationship with Remus and Tonks (parental), Dobby lives bc this is my fic and I can do whatever I want

masterlist

You sat curled up in your bed, knees to your chest, and stared at the crack in the bedroom door. Lupin had sent you to your assigned room with a piece of chocolate an hour prior, insisting you try and get some rest. But you couldn't even get yourself to lay down, the chocolate lying untouched on the bedside table.

You'd lost track of how many tears you'd shed.

Harry was out there, having disappeared while searching for a Horcrux with Ron and Hermione hours and hours ago without communication. He refused to let you go with them, having all but begged you to stay behind at Shell Cottage.

Where it's safe, love.

And now, you had a bone-deep feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. It wasn't like Harry to not send any kind of communication, and if he couldn't, Hermione always did.

Things between you and Harry were…complicated. You weren't together. Who would be reckless enough to start a new relationship in the middle of a war? But the connection between you was strong, having grown from a schoolyard crush to an all-consuming devotion over the past few years, and you knew Harry felt it too. But there were more important things to worry about at the moment—romance could wait until after the war. If there was an after.

The clock ticked audibly on the wall above your head.

This was ridiculous. You couldn't just sit here. If Harry thought something happened to you, nothing would stop him. Not Lupin, not Molly, not Moody—

A crash and a wail echoed through the silent house. You immediately recognized the cry as Dobby’s, and jumped out of bed, grabbing your wand from the night stand.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the closed door, turning the ancient knob as quietly as you could. Wand raised, you pulled open the door, stupify on the tip of your tongue.

“What on earth happened! And where have you been?!” Molly bellowed, and you paused in the hallway.

“Malfoy Manor,” you heard Ron reply just before Dobby loosed another shriek of pain.

“Harry Potter saved Dobby! Harry Potter is Dobby's hero!”

“It’s alright, Dobby—let go—Dobby, they have to—”

You flew down the stairs and around the corner, finding Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Molly, and the wounded House Elf crowded into the foyer. Harry was trying to gently pry the bleeding Dobby from his pants leg, his handsome face smeared with dirt and blood, expression tight with frustration and exhaustion.

But he was alive.

“You're supposed to be asleep,” Lupin scolded, noticing you hovering in the hall, and Harry’s head snapped up, green eyes melting with relief.

“Dobby and Hermione need a Healer,” Harry said, his gaze locked on you. You could tell he was white knuckling his self-control, trying to stay calm and prevent the terror from whatever just happened to them spread to the rest of you.

“Good thing I was awake then,” you replied, giving Lupin a pointed look as you moved into the crowded foyer. You stooped to survey the House Elf's injuries. A blade had grazed his side, blood blooming beneath his tunic, but it was shallow. “Episkey,” you murmured, and the wound knitted itself most of the way closed, ceasing the bleeding.

“Oh, thank you Miss Harry Potters friend! Thank you!”

“My pleasure, Dobby,” you sighed, pushing to your feet.

You hadn't realized how close you were to Harry, too focused on healing Dobby, and now we're standing nearly chest to chest, nose to nose.

The look on his face knocked the air from your lungs. His usually serene eyes were burning, heavy-lidded and bruised with exhaustion. He smelled of smoke and the sting of dark magic, his black hair tosseled and knuckles bloody.

His index finger brushed the edge of your hand, so light you almost thought you'd imagined it, and you swallowed a shudder, your body reacting as if he’d done something cataclysmic.

Everything in you wanted to throw your arms around him and kiss the pain away, steal it all for yourself so he'd never have to suffer under the burden of responsibility again—but you resisted.

“Boys, can you get Hermoine into the kitchen?” you asked, shifting to step away before you completely lost focus.

For a split second, Harry’s index finger hooked your pinky, wanting to keep you close, but he quickly dropped his hand and turned to his friends.

“C’mon then, hold onto me,” Harry said, crouching down to their level. Hermione looped an arm around Harry's neck, the other already around Ron’s waist, and together they lifted her up.

She groaned, her head lolling onto Ron's shoulder, but protested no further as they carried her into the kitchen and set her gently onto a chair.

“Don't overtax yourself,” Lupin warned, catching you before you left the foyer. “Be smart.”

“I'm fine, Remus,” you bit, pulling away from him.

You followed them into the kitchen, pretending not to be jealous at the easy contact between Harry and Hermione. You knew there was nothing romantic between them, and you loved their friendship. His depth of love for his friends was one of the things you admired most about him. But her ability to touch him so freely, a luxury you could only imagine, made your stomach twist.

To distract yourself, you set to work making some tea and preparing your supplies. Usually, the three of them would chat amongst themselves, strategizing, reminiscing, poking fun, but they were strangely quiet. The house sat heavily around the four of you, the silence almost tangible, broken only by the cottages occasional creak and groan.

When you set Hermione’s tea in front of her, made just the way she likes it, plus a pinch of goldenrod for the pain, she barely managed a whispered ‘thank you’. Her face was buried in the crook of Ron's neck while he held her close.

Oh, how lucky they were to be loved out loud, even if they hadn't admitted it to themselves yet.

Harry was leaning against the counter, eyes flitting anxiously between his friends and you, so you poured him a cuppa as well.

When you brought it to him, intending to set it on the counter beside him, he instead reached out to take it from you. His cool fingertips brushed yours over the heated ceramic. “Thanks,” he murmured, voice gravelly.

“’Course,” you said through the tightness in your throat. His touch lingered a moment longer before he brought the warm cup to his chest.

You set up your supplies and sat beside Hermione, gesturing for her to set her injured arm on the towel you laid out. She obliged, grimacing when the drying blood pulled at her skin.

As gently as you could, you used a rag soaked in warm water and antiseptic to clear away the blood. You nearly recoiled when the injury revealed itself.

Mudblood.

“Hermione, what—” you gasped.

“Bellatrix,” Ron hissed. “Tortured her while we were locked up.”

You were speechless, shocked to your core, and instinctively turned to Harry, but he was looking at Hermione's arm, eyes swimming with pain.

“I'm so sorry,” you whispered, turning back to Hermione.

She shook her head, dismissing your sympathy. “Just do what you can,” she said through gritted teeth. “Please,” she added.

So you did. Bellatrix had used an enchanted blade, so the word would scar, but with some time and attention, you were able to get the wound partially healed, and most importantly, the pain under control.

At one point you had urged the boys to go get cleaned up, their brooding energy weighing on your heart, but neither budged an inch. Ron stayed glued to Hermione’s side, catching every one of her tears, while Harry hovered over your shoulder, only moving away when you needed something, like fresh gauze or a refill of your tea. A strong herbal blend you developed to keep you focused during long nights spent studying in the common room.

It had come in handy more times than you cared to admit since the war began.

You secured the last bandage around her forearm, and looked up to find her asleep on Ron's shoulder, his head leaned against hers, eyes closed.

The roll of gauze was lifted from your hand, and you felt Harry's heat at your back. Even blindfolded and deaf, you'd be able to sense him anywhere.

“What are you—”

“Cleaning up,” he replied. “You've done enough.” His tone was gentle but firm, and you rolled your eyes.

“Me? I've been sitting here for days while you—”

“And I'm sure you worried yourself half-to-death,” he cut you off, and you clamped your mouth shut. “I can put away some bottles while you rest for a second,” he said, grabbing the vials from in front of you.

“Can't help but worry about you,” you muttered petulantly.

Harry's footsteps paused just behind you, and your breath caught in your throat. Then, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, warm and solid and home, and he buried his face into the curve of your shoulder.

“Please don't,” he whispered, exhaling a shaky breath. “Because if you ever asked me to stay—”

“I would never ask you to stay.” Tears burned behind your eyes, heart aching with relief and something too similar to grief to bear another name. You twined one of your hands with his, the other coming up to tangle in his dark waves. “That’s why I asked to go with you.”

His grip tightened. “I would never ask you to go.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I know.”

Ron stirred, and Harry slid his arms from around you, leaving you cold. You wiped the tears from your face before he could see them, though you had no doubt he knew they were there.

“Ron, you gotta take Hermione to bed,” Harry said, shaking his friends shoulder, and Ron came fully awake.

Ron gave a grunt in acknowledgment, then lifted Hermione into his arms, cradling her against his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world. “Thanks, mate,” Ron said to you, nodding his head.

“No need to thank me. Just glad you're all alright,” you replied, waving him off.

“Me too.” He glanced at Harry, something unspoken passing between them, before turning and carrying Hermione down the hall to her room.

The silenced stretched between you until it became unbearable. “I guess I'll head to bed before Lupin bites my head off,” you joked, though it landed flat.

Harry, sweet, always supportive Harry, gave you a weak smile anyways. You knew he wouldn't ask you to stay up, even though he'd likely be up until sunrise, but it still hurt when he answered with a single nod and turned away, walking into the living room without another word.

You had just climbed into bed when there was a knock on your closed door. Wiping away the tears that had collected once again, you pulled open the door, fairly certain you would find Lupin or Tonks standing there, ready to scold you for not going to sleep when your were told.

Harry stood in the dark hall, his glasses reflecting the silver moonlight like coins. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Sorry? For wha—” Harry pushed through the door, directly towards you. You barely had time to gasp before he was grabbing your face and hauling you in for a messy, breath-taking kiss. He kicked the door shut with his foot, the bang a little too loud for the quiet house, but Harry didn't falter for a second. You barely heard it though, your ears ringing as your blood rushed under your skin, your mouth moving instinctively against his, matching every desperate push and ravenous pull.

His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips and tangling in your hair and pressing at your back, like he wanted to fold you under his skin, fuse your bodies together in every way imaginable.

“Harry,” you whimpered when he broke the kiss to breathe, your lungs burning along with the rest of you. It took you a moment to register that he was crying. “Harry, what—”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—I couldn't—” a strangled sound cut off his words and he sank to his knees, his grip on your hips going slack. “I tried, I—”

“I-I don't know what you mean,” you said, fighting back your own confused tears as you stroked his hair, his face buried into your abdomen.

“I thought I could wait, could keep you from getting too close, but I—I can't.” Harry looked up at you, pain-stricken face streaked with tears and glasses crooked, his mouth pulled down in a sorrowful curve. “I need you, but I can't risk losing you.”

You lowered yourself to his level, taking his face in your hands and drying his tears with you shirt sleeve. “You aren't going to lose me,” you tried to soothe, but your own emotion made your voice tremble. You both knew that it was entirely possible one or both of you would die in this war. Countless others had, and if love could overpower mortality…so many lost would still be living.

He shook his head. “If they know about you, what you mean to me—they'll—” another sob ripped from his chest, and it felt like it ripped out your heart with it, the sound so agonizing you wanted to cover your ears. “What they did to Hermione—I can't hear you scream like that, I can't—”

You were left speechless, crushed under the weight of what your friends, your Harry, must have experienced. Had one thing been different, he wouldn't here right now, in your arms where he belonged. You never would have kissed him, never would have held him, never would have known—

“Just tonight, then,” you whispered, watery and half-pleading. “Just one night, Harry, please.”

“I don't want just one night,” he snapped, though you know his sudden anger wasn't directed at you. “I don't want to wait. I don't want to fight. I don't want to be Harry fucking Potter. I just—” his breathing was labored, his jaw flexing under your palms. “I just want to be yours.”

“Harry—” your voice caught on the words, so used to swallowing them that speaking them felt as foreign as it did exhilarating. “Harry, I love you.” His eyes squeezed shut, his breath hitching. “In my heart, you're mine. You're my Harry.”

He opened his eyes, their green brighter than you'd ever seen it, stark against the red of his lids and black of his damp lashes. “I love you too. So fucking much,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your inner wrist, up your forearm until he reached your lips, molding them together in a timid, salt-licked kiss.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer, and he quickly reciprocated, deepening the kiss until it reached the same fervor as before. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, racing alongside yours as he reached behind you and yanked your quilts and duvet onto the floor.

You were about to ask why when he kissed his way down your neck, leaning you back onto the pile of blankets. His body weight was warm and delicious pressed against you, filling a space long empty in your chest, and you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“So soft,” he murmured, nursing a spot under your ear that made you gasp, the sound twisting into a breathless moan. His hips canted forward in response, an involuntarily flex of muscles, and he whined. “Sorry, lovely. I'm so sorry—”

You silenced him by dragging his mouth back to yours and kissing him as fiercely as you could. Testing the waters, you rolled your hips against his, fiending for even a little friction, and it was his turn to gasp. You seized your opportunity and licked into his mouth, chasing his tongue with yours, and he completely melted into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands sliding under your shirt to paw at your bare skin. He kissed back down your neck, teasing the sensitive spot he found and making you squirm. You felt him hardening rapidly against your hip, losing his breath every time your hips bucked into his.

“Harry,” you pleaded, not entirely sure what you were asking for, only that you needed more of him. All of him.

He grunted when you shifted to roll your hips directly against the bulge of his cock, the thin fabric of your shorts doing little to mask the rough texture of his jeans. One of his hands slipped from your body to undo his pants, his weeping, flushed cock springing free and slapping against your lower belly.

“Baby, I need to—Merlin, I'm so sorry,” he panted against your neck as he pulled your shorts and panties to the side. He spread his fingers through your slit, exposing your drooling pussy to the cold air of the room. He plunged one finger in, then another, stretching you with quick, deliberate strokes that had you keening.

“Please fuck me, please, please, please,” you babbled, digging your nails into his back when he withdrew his fingers to fist his cock, dragging the head through your slick and coating himself in your honey.

“Baby, fuck, you're so wet. My good girl, yeah?” He peppered your throat and chest with kisses, like he was atoning for some great sin while he pushed that first few inches into your tight heat. You cried out, and he clamped a hand over your mouth, startling you both. “Sh, sh, have to be quiet f'me. I’ll be gentle, but I just need to—” His hips stuttered forward another inch when your gooey walls clamped around him. “Fuck, lovely, I'm sorry, you just feel so—”

You lifted your hips and he slid a bit deeper, sinking nearly half-way into the wet grip of your cunt, and he made a pained sound in his throat, your own mewl muffled by his rough palm. Your whole body was humming with pleasure, like he was ripping through the dark curtains of your soul and letting the light finally spill out.

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” He rested his forehead against yours, biting the back of his hand covering your mouth to keep from crying out as he pushed deeper, almost there. “I love you, and I'm trying to go easy but saints. You make it so hard to be good.”

You nodded desperately, locking your eyes onto his and trying to convey what you wanted. I know you love me, but fuck me like you hate me.

His eyes searched your face. “Tell me what you want, love,” he said, removing his hand from your mouth to grip your jaw.

“I don't want to hold back anymore,” you replied, voice breathy and high.

Something in him snapped. His hips thrust forward, his pelvis smacking against yours as he finally bottomed out. His cock kissed your cervix, the stretch bright and delicious.

“Fucking hell, you're so goddamn tight,” Harry growled against your neck, grinding his hips against yours. You'd be shocked to hear him speak so roughly, but you were on another planet, nails carving lines down his back as you clung to him.

His fingers dug into to meat of your thigh, lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist, helping him drive even deeper as he started pounding into you. Long, deep strokes that had your mind-melting, toes curling, and a too-loud cry slipped free.

“Baby,” he scolded, covering your mouth again and slowing down his thrusts.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled against his palm. “Please don't stop.”

“Have to be quiet, okay?” He removed his hand, pressing a soft kiss to you lips. “Lupin will kill me.”

“Lupin can bite me,” you giggled, pulling him back down for another kiss.

Harry smiled against your mouth, his teeth catching your lower lip and tugging gently. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the air out of your lungs as pleasure bolted through you. “He'll have to go through me first,” he purred.

Seeing this more assertive side of Harry was doing funny things to your brain and your heart, your pussy fluttering around his iron length.

Was this what it was like to be his?

You pushed at his shoulder, throwing your leg to roll him over, landing in a straddle over his waist. His eyes widened in surprise, but quickly rolled back when you circled your hips, his length hitting an entirely new angle inside of you.

He tugged his shirt off, then yours, pulling you flush down against him as he fucked up into you, too impatient to hold still.

He was hitting it just right, abusing that soft spot inside of you that made your eyes cross, and you could feel your release rapidly approaching.

Sweat collected between you as your furiously ground your hips together, fucking each other with everything you had. Completely lost in the feeling of one another, desperate to push the other over the edge. The lewd slap of your sopping pussy was driving you both crazy, heightening the risk of being caught substantially, but you were too far gone to care anymore.

“Need you to come for me, baby. Please. Need to feel you, before—fuck, that's it, I’m so close—” Harry managed to get a hand between you, his middle finger making quick circles over your clit. His hips snapped up a final time, and you both were done for.

Your orgasm exploded through you, whiting out your vision with searing pleasure, and you buried your face in his neck to keep from screaming his name.

He bit down on his fist, a grunt of pleasure escaping as he continued fucking you, his thrusts growing languid and sloppy as your cunt milked him dry.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” you whined in his balmy skin, twitching and shaking in his arms as he finally sagged against the ground.

He removed his hand from his mouth, pinpricks of blood emerging from the wounds he'd sustained earlier reopening. “Saints, I love you so much. You're so beautiful,” he panted, kissing along your sweaty hairline. “Did so good for me, my lovely girl.”

“I love you too,” you sighed happily, nuzzling into the space under his jaw and brushing your lips against his light layer of stubble, letting your body relax into his.

He ran his fingers through your hair, holding you close as he caught his breath, the two of you basking in the afterglow.

“I meant what I said—anyone that wants to hurt you will have to go through me first,” he murmured after a few moments of quiet, his voice turning serious. “I'll do everything I can to protect you.”

You pushed yourself onto your elbow, meeting his eyes. They were shadowed with uncertainty, a bit glassy with collecting tears. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his thumb smoothing a long your kiss-stung lips.

“Whatever happens, this will be worth it,” you said, trying to inject as much conviction into your voice as you could, though seeing his tears brought your own back to the surface. “Even if this is the only night we get, it's worth the risk.”

He nodded, bringing your lips together in an airy, tearful kiss. “You're worth fighting a war for,” he whispered, catching your tears with his thumb. “And I'll get you to the other side of it if it's the last thing I do.”

You shook your head, burying it into his neck as a sob forced it's way up your throat. “I’d rather you take me with you.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, his grip tightening as he forced your head up again. “You have to promise me that no matter what happens, you'll live to help build what comes next.” You started to shake your head again, but he didn't let you. “Promise me.”

“I can't—”

“You can. And you will. This world is better with you in it, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours. “And I'll promise to do everything I can to stay with you.”

You drew in a shaky breath, your heart so full you could hardly breathe. “I promise, Harry.”

He flipped you beneath him, molding your lips together like it would set your promises in stone. “No more tears,” he murmured. “Tonight, we’re celebrating.”

© agreeewrites 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[blondykebarbie]

Darling Boys

James Potter x fem!reader; Harry Potter (son) x reader (mom); James Potter (dad) x Harry Potter (son)

CW: FLUFF; one mention of food

Summary: You’re shocked when your son wants to spend time with you.

****

It’s a cold Friday evening and by a rare chance, you have the house entirely to yourself. James is out having drinks with his friends and Harry is over at the Burrow. The silence is a little eerie, but you are also enjoying the peace. You’ve got a glass of wine in hand and a movie on while you’re snuggled up on the couch under the thick wool blanket Molly knitted you for Christmas. You don’t expect either of your boys to be home anytime soon, so you’re surprised when the flames of the fireplace burn green and Harry comes stumbling out. You sit up in your seat, wine sloshing a little in your glass.

“Haz? What’re you doing home so early?”

Your son wipes his feet on the rug- set out for any ash- and shrugs, “felt like calling it an early night.”

Your brows furrow, “hmm, really? Is… everything okay?”

Harry’s eyes widen and he nods, “yeah, Mum, I’m fine, really. Just wanted to be home. Is that okay….?”

You observe your boy’s face for any hint of deception but can’t spot it, “okay, sweetheart. Well you know I’m always glad to have you home.”

He smiles at you and slides his shoes off, leaving them in his already small pile. You don’t think to nag him about it.

His eyes trail to the screen and to you, comfy on the couch, “whatcha doing?”

“Just watching a movie and having some wine. Thinking about ordering a pizza soon. Have you eaten?”

Harry laughs, “I was at the Burrow. Of course I ate. But… can I join you?”

Surprise complicates your features- Harry’s far from a rom-com enthusiast and you were certain he’d gotten too cool to hang out with his old mom. Of course, you don’t say that, happy to take any quality time he gives you.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You sit up and scooch over on the couch, offering him a place underneath the blanket. He joins you and your heart melts in your chest. You side-eye him one more time and then press play on the movie, a small smile playing across your lips. The two of you watch the movie for a few minutes in silence.

“Mum?”

You look over at Harry, “yes, Haz?”

He fidgets nervously for a second, “uh- can- uhm…” he pauses and sighs before shaking his head, “can I lay with you?”

You think you’re going to die on the spot. Not only does Harry want to spend time with you, he is asking for physical affection, and who are you to deny your baby.

“Sweetheart, yes.”

You hope you play it cool.

You lay back and Harry crawls in between your legs, laying his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and kiss his head gently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Harry stares up at you with your own eyes, “yes Mum, really. I just… well I just missed you.”

You audibly coo and your son blushes in embarrassment.

“Well, I’m glad to have you here, sweetheart. I love spending time with you.”

He hums and hugs you, “I love you, Mum.”

You run your hands through his hair and his eyes flutter shut. Just like his father.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

The movie plays on, Harry staying cuddled up to you. He watches the movie for a bit, but your fingers running through his hair sends him to sleep quickly.

An hour later, the front door opens and your husband comes in quietly. He pads into the living room, smiling at you as he sees you cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. James moves to kiss you but freezes when he realizes you’re not alone.

You put your finger to your lips to shush him, eyes trailing down to your son fondly.

James’ eyes soften at the sight, “baby… what’s he doing here? I thought he’d be out still.”

“Said he missed me,” you murmur, voice thick with emotion and joy.

James smiles at you, heart melting at the sight of his two most treasured people so happy and together. He kisses your head and then ruffles Harry’s hair gently.

Harry stirs slightly and you wince, fearful that the moment is over.

“Dad?” Harry croaks softly.

“Hey Haz,” James murmurs, love oozing from every word.

Harry sits up and your heart breaks, sad that your quality time with your son is already over.

“Will you join Mum and I?”

Your heart bursts into a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“Of course. That’s the best question ever.”

You soon find yourselves in a familiar arrangement- one you hadn’t realized would be gone until suddenly your boy had grown up. James sits against the couch and you’re between his legs, laying against his chest. Harry is between your legs, laying curled up against you. It’s just like it was when he was little, and your eyes swell with happy tears.

“I love you both, my darling boys.”

[thatdammchickennugget]

Just My Luck

pairing - james potter x fem!reader

summary - you get stuck in a shed with your quidditch captain

warnings - gryffindor!reader, quidditch player!reader, kinda grumpy x sunshine vibes

a/n - week one of hogmarch! using the dialogue prompt "if we're stuck here, we might as well make the best of it"

wordcount - 2.3k

The last thing you wanted was to be stuck alone with James bloody Potter.

And yet, here you were.

It had been a long, grueling practice, made worse by the fact that you were forced to take orders from James—James of all people—because he was Captain now, and you weren’t. You were still bitter about it, still fuming over the decision McGonagall had made at the start of the season.

Not that you had wanted to be Captain, necessarily. But if anyone deserved it, it was you. You had been on the team since second year, worked your ass off every season, knew how to run drills better than anyone. And yet, somehow, James—show-off, golden boy, bloody Potter—had been the one to get the title.

And of course, he was obnoxiously good at it.

You huffed under your breath, gripping the heavy crate of practice Bludgers tighter as you trudged toward the equipment shed.

James was beside you, carrying the other half, his usual, infuriating grin still plastered across his face despite having spent the last two hours barking orders at the team.

“Y’know,” he said, effortlessly adjusting his grip like the crate weighed nothing, “if you weren’t so busy glaring at me during practice, maybe you’d actually manage to listen to the strategy I was explaining.”

You shot him a glare that could have set his broom on fire. “Oh, sorry, Captain. Next time I’ll be sure to hang onto every brilliant word that comes out of your mouth.”

James just laughed, completely unaffected, his hazel eyes bright with amusement. “That’s all I ask.”

You groaned, shaking your head as you reached the shed. He had this way of getting under your skin—like an annoying little itch you couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t just the fact that he was a talented player or a natural leader or that he made Quidditch look so damn easy.

No. It was the fact that he knew all of this, and he enjoyed pushing your buttons about it.

The two of you set the crate down inside the shed, the worn wood creaking under the weight. You turned to grab the last few Quaffles, and James, ever the show-off, tossed his into the storage bin without even looking.

“That was luck,” you muttered.

James smirked. “That was skill, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, about to retort, when—

Click.

The sound was so quiet that it almost didn’t register. It wasn’t until you turned back toward the door, reaching to grab another broom, that you realized it had swung shut behind you.

You frowned.

James frowned too, as if the same realization was dawning on him at the exact same moment.

Slowly, you reached for the handle and twisted it.

It didn’t budge.

You twisted harder.

Still nothing.

There was a beat of silence.

James blinked. “Did you just—?”

“It’s locked,” you said flatly.

James let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s funny.”

You turned to face him, arms crossed. “Yeah. Hilarious.”

Another pause.

Then—like the absolute idiot that he was—James reached for the door handle himself, as if that would make a difference. He twisted. Pushed. Pulled.

Nothing.

He let out a sheepish cough. “Okay. So it’s… properly locked.”

You stared at him, unamused. “Brilliant deduction, Potter.”

“Well, no need to panic. Just grab your wand and—”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

James stopped.

You saw it—the exact second he realized.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping into something close to horror. “No, no, no—tell me you have your wand.”

You didn’t answer.

“Tell me one of us brought their wand.”

Silence.

His face fell.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he groaned, running a hand through his already-messy hair.

You let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We left them in the locker room.”

“Because Quidditch robes don’t have pockets,” he finished, nodding grimly.

More silence.

Then, James turned to you, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “I mean… at least we have each other?”

You deadpanned. “I’m going to kill you.”

His grin widened. “That would be counterproductive.”

You groaned, slumping against the wall of the shed. “This is your fault.”

James raised his eyebrows. “My fault?”

“You’re the Captain. That makes everything automatically your fault.”

He scoffed. “That’s not how it works.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, because I’m not Captain.”

James let out a dramatic sigh. “Are you still salty about that?”

You glared at him. “I hope someone finds us in here tomorrow.”

James just laughed.

And, Merlin help you, you hated how much you liked the sound of it.

Because for all your irritation, for all your sharp words and glares and gritted teeth… you didn’t actually hate James Potter. Not even a little.

And that was the real problem.

James stretched his arms behind his head, utterly unconcerned about the fact that you were well and truly stuck. You, on the other hand, were pacing a tight line along the cramped space of the shed, trying to think of a way out.

“Maybe if we both threw our weight against the door at the same time, we could—”

“Shatter the entire thing?” James cut in, amused. “Brilliant idea. McGonagall would love that one.”

You whirled on him, scowling. “You got a better plan, Captain?”

James, to his credit, pretended to think about it. “Not really. But if we are stuck here, we might as well make the most of it.”

You gave him a deeply unimpressed look. “And how exactly do you suggest we do that?”

James smirked, leaning lazily against the wall like this was all just a minor inconvenience, like you weren’t actually trapped inside a tiny wooden shed with only old broomsticks and deflated Quaffles for company. “Well,” he said, voice infuriatingly casual, “we could always sit and have a nice chat.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “I’d rather take my chances with the door.”

“Come on,” James said, tilting his head at you. “I’m trying to be civil.”

You shot him a glare but begrudgingly slumped against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

“Alright, since you’re so interested in chatting,” you said, voice thick with sarcasm, “why don’t you enlighten me? What is it, exactly, that makes you so insufferable?”

James laughed, bright and easy. “Dunno. It’s a talent, I suppose.”

You rolled your eyes. “You would think that.”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. But then, to your surprise, the amusement in his expression softened just a fraction.

“Alright,” he said, a little more serious now. “Your turn. What is it, exactly, that makes you so mad at me?”

You scoffed. “Oh, where to begin?”

James just raised his eyebrows, waiting.

You hesitated.

Because, really—what was it?

What was it that made your blood boil every time he smirked at you? What was it that made you grind your teeth when he swooped past you on his broom, looking like some Quidditch poster boy? What was it that made you so incredibly bitter about him being Captain, when, deep down, you knew he was actually pretty damn good at it?

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. “You’re just… you,” you said finally, though even you knew it was a weak answer.

James hummed. “Right. And that means…?”

“You’re arrogant. You’re annoying. You think you’re the greatest thing to ever happen to Quidditch.”

He grinned. “I am the greatest thing to ever happen to Quidditch.”

You gave him a look. “See? That. That right there.”

James laughed, but his hazel eyes stayed fixed on you, sharp and searching, like he was seeing something beyond your words. Like he knew there was more to it.

And the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

James leaned in slightly, his grin never faltering. “You know, I think you secretly like it.”

You snorted. “Like what?”

“The way I get under your skin.” He tilted his head, watching you closely, like he was trying to read you. “The way I push your buttons.”

Your stomach did an annoying little flip. You ignored it. “Oh, please.”

James smirked. “You wouldn’t glare at me so much if you didn’t care.”

A silence stretched between you, not quite tense but not entirely comfortable either. The shed was small—too small—and now that you weren’t moving around, you were painfully aware of how close the two of you were.

James must have noticed it too, because his smirk softened, something flickering in his hazel eyes. “Listen,” he said, a little quieter, “if this is about Quidditch—about me being Captain—I didn’t take it to spite you.”

You frowned. “I never said you did.”

James gave you a knowing look. “You didn’t have to.”

You looked away. Because, maybe he had a point.

Maybe it wasn’t just about the title. Maybe it was the fact that when McGonagall had announced James as Captain, your heart had twisted in a way you hadn’t expected. Because you had worked so hard, and yet—James had gotten it without even breaking a sweat. Like everything else.

And maybe it stung because James—golden, charming, ridiculously talented James—had always been just one step ahead of you.

You exhaled, crossing your arms tightly. “I know you didn’t take it to spite me,” you admitted, voice quieter than before. “It’s just… frustrating.”

James watched you, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, after a beat, his mouth curved into a slow, lopsided smile.

“Y’know,” he said, voice teasing but warm, “for what it’s worth? You’d make a bloody brilliant Captain.”

Your breath hitched slightly, but you masked it with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Flattery’s not gonna get us out of here, Potter.”

James grinned. “No, but it might make you like me a little more.”

You rolled your eyes. But this time, it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

James must have noticed the way your mouth twitched because his grin widened. “Was that a smile?”

You scowled on instinct. “No.”

His eyes sparkled. “It was.”

“It was not.”

James hummed, looking insufferably pleased with himself. “It’s alright, you know. You can admit it. You like me.”

You scoffed, leaning your head back against the wooden wall with a dramatic sigh. “Being trapped in a storage shed with you has made me delirious, that’s all.”

James chuckled, and for once, it wasn’t the teasing, self-satisfied kind of laugh that usually made you want to throw a Bludger at his head. It was softer. Warmer.

And that was almost worse.

Because James Potter was supposed to be arrogant and annoying and completely, utterly insufferable. He wasn’t supposed to look at you like that—like he actually wanted to understand you. Like he wasn’t just playing a game.

You exhaled, shifting slightly where you sat. “I do take Quidditch seriously, you know.”

James tilted his head. “I know you do.”

“I don’t just get annoyed at you for the sake of it.”

“Well,” James said, smirking, “maybe a little.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just—Quidditch is the one thing I’ve always been really good at. And then you come along, and you’re just… better.” You hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

James blinked. “Wait—do you actually think that?”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “I—shut up.”

James stared at you like you had just told him the sky was green. “You think I’m better than you?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Forget I said anything.”

“Not a chance,” James said, still looking mildly offended. “You’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen. I mean it.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, skeptical. “Even better than you?”

James grinned. “Obviously not.”

You let out a strangled laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Git.”

James just laughed, but then his expression softened. “You know I admire you, right?”

You blinked. “What?”

James shrugged, like he hadn’t just casually thrown that out there. “You work harder than anyone. You make plays even I wouldn’t think of. And you never back down from a challenge. It’s kind of impressive.”

Your throat felt oddly tight. “Oh.”

James smiled. “And a little terrifying.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Good.”

A comfortable silence settled between you. The shed was still small, still cold, still locked. But somehow, it didn’t feel quite as unbearable anymore.

James shifted, bumping his knee against yours. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think McGonagall gave me Captain because I’m better. I think she gave it to me because I’m loud and she wanted me to yell at people so she wouldn’t have to.”

You laughed. “That does sound like her.”

James grinned. “And you would’ve been a nightmare. Can you imagine? You’d have us all doing drills in our sleep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

“Fair point.”

Another pause. Then James nudged you again, his voice quieter this time. “Hey.”

You glanced at him.

His hazel eyes were even softer now, searching. “I really don’t want you to hate me.”

You swallowed. “I don’t.”

He held your gaze, like he was waiting for you to take it back. But you didn’t.

And then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned your head against his shoulder. Just for a second.

James stilled. You could hear his breath catch, just slightly, before he let it out. Then, slowly—hesitantly—he leaned his head against yours.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it.”

James chuckled, quiet and warm. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And for some odd reason, you almost didn’t mind being stuck with him.

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

[aurynsia]

Hellooo, so I am obsessed with the James Potter fic and can’t help but think of how James would react if he caught Harry writing a letter for Ginny the same way he did for reader? Or maybe his daughter received a letter from someone?

Like Father, Like Son

Dad!James Potter x Reader

Summary: James discovers Harry has inherited his lover boy gene…

Warnings: Mum!Reader x Dad!James, reader is referred to as Harry’s mother with she/her pronouns, not edited.

Word Count: 1K

Masterlist

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! Thank you so much for the request! This acts as a sequel to this series, but feel free to read it as a stand alone one shot <3

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Dear Ginny,

there have been three occasions in my life when I’ve known what love is.

The first was watching my parents fall in love more and more everyday, reminiscing on their years spent as high school sweethearts. My dad had confessed to my mum in a series of love letters, initially anonymous before she found him out. They’ve been together ever since, and I long for a love like theirs.

The second time I knew love, it was platonic. My best friends mean the world to me, and they’ve shown me more love in these past few years of school than I’d ever known before. I can trust them with my deepest, darkest secrets, and for that I am truely grateful.

The third time was brought on by you. Ginny Weasley, I’m in love with-“

“Need any help with that holiday homework, love?”

James peaked his ever messy head of hair around the young Potter’s door, balancing a plate of his various house husband specialties in his hand.

Harry flushed with a wide-eyed shock, frozen in place as James pushed further into the room and placed the food on his desk.

“N-no, thanks dad! It’s uh…it’s not hard!” Harry managed to stutter out in reply after a beat, eyeing James curiously as he dotted around the room.

“What do you have there? Is that potions?” James lit up, scurrying over to Harry’s desk, “You know, your mother and I excelled in potions in seventh year! I was head over heels-“

He paused, glancing between the letter on Harry’s desk and his son’s sheepish grin, his eyebrows furrowed in the guilt of being caught.

“My boy…” James began, “Is that a love letter?” Harry looked away, worry clouding his features as he often sought to avoid conversations about love with his dad - he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

“You really are my son!” James exclaimed, running on the spot to release some pent up energy, “Oh, this is great! Who’s it for? Have I met her? Or him! You know I’d never judge-“

“It’s for Ginny, dad,” Harry groaned, interrupting the man who was behaving like a fourteen year old boy. “The Weasley girl?” James paused as Harry winced. “I know she’s my best friend’s sister, but-“

“She’s lovely! Oh, this is perfect! Yes, what a sweet girl - such a welcoming family, her parents are such a treat-“ James rambled as he paced his son’s room, ignoring the way Harry released the breath he held as he broke the news to his dad.

Harry always prayed his parents would never succumb to the expectations of blood status, marrying him off to some pretentious pure blood girl when he’d rather be with the quick witted red head who stole his heart.

Today, it seemed, those prayers had been answered.

“C’mon, son, let me help! I’m good at this, you know, swept your mother right off of her feet! A poet, she had called me, yes! What have you written so far?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You pressed your key into the lock of your front door, twisting and turning to release the latch and enter the warmth of your home.

Letting out a shuddering breath from the frost that hit your neck in the street, you plunged into your hallway, throwing off your coat, bag and shoes before shuffling to the living room fireplace.

“Jamie,” you breathed, smiling with adoration at your husband’s perked up expression, anticipating your approach to the couch like an excited puppy after hearing the door slam.

“My lovely girl, welcome home! How was work? Are you hungry? There’s dinner on the stove,” he rattled off in a string of ecstatic exclamations, jumping off of the couch to wrap you in his strong arms.

You softened at his touch, humming in the warmth of his chest as you told him about your day and asked for late dinner.

“That sounds exhausting, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he mused, pulling you to his chest on the couch after guiding you to the plush cushions with a bowl of food in your hands. “We had quite the eventful day here, too,” he started, bright eyed and reeling, “I’m sure it’ll cheer you up!”

“Tell me all about it, Jamie,” you murmured, cuddling into his chest like it was moulded perfectly for your head. “Harry’s written a love letter, a good one,” he began enthusiastically, “for that lovely little Ginny Weasley he’s been so infatuated with recently!”

He practically squealed at the confession, adding pressure to your waist out of unconscious joy. You grinned in surprise, eyebrows reaching for your hairline as you spun around to face James. “Well, he really is his father’s son, hmm?”

James bounced you on his lap in glee, describing the letter that Harry planned to take back to Hogwarts with him. “And then he’ll slip it under her door! Oh, love, it’s perfect!”

You smiled sleepily at his explanation, rolling your head across his chest to stare up at him dreamily. “He deserves a love like ours,” you mused, “I remember that night, I was so enamoured by your beautiful writing…Harry’s got your big heart.”

“And your beautiful brain,” he kissed your forehead, “and your gorgeous eyes,” another kiss, “and your stunning smile,” one kiss more. You giggled at his touch, leaning impossibly closer to him on the couch.

“If all goes as planned, I suppose we should have the Weasleys over for Christmas,” you mumbled with a sleepy smile, closing your eyes and tightening your grip on James’ arms that captured your waist. “Oh! I’ll make dinner! We can have a big party!”

James Potter, the big, strong man with an even bigger heart who just had to make you fall for his hopeless romantics.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x wife!reader

Summary: A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: reader and James have a newborn baby (named Harry), mentions of death, murder, blood, violence,

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

The clock reads midnight and still no one has heard from any of them.

You're sitting on the couch, your head in your hands. Lily crouches by your legs, her delicate hands resting on your knee as she rubs soothing circles around them, attempting to match your breathing so she can help you.

Naturally, you have taken this the hardest. 

"They'll be alright," Lily whispers as if she can promise you that all will be okay, but her voice is distant.

The only person you can hear is him. His voice rings in your mind, the way he sounds when he says your name, when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

You can feel his hand in yours, the way his lips brushed your cheek, and the only thing you imagine when you look up is the front door opening wide and seeing him walk in, with only a few superficial scratches. 

But the door doesn't move and instead, the room is silent. 

It's been hours. It was supposed to be quick. That's what James had said when he kissed your head and said you he loved you. He hadn't even said goodbye to the baby.

"It's an easy mission, nothing dangerous—they're probably lost, you know how Sirius is," Marlene says from her side of the room as if that makes any of this better. 

"You don't know that," you snap and stand up, pacing the room. You look at your friends, their solemn faces only making this worse. You can't stand their sadness, or even worse their pity. "Just—leave me alone—" your voice comes out hoarse, running up the creaky wooden stairs of you and James's little home in Godric's Hollow.

You hold your breath, turning the corner into the nursery where baby Harry should be sleeping soundly; unaware that his father isn't home. 

It's as it should be, you reminded yourself, gently creeping inside. He is just a baby. He shouldn't worry. You'll make sure he never had to worry. You lean over the crib, picking your son up into your arms. He's all bundled up so the movement doesn't wake him. 

"Oh, James," you mutter, feeling the warm tears fall but you hold them in for Harry's sake. This wasn't normal. Something felt wrong. "Where are you?" you ask into the darkness of the room, a line of moonlight from outside gently shines onto Harry's sleeping face.

You've always found it fascinating how much he can look like his father at only one years old and you wonder if that will carry on into his childhood. 

"He looks like a wrinkled pickle," James had said the day of Harry's birth, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned your sweaty head on his bicep, breathing deeply from exhaustion. Your husband had somehow managed to squeeze himself onto the small hospital cot, his hip pressed against yours as he glanced down at the infant pressed against your bare chest. "Ugly little pickle," he muttered, the lovesick smile on his face betraying his true opinion. 

"James," you'd scolded weakly. You're much too exhausted to look up as you keep your baby pressed against your bare breasts, calming him with your breathing.   

"You're beautiful, my love," James said, kissing your hairline. "You did so well. So brave and strong."

You laughed, his voice soothing you. 

"I just know our little pickle is gonna grow up just as handsome as his dad, ain't that right, bud?" James had teased, talking to the infant as if he could hear him. You rolled your eyes, simply letting the warmth of the two boys you loved the most lull you to sleep. 

Harry suddenly begins to stir, his little eyes blinking open and you instantly rock him. "Shh, baby, go back to sleep," you whisper, feeling horrible for waking him up. 

Harry doesn't cry. He looks at you in the darkness. He blinks a few times and then as if on cue, begins to wail. It's as if he can sense your sadness and all he can do with the emotion is cry. You feel horrible, sliding against the crib as you sit up, holding Harry up, as you rock him a little harder. 

"Oh, please, honey," you plead, holding him against your knees as you touch the little tufts of curly hair on his little forehead. You hope none of your friends hear him and give them a reason to check on you. "Please, my lovely, sleep. It's okay. Daddy will be home soon, okay?" 

You say it mostly to calm yourself down, knowing that it will in turn calm your son. You breathe, holding in more tears as you think of James. Where is he? You press a kiss on Harry's head once his cries have ceased.

You aren't sure how much time has passed as you sit on the floor, your eyes tired from crying as your baby sleeps soundly in your arms. The sounds of your friends have drowned into the background. You're having the most horrible dream as you drift to sleep, having cried exhaustion into your body. 

James is gone. He's gone and you can't reach him. 

You shift, your body unconsciously keeping Harry in your arms as your mind plagues you with horrible images. You can almost feel James's palm on your hand, his breath on your skin as he calls your name. 

But he's gone. He's dead.

"My darling," his voice rings in your ears, hoarse and broken. "Wake up." James's calloused fingers touch your cheek, a wetness you don't recognize seeping into your skin and your eyes widen. You're met with James's piercing brown eyes and he forces a strained smile. 

"Hi," he whispers.

Without thinking, you sit up through your haze and almost let Harry slip from your arms. Luckily, James scoots closer, trapping you in between his legs as he holds Harry to his chest, supporting your arms too. Harry wakes up again, his sleep schedule severely messed up as he begins to cry again and your heart breaks. 

"Hi pickle," James whispers, careful only to touch the outside of Harry's blanket with his bloodied hands. You blink, staring at the awful state your husband is in, which even in the moonlight you can tell he's covered in ash and blood, his face littered insuperficial cuts and bruises— still, he's alive. 

"James—" you whimper, touching his cheek gently. "What happened? Where were you? I was worried sick—" You squirm out of his legs and stand, taking Harry from him as you look for your son's favorite pacifier.

Once you've found it, you place it in Harry's mouth and set him back in his crib to fall asleep. You turn, grabbing your wand, and enchanting his crib mobile. Harry seems calmer now and you take James's wrist gently, pulling him out into the hallway. 

You'd already disturbed your poor baby enough.

After closing the nursery door, you turn the light on, placing your wand in the back pocket of your jeans as you look him over. His shirt is bloodied and there's a gash, but the wound has been healed. "Remus healed me. We were ambushed—we barely got away and I- they had to heal me before we came home. I wouldn't let him take me home to you in the state I was in," James says. 

Tears brim in your eyes. 

"But, I'm okay now," he says and lifts his hand as if he wants to hold your cheek but he doesn't since there is still dried blood on his hands. Instead, he smiles at you. "I'm sorry you were so worried. Lily told me you were inconsolable."

You scoff, sniffling as you wrap your arms around his chest. You inhale his scent, holding in more sobs as relief overtakes you. "Of course I was worried, you fool," you pause and sniffle, "I was scared you'd never come home."

James wraps his arms around you. "I will always come home to you and Harry. Always, okay?" 

You nod, resting your ear against your chest as you hold him. He sighs and rests his chin on your head, rubbing your back. "I'm gonna take a shower and you should go to bed, I'll tell you everything in the morning, okay?" 

You shake your head, holding him tighter. You just want to be close to him. You don't want to let him out of your sight.

James can tell and he kisses your head. "Okay, okay, my love. I'm not going anywhere," he says in a whisper and he sighs, "I never want to be away from you again."

[kayrish]

"BRO'S THE TYPE TO-"

-Bro’s the type to be dating you because he finds some sense comfort in you since he never had any growing up.

-Bro’s the type to be emotionally unavailable but makes it up by spending time with you outside of school and buying you things

-Bro’s the type to make to super obvious that he has a crush on you but if you confront him about it, he’ll deny everything.

-Bro’s the type to ask Hermione what to do while dating you. She doesn’t even have to know you personally and he’ll still ask her because she knows “everything” on what girls like.

-Bro’s the type to be really awkward while being in public with you but when you two are alone, he melts into your touch like he’s never been held before.

-Bro’s the type to be terrible at any form of verbal comfort but he’s here if you need a shoulder to cry on or want to rant about your day.

-Bro’s the type to get defensive when someone speaks poorly about you. They don’t even have to be speaking to Harry directly, a speckle of your name can come out from someone’s mouth and now he’s fighting the urge to not fight them.

-Bro’s the type to deny any physical touch but when you stop, he’ll start looking like a kicked puppy, begging for attention

-Bro’s the type to look for any excuse to spend holiday at your house because he would quite literally would rather die than spend his holiday with the Dursley’s.

-Bro’s the type to listen to you talk shit about a random and agree with what you say regardless if he knows them or not.

“I actually hate __ so much. She’s so annoying”

“I completely agree with that.”

-Bro’s the type to scheme and ask you for a second opinion on his plan.

“Love, you don’t think I’m crazy for investigating to see if Malfoy’s a Death Eater, right?”

“Harry James Potter…Go. To. Bed.”

-Bro’s the type to do well in every class but ask you for help so he can find an excuse to spend more time with you.

[godricgryffinsnore]

Found myself doing this is a boring class, thought it would be a cool fic idea:

YN writes her crush's initials on her wrist's pulse point and he finds out.

Harry/fem!reader

Ink and Impulse ♡ | H.Potter ★

"Look, I didn’t mean to fall for the girl who writes initials on her wrist like she’s living in a teenage diary entry… but then I found out they were my initials, and well — what was I supposed to do? Not tease her relentlessly and then fall hopelessly in love? Yeah, right."

pairing : Harry Potter x fem!reader

summary : Writing your crush's initials on your wrist is harmless… unless your crush happens to be Harry Potter, who’s absolutely insufferable once he finds out.

warnings : Light teasing and playful embarrassment, Secondhand embarrassment (Harry is a menace, you've been warned), Excessive flirting and wrist kissing, Mild language, Shameless romantic fluff, Ron being utterly clueless, Hermione being 100% done with everyone, Boyfriend Harry with zero chill. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : This was such a cute idea!!! Thanks for requesting lovie!

word count : 0.7k

navigation <3

banners : @/roseschoices and @/cafekitsune

It started as a stupid impulse. You were bored in History of Magic — and Merlin, no one should be blamed for what they do while Binns drones on about goblin uprisings. So you did what any mildly lovesick teenage girl with a quill and a wrist would do.

You wrote his initials.

Small. Delicate. Right over the soft thrum of your pulse point.

H.J.P.

And then promptly forgot about it. Sort of.

Well, not really.

You tried to forget about it, but it was hard when every glance at your wrist made your heart do a stupid little jump, and when every accidental brush of Harry’s hand made the ink feel like it was burning.

And of course, life wasn’t satisfied with letting you pine in peace.

No, because Hermione noticed first.

“Did you write something on your wrist?” she asked, peering across the breakfast table.

You yanked your sleeve down so fast it was like you’d been caught with contraband. “Nope.”

“Definitely saw a letter,” Ron muttered, biting into his toast. “A J or a P or something. Is it... a crush?”

“I—no!” you choked, already planning your dramatic escape. “It’s just notes. For class. Revision strategy.”

“Right,” Hermione said, too knowingly. “Because when I revise, I always write my O.W.L. material directly over my arteries.”

Before you could swat her with a spoon, a voice drawled behind you—

“Oh? What’s this about arteries?”

Your soul briefly left your body.

Harry Potter—your Harry Potter, the one with the mess of dark hair and eyes that always softened when he looked at you like you were made of something more than bone and breath—plopped himself down next to you with a crooked grin.

“Apparently,” Hermione said sweetly, “someone’s been doodling on her pulse point.”

“Oh?” he asked again, this time turning directly to you. “What were you doodling?”

You swore his voice dropped an octave.

“Nothing,” you said too quickly.

“Mm.” His eyes drifted to your wrist, half-covered by your sleeve. “So if I just... had a peek—”

You slammed your hand under the table.

“Harry James Potter, I swear on Merlin’s left sock—”

“Is it... my name?” he asked, and smirked.

That was it. That was the moment you realized you were doomed.

Hermione audibly gasped. Ron dropped his toast. Hedwig, wherever she was in the castle, probably looked up with a sense of psychic foreboding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered. “Shut up.”

“Oh, this is brilliant,” Harry laughed, practically bouncing in his seat. “You like me. You wrote my name on your skin.”

“Initials!” you hissed. “And I was bored!”

“You wrote my initials on your pulse point, sweetheart,” he said, absolutely reveling in your horror. “That’s, like, sixteen levels of emotionally unhinged. Are you planning our wedding, too?”

“I was bored!”

“I think I feel faint,” he said, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “This is the best day of my life.”

You groaned and faceplanted into your arms, wishing for a time-turner so you could slap yourself three hours earlier.

And that should’ve been the end of it.

But no.

Because Harry Potter decided to become a menace.

“Hey,” he whispered in Charms, pulling your sleeve up. “Just checking if my name’s still there. Would be tragic if you moved on.”

“Hey,” he said again at dinner, resting his chin on your shoulder, “thinking about getting ‘(Y/N)’ tattooed. Right over the vein. Want to match?”

And the worst part?

He actually did it.

One evening in the common room, when everyone else had filtered out and the fire was flickering low, he sat beside you with a quiet smile, reached for your hand, and pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist. Right where the ink had faded.

Then, slowly, he unbuttoned his sleeve, turned his arm over, and showed you.

Your name. Right over his pulse point. Written in messy, inky letters.

“I figured,” he murmured, eyes on you instead of the ink, “if you’re going to walk around with my initials like that... I ought to return the favor.”

Your breath hitched.

“You’re horrible,” you whispered, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

Harry looked utterly pleased with himself.

“I know,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “But I’m your horrible, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, cupped his cheek, and kissed him.

Somewhere in the corner, Hermione muttered to Ron, “Finally.”

Ron just said, “Took him writing on his own arm, huh?”

[aikonajm5]

[0.5-Глава];○Fem!OC reader [OC: fem!Harry [Potter] x Fem!Tom Riddle

[0]-Глава:/[0.5]-Глава/[1]-Глава/[2]-Глава(скоро)/

А/Н: Предупреждения; Грамматические ошибки, самоубийство, возможно ошибки в текстах. Читайте на свой страх и риск, ведь если что-то случится, я не несу ответственность.

—♡ Fem!OC reader [OC: fem!Harry [Potter] x Fem!Tom Riddle

—Данное произведение происходит в молодости Воландеморта, где он ещё не Тёмный Лорд. А еще он теперь девочка, смиритесь с этим.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Прошло около 3 месяца с тех пор как женщина стала матерью а мужчина стал отцом. Имя ребёнку давно подобрали и назвали её «Генриетта Энни Лопес». Поначалу отец холодно и с презрением относился к ребёнку но со временем начал исправлять негативные эмоции и стал улыбаться чаще как и жене так и ребёнку. Но вот Генриетта или просто Гарри, как её любит называть отец, была странной. В отличии от других детей которые еще плакали, кричали и ко всему прочему которых было тот еще трудом понять их, она была спокойнее, часто принимала пищу и редкость кричала и плакала. Она кричала лишь тогда когда у неё заполонялись пелёнки, плакала когда хотела есть. Мать на мгновение подумала что возможно на её дитя повлияла какая-то магия, но она как ведьма из волшебного мира ничего не могла найти из своего ребёнка. Она благодарна Мерлину за такого легко понятного ребёнка а вот отец… отец был наоборот противоречивым. Он считал своего ребёнка жутким на что он поправился языком от своей жены. Она не была довольна что её муж ведёт себя противно с её, или точнее с ИХ общим ребёнком. И вот и года не прошло как родители начали спорить друг с другом. Затем девочке наступило пять лет. В этом возрасте все играли, кричали то на площадке прыгали и бегали, а вот девочки играли в куклы по большой части. Но не Гарри, она скорее всего больше походила на мальчишку, у неё был такой же хулиганский характер, она предпочитала бегать, прыгать и лазать по деревьям. Вместо платье предпочитала шорты, брюки. Мать конечно поначалу была в шоке от этого в отличии от отца который просто усмехнулся. Отец был в какой-то степень доволен, ведь не придется тратить лишние галеоны на пустые розовые шмотки как он считает. Гарри была весёлой девочкой хоть и большинство девочек её опасались, а мальчики лишь смеялись над ней. Единственное что Гарри делала на оскорбительные комплименты, лишь показывала им язык и строгое лицо. Её зелёные глаза сияли, а тёмные волосы лишь добавляли жуткости в ней. Отец все же решился обращаться с ней также, как он хотел бы обращаться со своим сыном (но его нет) а вот мать старалась учить её манерам и этикетку, что на удивление та быстро усвоила, а мать гордилась этим.

◇Предупреждения, начинается не самая приятная сцена◆

Все было в семье спокойно до тех пор, пока не случился инцидент…

Родители девочки Генриетт Энни Люпес были мертвы. Один из тёмных волшебников решил пробраться в дом семьи, но его поймали. Отец был обычным маглом и единственное что он сделал, он начал биться по магловски. Стрелял прямо на тёмного волшебника и когда мать решила помочь своему мужу отбиться от преступника, внезапно отец ненанороком попал прямо в мать, а та уже успела своим заклинанием убить тёмного волшебника. Весь этот ужас и скандал увидела Гарри, та с страхом и со слезами на глазах смотрела перед собой. Прямо перед её лицом мать упала на пол намертво, без маленьких частей живота, а отец был сломлен, и он упал на колени и с ужасом смотрел на свою дочь и бормотал разные вещи перед носом. Девочка с дрожью подходила к отцу но тот сильно оттолкнуть девочку что та ударилась об комод. Отец был в панике, не выдержав столько эмоции он решил…Прикончить себя! Он безумно смеялся, подошёл к своей мёртвой жене из которой торчали её внутренние организмы, он на последнем противно и грязно поцеловал её и застрелил себя, не думая о своей маленькой дочери…

｡･: *: ･ﾟ★, ｡･: *: ･ﾟ☆°•✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽•*, ☆.·͙*͙˚* ✩ *˚*͙‧͙˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.·͙*͙˚* ✩ *˚*͙‧͙

Прошло около недели с тех пор, как Гарри осталась сиротой. К её удаче, ей досталось все пособие и наследство как и от матери так и отца. Она сможет получить их полностью как и какой-то дом по документам когда ей исполнится 15 лет. А сейчас девочка сидела в карете с её багажом, и ехали они по шумной улице.

Гарри: «(Боже… хоть внутри я и взрослая женщина, но меня все равно трясёт от этой картины…)»

Девочка задрожала и крепко схватилась за свою левую ладонь до посинения. Этот день, этот момент, она будет помнить очень ярко и чётко… и возможно это станеть её кошмаром…

□__________●__________□

Наконец-то карета остановилась около страшного и почти разрушенного приюта. Везде было грязно на территории, дети кидали друг другу камни и дрались за мусор. Кто-то был спокойным и прятался.

??? : «Мы приехали маленькая леди. Вам помочь отнести багаж?»

Гарри: «Если можно, пожалуйста.»

Когда девочка вышла из кареты, она внимательно осмотрела здан��е и ворота. Девочка прищурилась от название, в ней было что-то такое знакомое но и отдельно близкое, что было странным. Приют носил название: «Приют Вула». Что-то внутри девочки подсказывало что ей лучше быть очень осторожней. Хотя и без интуиции понятно что ей лучше бы быть осторожней. Почти никто не обращал на них внимание, разве что любопытные и внимательные дети. Гарри и в правду выглядела необычно. У неё были зелёные яркие глаза, круглые очки на носу и тёмные волосы заканчивая темно-коричневыми на кончиках, а волосы были короткими, но можно было собрать из неё конский короткий хвост. Шрам на лбу в виде природной молнии/грозы, что можно было увидеть во время страшной серой погоды. Некоторые мальчики смеялись над образом девочки и даже думали к ней приблизиться, но Гарри игнорировала их и даже посылала что было необычно для взрослого мужчины сзади неё. Оба подошли к двери и открыли его, открывая им самый отвратительный зал который можно было с трудом назвать столовой. Они поднялись на второй этаж и наконец-то встретились с воспитательницей.

Воспитательница: «Очередная мелкая крыса в захолустье? Тц… нам будто и других мало.»

Гарри проигнорировала её оскорбление, и дальше смотрела ей в глаза.

Воспитательница: «Ещё и зыркает вы поглядите! Слушай сюда соплячка, это уже не твой тот самый любимый дом где ты можешь устанавливать свои правила. Помни что здесь закон в этом здании, это я! Если ты не будешь следовать правилам этого приюта, то я без колебаний могу тебя выгнать отсюда! Я ясно выражаюс?»

Гарри: «Конечно мадам.»

Женщина просто усмехнулась над девочкой, будто она явно дала понять что она здесь самая главная. Она провела их обоих в самый верх здании и это оказался этаж ниже чердака. Она показала им комнату и объяснила кто в этой комнате живёт. Мужчина поклонился девочке и быстро убежал со здание как мог, унося прочь свои ноги. Воспитательница которой узнали её имя; "Миссис Коул"– лишь покачала головой и дальше показывала, рассказывала как и что устроено. А Гарри пришлось не отставать, багаж был тяжёлым хоть их и две.

М.Коул: «Слушай сюда спиногрыз! Я говорю это в первый и последний раз, чтобы не творили твоя соседка по комнате это будут твои проблемы. В приют возвращайся в 8 вечера не поздно, завтрак, обед и ужин приходи вовремя! И третье; старайся быть сильнее! Знай, я не буду тебе помогать, даже если попросишь! Ты меня поняла?»

Гарри: «Да миссис Коул.»

М.Коул: «Отлично, хоть не тупая.»

Она сразу постучала в дверь и открыла его. Она быстро зашла в комнату и осмотрелась, её взгляд остановился прямо на девочку, которая сидела на кровати и читала книгу… что удивительно было ей в первый раз. Девочка которая читала книгу подняла взгляд. У неё тоже были тёмные волосы а размер доходил ниже плеч, а кончики заканчивались тёмно-синего цвета. А тёмные глаза будто готовые смотреть на тебя прямо в душу, посмотрела перед собой с раздражение на лице.

М.Коул: «Тэмми, знакомся! Это твоя новая соседка по комнате.»

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅

•○○○Продолжение следует●●●

╚════▣◎▣════╝

А/Н: Хм... и как тебе на данный момент живётся?

Гарри: Нормально, не смотря на тот что мне пришлось поначалу терпеть издевательства от отца, пртом от окружающих а после увидеть смерть... причём в конце ужасно грязный. Так и ещё отвратительное отношение от М.Коул, так ещё-‐

А/Н: Ок поняли! Встретимся в следующей главе! Предупреждаю! Обновление очень медленные! Не забудьте оставить комментарий!

[uramakimochi]

LIKE FATHER LIKE SON

James Potter x Reader

WARNINGS: just fluff, FEM!R + use of Y/n, nonVoldemort!au, dilf!James + mamasboy!Harry being protective of their wife/mom and Y/n being done with them lol, Lucius and Draco Malfoy being Lucius and Draco Malfoy.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

"James Fleamont Potter, what is this?"

James looked up from his coffee cup and raised his head to look at you, seeing you waving a paper envelope in front of his eyes.

"A letter?" he asked ironically.

You nodded, placing it in front of his eyes on the table and crossing your arms.

"Uh-uh. And can you tell me who it was sent by?"

James focused his gaze on the elegant writing and logo printed on the envelope.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard-

When he realized where it was coming from, James had to double check, not having realized the first time and almost spit the coffee on you.

"From Howgwarts?!" he exclaimed, turning sharply towards you.

You nodded.

"It's strange that they called us, they only do it when it's something serious" you murmured worriedly. "What if something happened to Harry?"

James raised his arm to untie your crossed arms and grab your hand.

"Why don't we read what it's about first, mh? Maybe we're just worrying about nothing" he asked, giving you an encouraging smile.

You slowly nodded and James opened the envelope, taking out the letter and reading it on his own first. When you noticed his expression drop, you realized that maybe it really was something serious.

"Oh crap..." he muttered.

"What? What does it say?"

You came up behind him to read the contents of the letter and felt a pang in your heart when you saw what it was about.

"Oh… Oh crap indeed"

When you and James arrived at Hogwarts, some students stared at you strangely but you ignored them and walked to the main door. As soon as you opened it, you were met by Professor McGonagall, who had an expression of concern on her face equal to yours.

"Oh, i'm glad you're here my dears" she said, advancing towards you.

"Minnie, what happened with Harry?" James asked.

"Is he okay?" you continued.

The woman alternated her gaze from you to him in silence for a couple of seconds and then let out a sigh.

"Follow me" she only said, then she turned and walked down the corridor. And the more you and James walked, the more you realized that the road you were on wasn't the one to Dumbledore's office, but the one that led to the hospital wing. You and James exchanged a worried look, but you didn't say anything.

After a few minutes you arrived at the door of the infirmary and before you could enter, Minerva turned to look at you.

"We don't usually call parents, but your presence has been explicitly requested... By Lucius Malfoy himself"

At hearing that name, James didn't help himself from making a groan and rolling his eyes, while you let out a breath through your nose. This was not good.

"Great" James said annoyed.

You placed a hand on his arm and then looked back at her.

"Professor can you tell us what happened, please?"

Minerva gave you a heartened smile. Unlike your husband who always called her by that nickname, you were always more formal towards her and she always appreciated that.

"I was told that Harry and Draco have been involved in an argument a bit… Rough" the woman said cautiously. "Well, they fought after the Quidditch match"

"What?!" you exclaimed.

"Who won?!" James said with hopeful eyes.

You and Minerva turned to look at him unimpressed. James chuckled sheepishly.

"Sorry, wrong question. Harry won, didn't he?"

Minerva ignored him, looking back at you and you rolled your eyes.

"Why is Lucius here?" you asked, crossing your arms.

The teacher let out a small sigh.

"It's nothing new that your sons don't get along, but this time Mr. Malfoy insisted on discussing this situation with the parents of the person who continues to mistreat their child"

"It's not Harry who mistreats him!" James said immediately, already feeling his soul heating up with anger. "It's that brat with gelled hair that keeps provoking him, but unlike Harry, he isn't capable of defending himself!"

"James" you called, trying to calm him down.

Minerva looked at you both with a sympathetic look. It was obvious that she also supported what James said, but as a teacher she had to try to be as neutral as possible and make both students understand that they were wrong. And then, it was better not to go against the Malfoys too much.

"If you want to go, they are waiting for you" the woman only said, indicating the door with a wave of her hand.

You glanced at James and without waiting for his permission, you threw open the door, rushing into the infirmary.

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry jumped from under the covers when he heard your voice echo throughout the hospital wing.

"Crap..." he cursed under his breath.

Hermione, who was sitting in a chair next to his bed, looked at him worriedly. Standing behind her, Ron looked between him and you, terrified.

"Uh-oh. I think your mother is angry, Harry" he muttered and Harry tried to slide under the sheets, as if to hide.

The three Gryffindors saw you advance towards them, followed by James. When you were close to the bed, Hermione stood up instinctively and both she and Ron stepped back, leaving Harry alone in your jaws.

You looked him up and down, crossing your arms and tapping your foot on the floor. Harry and James exchanged a look and as Harry tried to ask him for help with his eyes, not wanting to face your fury, James looked at him with a smirk that seemed to say "You're a goner, kid".

"Mom" he murmured. "I can explain"

"Oh, but i don't need explanations my dear, because i've already been told everything" you replied.

Harry looked down, staying silent and waiting for your next move. Until... With a sigh you leaned towards him and hugged him tightly, stroking his hair with one hand.

"I'm glad you're okay, darling" you murmured.

Harry felt taken aback, but when he looked at James and saw him smile tenderly, he realized there was nothing to worry about and returned the hug. You gave him a couple of kisses on the cheek and then you pulled away and sat next to him on the mattress, leaving the chair to Hermione.

Flick!

"Ah!"

Harry narrowed his eyes when you gave him a little flick on his forehead with your finger and James chuckled.

"That's because you got into a fight" you said in a fake stern tone, but still serious.

Harry nodded solemnly, while Ron and Hermione looked at him in relief. The worst was over.

"Harry" James then said, walking up behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What happened with Malfoy?"

"Darling, we were worried when we got the letter" you continued, covering James' hand with yours. "We thought something serious had happened"

"It's all Malfoy's fault!" Ron exclaimed.

You and James turned to look at him.

"Yes, he was angry because the Slytherins lost the Quidditch match and he taunted Harry as usual" Hermione continued.

You let out a small sigh.

"That little boy will never learn, will he?" you murmured. "He's only good with words. Just like his father"

James looked back at Harry, who hadn't answered his question and had remained silent, his eyes focused on the bedsheets. He was being too silent.

"There's more, isn't there?" your husband asked, getting all of you's attention.

Harry looked at him almost shyly and made a fist with his hand. Yes, there was more, but he didn't have the courage to say it.

"Harry" you called softly and he looked at you. "You can tell us everything. You know that, right?"

Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, who knew exactly what Harry wasn't going to say. She gave him a small smile of encouragement and he mouthed "Tell them" with his lips. Your son hesitated, but after a few seconds he took a breath and told the truth.

"Malfoy insulted you, mom"

You immediately felt James' hand tighten on your shoulder.

"Oh Harry-" you tried to say, but he continued.

"He called you a mudblood and he said you didn't deserve to be in the world and other stupid things"

You fell silent, but James had the opposite reaction as you.

"He said what?!"

You continued to look at your son, who huffed.

"I know you always tell me that Malfoy's words aren't worth listening to and you're right. But this time i couldn't resist, i'm sorry. I couldn't let him say those things about you"

You let out another small sigh, but then smiled slightly. You leaned towards him and caressed his cheek with one hand, gently running your thumb over the patch on the bridge of his nose.

"Harry, sweetheart. I appreciate you standing up for me, i really do. But i've learned not to care about what the Malfoys and those who think the same say about me, by now. And even if there's always you and dad, i can handle myself when i want too, anyway" you said, making him smile. "But i don't want you to get in trouble for my name again, okay? You need to prove that you're better than that"

When he nodded slowly, you raised the pinky of your free hand.

"Promise me" you ordered softly.

Harry intertwined his pinky with yours, murmuring a "I promise" and you gave him a small kiss on the forehead, while Hermione watched the scene tenderly.

"Well well well, here's the whole family reunited"

You all turned towards the new voice and both Harry and James clenched their fists when they saw Malfoy and Malfoy Jr behind him. James didn't say it out loud, but he was proud on the inside to see that Draco looked worse than Harry. He deserved it.

"Potter" Lucius said looking at James, raising his cane. "I hope you are willing to apologize to me for your son's unruly behavior"

James crossed his arms.

"None of us will apologize, because YOUR son only got what he deserved"

"And yet he only told the truth" Lucius continued, shifting his gaze to you and you glared at him. "And i'm not surprised that your son is raised this way, when his mother is nothing more than a filthy, unworthy mudblood. Pathetic"

James gritted his teeth and took a step towards him.

"Say that again, i dare you"

Behind them, Harry and Draco were also exchanging challenging glances.

"James" you called out to him, but he ignored you.

Lucius smirked and pointed the tip of his cane at you.

"That woman is scum. People like her should just die-"

SBAM!

Lucius was forced to stop when James punched him squarely in the nose, knocking him backwards.

"Father!" Draco exclaimed, frightened.

"James!" you yelled, standing up and running to him. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at the scene with wide eyes, but also with satisfied smiles on their lips.

"Were all the beatings i gave you at school not enough for you!? Haven't you learned your lesson yet, after all these years?!" James exclaimed angrily. "You're just as vapid as your son, you're only good at giving air to your stupid mouth!"

He took a step towards Lucius, but you grabbed onto his arm, trying to pull him back.

"James no-"

"I don't give a shit if i'll go to Azkaban for what i'm about to say, Malfoy. I solemnly swear, that if i hear you or your son insult my wife one more time, you'll be the one who's going to die. I swear it"

Lucius from the floor looked at your husband with a look of disgust, wiping the blood from his nose with his thumb and James looked back with a murderous one, breathing heavily. The tension between the two men was suddenly broken by the voice of Madame Pomfrey, who was approaching the scene.

"Does this seem to be the time and place to fight you two?!" the woman snapped with anger. "This is an infirmary and you're not students anymore! Stop acting like children and leave right now!"

James and Lucius glared at each other for the last time, until the latter hastily got up and walked briskly out of the hospital wing, followed by Draco. Some students lying on the beds who had witnessed the scene, including your son and his friends, clapped and whistled in support for James. You ran a hand over your face, embarrassed at all that attention, but they were immediately shushed by Madame Pomfrey.

"You too Potter! Visiting hours are over!" she exclaimed again, waving a hand, annoyed.

When you were sure that James had calmed down, you let go of him to move closer to Harry again.

"Sorry honey, but we have to go now. We'll see you for the holidays, okay? I love you" you said quickly, kissing his head and cheek.

"Me too, mom"

You took James' hand and dragged him towards the exit, turning to look at your son one last time.

"And remember our promise!"

Those were your last words before you closed the door behind you, entering the silence of the hallway. Then you turned to your husband and gave him a small slap on the back of the head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, immediately covering the affected spot with his hand and turning to look at you. "What was that for?"

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"You idiot! Didn't you hear anything about the speech i gave to our son??"

A few weeks later, one evening during the Christmas holidays, the Potter family and friends were all gathered in the living room of the Potter's household.

"I can't believe it AHAHAHAH!" Sirius's thunderous laughter echoed throughout the house. "Oh, how i wish i was there to see it! Y/n, you should have owled me!"

You glared at him.

"Sure, so instead of trying to convince these two-” you said, placing your hands on the heads of your husband and son. "-that arguing with the Malfoys is a waste of time, you would've only encouraged them to continue"

"And from what i understood Harry did a great job!" Sirius continued, looking at Harry, who smiled sheepishly. "Well done son, i'm proud of you"

You sat on the couch between James and Harry and the former wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him.

"I think the only one here with any sense that understands my point of view by now is Rem"

The aforementioned gave you a small, uncertain smile.

"Well... If James, Sirius and Harry weren't there, nothing would stop me from punching Malfoy in the face. Be it the old or the young one"

You widened your eyes, feeling betrayed, while everyone else burst out laughing.

"Remus!"

Remus chuckled with red cheeks.

"Dollface, those fuckers deserved it" Sirius continued, taking a sip from his goblet. "And we are your best friends, so if anyone dares to mess with you we will not hesitate to defend you. Just accept it and it'll be easier for you"

You sighed in resignation, while James smiled, tilting his face to leave a couple of kisses on your head.

"That scene was amazing though! Iconic!" Ron exclaimed with a toothy grin. "I don't think i'll ever forget the face Lucius and Draco made"

"Dad was so cool" Harry said.

James looked at the two boys, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Well, i had to defend my woman" he said and you giggled, resting your head against his body.

"James, can i ask you a question?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Ask away, darling"

"What did you mean by what you said to Lucius? When you asked him if all the beatings you gave him at school weren't enough. Had this already happened when you were our age?"

"Oh several times, unfortunately" Sirius replied before James could and then he continued drinking his wine.

"Y/n and Lily were often picked on by Slytherin pureblood students" Remus continued.

Harry turned to look at you with sad eyes, not knowing about the torment you had endured during your years at Hogwarts. You noticed this and gave him a thoughtful smile, reaching out to his hand and squeezing it, as if to say, "Don't worry about me, it's over now".

"But we were always there to protect them, right?" James then asked, lowering his head to look at you and when he saw your look he quickly added. "Even though they didn't need it and could handle themselves~"

"You must know, my dear kids" Sirius interjected again, referring to the three teenagers present "That the brave knight James here, was always ready to save his beloved princess Y/n. He didn't care what the consequences were"

Both you and James blushed, exchanging a loving look, while Harry, Hermione and Ron looked at you tenderly.

"And it's good to know that Harry would do the same for his mother" Remus said then. "Like father like son"

"Aah i love this family so much, i swear!" Sirius sighed, opening his arms wide and almost spilling the wine on the floor.

And everyone laughed.

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: i've been completely MIA, sorry.. i saw this in my drafts, and i was like, let me just continue it. this ended off kind of weird, but there will be smut in the next part! i'm gonna attempt to finish every series.. hopefully. i haven't written in a bit, so i apologize if you hate it. see u next time!

Peter flushed tomato red when the bottle landed on him, and Evan smiled at him in a very seductive way. As long as you've known him, Evan did have a lot of charm—nearly as much as Sirius.

Evan was a close second, though perhaps not Sirius, given his overwhelming appeal.

'Whoops' and applause echoed around the circle as Evan gently crept toward Peter, crawling on his hands and knees.

Peter gulped, sitting still in his seat as Evan rose above him and whispered something in his ear, causing Peter to gasp.

Evan took this opportunity to kiss him slowly and gently, his hands on either side of Peter's face.

You looked around to see everyone's reactions but everyone was either egging it on or talking to each other. You couldn't believe this was the same group you had been 'friends' with last school year.

After what felt like years, Evan finally broke away from Peter, leaving him a swift peck on the cheek as Peter closed his legs together and blushed from the teasing of Dorcas and Marlene.

Your eyes landed on the bottle as Sirius began to grab it for his turn. His eyes were on the bottle as they lifted up to wink at you which made you swallow.

He spun it and it landed on the person next to him, Remus. You honestly expected Remus to have the same reaction as Peter but he actually looked bored at the fact that it was Sirius.

Even Sirius noticed it, "Aw, not excited to kiss me love?" He asked, faking a pout.

Remus smirked, "You think you deserve a kiss after the shit you pulled today?" He asked, using his hands as stands to keep him up as he faced Sirius.

Sirius's pout quickly turned into a matching smirk with Remus, "Have I been bad?" He asked, inching towards him.

You felt butterflies, or maybe a little below your stomach. Were they actually flirting?

"Enough with the foreplay!" Marlene whined, "Get the kiss over with!"

"Yeah," James said with a smile as he sipped his fire whiskey, "Nothing you haven't done before."

Your eyes widened at that as Sirius shrugged and went in for the kiss with Remus. Remus had a hand on his cheek while Sirius intensely grabbed Remus's hair, growing deeper into the kiss.

Sirius was almost climbing into Remus's lap as a moan erupted from Remus's mouth and you felt a tightening in your stomach.

There was no way this was actually happening.

You saw Sirius smile into the kiss as he pulled away, wiping his mouth, "Still bored?" He asked as Remus waved him off with a flushed look his face.

"As much as I don't want to give Sirius another ego boost, that was extremely hot," Mary admitted, sipping her drink.

"Everything's hot about me baby," Sirius replied, winking at Mary as she scowled.

Sirius took a look at you as you quickly avoided his eye contact which was clearly a mistake.

He spoke, "I actually think our dear Y/N should go," He announced, "She seems like she's never played before," He tsked.

Steam almost flew out of your ears as you spoke, "Actually, I think the whole point is to go around in a circle, Black," You spat as Sirius only smiled.

"Oh," His voice dripping in mockery, "I'm sorry, Y/N, if you're feeling a bit scared, you don't have to go," He spoke as your fists clenched.

"Yeah Y/N," Lily gave you a genuine smile, "You don't have to go yet if you don't want to," She hummed as several people in the circle agreed, acting as if Sirius was being genuine.

This only made your face warm up as you sat up, annoyance all over your face, "Actually Lily, I do think I should go to be fair, I'm actually feeling a bit brave," You sent a mocking smile to Sirius as you dragged the bottle back in the circle and spun it.

As it spun, you nervously bit your lip.

Since the girls were sweet and you could probably get away with just given them a peck, you wouldn't mind if it were any of them.

Or perhaps even Evan, who you liked because he certainly wasn't ugly and genuinely seemed kind.

Even Peter, he would most likely be as nervous as you and you probably wouldn't have to kiss for long.

Just anybody—aside from the three arrogant, blithering, shitheads—

James looked like a deer in headlights as the bottle fell straight onto him. He looked at you, and your expression was exactly the same.

"Well come on lovebirds!" You stood motionless in nervousness as Evan cheered.

You swallowed as James moved towards you slowly, your eyes tracing his every move. His eyes were locked onto you like you were the only person in the room.

Your gaze shifted to Sirius, and his arrogant demeanor had softened; he was now observing you and James differently.

You had never seen Sirius become stiff in his life, but it seemed as though his eyes had darkened and his entire demeanor had shifted.

Remus had almost the same expression when you turned to face him, but he seemed more anxious than anything else, as though he was unsure of what to anticipate.

"Y/N," James said as your gaze returned to him. "I've wanted to do this since last school year," he said softly, in a whisper.

As he leaned in and gave you a gentle peck on the cheek, your expression shifted to one of disbelief.

All outside cheers and hollering had been muffled, making it seem as though you two were the only people in the room. It felt like you could feel every sense ten times more than normal.

After giving you another glance, he moved in and kissed you, feeling his soft, plump lips as his hands gently gripped the sides of your face.

At first, the kiss was tender, with him giving you a deep, meaningful kiss. After that, it began to feel like the stress, the rage, and the words from that evening. His tongue invaded your mouth unexpectedly as a moan escaped from your mouth.

Your mouth fought against his as you both deepened into the kiss, your hands running through his soft curls.

He abruptly pulled away from you, staring at you while you both gasped and caught your breath. You were certain that he couldn't read your expression, but you couldn't read him either.

James was flushed, his chest heaving as he looked at you in astonishment.

You always knew that James was beautiful but in this state he was ethereal.

You were certain that while your state was comparable to his, it was probably not as lovely.

Marlene was the first to speak, "That was more steamy than I thought it would be," while taking a drag from her cigarette.

You were snapped out of your thoughts, "I actually have to be in bed, huge reading to catch up on,"  You said hurried to your feet. You started to hurry away and excused yourself.

Lily said, "Oh, I see. See you tomorrow!" She waved you away, looking a little perplexed and anxious.

--

You gently closed the door, careful to not wake up your roommates as you changed out of your school clothes and into your nightwear.

There were multiple feelings racing through you,

"I've wanted to do this since last school year."

It confused you.

James had been nothing but horrid to you.

All the things he had said about you and how much of a loser you basically were. Now he had wanted to kiss you since last school year? It didn't make sense to you.

And the kiss.

You didn't feel disgusted with it, in fact, you enjoyed it.

Your body was happy in ways you hadn't experienced in a long time, even if your conscious mind wasn't.

But James was a jerk and a boy you had hated all summer, so you couldn't feel that way about him.

In fact, you had promised yourself you wouldn't.

One night couldn't change what you had worked so hard for. You couldn't let them take your self-respect again.

It wasn't worth it.

As you lay in bed, you closed your eyes and wished that the tingles in your body and the restless thoughts in your head would stop.

Hoping to leave this night into some intense nightmare.

"Y/N," When you moaned and shook them off, the voice said, "Don't be a twat right now, I am already about to be late as is, wake up!" You let out a loud grunt and opened your eyes to discover a displeased Penelope staring at you as the loudness of the voice increased.

"Shit, what time is it?" You asked, your eyes widening.

"Time to get to bloody class, have you lost your mind?" As you hurriedly sat up and searched through your cupboard for clothing, she said in an increasingly anxious tone.

With frustration, you groaned, "There's no way I slept in again."

"Um, there is a way," Penelope chuckled. "I've been telling you to fix that janky alarm clock since last school year or to even enchant one but no, you stick with it," She huffed, eyeing said alarm clock with intense hatred.

She crossed her arms and looked at you. "I don't even understand why I wake you up, I should've just gone to class," she said, crossing her arms.

"Because you are a good housemate and friend and you sincerely love me," You replied as she struggled to contain the ghost of a smile. "But as much as you love me, get to class!" You urged, "I'll meet you there."

She looked at you hesitantly, "Are you sure?"

"Go!" You rushed her off as she shrugged, grabbing her bag.

"Don't be late," She winked, leaving and closing the door.

Rolling your tights up your legs before your skirt, you rolled your eyes. Even though you looked like a complete disaster when you looked in the mirror, it was sufficient for the day. You hurriedly put on your shoes, picked up your bag, and left the room.

You practically ran down the hallways in order to get to your class, being warned several times by Professors around you to slow down, you always murmuring an apology before continuing a speed walk.

You finally made it in front of the Charms room, and you slowed down your breathing as you entered. You avoided gazes from the entire class as you started walking to find your seat.

"Oh nice to see you Ms. L/N!" Professor Flitwick happily said, "Please sit next to Mr. Lupin," He instructed before giving you a nod and continuing his lesson.

You weren't surprised that Flitwick wasn't mad at you, he had always been extremely nice to you since you had met him.

Your jaw tensed as Remus watched your movements as you sat next to him.

Remus had eyed you multiple times since you sat down throughout the lesson, his eyes glazing over you every two minutes.

You sighed, "What is it, Lupin?" You asked, your eyes still focused on the front.

He looked shocked that you had spoken to him, "Sorry, what?" He asked, staring at you.

You looked at him, "Well, you have been glancing over at me for about every two minutes now, so I'm assuming you have something to say." You said, his mouth gaping, that you had actually said that to him.

"I just wanna talk about what you overheard last year," He started as your eyes went back to the front.

"I don't want to speak about it," You murmured.

Remus frowned, "I just don't want you to think we meant something we didn't." He said as you scoffed.

"So you didn't mean that I was basically a sad case and that you felt bad for me, you all practically mocked me," You countered.

He fiddled with his fingers, "I know what it sounded like, but I swear-" He began.

Professor Flitwick bellowed, "And for this project, you will work with the pairs behind you." Everyone turned behind them as he spoke.

The idea of working with Lupin made your stomach turn, but you were relieved that others would be working with both of you rather than just him.

However, when you turned to look behind you, your gaze met Sirius, the most annoyingly charming person you couldn't seem to forget.

And James, his accomplice.

You gasped in shock, swearing they had never been there before, and then suddenly they were.

"Oh great love, we are gonna be partners!" Sirius grinned as you instantly got up to persuade Flitwick to change and make up some nonsense justification.

Sirius pouted, "Oh love, I wouldn't do that, you don't want Flitwick thinking you're difficult to work with." You rolled your eyes at him, not falling for it. "He might just not write your recommendation for you to be an Auror," He remarked firmly as your eyes widened.

How could he possibly know what?

You sat back down carefully and glared at him, but all he offered you was a smug smirk. You looked away from the boys before you and crossed your arms.

James cleared his throat. He responded, "Well, I say we work in our dorm tonight," and the boys nodded, showing their agreement.

You scoffed, "Why not the library?" You asked, annoyed.

"Because Madam Pince insists on continuing to convince us that she will forever have a stick up her bum," Sirius said in a hushed tone.

"Well, maybe you should learn to shut your mouth once in a while," You spat, giving him a stern look.

He grinned and said, "I love it when you talk dirty to me." He leaned in closer with a whisper, "And I think you would love my mouth."

Your face contorted to disgust as Remus spoke and glared at Sirius, "We will be on our best behavior, and we will even do the most work." He tried to make the situation better.

"I'm not a charity case, I don't need your help," You remarked.

"Trust me love, we know," He replied with a laugh, "But it's the least we can do,"

You sighed, "Fine, but not too late, I don't want Filch to have his knickers in a twist if I'm coming to my dorms at eleven."

"We'll have you in bed by nine," James said, winking,

You rolled your eyes as you began writing something down in your journal. You felt eyes on you as you looked at all of them, "Problem?" You asked.

They all looked away, and you just gave them a strange look as you continued to write.

They had been extremely more weird than last year.

You shrugged the thought off as you tried to cram in as much of your part of the assignment as you could before having to work with them.

The bell chimed, and you instantly started packing up your quills and papers, shoving them into your bag in hopes of escaping this horrible situation as soon as possible.

"Don't be late tonight," Sirius whispered, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

You scowled at him, "Just hope I show up at all, Black." You said as you stood from your seat.

"Oh, trust me," He whispered as he locked eyes with you, "You will."

You swallowed, quickly trying to exit the classroom. You were starting to believe that this school year was a bizarre dream.

You must've been racing out of the room, considering the out-of-breath voice you heard rushing after you, "Y/N!" You looked to see Lily racing after you as you stopped.

She caught up to you as she tried catching her breath, "Merlin, you walk extremely fast," She huffed, throwing a quick laugh.

"How can I help you, Evans?" You asked, clearly not in the right mood for this conversation.

Her face straightened. "I was just hoping that we could talk about everything." She spoke hopefully.

You sighed, "Lily, now is not the best time." You replied, already starting to turn around.

"But!" Lily moved in front of you, "I just don't want you to think that I never cared about our friendship or forgot about you," She said regretfully.

You scoffed, "Lily, we can both be honest with ourselves." You folded your arms. "We were never friends, and you only pretended we were because you pitied me." You said blankly. Lily's eyes saddened as you continued, "But I'm not saying this to make you feel bad, you are a good and kind person, Lily, but we aren't friends."

Lily paused, "Do you actually believe that?" She asked, fiddling with her fingers.

"I'm surprised you don't." You replied as Lily looked down, "Don't get down on yourself, Lily, it wasn't only you." You laughed lightly.

She mustered up a smile, "Thank you for talking to me." She said before exiting the hall.

You hadn't meant to make Lily feel bad but she couldn't have possibly believed that you guys were friends.

Especially after what you had heard.

You were honestly starting to wish it was Winter break already.

This group project was probably one of the most dreadful things that you have had to do in your life.

But your plan was to finish the rest of your part and go back to your dorm, leaving the Marauders and any chance of communicating with them in that room.

Considering that, you were dressed in just your tank top and sleep shorts, wearing a silk coverall.

You knew it wasn't the most appropriate thing in the world, but there was no way the Marauders would ever see you in that way.

You took a deep breath before trying to knock on the door, but before you could, it swung open. Your eyes widened in surprise as James was looking at you with a flustered look as he eyed you up and down.

You looked at him confused, "Uh hi," You uttered.

He gulped, "Hey." He scratched the back of his head as you clicked your teeth.

"Are you gonna invite me in or just stare at me awkwardly?" You asked.

"Oh, sorry," He spoke quietly, widening the door for you.

You came in with your books pressed to your chest as you spotted Remus already at his desk while Sirius lay on his bed, looking at a magazine.

He looked away from the magazine to you, "Well, isn't this a sight?" He hummed, setting it aside on his dresser.

He stood, coming near you with a smug smile as he stared into your eyes.

"I've come here to actually work on the project, Black." You said sternly, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

"We can't do pleasantries, dollface?" He asked, coming so close that you could smell his signature scent of Ash and a mix of dark chocolate and mint. You looked up at him, almost feeling his breath fanning your face, "Or maybe we can skip them."

You nervously looked into his eyes, the air growing thick.

"Sirius." Remus warned.

You swallowed as Sirius only smirked, moving near Remus. "I'm only joking, Moony, I'm just trying to make dear Y/N feel more welcome." He sat on the leg of Remus's chair.

You exhaled as James spoke, "You can sit on my bed." He smiled, urging you towards it.

"Thanks." You muttered, sitting on his bed.

You were actually surprised by how soft the mattress was, yours felt like a rock compared.

As if he read your mind, James said, "It took fifty bloody spells to figure out how to break in that mattress." He laughed as you gave a slight nod in response.

"Where do you guys want to start?" You asked, "I've already done most of my writing portion and-"

Remus cut you off, "Maybe we could talk first."

You gave him a confused look, "All due respect, I would rather complete the assignment." You replied, opening your book.

It disappeared in your hand as you spotted Sirius with his wand, giving you a shake of his head.

You huffed, "I came here to work on this project, and if we aren't, I would prefer to be elsewhere." You glared at the boys, beginning to stand.

James stopped you, "Once chance, dove." He pleaded as you crossed your arms, "Just one." He spoke softly

You sat back down as you looked at the boys, "I'm listening." You exhaled.

"We know you overheard us that night.

[lionizingheathen]

umm face riding with harry?? pleaseee

Yeah, no problem

Harry Potter x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, oral sex reader receiving, face riding

"You should ride my face." You choked on your own breath for a moment before looking over at your boyfriend, who was tossing around an old ball like he hadn't just said something so forward... He'd gotten more forward after the war, after he was done with all the uncertainty and chaos but Merlin, you'd never be used to it.

"Pardon me?" You asked, your voice breaking over the words as he grinned over at you, seeming equal parts eager and concerned, like he was worried he'd said something wrong, which was not at all the case.

"You... Sorry, is that not something you're interested in?" He asked, tossing the ball aside as he turned towards you, resting his hand on your thigh. You cleared your throat, squeezing your thighs together as you felt your cunt throb at his touch.... Of course you wanted to ride his face, who wouldn't?

"No, i mean... Of course it is I just didn't expect you to be so candid... most people don't just say 'you should ride my face', they beat around the bush a little." You said, feeling a little shaky as you looked at him. All he did was sit up and nod a little, clearing his throat as he pulled his hand away from you.

You missed his touch the second it was gone.

"Normally I would too but I... I've been thinking about it a lot." "About you a lot, and I just... Please ride my face?"

"What if I crush you?" You asked, a question that you knew was stupid the second you looked at his face and saw his confused expression - you hadn't meant to confuse him, all you were saying was what if you fucking killed him? You'd be killing the savior of the wizarding world, that sounded like a terrible thing!

"Huh?" He asked, and you sighed, throwing your hands up before you covered your face with them, embarrassed that you were even thinking about that.

You wanted to disappear.

"I don't want to smother you! That would be mortifying." You said, your tone coming out far more defensive than you had intended. Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you, clearly not even slightly worried about that.

"I'm a big boy, Y/N. I can handle myself." He laid on his back, gesturing you over with a wide smile. "Now c'mere... Ride my face." You snorted, rolling your eyes even as you sat up.

Eager boy.

"I never said yes." He paused then, looking at you expectantly.

"Well...?" He asked, trailing off as you sighed, nodding before you slipped your panties off, seeing the hungry expression on his face.

Down, boy.

"If we do this, and you can't breathe-." He cut you off, waving you off like your concerns for his health were unimportant, but in your opinion they were very important... He needed to listen.

"Obviously I will tell you, now come here, I can't wait much longer." He insisted, and you chuckled, shaking your head even as you swung your thigh over his head, positioning your cunt over his face, pausing before you settled down.

"You're so needy." You said, and he nodded, looking up without any shame... God, he wasn't paying attention to a single word out of your mouth, was he?

"Only because you're fit as hell." He mumbled, bringing his hands up so that he could use his thumbs to spread you open. God, don't stare... "That's like... Part of it." You snorted, shaking your head.

Cute.

"Part of it? Very eloquent, Potter." You said, and he rolled his eyes, finally meeting yours before he spoke.

"Shut up."

"Funny, pretty sure you'll be the one doing-." He pulled you down suddenly, making you let out a gasp as he lapped his tongue over your cunt. You gripped onto the headboard and sighed. "That... Bloody hell..." You mumbled, feeling his fingers dig into your thighs as he buried his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit as you moved your cunt against him.

Oh god...

"Mmm..." Your head was already fucking spinning and he'd hardly even started.

"Oh, that feels... So good." Glasses. "Your glasses, hold on... Hold on, Harry." You breathed, and he groaned when he pulled away, looking at you like you'd committed a crime against him.

Relax, pretty boy.

"I don't care-." You cut him off and carefully removed them from his face, shaking your head. It was cute that he was so eager, but the last thing you needed was any looks from anyone if he showed up to work tomorrow with broken glasses.

"I do. I don't want to explain why there's tape on them tomorrow." You said, and he snorted, shaking his head like it was a non-issue was he wrapped his arms around your thighs.

"I know how to fix my glasses, Y/N." Obviously, but you didn't want to give him a reason why he had to do that... You weren't really in the market of making someone blind.

"Either way." You set them on the nightstand before settling over him again. "There. Now you can go." You said, and he rolled his eyes, but nodded at you.

"Thank you." Perfect.

"So polite..." He lapped his tongue over you frantically, like he was trying to map your cunt and remember each and every fold, every inch from taste alone... God, was there anything he wasn't good at? "Just like that, yes, just like that." You whined, feeling his tongue trace over your clit.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Mmm... Suck my clit, good boy..." You mumbled, grinding down on his face with a sigh, feeling shivers through your whole body... It was no wonder he was good at this, he was already great at giving head and that was something you knew.

"Look so perfect under me... I..." You gasped, feeling a hand leave your thigh, but you didn't think much of it, you were too lost in the feeling of his tongue against you, how he sucked on your clit and moaned like he was in heaven.

Fuck...

"Harry... Please..." You weren't even sure what you were asking for, all you knew was that your orgasm was coming fast, and Harry was too lost in his own world to notice... Or he didn't care and intended to work you right past it, which wouldn't surprise you.

"Close... Getting close." You whined, and Harry nodded under you, letting out a whimper of his own, but you weren't sure why... Hell, you couldn't bring yourself to care, all you knew was that you were gonna cum, and Harry wanted you to.

Really, that was all it took to send you over the edge as you shivered against his face, reaching down to tug his hair as you let out long moans of his name... Fuck, you were seeing stars, and he was not stopping.

"Shitshitshit..." You slumped against the wall, shivering as his tongue continued to move before you slipped off of him and gently pried his face from between your legs, wiping his mouth with your thumb. "Jesus Christ, Potter." You mumbled, watching as he quickly sat up, walking away from you.

Huh?

"What?" He asked, sounding worried, and you were quick to shake your head. All you meant by that was that he made you feel so fucking good.

He reappeared and you grinned, shaking your head as you sat up to meet him with a kiss.

"Nothing... You are marvelous, sweet boy." You said, ruffling your fingers through his hair with a sigh as he spread your legs, carefully cleaning between them with a soft smile, leaving a kiss just above your cunt.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, and you nodded. Obviously that felt good, you would've told him if it hadn't felt good... But it was still nice that he asked.

He was the only guy you'd been with you ever bothered to.

"That felt so good..." You breathed, looking at him with a wide smile as he settled down beside you again. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Mhm... Plenty." He mumbled, and you furrowed your brows before it dawned on you. He'd cum while going down on you.

Fuck, that was hot.

"Oh." You breathed, feeling your cunt throb as you thought about just how turned on he must've been. He must've taken that for disgust, because he cleared his throat and looked away from you, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry if that's off-putting you're just... really hot." He mumbled, and you shook your head, wetting your lips as you looked back at his face, placing your hand against his cheek.

There was nothing wrong with him being excited while you were doing that, or with him handling himself... Your only regret was that it hadn't been your hands.

Next time it would be.

"That's so sexy, honestly." He let out a breath of relief as you dew him in for a long, lingering kiss, resting your foreheads against each other when you pulled away. "Though next time... Let me handle it, okay?" You asked, and he nodded eagerly, smiling widely as he pulled back from you.

Cutie.

"Absolutely." You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him again before speaking.

He just... Demanded it. Something in the way that Harry James Potter existed demanded affection.

"Amazing." You tucked against his chest, listening to the soft hum of his voice and the sound of his heartbeat as you let yourself relax, the serene moment filling your every thought.

Perfection.

[slytherinsimp12]

₊˚⊹♡ 𝓞𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓫𝔂 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮₊˚⊹♡

Pairing: Harry Potter x Lestrange!reader

Summary: Y/N spent her entire life at beauxbatons. Her whole world turned upside down when her mother she never met escaped Azkaban, forcing her to transfer to Hogwarts in her 5th year for her safety. Harry knows he should stay away. She’s a Lestrange, the daughter of the woman who destroyed part of his world. But the more he sees of Y/N, the harder it becomes to believe that blood decides who we are.

Author’s note: Hey cuties! I wrote this fic in a moment of creativity when I decided I wanted to put my A- levels in english to use. This is kinda different from my usual writing style- it’s more bookish vibes ig. I’m also currently working on the entire story- including Y/n’s point of view- from when she finds out about the transfer to living in Malfoy manor till falling for Harry. Let me know if you guys would be interested in reading that. Happy reading xx.

Update- Wrote a sequel

He noticed her the moment she walked in.

She wore the red and gold like it didn’t quite belong to her yet. Her head was high, her gaze unreadable, but not cold. Observant. Detached. Controlled, almost. She sat at the far end of the table, away from the usual clusters of fifth years. Her plate was untouched.

“Who is that?” Harry asked, squinting slightly. Hermione’s head snapped up like she’d been waiting for the question.

“That,” she said, voice low but intense, “is Y/N Lestrange.”

Harry frowned. “Lestrange?”

“As in Bellatrix Lestrange,” Hermione hissed, like the name might hex the table. “She transferred from Beauxbatons. A week ago. After her mother escaped. Apparently Dumbledore had to step in personally to get her in. No other school would take her.”

Harry blinked. “She’s in Gryffindor?”

“Yes!” Hermione waved her fork like it was part of the argument. “No one knows how the hat made that decision, but people are saying stuff about her… you tell him Ron.”

Ron leaned in with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Total nutter, mate. Looks normal, but I heard she hexed a portrait on her first night because it looked at her funny.”

“Ron,” Hermione snapped. “That’s a rumor.”

“Still. Her mum tortured Neville’s parents. She’s bound to be a bit cracked.”

Harry didn’t answer. He was still watching her.

She didn’t look like someone dangerous. Or unhinged. She didn’t carry herself like someone craving attention, or trying to prove anything. She just… was. Quiet. She didn’t laugh when the first years made a mess. She didn’t even look uncomfortable sitting alone.

She looked up suddenly- maybe sensing eyes on her and her gaze met his. Harry froze. It wasn’t cold. Or hostile. It wasn’t even particularly curious. It was just… calm. Like she’d already figured something out about him, and wasn’t surprised.

He dropped his gaze first.

He felt Hermione watching him and shook his head. “She doesn’t seem like—”

“She’s her daughter, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “That doesn’t just go away.”

Harry frowned, but said nothing.

Because something told him this girl was nothing like the story they were trying to write for her.And whether he liked it or not, he wanted to know why.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Harry rounded the corner toward the Fat Lady’s portrait and nearly bumped into someone already standing there.

Y/N Lestrange.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at him, arms folded. “Why won’t she bloody let me in…” She mumbled under her breath.

Harry blinked. “Um… you have to tell her the password.”

“Password?” A puzzled look spread across her face.

“It’s snargaluff root.” Harry said.

The Fat Lady sniffed. “Well finally. I was beginning to think she was just decorating the corridor.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry… first the staircases try to throw me down three times, and now I need to impress a talking portrait to get to bed. What’s next, a hallway that quizzes me on wand theory or eats my shoes if I get it wrong?”

Harry smiled,surprised; he didn’t expect her to be funny.

The portrait swung open with a dramatic sigh. They stepped into the common room together. It was late. The low crackle of the fire filled the room.

Y/N stretched out her hand,

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N Lestrange….” Harry continued, shaking her hand.

“Sorry- I’m Harry.”

“Harry Potter.” She finished.

Harry had seen Bellatrix Lestrange’s face before—smeared across wanted posters, screaming from the memory in Dumbledore’s Pensieve, twisted with madness and cruelty. And yet, no matter how much he stared at Y/N, he couldn’t find even a trace of that face in hers. Her features were softer, steadier. Her eyes weren’t wild; they were soft and kind. There was no madness in her smile. No chaos in the way she was. If anything, she carried herself like someone trying not to be noticed.

Harry glanced at her, curious. “So… you settling in alright?”

Y/N gave a small shrug. “As well as someone with a homicidal mother and a French accent can in a room full of people who think I sleep with a dagger under my pillow.”

Harry blinked, caught between concern and trying not to laugh. “Do you?”

She smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He grinned despite himself. “Only a little.”

“Goodnight, Potter,” she said, already halfway to the stairs.

“Night,” he said, still watching her go.

He sat down on the nearest couch and stared into the fire, frowning.

He didn’t know what was happening.

But he was pretty sure it had just started.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The classroom smelled faintly of parchment, ink, and something burning—probably the result of Neville’s most recent attempt at a Shield Charm. Harry slid into his usual seat in the back corner of Charms, only to realize Ron and Hermione were already mid-whispered conversation across the row.

“He’s doing it again,” Ron muttered, eyes flicking toward the door.

“Of course he is,” Hermione said, sighing. “Three months ago, he barely noticed she existed, and now—”

Harry looked up just as Y/N walked in.

She didn’t make a show of anything. She never did. She just nodded to Professor Flitwick, scanned the room, and made her way toward the empty seat next to him without hesitation.

“Potter,” she said, dropping her bag onto the desk with a small smirk.

He grinned. “Lestrange.”

She arched a brow. “Still not scared of me? You’re losing your touch.”

“Terrified, actually. I’ve just gotten better at hiding it.”

She gave a quiet, sarcastic laugh as she pulled out her wand. Harry caught himself staring again—not at anything in particular, just her. The way her hair fell forward when she leaned over her notes, how her quill moved fast and messy but confident, how she always seemed like she was both in the room and somewhere far away.

Three months ago, she was a stranger with a reputation.

Now, she was… something else.

Class ended too quickly.

As they packed up, Y/N turned to him and said, “Try not to miss me until next period, yeah?”

“You assume I will,” he shot back.

“You always do,” she said with a wink, then disappeared into the hallway crowd.

Harry was still grinning when Ron and Hermione flanked him on both sides.

Hermione didn’t waste time. “You’ve gotten close to her.”

Harry blinked. “Yeah? So?”

Ron frowned. “Mate, we’re not saying you can’t talk to her. Just—don’t forget who her family is.”

“Right,” Hermione added quickly. “We know she’s in Gryffindor, and we’re not saying she’s her mother—but Bellatrix Lestrange isn’t just a name, Harry. She tortured people. She killed people.”

Harry exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I know who her mum is. Believe me. But Y/N’s not like her. She’s—”

“What?” Ron asked, folding his arms. “Different? Misunderstood? The ‘funny, cool’ kind of Lestrange?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. The thing was, he didn’t have a clear reason. Just… a feeling. A pull. When he was around her, the world quieted down. She didn’t treat him like the Chosen One. She didn’t flinch at his past or parade hers. She was just real.

“I don’t know what she is,” he said honestly. “But she’s not her mother. And I’m not going to treat her like she is.”

Hermione sighed, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press further.

As they walked to their next class, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about that last look Y/N gave him.

The way she smiled—not sweet, not soft, but like she saw him and didn’t care who he was supposed to be.

And maybe that’s what scared him most.

Because every time he looked at her, he felt himself slipping.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The library was quiet. A few students sat hunched over textbooks, and Madam Pince watched them all like they might steal the shelves. Harry hadn’t planned on staying long. He came in looking for notes on their DADA essay, but he hadn’t made much progress—mostly because Y/N was sitting across from him.

She was reading, her quill tucked behind her ear, hair falling slightly over one eye as she leaned over her book. She made a face—half confused, half annoyed—and Harry caught himself smiling.Then she looked up.

He dropped his gaze to his own book too quickly. Definitely too obvious.

“You’ve been on the same sentence for twenty minutes,” she said.

Harry looked up slowly. “Just… taking it in.”

She smirked. “That parchment must be very moving.”

He let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. The writer really captured the emotional arc of ‘Wand Movements: A Historical Analysis.’”

Y/N tilted her head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Harry leaned back in his chair. “And you’re surprisingly good at reading people.”

She looked at him for a second. Not teasing. Not sarcastic. Just… quiet.

“I’ve had practice,” she said softly.

He wasn’t sure what made him ask, but the words came out before he could stop them. “Do you miss it? Beauxbatons?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. She looked down at her hands, turning her quill between her fingers.

“Sometimes. It was cold, the rules were insane, and the food was too pretty to eat… but no one looked at me like I was a walking headline.”

Harry nodded slowly. “We’re good at that here.”

“Yeah.” She gave a dry laugh.

Harry’s gaze didn’t leave her face. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

She looked up again, and this time, she didn’t look away. Her voice was quiet, but steady.

“You don’t believe I’m like her, do you?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure he could. Because everything in his life- every reason, every scar, every instinct, should’ve told him to run.

But instead, he said, “No. I don’t.”

Something shifted then. Barely a breath. But it was there. It was there in the way her eyes softened with relief. The way her lips parted slightly, like she might say something else, but didn’t.

Harry’s heart was beating faster than it should have been.

She looked away first this time. “Good. Because I’m tired of pretending I’m not afraid I might be.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said.

Y/N looked back up at him, startled.

“Whenever you forget who you are,” Harry said, voice low, “I’ll remind you.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Hogsmeade in winter was something out of a postcard—snow lining the rooftops, warm butterbeer fogging up frosted windows, students crunching along the path in thick scarves. For once, Harry wasn’t thinking about the cold, or even the war.

He was thinking about her.

Y/N walked beside him, her gloved hands buried in her coat pockets, cheeks flushed from the wind. She was quiet—but not in the withdrawn way she got around others. It was the kind of quiet that felt easy, like she didn’t need to fill the silence. Like just walking next to him was enough.It was.

They were just passing Honeydukes when the voice came from behind.

“Well, well,” drawled Draco Malfoy. “Didn’t think I’d find a Lestrange slumming it with Potter.”

Y/N stopped, jaw tightening

Draco stepped forward, his smirk already venomous. “Your mum would be so proud. First Gryffindor, now roaming with a half-blood. You’re practically a Weasley in disguise.”

Y/N’s face didn’t move, but her hands curled slightly at her sides.

Draco kept going. “What do you think she’d say if she saw you now? Holding hands with the ‘Chosen one’, cozying up to the very people she wanted dead? Guess blood doesn’t mean much when you’re desperate to belong.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry said sharply.

Draco snorted. “What, going to defend your little project? You think she’s some tragic misunderstood soul? She’s just like the rest of her family. She’ll break the second you trust her.”

Harry didn’t think. He just drew his wand.

A second later, Draco was knocked flat on the icy path, skidding backward like someone had yanked the floor out from under him.

He groaned, sitting up and glaring. “You’re going to regret that—”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure your tongue sticks to the next stone wall,” Harry snapped.

Draco scrambled to his feet and stalked off, muttering curses and clutching his side.

Harry turned back to Y/N. A single tear trickled down her cheeks

“Hey,” Harry said softly, stepping closer. “He’s wrong. All of it.”

They ended up at the Three Broomsticks, a quiet corner table, where no one could see them. Two mugs of butterbeer sat untouched between them, steam curling in the golden light.

Y/N leaned forward slightly. “You didn’t have to hex him.”

“Felt good though,” he said, and she gave a small laugh. There was a pause. And then,

“Thank you…” Y/N whispered.

They sat in silence for a long moment, the steam from their butterbeer curling between them. Her eyes were still a little glassy, cheeks still flushed from anger, from cold, from everything. Harry couldn’t stop looking at her.

Before he could change his mind, Harry leaned across the table, slow but certain, one hand reaching out to brush her hair gently behind her ear. Her breath caught. Her eyes didn’t leave his.And then, he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. Not completely. It was hungry, like the tension between them had finally snapped and neither of them cared what happened next. Her hand came up to his collar, gripping the edge of his scarf, pulling him closer like she’d been holding that impulse in for weeks. Months. She kissed him like she was daring him to regret it.

And he kissed her like he already knew he never would.

When they broke apart, barely a breath between them, her forehead rested against his, her voice low and unsteady.

“You really are reckless, Potter.”

Harry’s lips brushed a smile against hers. “Takes one to know one.”

She laughed quietly, nervous and thrilled all at once, and Harry realized his heart hadn’t slowed down since the second their lips met.

Then, almost a whisper, he said, “You know… they can say whatever they want. About who you are, who she was. But you’re not her. Not even close.”

He tilted his head, brushing her knuckles with his fingers.

“But I’m still a Lestrange…” Y/N trailed off.

“Only by Name.” Harry smiled, pulling her into a tight embrace.

[blondykebarbie]

Pretty Boy

Harry Potter x fem!reader

WC: 563

CW: mentions of the Dursleys being neglectful; FLUFF

Summary: You love to make your boyfriend embarassed

Day 21 of mk's mad dash

Sadly, your boyfriend grew up without any affection from his family. So, it was no surprise that any affection he was shown was foreign to him. And, in some cases, maybe even a little embarrassing. You remembered the early days of your relationship- how even a peck on his cheek or a hug would make him blush furiously. With time, of course, he became more comfortable in your affection and even initiated it himself. Still, occasionally, you were able to bring back out his shy side, intentionally or not. 

In this instance, you were very intentional about trying to make your boyfriend blush. After he’d called you pretty girl a few weeks ago and left you a flustered mess, you were determined to get revenge. 

You decided to act completely unassuming, only throwing the term of endearment back in his face when he was most vulnerable and sweet in your arms. 

After a long Friday of classes, you brought Harry back to your dorm to cuddle and relax, simply enjoying one another’s presence. You snuck some food from the kitchens that now left you both feeling stuffed and satisfied. In your current position you were laying sprawled out, back on the bed and Harry nearly entirely on top of you.

In your post-dinner bliss, you two had gone mostly silent, reveling in each other’s company and touch. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through Harry’s wild black hair, pursuing a pointless mission of trying to untangle his curls. 

Your boyfriend’s face was buried in your neck, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to your skin when the urge presented itself. 

When your fingers made their way to the nape of his neck, Harry hummed softly against you.

“Feel good, Haz?”

“Yeah, baby. So good. Love when you play with my hair,” he sighed.

You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, “Good. You deserve to be spoiled, you know.”

“Why? ‘Cos my parents are dead?” he mumbled.

To those who didn’t know your boyfriend, this type of comment would’ve left them floored. But for you, who was used to his dark humor, you only laughed disbelievingly, squeezing his arm chidingly, “Harry!”

“Well?”

You pressed another fond kiss against his skin, this time to his cheek, “You deserve to be spoiled because I love you and because you’re a sweet boy.”

Then more quietly you whispered, “my sweet boy.”

Harry raised his head from its home in your neck and pecked your lips lovingly, “love you, baby.”

You knew that now was the time to strike. 

“I love you too, my pretty boy.”

Your boyfriend’s face went from loving to embarrassed in seconds, his brown skin coloring red. 

He whined and buried his face back in your neck.

“What’s wrong my love,” you asked teasingly.

“You know what’s wrong,” he grumbled, “you did it on purpose.”

“Did what on purpose?”

Harry looked back up at you, the most adorable pout gracing his lips, “You called me…. pretty boy…. just to make me embarrassed.”

“I said what I meant,” you answered honestly, “though the teasing was a benefit.”

Your boyfriend continued to pout at you, “I hate you.”

“You love me,” you reminded him, “Otherwise you wouldn’t feel so embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, pretty girl.”

And damn him, because now you were the one left a blushing mess.