#archived. rita skeeter

[starchaseriseverything]

James looks at Regulus' beautiful sunlit face. The sun is rising, and birds are chirping. It's the best day ever.

James resists the urge to kiss down Regulus' body until he wakes up. Instead, he gets dressed and shuts Regulus' door behind him.

James hears a door open at the other end of the hall. He turns toward the sound slowly and sees one of his best friends. He lets out a breath. It's not Sirius. Thank god.

James thinks for a minute.

That's Sirius' room.

Remus just came out of Sirius' room.

James laughs quietly. "I knew it." He whispers. "I fucking knew it."

"Shut up, James." Remus says, stalking over to him.

James smiles. "I knew it."

"What are you doing here?"

"Everyone already knows. It's obvious."

"Sirius doesn't."

Another door opens. Alice? James smiles in victory. "Knew it."

James and Marlene talk every week and when they start to get suspicious of someone, they take guesses to who their shagging.

Apparently, so far, James has got them right. Alice and Narcissa, Remus and Sirius, Mary and Lily, and even Dorcas and Marlene. He couldn't believe he got that one.

"You knew what?" Alice asks.

"I knew that you were shagging Cissa."

Alice rolls her eyes and walks over to them. "You're both standing in front of Regulus' door. I'm assuming James is the one shagging him and Remus is shagging Sirius." James eyes go wide. "It's obvious."

"Fair enough." Another door opens, and out comes Emmeline Vance, a Ravenclaw. "Emmeline Vance. Nice to see you." Emmeline turns around so fast that James thought she had to have had whiplash. "Pandora? Really?"

Emmeline Smirks. "No, don't even start that sentence." Remus says, holding his hand up to stop her.

They hear footsteps around the corner, and before they could hide, Ted comes into view. "My god." Emmeline says. "Andromeda. Definitely."

"Yeah, definitely." James replies, agreeing with her.

"My god. I thought you were Orion and Walburga." Ted says startled.

"Good for you, we're not." Alice says. She pauses. "Good for us too."

"What are you all doing here?" A voice asks. Rita.

"No way!" Emmeline shouts.

"Shut up." James says.

"Sorry."

"Bellatrix. You're shagging Bella." James smiles. "Marls owes me so much gallons."

"Can we not?" Another voice sounds. Barty.

"I'm even more rich." James says proudly.

"How good are you at guessing?" Alice asks.

"Pretty good, actually. I even guessed Marls and Cas."

"Damn." Barty says, surprised.

Multiple doors open, and Evan, Pandora, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda come out in the hallway. "What is going on?" Bellatrix asks.

Pandora smiles. "Panda? What are you smiling about?" Her brother, Evan, asks.

"Nothing."

James purses his lips. "Yeah, I'm gonna go before Siri comes out. Right Al?"

"Yep, coming."

Narcissa grabs Alice' arm. "Not so fast. We're going back in. Yeah?"

While Alice is debating, James hears another door open but doesn't see which one. "Mon soleil?" Regulus asks. "Holy shit."

James turns around and sees his boyfriend. "Hey, mi estrella."

"What is going on?"

Barty smiles. "Sirius is about to come out any minute."

Sure enough, Sirius comes out of his room. "Mon crossiant de lune?" Sirius looks around. "Alice!? James!?"

Alice purses her lips. "I'll take you up on that offer now." She says to her girlfriend, and they go back in Narcissa' room.

"What the fuck?"

Remus walks over to Sirius and starts pushing him slowly back in his room. "Let's go back in, fy nghariad."

Sirius grumbles, turns around to go back in, and stops. "We will talk about this later, Prongs." They go back in.

"So, that happened." Pandora says.

"I say we do the same and go back in our rooms, yeah?" Emmeline says.

They all agree and go back in. "Come on, mon soleil." Regulus says.

"I should really go."

Regulus starts kissing up James' jaw line. He stops. "Are you sure?"

James grumbles and drags his boyfriend back in the room.

[nidamae-approvedhpfanfics]

As It Should Be

By CelestialSeaWitch

Five years post-war, life is going well for the Golden Trio. The Wizarding World is slowly pulling itself back together, the Trio have jobs and lives, and despite the terrible new Minister in place, everything is exactly as it should be. Well, everything will be exactly as it should be thanks to the new marriage law.

Harry Potter, M, English, Romance & Humor, chapters: 23, words: 159k+, favs: 1k+, follows: 2k+, updated: May 8, 2024 published: May 17, 2019, [Hermione G., Harry P.] Teddy L.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275128

Language: English Words: 152,919 Chapters: 23/23

Show warnings: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Teddy Lupin, Romance, Comedy, marriage law, Post War, Post Hogwarts, child fic, marriage fic, Marriage Law Challenge, Parenting, Pregnancy, Drama, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Healer Harry Potter, Harry Potter Raises Teddy Lupin, Adopted Teddy Lupin

[autumnweeen]

Summary: Rita Skeeter is doing her thing again, and Hermione is not having it.

Draco doesn’t mind being featured in the Prophet, except this time, it could ruin his friendship with Granger.

And he’s grown rather fond of having her close.

Beautiful portraits by Tea @leavesinacup on IG

[ficsloverblog]

HEYYY!!! So it was me who asked about Rita 🤭

I have pulled this from the archives of my brain, You and Rita go out with work colleagues celebrating a successful article. Maybe she puts her hand on your thigh and she’s noticed your reaction and then she decides to take it somewhere😏

In the Margin

Rita Skeeter x fem!reader

A/N: Alice, I was absolutely OBSESSED with this prompt. Apologies for any mistakes you might find, I wrote this while high as a kite on my endometriosis pain meds. Thank you for your request! 🫶🏻

The lounge buzzes with the low hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and the smell of firewhisky and ink still clinging to everyone’s clothes. The article had hit the Prophet this morning, and by lunchtime, your name had been whispered across half the Ministry. A success. Thanks, in part, to Rita's headline magic.

She's sitting beside you on the plush emerald couch, all sharp nails and sharper smiles, glittering like a beetle in the candlelight. You’ve worked with her long enough to know that when Rita leans in too close, it’s never just to be heard better.

You’ve been watching her out of the corner of your eye for the better part of an hour.

She hasn’t touched you but her presence is overwhelming. The brush of her sleeve against yours as she leans over to pass someone a napkin. The slow drag of her nail along the rim of her glass. The way her perfume curls into your space, thick with lilies and something darker, like ink left to dry too long.

At some point, she turns to you, eyes catching yours beneath the glint of her glasses.

“You’re quiet,” she says, head tilting ever so slightly. “Still soaking in your first real taste of scandal?”

You smile, trying not to let it falter under her gaze. “Maybe I just prefer to observe.”

“Mmm.” Her voice hums low, like she enjoys that answer more than she lets on. “I do love an audience.”

Later, well past the height of the celebration, she suddenly places her hand on your thigh. No grand gesture, no words to accompany it. Just her palm, warm through the fabric of your trousers, fingers splayed gently. She doesn’t even look at you at first.

You freeze just for a moment. She notices.

Her thumb strokes, slow and absentminded, as if she’s merely thinking. But her nails tap, tap, tap against you with calculated rhythm.

“You’re tense,” she murmurs. “Is it me?”

Your mouth opens, but no answer comes out. She chuckles softly and turns just enough to look at you fully.

“I can stop,” she says, and it sounds genuine. But there’s challenge in it, too. “If you’d rather I didn’t.”

The room continues around you. The others are laughing, drinking, caught in their own orbits. But Rita’s watching you now. Waiting.

And her hand stays right where it is.

If anything, her touch grows bolder by staying exactly where it is, anchored on your thigh like a quiet claim. Her thumb continues its lazy circles, light enough to make your skin twitch beneath the fabric, just heavy enough to keep your attention rooted there.

No one else seems to notice. They’re busy arguing about whose headline had the most reach, whose quote made it past the editor uncut. But Rita—Rita notices everything.

“I do hope I’m not distracting you,” she purrs, voice dipped in silk and honey. “You seem awfully flushed for someone just enjoying the party.”

You glance at her, trying for composure, but it’s impossible to hide the way your pulse has jumped. Her lipstick is barely smudged from her glass, and her smile is that kind of deliberate. Too perfect to be careless, too practiced to be innocent.

“I thought you said I looked tense,” you murmur back, managing something close to confidence.

“I did,” she says, pleased. “I rather like you this way. On edge. Alert. Makes me wonder what you’re imagining.”

She shifts a little closer, crossing her legs so her knee brushes yours. The touch is electric.

“You know,” she adds, her voice low now, meant only for you, “when I first took you on, I wasn’t sure you’d be quite so fun.”

Her hand creeps a breath higher. Not enough to scandalize anyone watching. Just enough for you to feel it.

“But here you are,” she murmurs, as if she’s noting something curious about a rare plant. “Squirming under my hand, pretending you’re still listening to Fletcher go on about column lengths.”

You hadn’t been.

She leans in, her perfume wrapping around you again, thick and heady.

“I wonder,” she whispers, close enough for her lips to nearly graze your ear, “what would happen if I moved my hand just a little higher.”

A pause.

“Or if I didn’t.”

Her fingers flex once, teasing pressure, then return to gentle stillness, and she leans back with maddening nonchalance to take another sip of her drink.

As if she hadn’t just rewired every nerve in your body with a single touch.

You’re hyper-aware of her now.

Not just her hand, still warm, still anchoring you with just enough pressure to make your skin hum, but of everything. The way her leg grazes yours now and then, the soft laugh she lets out at a colleague’s joke that you’re no longer following, the glint of her glasses as she turns her head slightly toward you, just enough to remind you she knows.

Still, she doesn’t speak to it again. Not directly.

She makes no move to escalate, no grand gesture to force clarity. She leaves her hand right where it is. As if this is perfectly normal. Something she might do to anyone, really. As if it’s you who’s reading too much into it.

But you know better.

You catch her watching you once, just a flick of her gaze over the rim of her glass. Her smile doesn't quite reach her mouth, but her eyes gleam with something private. Amusement, maybe. Satisfaction.

She’s testing you.

You shift your weight, trying to ease the tension coiled in your core. Her hand responds with the faintest curl of her fingers, a feather-light graze just above your knee. Not enough to be inappropriate, not unless someone really looked. But the implication lingers like smoke.

The conversation around the table drifts toward another scandal—an upcoming Wizengamot hearing—and Rita finally speaks up.

“Oh, that case,” she says, drawing every eye back to her with practiced ease. “I’ve already started drafting my piece. I imagine the fallout will be delicious.”

Her nails tap your thigh with each word of that last sentence. Deliberate. Subtle.

You glance at her, and she catches your gaze.

She doesn’t smirk this time. Doesn’t grin. Just holds your eyes for a second too long, her expression unreadable.

And then, as if nothing at all is out of place, she lifts her hand from your leg, picks up her drink, and turns to someone else to make a clever, biting remark about the Minister’s latest haircut.

You're left sitting there. Warm, aching, breath caught in your chest. Not sure if you imagined the whole thing.

Except you didn’t.

You feel the absence of her hand like a phantom heat. And when she laughs again, you swear she leans just a little closer than before.

The night winds down in pieces. One by one, colleagues slip out with farewells half-slurred and promises to do it again soon. Laughter fades, chairs scrape, glasses are abandoned. The table thins until it's only the two of you left in the lounge—quiet now, except for the soft clink of Rita’s rings against her glass and the distant croon of a singing portrait.

Neither of you mentions the others leaving.

She tips back the last of her champagne, sets the glass down with a soft chime, and turns to you like she has all the time in the world.

“Well,” she says lightly, “looks like it’s just us.”

You should go. That would be the smart thing. Say goodnight, thank her for the drink, for the night, for her part in the article, and leave with your dignity and your nerves still mostly intact.

But you don’t move.

She watches you for a moment, her expression unreadable in the low light. Then she leans back, crossing her legs with a slow, languid motion. The hem of her skirt slips just a little higher.

“Funny,” she muses, tapping a nail against her bottom lip, “I always imagined you as more of a flight risk.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Oh, not at all,” she says, smiling now, but not sweetly. “I think you’re very brave. Just… careful. Observant.”

Her eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up. The room is too quiet for that glance to go unnoticed.

“That’s why I like working with you,” she continues, softer now. “You see things. Feel the weight of them.”

Another beat. Her voice lowers.

“Like my hand on your thigh.”

It’s not a question, but she leaves space for denial if you want it.

You swallow. The air between you has shifted, thickened into something taut and waiting.

“What are you doing, Rita?” you ask quietly.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blush. Of course she doesn’t.

“I’m seeing how close I can get,” she says, “before you ask me not to.”

She leans in—not touching, not quite—just close enough that you feel the warmth of her skin, the scent of her perfume laced with something darker now. Smoke. Spice. Heat.

Close enough that one tilt of your head would end the question hanging between you.

But she doesn’t move.

Neither do you.

Eventually, she smiles again. This time softer, smaller.

“I’ll walk you out,” she says, rising smoothly, as if this had only ever been about courtesy. “Unless you’d rather stay.”

And she leaves it at that.

You should get up. Should follow her to the door and let the night end with a careful nod and a few lingering questions left unanswered.

But you don’t.

You stay seated.

And she notices.

Rita pauses a few steps ahead, half-turned, watching you with something like curiosity, but deeper. Quieter. Her expression shifts, lips parting just slightly as if to say something, but she doesn’t. She only walks back.

Slowly.

Her heels echo across the floor, sharp and deliberate, until she’s standing in front of you. She doesn’t sit again. Doesn’t touch you.

Instead, she looks down at you, searching, as if she’s still deciding whether you’ve truly stayed for her, or for the unanswered question between you.

“You don’t do this often,” she says, but not like a tease. It’s almost gentle.

You tilt your head. “Do what?”

“Stay when you shouldn’t.” Her voice is quieter now, tinged with something unfamiliar. Restraint, maybe. Or care. “Let people get too close.”

You hold her gaze. “Do you?”

She smiles. Just a little. “Only when I know they want me to.”

Her hand lifts, and for the first time tonight, you feel it against your skin. Bare this time. Fingertips graze the line of your jaw, soft and fleeting. Not possessive. Not demanding.

Just a touch. An ask.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I didn’t ask you to stop earlier,” you say.

“I noticed.”

Silence stretches between you again, warm and loaded.

She steps closer, knees brushing yours. Her hand falls back to her side, not because she’s changed her mind, but because she’s leaving the next move to you.

“I’m not going to kiss you,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “Not unless you tell me you want it.”

Her tone is velvet, calm, composed, but it’s not a game. Not now. Her eyes are steady on yours, and for the first time, you see it: underneath the glamour, the gloss, the sharp smiles, there’s someone holding their breath just like you are.

Waiting.

Trusting.

Choosing not to take, but to ask.

You move before you can talk yourself out of it.

Just a shift forward. Barely anything, really, but her eyes flicker with something fierce and focused the moment she realizes what it means. She doesn’t lean in. She waits, exactly as she said she would, like she’s holding the thread of this moment taut in her hands.

So you close the space.

Your hand finds the edge of her blazer, fingers brushing the smooth line of it as you stand, just enough so your face is level with hers. She smells like champagne and some kind of flower that only blooms after dark.

There’s the briefest pause, one last second to change your mind.

But you don’t.

Your lips find hers, soft and tentative at first, like you’re still unsure this is really happening. Like you need to test the shape of her mouth, the pace of her breath, the way her fingers twitch against her side when your hand grazes her waist.

She kisses you back like she’s been thinking about this longer than she’ll ever admit. Slow, purposeful, her lips parting just slightly like she wants to savor every inch of the moment. Her hand lifts to the back of your neck, not to pull you closer, but just to hold you there. Steady. Present.

It’s not rushed. It’s not desperate.

It’s deliberate.

When she finally pulls back, her lips are still barely touching yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“Well,” she murmurs, lips curved in a pleased, private smile. “So much for restraint.”

You smile too, your heart thudding loud enough you’re sure she can hear it.

And when she kisses you again—just once, just to make sure you don’t regret it—you lean in without hesitation.

[kuyarecom]

Happy Wife, Happy Marriage, Happy Life

There have been rumours going around that the Minister's marriage to his wife is falling apart, heart-wrenching to hear when we all remember the exciting festivities back when they first joined in holy matrimony - apparently the Minister has been cheating on other women and his wife is not denying the cheating allegations! Will we be subjected to a divorce file in the Wizengamot soon? Or will they rekindle their passion as husband and wife before that disaster occurs? 

-Rita Skeeter

or; Harry Riddle is not happy as Minister Riddle's wife.

it's tomarry big bang week!! and here is my participation for it. many thanks to queasy for the art they did that inspired my fic!!

thank you again queasy <33

[dhr-ao3]

The Secret Life of Hermione Granger

The Secret Life of Hermione Granger https://ift.tt/BOUSChw by swift_knight “I’m leaving,” Hermione responded, turning on her heels and walking back the way her son had come from as she clutched him close to her chest. The boy watched them over his mother’s shoulder and Harry’s stomach dropped. He had seen this blonde-haired, grey-eyed child before. One week earlier, in a picture sitting on Draco Malfoy’s desk. The same Draco Malfoy that has spent the time since the war ended living in France. And Malfoy never named his wife. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hermione Granger married Draco fucking Malfoy and had a kid with him. Words: 7548, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter, James Sirius Potter, Rita Skeeter, Kingsley Shacklebolt Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-War, Post-Hogwarts, Secret Relationship, Established Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, POV Hermione Granger, POV Draco Malfoy, Daily Prophet (Harry Potter), Ron Weasley Bashing, Jealous Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley is a bitter ex, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Padma Patil/Blaise Zabini, Minor Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Good Slytherins, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Auror Draco Malfoy, DILF Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Found Family via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/xCkdDyI February 25, 2025 at 04:09AM

[bitkahuna]

“I beat the second challenge.”

“Fuck you.” Ron laughed, taking deep breaths.

“The others will probably be back soon.”

Multiple reporters descended upon him, rowing their boats closer to the docks in order to get a scoop on the fastest competitor and Boy Who Lived. Picture after picture was taken of his charming smile amongst the partial mer-features as he bobbed in the water. He didn’t notice the way the flashes of cameras shrank his pupils to slits. The question that rang out was how the hell he did it so quickly. But he insisted that he was lucky enough to pick the right direction and swam much quicker than the rest with his webbed appendages.

Another asked about a recent exposé on Hagrid, in which it was “revealed” that he is half-giant.

Wrong question. Harry’s known for a while that he can only use innocence and tears for so long. If he’d learned anything from Knockturn Alley, it was that any given ploy for innocence has a time limit, and frankly Harry knew that he would always be underestimated. He didn’t have to keep playing the innocent. He was growing older. There were enough front-page pictures of his injuries to prove he was not innocent. If Rita Skeeter wanted to publish private conversation about his new piercings, then fine, maybe this was the beginning of a new era for Harry Potter.

Harry put on a bit of a confused smile. “Oh, well, yes. I’ve found it very concerning that people were surprised by that. They say not enough people get their eyes checked and that more people could do with glasses than actually wear them. I find it a wonderful public service campaign on the importance of getting your eyes checked.”

He heard Ron, still laying on the docks above him, let out a surprised laugh at the cheek.

“But what about the dangers?”

Harry smiled to himself as spite broiled inside of him. This was a radio reporter. They were live.

Perfect.

“To make sure I understand,” he began, letting his Siren charm leak out of him. His charms, he’d noticed, made him much more well-spoken, and if he is going to kill the public attention on Hagrid, he’s got to do it in one hit, and he has to make it hurt. “One of the gentlest and kindest men I’ve ever met, the faithful groundskeeper of Hogwarts who teaches students how to make magical animal friends, is outed for being half-giant, despite it already having been very obvious, and people are now concerned for the safety of students?”

The reporter swallowed, feeling as though he was about to somehow give the wrong answer. “Yes?”

“The backlash against Dementors made sense and gave Dumbledore the support he needed to convince the Ministry to call them off. But now, you’re concerned for the man who stood between students and Dementors on multiple occasions and has a history of protecting students these last few years. If you want to show concern for the safety of students, show concern for a danger that is real. I just fought a dragon. There are students down there who may or may not be drowning. And you’re concerned over the obvious half-giant who has been groundskeeper for years without incident? It doesn’t sound like you’re worried for students, it just sounds like you don’t like giants.“

Above him, Ron let out a soft laugh. He’d never understood how Harry dealt with the media circus. How that charming smile was second-nature to him. Of course, he had no idea it came from years of practice hiding signs of abuse. But in this moment, hearing his friend defend Hagrid in such a well-spoken and absolute manner. He got it.

The redhead sat up, shooting the reporter a grin. “Harry doesn’t like bullies.”

-----

[kayessbeebeebeee]

Fic Name: Courting the Prince

Writer: sorendeimos

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape, Sirius Black/Severus Snape, James Potter/Severus Snape, Lily Evans/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy/Severus Snape, Regulus Black/Severus Snape, Mulcifer Jr./Severus Snape, Charity Burbage/Severus Snape

Characters: Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Mulcifer Jr, Charity Burbage, Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Regulus Black, Rita Skeeter, Avery Jr, Wilkes, Aurora Sinistra

Tags: Social Media, Twitter, Severus Snape-centric, Marauders Era, No-War AU

Summary:

Chapters: 4/?

Words: 2,656 (lots of photos/edits/etc..)

Published: 2024

[not-a-taken-username]

just make out already

by: notatakenusername

chapters: 4/4 complete, 20.2k words, drarry

summary: After the war, Hogwarts students are ready to start another year to make up for what they lost. However, some things simply don’t change. Snape (his portrait) is still a git, Malfoy’s still a pillock, and Rita Skeeter’s articles have only gotten worse. Like, way worse. When Harry finds himself getting caught in rumors from an out-of-context photo of him and Malfoy, he’s forced to defend himself, and all the while, reconsider his own feelings. Little does Harry know, he’s not the only one who’s noticed these things, and unpredicted friendships are working behind the scenes.

snippet from chapter two:

“Shut up , Malfoy! I’ve never done anything of the sort!” Potter said, fisting his robes. The crowd, which had slowly been getting larger as their argument got louder, let out a collective gasp. Draco’s stomach twisted. 

…In anger, and nothing else.

“ You shut up! This is all your fault!” 

“How is it my —” 

“Aww! They’re in a lover’s quarrel!” a Ravenclaw third-year exclaimed from the crowd. Potter’s face burned from mortification. 

“No!” Potter said, immediately dropping Draco’s robes. “No, we aren’t even—” 

“If only you just shut up, Potter, maybe this would’ve never—” 

“Me?!” Potter practically shrieked, cutting Draco off. “Oh fuck you, Malfoy—” 

“No, fuck you , Potter—”

“Is this foreplay?” a Slytherin seventh-year nearby deadpanned. Potter’s face got impossibly redder. 

“No! No, it’s not! I’m not gay—” 

“I’d never date this prat—” 

“Aww! They’re trying to keep their relationship a secret!” 

“NO! No, we aren’t dating! I’d never date him!” 

“Guys, it’s okay! You can make up your lover’s quarrel with a kiss!” 

“NO! NO!”

[riverxsong-ao3]

Chapter 28: The Maze

“The two of you,” Mrs Weasley said, smiling. “I’ve rarely seen two so fond, so young, particularly considering… well, your parents. It’s a good thing, I think. I’ve read what Rita Skeeter’s said about you, but she must be wrong, same as she is about our Ginny. You’re a good young man, Tom. I’m glad Harry has someone like you by his side.”

“Right,” Sirius added, sounding slightly strangled. “Just so long as you don’t turn against him, or use him for his fame, or –”

“Sirius Black!” Mrs Weasley admonished. “I can’t believe you’d think such a thing! I’ve known these boys longer than you have – and don’t you go pulling the godfather card on me, I know you were locked up unfairly – but I’ve seen them together, and I can tell you from a mother’s experience that Tom loves Harry beyond all possible doubt. He’d never use him for any kind of gain, personal or otherwise.” 

Something in Sirius’ expression seemed to soften then, as if Molly Weasley’s words had at last broken through months of suspicion and apprehension, his fear that this stray piece of the Dark Lord’s soul come to life had dark designs for Harry finally quelled, at least to an extent. Smiling, Tom let his own eyes close as well, the soft grass cushioning his head, and he slipped effortlessly into a light slumber, not quite asleep, but warm and content under the midday sun.

“Wormtail,” he said, more of a hiss than actual speech. “Are preparations complete?””

“Y-yes, my Lord,” whimpered the quivering, useless, waste of a man grovelling on the floor before him, too afraid to look at him. “E-everything is in place for the ritual, and the sacrifice has been secured. By the end of the night, you will have human form once more.”

“Fool!” Tom snarled. “I am, and will be, far greater than human! Do not make that mistake again, Wormtail!”

“I-I’m sorry, my Lord!” Wormtail cried. “Please, have mercy! Please, no –”

It was too late: Tom raised his wand, a cruel smile spreading across his face in anticipation of torturing the man into near oblivion. He drew in a sharp breath and –

“Tom!” Someone was shaking him. Sirius. “Tom, wake up!”

He opened his eyes. He was still on that same patch of grass, Harry blinking awake in his arms, a look of horror plastered across his features. Above him, Sirius, Molly, and Bill were all looking down at them warily.

[starchaseriseverything]

Bellatrix Black was always one to follow the rules. she had never once betrayed her family or bloodline.

She had arrived at Hogwarts for her first year. Her sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa, weren't old enough to come yet. She was nervous and scared.

She was always taught never to be scared, but sometimes she couldn't help it.

***

Everyone from the noble house of Black has always been sorted into Slytherin. If someone was sorted into any other, they would most likely be disowned.

No one from the Black family was ever sorted into Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor. Only Slytherin.

Thankfully, she was sorted into Slytherin.

***

"I'm Bellatrix Black. It's nice to meet you."

"Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Rita Skeeter."

***

It's finally her third year and has her younger sister, Andromeda, with her.

She spots Rodolphus with a younger boy who looks to be about Andromeda' age. "Rodolphus!" Bellatrix yells at her friend.

"Bella, who's this?" Rodolphus asks, walking towards them with the younger boy.

The younger boy looks like her friend, just not quite. "This is my younger sister, Andromeda."

"Hi." Andromeda says, hiding behind her older sister.

"Dro, don't be shy."

She comes out from behind her sister and holds out her hand. "Hi, I'm Andromeda Black."

"Rabastan Lestrange." They shake hands.

"Bella! Rod!" Rita comes up beside them. "Who are they?" She gasps. "Oh my god. That's Andromeda. Don't know him, though. He looks like you, Rod."

"He better. He's my younger brother, Rabastan."

Rita leans down. "Nice to meet you, little man." She turns to Andromeda. "I've heard a bunch about you and Narcissa. Your sister brags a lot." She points to Bellatrix.

"I do not."

"You kinda do, Bels." Rodolphus says.

"Whatever."

***

Bellatrix cheers as her sister gets sorted into Slytherin.

***

It's Bellatrix' fourth year. Andromeda' second. And her breath catches every time she sees her best friend.

Now, of course, she didn't know why. But if she had to guess, she'd say she was catching feelings for a girl.

If it was up to her to decide, she would most likely date her. But it's not. It's up to her family, and they would never allow that. So, she decides to bury her feelings for as long as she can.

***

It's Bellatrix' fifth year. Andromeda' third. And Narcissa' first. Now, of course, Narcissa was nervous. Even Andromeda and her were. But she never did show it.

She had always been the bravest out of all three of them. Never once did she show that she was scared. Even when she saw her parents beating Bellatrix to near death.

But that's not the point. The point is that Bellatrix sees Andromeda with a guy. Someone she most likely isn't supposed to be near.

Last year, Bellatrix was too caught up in her own feelings that she never noticed that her sister had caught feelings for a guy. And that guy so happened to be a Tonks. They were never allowed to speak to anyone who wasn't involved with the Death Eaters somehow, so she thought that her sisters weren't going to try to even speak them people.

She was wrong. Oh, was she so very wrong.

But she couldn't very well blame her. She was friends with Rita Skeeter, and she wasn't involved with the Death Eaters. But at least she was a Slytherin and not a Ravenclaw.

I mean, sure, Ravenclaw' are nice and sweet and fun, but she shouldn't be talking or hanging out with them.

Bellatrix marches over to her sister and drags her to the side. "Dro, you can't talk to him."

"Now you notice me? Thank you for caring this year, but I got it covered. You barely even acknowledged me last year."

"I was too busy trying to hide my feelings."

"What? From Rita? Yeah, I don't think you're fooling anyone. You caught feelings for her last year."

"How did you know?"

"Even though you weren't paying attention to me. I was paying attention to you. I knew you caught feelings for her when we walked into the Great Hall. Your breath catches every time you see her. Everyone can see it. Maybe not her. But everyone else can."

"Why do you think Rodolphus hasn't tried to date you? Because he doesn't like you? That's definitely not it. I see him making heart eyes at you. He tried to give you hints all of last year and your so blind sided by fucking Rita Skeeter that you couldn't see what was right in front of you. Rodolphus is in love with you."

"I don't care if you date her. Go for it. But let Rodolphus know before not after. Tell him you're not interested in him. You only see him as a friend. I don't care. Just talk to him. Tell Rita how you feel. In return, you'll let me date Ted. Ok?"

"How are you so wise?" Bellatrix asks, stunned.

Andromeda smiles. "I guess I got it from you. Now, go tell Rita how you feel."

***

"Rodolphus, can I talk to you? In private."

He nods. "What did you want to talk about?" Rodolphus asks after they get into the empty common room.

"Dro opened my eyes. Told me what was right in front of me." Bellatrix takes a pause. "I've always known I've had feelings for someone, and I still don't know if they like me back, but I just need you to know that I only see you as a friend. Nothing more."

"That's...... not what I thought you were going to say."

"Like I said, Dro told me what was right in front of me. I was fighting my feelings and didn't even notice anyone else's last year. So I just wanted you to know, I only see you as a friend. Ok?"

Rodolphus laughs. "Yeah, I got it."

***

Rita and Bellatrix are alone in their dorm for the first time since school started, which was a week ago. "Hey, uh, Rita?"

*Hmm?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I - I." Bellatrix takes a deep breath. In. Out. "Last year, I realized I was in love with someone. A girl. I haven't told my family, and I most likely never will. But I -" She takes another breath. In. Out. "This girl is you, Rita. I realized I'm in love with you."

Rita takes in a sharp breath. "You're... in love with me?"

"Yes. I think I always have been."

"It's about time, you realized. I've been in love with you since second year. I had a crush on you in first."

***

By the time seventh year rolls around, Andromeda is dating Ted, Narcissa is dating Lucius, and Bellatrix and Rita have been dating for three years. In secret, of course.

Now, what would happen if her family found out? No one knows, and no one wants to know, either.

No one knows what happens after they graduate, but they will just have to figure that out when they get there.

[nidamae-approvedhpfanfics]

Face On the Milk Carton -

Every witch and wizard knows the story of the Eze Baby. Taken from her pram by a squib never to be seen again, the greatest tragedy of the Cote d'Azur. What happens when the baby in the picture looks just like the baby pictures Hermione has seen her whole life?

My Summary:

An epic level story following Hermione as she meets her biological family; which sets her on a new path that opens many doors providing much support for both her and Harry. She in turn introduces them and many other Slytherins to the muggle world.

A wonderful mix of serious and fun, romance and pain. Dealing with Death Eaters and crazy people while building new friendships and discovering the pleasure of love they are all far from bored.

Starts after 2nd Task of TWT going through their graduation. Settle in an enjoy the adventure.

Language: English Words: 204,362 Chapters: 64/64 Collections: 10 Comments: 1,083 Kudos: 4,805 Bookmarks: 1,676 Hits: 236,133

Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Pureblood Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Bashing, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, #Hermione is a Malfoy

[autumnweeen]

Golden Girl on the Prowl

Summary: Rita Skeeter is doing her thing again, and Hermione is not having it.

Draco doesn’t mind being featured in the Prophet, except this time, it could ruin his friendship with Granger.

And he’s grown rather fond of having her close.

An eighth year head boy/head girl fluffy fic with a side of angst.

Chapters 3/6

Rated M

Now complete!

[marlbles]

an expert from the new wolfstar fanfic i’m writing inspired by if we were villains by m.l. rio and the secret history by donna tartt:

————————————————————————

Remus sat face-to-face with Rita Skeeter. The astounding world-famous journalist, who decided she needed to interview Remus. Remus Lupin, the convicted criminal who brutally ended the 5 lives of some of his closest peers. The monster, the living devil he was.

And Rita wanted the full story, truth or not.

[theroundbartable]

Ch. 19 - Communication: Rita Skeeter writes her last article

[dhr-ao3]

Love In Italics

Love In Italics https://ift.tt/bhDZWki by penthatspeaks Hermione as the author, Draco as the typesetter and binder… what could possibly go wrong? Words: 8992, Chapters: 2/10, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Rolf Scamander, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass, Ministry of Magic Employees (Harry Potter), Rita Skeeter Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander Additional Tags: Adult Hermione Granger, Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Luna Lovegood, Adult Rolf Scamander, Hermione as Editor In Chief of The Quibbler, Journal, Wizarding World, Book Contest, Love Story, Draco Malfoy as Binder/Tysetter, Good Draco Malfoy, Mutual Pining, Wedding via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/IOpB7Jg June 18, 2025 at 06:37AM