#durmstrang boy

[cherry-pop-elf]

He Goes To Another School, I Swear!

Viktor Krum x Reader

With surprise appearance of best friends Golden Trio!

Sum: You always told everyone your boyfriend was Viktor Krum. Of course no one believed you, even with letters from him. Made you a massive target for bullying. Especially for your looks on why ‘anyone in general’ wanted you. Look at their faces when the Tri Wizard Tournament comes.

Warnings: Bullying, Viktor being the biggest himboist sweetheart ever, long distance relationships

“So how’s your ‘boyfriend’ doing? Hm~?” A girl would cackle at you, before throwing a bread roll at your face. Socked you in the nose. Wasn’t like it hurt, but the intent that she wanted it to was what made that sweet biscuit sting.

No one ever believed you that you said Viktor was your boyfriend. All except Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Made sense they would. Harry bloody potter was all three of your’s best friend. They knew you wouldn’t lie, and were there at the Quidditch Cup.

Who do you think was able to give them all free tickets?

Ron, ever the one to defend his friends, was soon standing up. Ready to throw a full on breakfast at the girl, but Hermione had to yank him back down. As if they needed to lose points, but also she needed to distract her own hands from punching someone all the same. She was a lot more subtle with her rage.

“Just ignore them. They are looking for a fight. Don’t give them the time of day.” Harry would try and comfort you, but damn it gets under your skin. You know you shouldn’t care, that they are just bullies. But it’s still a lot to handle. It makes you go crazy. The human brain can only handle so much. Even with the truth is right there, a million lies can bury everything.

Made you lose your appetite. Not even Fred and George’s latest candy inventions could perk you up.

But Dumbledore could.

“Attention everyone, we have a grand announcement to make! This is the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. This is also the year that we have been given the grand honor of hosting it here to Hogwarts. Please, everyone, give a roaring applause to the schools that come.”

That had you perk up a bit. You remember Viktor talking about the tournament. You knew he would try and join. He was such a strong, determined, man. Oh your man was perfect in so many ways. Just so kind, loyal, sweet, sensitive, you could go on for hours about him.

But any chance you could, those damn bullies would step in to fight it.

Said bullies were still being annoying, as the Headmaster would tell everyone to give a warm welcome to Durmstrang. Making mocking kissing faces at you, as they cleaned up their makeup. Wanting to look their best. Just made your blood boil, until you heard the doors open.

There you saw him.

Viktor was leading the parade, next to his headmaster, with an expression that could kill. Face stern, cold, and hard. A man that was ready for war. Had all the girls, and guys, just swooning at such raw power he would display to everyone. This being of pure muscle and fight. Truly what a solider is envisioned.

That’s until his eyes locked with yours.

His face was so quick to soften, and a smile broke through the mask of intimidation. Just this childlike glee was filling those dark eyes, and making them come alive. He was so happy to see you. He nearly stumbled over himself, as he was distracted. Had to get a fellow student to bump his hip to get him back in line.

You couldn’t help yourself in a giggle.

Oh how you couldn’t tear your eyes off him, and how he struggled to focus on his performance. Trying so hard to not let you keep him from his calculated movements. It’s hard though. He was utterly smitten by you, after all. He just couldn’t stop throwing eyes your way.

Shame that your bullies were also in that same direction, and figured his puppy dog eyes were for them.

You couldn’t even pay attention to the girls from that French school come in. Your eyes were meant for Viktor, and his yours. It was all returned in his gesture. Smiling, and just utterly drunk in love for you. Oh how his body itched to move away from where he stood. To come your way and sweep you off your feet.

But a solider does what a solider is ordered.

“Please welcome your new fellow students with open arms, everyone. Treat them as you would with your own. Enjoy your dinner everyone. Be kind, be respectful, and be what you are. Students.” Dumbledore would finish, as Mr. Karkaroff finally dismissed the students.

The way he bolted was truly a statement to his seeker abilities.

“VIKTOR-! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! VIKTOR-!” His fellow Durmstrang students would laugh, as they were very well aware of his pure excitement. His adrenaline just rushing to finally get to you. And NO ONE would get in his way.

Out right said ‘fuck walking around the tables’ he JUMPED from one table to another. Caused quite a scene, and show, but it was entertaining to say the least.

He hadn’t seen you in person in so long. Even the Quidditch Cup wasn’t enough. Could only watch him from the stands, before the Death Eaters showed up. Ruined any chances of you two to hold hands.

Not today.

“INCOMING-!” Harry shouted, as the golden trio made sure to get out of the way. Just in time for you to pretty much be tackled, and scooped into his strong arms. Lifted high into the air like a ballerina, before into a swooping dip. Just so full of kisses.

You swore if he had warn lipstick your face would end up a solid shade.

“VICKY! We’re in public! These are my classmates!” You cackled, as he just wouldn’t stop kissing you. You swore he traded breathing for kisses in that moment. Just unable to let you go, and kept you in a grip like no other. Just kisses, hugs, and Bulgarian chants of pure love.

Your bullies sure were left dropping their goblets at the sight.

“Breathe man, breathe-!” Ron shouted, as he patted the seeker’s back. Just all a cackle with your friends. With Hermione herself smirking, and possibly flipping the assholes off, as Viktor finally calmed down enough to function. Sorta.

You were still in his iron grip, as he snuggled you close. His head buried in your neck, as he kept whispering about how much he missed you and loved you. It was just endless affection, and you were so happy to get it.

“You are playing this up, aren’t you?” You whispered to him, as he gave a deep chuckle into your flesh. Had a shiver run down your body, as he laced his fingers with yours. There to compare hands.

“What? Me? Pretend to act a certain way in the public eye for the paparazzi and reporters to eat up? Never.” He would play his sarcasm well, before he planted another sweet kiss to your cheek. Just left you so giggly, as you two finally sat down. Well, more so you snuggled in his lap as he kept praising you in affection.

The students at Hogwarts sure learned a valuable lesson that day.

Don’t fuck with someone who has a Durmstrang boyfriend.

[softkombuchaa]

Durmstrang Theodore Nott

[fieryhotpotato]

you know what im so mad about in the harry potter movies? something that ive never seen mentioned but that makes me so angry I want to flip a table?

durmstrang girls and beaubatons boys. they were completely excluded from the movie. did they forget them at home or something? I want my soft gentle sweet boys and angry tough butch girls!!!

[slytherinwhydontyou]

Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires

•Mattheo Marvollo Lestrange/Riddle (b. December 29, 1980; Capricorn)

Tom Riddle Jr. (Biologically) /Rodolphus Lestrange (Legally) & Bellatrix Lestrange (née Black)

Halfblood

Atticus House 🐎 (1991-1993)

Slytherin 🐍 (1993-1998)

Seeker (Formerly)

ENTP (Debater) - Quick Witted, Charismatic, Knowledgeable, Argumentative

[ask-elland-n-will]

For the boys! 28, 29, 30 for the ask game! 💙💖☺️

28. Does your mc have a favourite childhood toy? If so, what was it? Do they still have it with them?

I think both 🌙 Elland and 🧨 Cyrus had some sort of a Phoenix toy growing up, since the bird is on their family crest and they loved listening to stories about Firebirds as kids. Elland probably ended up giving his toy to Cyrus, who absolutely still keeps it somewhere in his room. Not at Hogwarts, but back home. At Hogwarts Cyrus tries to either transfigure things into Phoenixes / find the real bird / create an automaton of one (transfigure little metal pieces like cogs and such and make it come to life with magic — idea taken from his artificer class in DnD). Elland was a brave boy giving up his toys: he's an older brother and he has to lead by example!

☀️ William grew up a spoiled baby with a loooot of toys. Mostly plushies of animals and magical beasts. I want to give him some something cliché, like a bear, or perhaps a puffskein toy — the biggest fluffiest toy he has! He would turn his toys into a court of plushies, having tea ceremonies, talking gossip, unloading his grand nobleman plans onto them. Don't tempt me to turn his first display of magic into 5-year-old Will, making all his toys come to life ("About time you rose up, my warriors!") and march down to the main living room to parade them in front of his parents. Will doesn't have a canon "first magic" moment, and now my brain is hitting me with this. You are welcome. And yes, he still has all his toys at home!

🌸 Lilith — I really want her to have some traditional-style carving, maybe a bear figurine. She has it with her at Hogwarts, too: age doesn't matter. It's her spirit, and she honours it appropriately. It was a big help in Durmstrang, emotionally, helped her toughen up.

Before her parents became successful merchants, they were rather poor and lived in a village. Of course, she had some simple toys, like dolls made out of hay and dry grass, adorned with some pretty red ribbons Lilith's mother managed to exchange for come good they grew. But when her magic manifested, the villagers started fearing her. Even before then, she's been the kid coming up with crazy stories but it was not taken seriously until that moment. It got to the point that her parents seriously thought of moving, and at the time it was the worst thing possible cause they'd have to rebuild from scratch.

The villagers' memories were obliviated when the local magic enforcement finally located Lilith, and she got accepted to Koldovstoretz. Her parents took to selling things seriously since they didn't have money to afford education for Lilith, so the first couple of years were tough. But with her being at school for most of the year, they were able to travel, and eventually made some good money, took opportunities they otherwise couldn't have.

She was gifted a small carved figurine of a bear sometime between the villagers starting to push Lilith and her family away and Lilith leaving for school. It came from an old hag living on the outskirts of the forest: she was ostracized for magical reasons as well, and although she didn't have the kind of magic we are used to in HLHP, she had some older magic, letting her brew potions from most regular ingredients, influencing weather to some degree, communicating with animals, and so on. Lilith didn't have much contact with her since she was warned to never come near, but nobody can tell Lilith what to do, right? The bear gift was meant to protect her and guide her, and it did, imbued with some forgotten folk magic.

Lilith unknowingly put a lot of herself into the bear, magically and otherwise. The fact that she seems to be stronger than she should be now, at Hogwarts, it's not a coincidence. The figurine affected Lilith most when she spent a year in Durmstrang, enhancing her wish to become stronger after all the bullying at school. This bond shall only grow. Lilith has the most potential to be an MC, and yes, she'd take the power in the repository for herself. Sorry, cute question about childhood toys *wheeeze* 🤣

29. What kind of music would your MC like? Is there a reason?

🌙 Elland is used to instrumental music because he's been taught to play a few instruments since he was a kid. He never gave the piano a go, but some of his favourite compositions are by Frederic Chopin, followed closely by Franz Liszt and Claude Debussy. In addition, in modern AU he leans towards indie and rock, and he does homework while listening to chill-hop, lo-fi, dark ambience and such.

☀️ William appreciates some really complicated pieces of music. He wanted to play the piano when he was a kid but his hands don't have the range, they are rather small, so he ended up giving it up in favour of art. But he still loves classical music. The amount of times he and his parents snuck into the muggle world for some life performances! He's a frequent opera-ballet-goer in both HL and modern time, and loves musicals in modern AU. He'd be into 1950s-90s music of all kinds. Doesn't like anything harsh sounding, like metal. He likes fun pieces, too, since he enjoys dancing, and those don't have to be ballroom classics: he can very well dance to some folk music at Three Broomsticks and have a blast.

🧨 Cyrus and 🌸 Lilith are all in on the fun stuff, music in pubs, street performers, smaller and amateur artists — they love the honesty and uniqueness. The faster the rhythm, the better! Give them drums and loud unhinged fiddling!

30. Tell us something you love about your MCs!

Answered here. In short, I love the way they overcome hardships. For Elland — overstepping his morals and living with his choice, for Will — pushing past his fear.

For Lilith and Cyrus — they are unapologetically themselves, with all their flaws: they turn those into their strengths. I can say the same about Will as well.

[bccksmarts]

❧ &. 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. ☙

➤ @semperfcrtis asked: ❛ i shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you. ❜ { from draco }

  No, he shouldn't. He was right about that. She shouldn't allow this, either. They came from different schools, and totally different upbringings. If Lucius Malfoy saw his son pressing a muggleborn up against one of the library bookshelves like this, he'd have a heart attack.

  There was no denying what was going on here. His mouth was on her lips and on her throat, hot and needing. They felt like they were everywhere all at once, and her legs felt like they were going to give way underneath her. He knew exactly what he was doing, where he should touch and kiss her— did they even have girls a Durmstrang? It was an all-boys school, and yet here he was. Bloody purebloods.

  Then again, she didn't really feel a pull to any of the others like she had with this one in particular. As soon as he walked into the Great Hall that first time, she knew right away there was something about him, especially when his silvery gaze met hers.

  And today was one of those days where he'd gotten so fed up of her being around Viktor Krum. She could tell he was getting more and more agitated with each moment he had to witness his classmate talk to her, but she couldn't place as to why. Now? Oh yes, she knew now. He pulled back to look at her, speak to her and Gods... words were just not it right now. All they'd done was bloody snog a bunch! She couldn't even think! Swallowing, Hermione's eyes flitted up to look at him, into those pools of silver, ❝You say that... but here we are,❞ she says rather breathlessly, her chest rising and falling with every suck in of air. How is she going to go back to her friends looking like however she looked right now?

[redeemingvillains]

the black lake - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo is hogwarts' triwizard tournament champion, and he's proven that he can crush the competition. but when the stakes are raised, and you're involved, nothing will get in his way.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this was was so fun to think about! lots of references to goblet of fire! lots of swearing, matty is not a happy camper in this one. enjoy ♡

Obviously this boy would put his name in the Goblet of Fire (all of the boys did) and there would be a lot of feelings about him being chosen as the Hogwarts champion, lots of accusations about him rigging the selection (he probably did). But he'd definitely crush the competition, especially when he had the right motivation...

ˋ°•*⁀➷

It's the morning of the second task, the day crisp and frosty, creating puffs of air as Mattheo huffed in exertion, marching down to the Black Lake surrounded by his friends. Suffice to say, he was pissed. It was fucking frigid outside and he hadn't seen you all morning, the combination enough to set him dangerously on edge.

You'd told him you'd come spend the night with him, and if nothing else you always ate breakfast together, so when you didn't show up last night and you were nowhere to be found this morning he was furious that you'd blown him off. Now he was spending his entire walk from the castle to the lake ruminating over it, piling on every perceived slight over the last few days, including the way he saw you talking to a group of guys from Durmstrang in the Great Hall yesterday, causing him to involuntarily curl his hands into fists at his side.

His friends walked beside him, surrounding him in a sort of semicircle, but moving in complete silence; they knew better than to try to say anything to him when he was in a mood like this. Before long, Pansy came running to meet them, nearly out of breath as she said, exasperated, "I couldn't fucking find her. She's not anywhere in our dormitory, in the library, I don't know where she's gone." Concern and frustration laced her voice as she looked at the group and then up at Mattheo.

This wasn't like you.

You had been Mattheo's #1 supporter throughout the whole tournament, helping him prepare, cheering him on, jumping into his arms the moment he'd defeated his dragon, and generally always glued to his side. In fact, you were always glued to all of their sides, the group of you being nearly inseparable, so having you missing made all of the boys feel shifty and on edge as they looked at one another.

Fear bloomed in Mattheo's chest. And the feeling of fear when it came to you did not sit well with him. He didn't want to feel afraid, to feel vulnerable when it came to you, so he opted to shove the feeling down, keeping instead with anger which was much easier and more natural to him.

"I don't have time for this" he muttered, quickening his pace as they all scrambled to keep up with him.

The biting wind whipped through his dark curls and stung his cheeks as he stood on the platform above the lake, staring into the middle-distance of the dark and choppy waves. Students and staff alike were cheering and shouting their encouragement for their champions, but he was completely zoned out, his mind bouncing back and forth between your lingering absence and the task ahead of him. He only perked up when Dumbledore's loud voice rang out over the crowd.

"Welcome to the second task!" it radiated.

"Last night something was stolen from each of our champions, a treasure of sorts—"

Mattheo's heart plummeted so fast into his stomach that he subconsciously grasped at his chest. A treasure? There wasn't a thing he owned that he valued enough to call a treasure, not a single thing in his life that held that much weight... except you. You were undeniably his treasure. He looked back into the murky water of the Black Lake... it couldn't be... he thought ... surely they wouldn't... as Dumbledore's voice continued.

"—These four treasures, one for each champion, now lie on the bottom of the Black Lake—" Mattheo's stomach lurched with what little breakfast he'd been able to eat as his eyes shot to Pansy's in the crowd in enough time to see her clasp her hand to her mouth as she pieced the situation together.

"—In order to win, each champion need only find their treasure and return to the surface. Simple enough. Except for this. They will have but one hour to do so and one hour only. After that, they'll be on their own. No magic will save them."

Mattheo's feet were moving before Dumbledore said another word, sprinting towards the water because fuck this stupid tournament, and fuck the geezer for thinking he could take you away from him, that he could put you in danger.

"You may begin at the sound of the cannon."

BOOM!

Mattheo heard the blast as his body hit the water, diving headfirst into the waves without bothering to cast a spell, without a care to what he'd find within the foreboding depths.

The cold shocked his system, but his heart was hammering for plenty of other reasons as he pulled his body through the fierce current, his strong arms and legs working against the waves.

For a minute he was surrounded in dark nothingness. He could feel rather than see that he wasn't alone in the water, occasionally sensing something moving on either side of him, but he didn't have time, you didn't have time for him to care. His lungs started to burn and he pressed his wand to his neck, casting a spell frantically so as not to waste another second.

After swimming at an impossible pace for so long he wondered if there even was a bottom to the lake, he heard an ethereal sound, like singing and changed course to swim towards it, which brought him to a large clearing where he could see merpeople swimming around. The few nearest him whipped their heads toward him, surprised at his presence as they turned to face him fully. He dared them, dared any fucking one of them to come near him, welcomed it actually, a chance to take out his rage, but they steered clear, perhaps sensing it would be a losing battle despite the tritons they carried and their razor-sharp teeth.

He swam on, his muscles straining, aching with the exertion of pulling his weight through the thick water at such an unwavering and desperate pace, but the feeling faded, drained from him, as four distinct figures came into view, four bodies, tethered and floating in the water, their hair moving eerily around their faces, their bodies stiff and still, like corpses.

He identified you immediately and he swam harder and harder until he was close enough to touch you. He brushed a hand against your cheek; your skin held a blueish tint and your face was expressionless, void of the smile that you always had for him, that reached your eyes, that lit up your face, the absence of it was enough to make his eyes sting in a way that had nothing to do with the brackish water.

He grasped your stiff form, the resistance of your body against his continuing to mess with his mind as he sent a spell to sever the rope that secured you and tried not to think about how rigid you felt in his arms.

His ability to breath underwater didn't matter for shit, because he was certain he didn't breath the entire way back, climbing harder and harder as he carried your weight with him, desperate to reach the surface, desperate to save you, thinking the entire time how fucking foolish he'd been to spend even one second mad at you today.

Finally, he could see the light of the surface, the grey clouds in the sky reflecting in the waves, and after a final series of strong kicks he broke through the current.

Immediately, he felt you come alive again in his arms, spluttering and coughing as you grasped for him.

"M-Matty!?" you said hysterically, the cold and fear in your voice setting his heart in a vice as your eyes fluttered open and you looked around in confusion at your surroundings. "What happened?! Where—?!"

"—It's okay, you're okay, you're safe" he said, pulling you against him, keeping you both afloat even as you rocked in the waves and he gasped deeply for air.

"C'mere, c'mon" he said, swimming with you in his embrace towards the platform, anxious to get you out of the freezing water.

The crowd had erupted into cheers when you'd breached the surface, and they were announcing that Mattheo was the champion by a long shot, not having been in the water for more than 20 minutes, the other champions still completely unaccounted for. But hearing talk of the competition and seeing everyone's ignorance about the whole situation as they clapped and smiled was pushing him to his limit as he hoisted you up to Pansy who greeted you with a thick towel.

Mattheo pulled himself out of the water, barely taking time to wrap a towel around his shoulders before grabbing three more and pulling them around you. You laughed under the heavy bundle, even as your shivering continued uncontrollably. "I-I'm okay, I-I'm okay" you said, trying to reassure him, even as you noticed that he wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Buncha fucking idiots" you heard him muttering as he rubbed your arms before he stooped down and swept you off your feet bridal style, one hand around your waist, the other holding on to your legs. The crowd cheered again, erupting in a sigh of "awws" at the gesture until he began barreling towards them.

"Matty?" you asked, concerned, "Where are we—?"

"—Anywhere but here" he growled as people began pushing each other to get out of his way.

"Mr. Riddle!" McGonagall chided, chasing after you both as you watched her from over his shoulder, urging him to stop as a couple of other professors followed in pursuit.

He veered towards the raised platform where the headmasters were seated, coming to a brief stop in front of Dumbledore who had stood to his feet.

"You are out of your fucking mind!" Mattheo spat at him.

Several people around you gasped, even Igor Karkaroff had the wherewithal to look surprised, impressed even, before Mattheo walked away, marching right off the platform and back towards the school as the entire crowd watched you go.

You could tell Mattheo was tired, beyond tired, physically, emotionally; you could feel his arms shaking against your weight.

"Matty, I can walk, it's okay" you said quietly, but he wouldn't let you go, wouldn't set you down, wouldn't even respond to you or meet your eyes. So you resigned yourself to resting your head on his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck which seemed to relax him a bit.

He carried you all the way to his room, making his way to the bathroom where he finally set you down and immediately began running you a hot bath. Wordlessly, he found a towel and a set of his clothes for you to wear, placing them at the edge of the tub before leaving without a word, closing the door gently behind him.

You looked anxiously at the closed door, aware that something was very very wrong, but also acknowledging that he might need a minute, and that you still couldn't feel the tips of your fingers or toes, so you resigned yourself to the hot water.

It felt heavenly, as did washing the muck of the lake off your skin and out of your hair. You reveled in the smell of his soap, like cedar and evergreen, but you were too anxious to sit there any longer than necessary, quickly pulling on his sweatpants and sweatshirt that engulfed your frame as you toweled your hair dry and pushed the door open.

Mattheo was seated at the edge of his bed, still dripping wet, his body shaking noticeably as he stared at the ground. He glanced up when he heard you, visibly relaxing a bit as he took in your warm, rosy cheeks and your soft smile, his mind flashing for only a moment to your unsmiling rigid form floating in the water, trying to reconcile that version of you with the one in front of him.

You approached him slowly, moving to stand between his legs as you took his face in your warm hands, tilting it to look at you. He had a strained, puzzled expression on his face as his eyes drank you in before his hands came to rest on your waist.

"Babe—" you started.

"—I love you" he said.

Your heart somersaulted over the words you'd never heard him say before as you let out a small breath, your hand moving to cover your mouth in shock as your eyes widened.

"I'm-I'm a fucking wreck for you" he continued, laughing humorlessly as he shook his head. "Today... really fucked me up. I thought I'd lost you, I thought..." he paused, getting quiet "...The way you looked down there, alone, miles under the water, surrounded by all sorts of shit" he shook his head harder like he could unlive the memory of it all.

"I should have told you sooner, because I've known for awhile, for a long fucking time, but I've been too scared to say it, too scared that you don't remotely feel the same way, but that doesn't matter anymore, nothing fucking matters other than you hearing me say it, today, every day, I love you, YN." His eyes met yours finally, wide and sincere. "With everything I've got, I love you."

"I love you too!—" you whispered, and the words were barely out of your mouth before he pressed his cold lips to yours, pulling you into him so tightly you let out an involuntary squeak as your arms moved to wrap around his neck and he fell backwards onto his bed, continuing to mumble against your lips "Iloveyou, loveyou, I loveyou", smushing your kisses with his affectionate words until you were laughing with joy, the sound finally reassuring him that you were his, and that you were okay.

♡

@kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girlblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen

[sectumsempraaa]

More Than a Gut Feeling

Pairing: soulmate!Theo Nott x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Based on this request! :)

TW: none, just unlawful amounts of fluff

Featuring: Theo, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Lorenzo, Blaise

Summary: Transferring schools in your fifth year is overwhelming enough. But when you find yourself seemingly tethered to a Slytherin boy, you start to wonder… Did you come to Hogwarts by choice? Or did someone lead you here?

“And there was fog, and dust, and all I could see was this hand reaching out for me-”

“Bloody hell Theo, please, we get it. You smoked before bed and had trippy dreams,” Pansy complains, cutting him off from his hazy explanation. She turns to you and rolls her eyes, expressing her disdain.

It’s a typical Monday breakfast in the Great Hall for the Slytherin lads, except they have you now. They’ve recently (and graciously) taken you under their wing after you transferred schools in your fifth year.

Though you’re still adjusting to your surroundings at Hogwarts, your new friends have made the transition easier.

“I didn’t smoke before bed, bastardo,” he replies, lunging slightly towards her in annoyance.

Your eyes linger on Theo for a moment, his dream piquing your interest for some reason. There’s something about it that feels… familiar.

But you shake it off as deja vu in order to move past it. The last thing you want right now is to stand out amongst your new peers.

It’s only been a week since you arrived, but the connection you have with Theodore is unlike the others, and they are starting to notice.

Like when you first met, and the both of you were each holding a hardcover copy of your mutual favorite poetry book.

And a couple days later, when you turned your head to greet him as he was several yards behind you in the hallway, before he even called your name.

And yesterday, when you watched him win the first quidditch match you’d seen because the golden snitch hovered over you the entire time.

“I wish I could remember my dreams like that,” you respond, adding a touch of understanding to the conversation.

Theo’s head turns in the direction of your soft voice, like his gaze is attached to it somehow.

Blaise looks between the two of you, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Suddenly and smoothly, Mattheo nudges you with his elbow and leans in close to your ear.

“If you dreamt of me, you would.” He smirks, laughing to himself and earning a light smack on the chest from Lorenzo. You notice Theo’s expression turn a smidge darker, something new looming in his eyes.

Lorenzo comments. “You really do ruin everything. You’re like, the king of ruining everything.”

Draco scoffs at Mattheo’s quip and places his hands on the table to signify that it’s time to leave for class. “Come on, Mattheo. Let’s not traumatize the new girl.”

Draco throws an apologetic glance your way.

“Please don’t listen to this child.” He spits out the last few words with haste.

When you look at Theo, you find him still staring at you with a hint of wonder and confusion.

You blush, feeling the crimson warmth spreading from one cheek to another. You reach down to grab your bag and make your way to potions class with the rest of the group.

—

Today’s lesson is, surprisingly, something you’ve already learned at your previous school. And thank the gods, because something about Theo’s dream has your attention caught like a fly in a web.

You imagine his vision, the fog and the reaching. You look down to your own hand, your brows furrowing as you continue to rack your brain. The longer you look at your hand, the more convinced you are that…

No. You just met him a week ago… there’s no way.

But that’s not it. It’s the other dreams he’s mentioned in the past few days, too. One where he’s at Durmstrang looking for someone, another where he’s trying to find them on the Hogwarts Express, but he doesn’t know who he’s following.

Who he’s looking for.

You can’t help but compare them to your own dreams, strikingly, eerily similar.

You recount images of them, scouring through empty train cabins and following the sound of alluring footsteps in your former school.

A tug on your ponytail pulls you out of your distraction, the slight pain guiding your stare. A sea of giggles spreads through the class as you watch Professor Snape’s hand return to his side.

“Miss Y/L/N, I suspect you were the potions teacher at Durmstrang with the way you ignore my curriculum.” Snape retorts, his stern voice closer than you were expecting.

But one particular laugh catches your ears, the corners of your mouth turning up at the sound of it. Your eyes land on Theo, and something about his expression makes your heart skip a beat.

“Tsk tsk, bella,” He whispers, and you bite your lip in response, turning back to your textbook as that damn blush creeps back onto your face.

There’s no denying how unfathomably handsome this man is when he smiles at you, because of you.

Your desk partner, Draco, looks to Theo and then back to you in bewilderment.

“I can never get him to joke around like that,” He says to you. “I’ll be damned if he fancies you more than me already.”

You smile back to Draco, returning the playful demeanor. “Oh, I bet he just adores you.” You respond loud enough so Theo can hear behind you.

You don’t have to turn around to see the bashful smirk on Theo’s face.

—

That night, you toss and turn more than usual. A wild dream keeps you trapped in slumber, unable to relinquish you from it until your roommate, Pansy, physically shakes you awake.

“I’m right here, you oaf!” Pansy yells, her hands squeezing your shoulders as you urgently sit up in bed.

“What? What are you doing? Why are you yelling?” You ask, genuinely lost. The beads of sweat trickle down your temple.

“You don’t remember just now when you were asking ‘Where are you?’ a thousand times in your own sleep?” She responds, her eyes widening with each word.

And then it hits you, the images of your dream. That laugh, a gentle breeze, and a-

“Paper crane?” Pansy asks, looking down into your lap with eyes like headlights.

You slowly look down, afraid to reveal to yourself what lays in your grasp. In your palm is a small, crumpled paper crane. Your baffled stare freaks her out, her hands retracting from your sides.

“What the filthy fuck is that?!” Pansy yells, but her voice sounds quite distant to you as you try desperately to get a hold on reality.

But you know. You know what this is, and you know how you got it. Accepting this fact is like swallowing glass.

“I brought something out of my dream,” you whisper, your breath picking up in pace and weight. The thought is sending you reeling, your brain suddenly racing yet devoid at the same time, unwilling to connect the dots.

“How is this even possible?” You ask yourself.

Pansy continues rambling on, asking you endless questions.

But you can’t seem to shake the idea that this item didn’t exist before you fell asleep last night.

—

After long deliberation, and a real pull back to reality, you manage to get yourself dressed and out the door. But the mental picture of this thing takes up most of the space in your mind that day, haunting you each time you think of it.

It’s not until Divination class, your last period, that things somehow become even more unsettling.

Professor Trelawney begins a lesson about the influence of dreams in real life and the messages they can send to the dreamer.

“Dreams, they can be so powerful. They can point you in specific directions, impact your decisions, make you see the truth.”

Her shakey, ominous voice echoes through your head, her words bouncing off the walls of your skull as you feel around in your pocket for the mysterious object. When you feel the edges of the paper graze your skin, you gently pull it out and place it on the corner of your desk.

From the table over, Theo absentmindedly observes you, your movement guiding his trailing eyes. He sees the object in front of you, but it takes him a second to register what it is, that curious little thing.

He squints, then performs a stunning double take. And when he’s finally able to identify it…

Everything changes.

“Oh… my… god…” Theo whispers, his heart dropping into his stomach like an anchor. His body goes into a state of utter disbelief and stillness. His eyes piercing white and his face ghostly pale as he struggles to grasp the scene in front of him.

Mattheo notices Theo’s knuckles white against the desk and chimes in to check on his friend.

“Mate, you alright? You look like Enzo after a Friday night at the Three–”

But before Mattheo can finish asking, Theo suddenly stands up and gains the attention of everyone in class by the sound of his bench skidding backwards on the floor.

Professor Trelawney’s gaze shifts from Theo to you as she locates the focus point of his unrelenting stare. She offers to take him to the infirmary as he looks “unwell.”

But Theo shakes his head, places his hand over his heart, and silently dashes out of the classroom.

Pansy’s head slowly turns to you with a look of complete perplexity.

“Better go check on Rome, new girl,” she mutters under her breath, referencing Theo’s hometown. She gestures her head in the direction of the door.

You nod hesitantly, soon following in his footsteps and ignoring any questions from your teacher.

—

When you make it to the hallway, you find Theo pacing back and forth, his hand still placed over his heart as if to stop it from exploding. But when he sees you, it only gets more difficult.

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off before you can even inhale.

“Where in seven hells did you get that paper crane?!” He asks, stopping in his tracks. The conversation continues in bouts of interrupting each other.

“Theodore, I-”

“Don’t call me that, that’s not what you call me in-”

“In what?”

“In my-”

Then a pause. A tense, incredible pause. A stare down.

He continues. “Nothing, it’s mind numbingly mad,”

You take a step towards him, but something in your chest suddenly becomes achingly heavy. In response, you place a hand over your heart, just like Theo is.

In your free hand, you unfold your fingers to reveal the paper crane. His eyes land on it, the shock of it still trapping every fiber of his being.

“You…” you start, the weight in your chest transforms from a brick to a block of anvil with each word.

When you’re within arms length of each other, he manages to reach out, the struggle evident on his face. He fights to finish your sentence for you.

“Made this. Gave this… to you, last night.” He explains, his voice dragging as you notice his hand now gripping his shirt in a fist from the sheer pain in his chest.

“Theo… I think we aren’t dreaming of each other,” you suggest, taking time to breathe between thoughts. The weight on your heart is now seemingly unbearable.

“We’re dreaming with each other,” you say, and just as you finish the thought, Theo’s fingers touch the paper crane in your hand, a graze that feels like lightning.

And just then, as the object fuses the touch of two destined souls, a small clad of thunder emits from between you that only you two can hear. The pains in your chests implode, a knee-dropping sensation of light and warmth replacing it.

Like dynamite in your hearts.

“Bella,” Theo’s hoarse voice is laced with a sincerity that sounds like liquid gold to your ears. There’s no way to describe the feeling inside you right now, this fantastic blend of energies and desires.

The only thing you do know is that it’s burning at both ends, like a charring rope.

“I think… I was meant to find you, cara mia. Gods I sound mental,” he shakes his head, embarrassment written all over his face. To his surprise, he finds your hand gently caressing his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours.

“Then maybe we both need to visit the infirmary, because I’ve only just arrived here and for some reason I can’t fathom a minute away from you.”

Relief washes over him as he drinks in your words, and the stunning sight of you confessing the very same sentiment he, too, harbors.

Your heart rate quickens as you feel an arm snake around your lower back, out of your line of sight. This feels strangely comfortable, like you’ve felt it for a lifetime already.

“Y/N…” he beckons, his forehead dropping to rest on yours. “I can’t ask you to be mine, because I think someone, or something, else already decided that.” He jokes, the huff from his laugh hitting your face.

The sight of both your smiles is what shifts everything into place. Everything, all at once. And then, your fists are the ones gripping his shirt, pulling his lips onto yours.

The paper crane falls to the ground between you as your lips move against each other, his hands exploring your back like they’re hunting for treasure. The magnitude of this kiss surpasses any other you’ve shared in the past.

Chills run up and down your body, like it’s finally found its home. Its match. His fingers grasp your hair lightly, keeping you in place as he kisses you with vigor.

He pulls away, looking at you like you’re his most prized possession.

“You’re more than a gut feeling, tesoro.” He confesses, earning another kiss from you. This one feels like an aftershock, the aftermath of the impact of your newfound, yet momentous intimacy.

You nod your head in understanding, barely able to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

“Did you… feel that, Theo?” You question, sending a glimmer of hope his way.

“Yes, like… fireworks?” He asks back. He takes your hand and places it on his chest once again, and you swear you could feel the butterflies erupting from inside.

Behind you, a mess of rushed footsteps make their entrance, accompanied by a couple of stern voices.

“These two, I swear…” Blaise complains, shaking his head and catching his breath.

“What in the Merlin-loving fuck is going on here?” Lorenzo sneers, his expression a mix of urgency and frustration.

But you two never broke that stare, that ruthless, solid stare. Instead you beam at each other as you scramble to put the answer into words.

“Fireworks.”

—

That night, you wander the grounds of Hogwarts together as Mattheo, Draco, and Pansy watch you from the Astronomy Tower. The three of them convene to discuss.

“You reckon she used a love potion?” Mattheo suggests, earning another smack on the arm.

“No, you bloody fool. They’re like, tethered or something.” She attempts to convey the notion to the boys, but they just don’t get it.

“Are we tethered then, doll?” Draco jokingly asks Pansy.

“In your dreams, mate.” Mattheo responds, taking a drag from his cigarette. She responds while picturing the paper crane she found in your lap that one fated morning last week.

“You’d be surprised how accurate that is.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[ldrfanatic]

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

[cherry-pop-elf]

Wedding Day

I had been in a wedding mood. My persona in that dress is my dream dress. Maybe one day. Oh one day

[nightsmarish]

Request: Barty x fem!animagus!reader who gets hurt but no one tells Barty so he has to ask the marauders where she is.

Barty crouch jr x fem!reader | 624 words

A/n: I was halfway through formatting this and the ASK DELTED ITSELF SO HERE WE ARE. I am SO sorry this took so long, this ask was in my inbox forever :[

Tw: reader is hurt, door slam, Peter, platypus

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡

The door to the marauders dorm slams open so hard that Remus is convinced the door was about to fall off its hinges.

"Dear fucking merlin," Sirius gasps, practically throwing the magazine he was reading.

"Good afternoon," Barty stands in the doorway, hands on hips, clearly having ran the entire way here, “Any of you blokes know were my gal is? Seemed to have lost her."

"Perhaps she doesn't want to be found." Peter mumbles from his desk, Barty seems to ignore it.

"She has left, decided Durmstrang was better suited for her academic needs." Sirius crosses his arms, upset his night has been invaded by Barty of all people.

"Very funny, Black." Barty sneers at him, "If someone wants to tell me I'd be out of your hair and all of us would be happier."

As if on cue, James walks out of the bathroom, drying his curls from his shower.

"Have you checked if shes still in the infirmary?" Finally! Barty gets some information, thank you James!

Barty practically runs back out of the dorm. Slamming the door once again on his way out, Remus winces slightly.

With quick feet Barty makes it up an obnoxious flight of stairs and to the infirmary, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Just as he enters, he sees your book bag resting at the end of one of the beds.

"Dragă?" Barty rounds the corner of your privacy curtain, seeing if you have been left here to die. Although that's probably a tad dramatic to think.

"Barty!" You smile, tired from pain potions Madam Pomfrey gave you, "Lovely to see you, darling."

Barty's eyes dart all around your body. You have small scratches all over you, a large bruise on your head and one large cast on your left leg. His heart melts.

"What happened? Take a fall off the astronomy tower?" He chuckles, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

"No." You look as if it's a feat you didn't fall off the tower, "I was trying to make friends with the giant squid and he threw me out of the water. Luckily damage was reduced due to having transformed beforehand."

Ah, yes. You, Barty’s wonderful and adventures girlfriend who became an animagus in your second year. A platypus, obviously. A land and water animal that you have used to get into far more trouble than you should.

"How dare he hurt my darling, I'll see to having him removed from the lake immediately." He grins, slinging an arm around your shoulders with care and pulling you into his side, "What did you tell Poppy?”

"Just a tumble down a hill, hit some rocks." You shrug, "the boys were there to back up my story so it worked well."

"Good, good. Can't have you sent to Azkaban before you befriend the merfolk." Barty nods thoughtfully.

There's a soft silence for a few minutes. Soft breathing shared between the two of you, Barty gently scratching up and down your arm, avoiding any injuries.

"Sorry I didn't get to tell you what happened sooner." You all but whisper.

"Don't apologize. Next time send that mutt you call a friend to fetch me though, yeah?" Barty cackles, "Nearly gave me a heart attack when I couldn't find you. Finally had to enter the Gryffindor dorms and interrogate those idiots."

"He's not a mutt!" You laugh, slapping his leg, "But I will, sorry you had to commit such a heinous act. I'm sure your life will never be the same."

"It won't, but I will recover." He sighs theatrically.

"Excuse me, Mr. Crouch." Madame Pomfrey clears her throat, "I'm afraid visiting time is up. Please vacate the infirmary."

Surprisingly enough, Barty gets up with almost no argument, giving you a salacious wink as he is escorted out by Hogwarts favorite matron.

You wink back.

[marauder-misprint]

do you think you can write a part two to ‚He looks like his father‘? It’s just really great and I’d like to see how it goes on

Here it is! The rest of the day with Sirius and Percy! I 100% put some of Sirius' lines from canon into this - it wasn't planned but it fits.

Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎❤︎❤︎

Old school friends

part one

Sirius Black x fem!Slytherin!reader (mum reader)

3.3k words

cw: mention of war, y/n y/l/n, fluff?

You locked eyes with Narcissa the moment you and Sirius entered the Three Broomsticks. She gave you a small, knowing smile. With a quick glance to the side, you saw that Sirius was tensed up, his jaw clenched. Frankly, you’re not sure if he was scanning the gaggle of students looking for the boy who could be his son or if he saw Lucius and Narcissa and decided that this was a mistake.

“I know you said you were meeting them here, but ugh,” he mumbled as you weaved through the busy pub. 

So the latter. You laughed lightly and scanned the teenagers. You discreetly pointed toward the end of the table where Percy was sitting in between Draco and Theodore Nott.

“Percy’s next to Draco,” you said. 

Sirius looked where you pointed. He tried to see what you and Remus meant by the boy looking like him. He supposed the dark hair and light eyes could be similar, but he didn’t see it as strikingly as Remus did. Sirius’ eyes went wide when you turned for the parents’ end of the table instead of toward Percy.

“I thought I was-” Sirius started to say until you reached to grab his arm.

“I’m not going to interrupt him with his friends to introduce an old school friend,” you said, reminding him of who he was to Percy. “You will tolerate the adults for a few drinks. We’ll probably stop by Honeydukes or something after and you can meet him then.”

Sirius nodded and followed you to where the adults were sitting.

“Cousin!” Narcissa greeted Sirius brightly as you sat down next to her and Sirius next to you. “How is the Potter boy doing?” 

“Harry’s well. Brilliant as his parents were,” Sirius answered, although his answer sounded strained. He obviously wasn’t used to talking politely with the Malfoys or the other smattering of parents around you. 

You looked around the table and realized you recognized a few faces. It made sense that some of Draco’s friends’ families would’ve been invited to the Malfoy’s Christmas parties. 

“Gloria Greengrass! Were you at the game?” you asked a woman across the table. 

“Oh, Y/N, I thought that was your Percy down there,” Gloria responded, a saccharine smile appearing on her face. “Yes, I did attend. Since when has Percy been attending Hogwarts? I could have sworn you said he was at Durmstrang?” 

“He was,” you drawled. It was easy to fall back into the almost pretentious conversation that these pure blood-centric families doled out. “But a promotion brought us to this neck of the woods and, you know Dumbledore, can’t refuse legacy students. I must say, Percy jumped at the opportunity to attend with Draco.”

Gloria laughed and then turned her piercing gaze to Sirius. She gave him an obvious once over.

“And this is?” 

“Sirius Black,” you answered for him. “An old friend that I wasn’t expecting to run into today and we decided that we must catch up.” 

Gloria nodded and whispered something to the woman next to her. You looked at Sirius briefly, but he was trying to wave down Madam Rosmerta to get drinks brought over for you two.

Then Narcissa leaned over to you and whispered, “Gloria is next to Bridget Zabini. Then, you have the Boyles, the Parkinsons and Marcus Montague.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered back, placing your hand on top of hers. 

Between the Christmas parties and Percy’s occasional letters, you recognized some of the names. However, Gloria was the only you had ever really conversed with. You sat and listened politely to their conversations. Sirius got you both butterbeers. You felt less awkward at the table with a drink in your hands.

“Do you know any of them?” you asked Sirius in a low voice.

“Remus and I keep to the Gryffindor families. But I do know Marcus next to me. Parents were friends.”

“Ah, so you’re best friends,” you teased, earning an eye roll from Sirius. 

“Barely. He’s older than Bellatrix.”

“Maybe you have a thing for older men now. It has been a while since we’ve seen each other.” 

He scoffed and took a swig of his drink, the foam sticking to his upper lip. You handed him a napkin. 

“Good to know you still hate the foam,” Sirius muttered as he wiped it away.

“I don’t hate it. I just think it looks sloppy,” you corrected him.

Narcissa leaned forward and said, “She’s right. It does look sloppy. Anyways, Y/N, can I assume that you two have… caught up on big life occurrences?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Narcissa had a certain kind of tact, that was for sure. 

“He is aware, yes,” you said firmly. 

Sirius looked from you to Narcissa to Percy and back to you. 

“And what of it? Where does that leave things?” she pressed.

“Cissa. We can discuss it over tea at a later date. Now is not the time, nor the place.”

She gave you an annoyed look. She wanted details and to know how things were going to move forward with this since Sirius now knew about Percy and you brought him to butterbeers. You were mildly amused that she thought it was something you’d be willing to discuss in front of people you barely knew. 

 Both you and Sirius opted to listen more than participate in the conversations around you. You shared low comments here and there and responded when spoken to, but that was about it. You felt like you were a little kid being allowed to sit at the adult table for once. You understood most of the conversations but not enough to contribute. From how rigid Sirius was, you assumed he felt the same way. Some pure blood families never changed. 

After a while and a few refills, you stood and signaled for Sirius to do the same. 

“It’s been lovely seeing you all, but I have some errands to run before I leave the village,” you told the adults before calling down to the end of the table, “Percy, we’re leaving.” 

Percy said a quick bye to his friends before joining you and Sirius near the exit of the pub.

“Percy, this is one of my friends from when I went here, Sirius Black.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” your son said, holding out his hand which Sirius shook. “Oh, I saw you earlier! After the match!”

“Yes. You were in quite a hurry to get to your mum. Can’t say I blame you,” Sirius said with a smirk. 

You elbowed him in the side.

“Ow,” Sirius hissed as you gave him a sickly sweet smile. 

“Wait, Mum, did you say Black? Sir, are you related to Aunt Cissa?” 

You could tell that Sirius wanted to gag or say something rude. It was instinct for him, but he swallowed the urge down. 

“She’s my cousin, yes.”

“Wicked.”

“Oh, and Sirius is fine. None of that sir business.”

“Perc, do you mind if he tags along? I literally haven't seen him since before you were born.”

“Yeah, whatever, Mum. Honeydukes?”

“Lead the way,” you laughed. 

Percy pushed open the doors. The warm afternoon air enveloped you as you stepped out into the sunlight. Percy wasted no time and headed toward the sweets shop. You and Sirius walked behind him. You couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. It was amusing to see Sirius watch Percy, trying to see what similarities others saw and imagining everything he missed in this child’s upbringing. 

Just outside Honeydukes, Percy stopped and turned to face you.

“Sirius, sir, if you don’t mind me asking, which house were you in?” 

“I don’t mind at all. Gryffindor.”

Percy’s face lit up. “Oh! So you must’ve known my dad!” 

You froze.

“Mum says he was in Gryffindor. Any of your old mates dead?”

Embarrassment washed over you. Your son, despite all the respect and manners Durmstrang taught him, still was a teenager. You looked to Sirius to see how he would respond and you wanted to laugh at his expression. At least you did until he answered.

“Too many of them, Percy. Far too many of them.” His tone was grave. 

“The war,” Percy breathed in realization. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

Okay, maybe Durmstrang did alright. 

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout, kit. I like to think that the ones we love never really leave us. They’re always in here,” he said, patting his chest. “Anyways, what’s your favorite sweet? I’m buying. A thank you for letting me tag along.”

“Awesome! We’re so getting Shock-o-chocs!”

Percy bolted into the store to find his most frequented stand. You nudged Sirius’ as you took a step forward. 

“Thanks for… not being hard on him about the war.”

“Please, least I could do. And don’t think I’m not getting you Chocolate Eternals.”

Your heart fluttered. He had remembered your favorite after all these years. It must’ve shown on your face. 

As Sirius started walking toward the door, he said, “If I recall, you never could turn them down.”

You followed the boys into the shop. It wasn’t exactly as you remembered it. It felt more crowded with additional stands and a larger variety of sweets. Sirius and Percy were standing among the chocolate options, putting an ungodly amount of packages into a basket that Sirius was holding onto. You shook your head as you walked up to them.

“Not trying to drain his bank account, are you?” you asked.

“Mum, your friend insisted.”

You gave Sirius a soft glare. He had often been the recipient of your glares and knew every variation. Just like he did when you were students, he flashed you his most charming grin. 

“Sirius…” 

“What? If he’s really your kid, then chocolate’s one of his most important food groups and Hogwarts is depriving him of it.” 

“I’m deprived, Mum,” Percy added, suddenly sporting an identical grin to Sirius.

Merlin, they were practically twins. Had this kid not inherited a single one of your genes?

“I mean, I’m not saying no. Just pointing out that Sirius is going to run himself broke.” You crossed your arms and popped your hip out. “I’m surprised you’re broke already.” 

“I’m financially responsible.”

You snorted as you tossed a few Chocolate Cauldrons into the basket.

“You and the word ‘responsible’ will never be in the same sentence.” 

He shrugged. “What’s life without a little risk?” 

“Go buy this before we end up buying the whole place out,” you told Sirius.

Percy gave you a wide-eyed look. “Can we do that?”

“No, Percy, no. You have to pace yourself.”

Sirius, despite being a short distance away as he stood in line, said, “Godric, he’s fifteen. Cut ‘im some slack, love!”

You pressed your lips together at the endearment. The apologetic look that crossed Sirius’ face showed that he noticed his slipup too. You glanced at Percy, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it. You sighed and slung an arm over his shoulder. 

“Let’s wait for Sirius outside,” you said, steering your son out of the store. “Classes going well?”

He nodded. “Bit easier than Durmstrang. Library’s better here. The moving staircases? Stupid,” he said, voice turning bitter at the mention of the stairs. 

You tried not to laugh. Those stairs have always been a struggle for certain students. If Percy had started here when he was eleven, he likely wouldn't be so irritated with them now. 

“Everything else is good though? Sleeping okay? Eating enough? Friends? Girlfriends?”

“Mum!” he whined. “Yeah, I’m good. All good. Got friends.” 

You smiled impishly as your son turned bright red. It was your motherly duty to embarrass your son every once in a while. The bell above the Honeydukes door tinkled, announcing Sirius’ return to you. 

“Where to next, L/Ns? Harry usually insists on Spintwitches, like he needs anything from there.”

“Harry?” Percy asked.

“Did I not mention? I’m Harry Potter’s uncle. You know, Gryffindor seeker,” Sirius answered. 

Percy made a slight face at the clarification. You chuckled. Your indifference-leaning-dislike of James was apparently being relived by Percy and Harry. 

“Not a fan, I take it?” Sirius said.

Percy tutted to buy him a moment before answering. He spoke slowly as if choosing his words carefully. “He’s not my favorite Gryffindor so far.”

“His father wasn’t mine either,” you told Percy, earning yourself an eye roll from Sirius. “Don’t think we need anything from Spintwitches… Uh, Percy, need any supplies? They got parchment, books, ink, quills, potion ingredients. Practically whatever you need.” 

“I know, Mum. Not my first Hogsmeade visit,” Percy said. “Can we stop by Dogwood and Deathcap? I checked the Magic Neep for dittany last week and they were out. Draco wouldn’t go to Dogwood with me.” 

You looked at Sirius, both of you nodding and then turning in the direction of the ingredients shop. Sirius kept looking at you with a smile on his face. You tried to ignore it and the way it sent butterflies into your stomach. You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were an adult with adult responsibilities and adult control over your feelings. Sirius should not have this effect on you anymore. 

“How close were you two?” Percy asked, catching you and Sirius in the act of making eye contact and then immediately looking away. 

“Ah, how do you kids say it these days? Frenemies?” you offered. 

Sirius barked a loud laugh. He knew it was a fairly accurate description, it just left out the ‘more than friends’ portions. 

“Frenemies?” Percy repeated.

“A very love-hate relationship. Don’t think your mum approved of all the trouble I got into,” Sirius confirmed. “She really didn’t like it when she got detention for something I did.” 

You groaned at the memory. 

“Sirius had me be his lookout while he stole from Professor Slughorn’s private stores. Potion master. And someone walked out of the closet when I clearly hadn’t given an ‘all clear’ signal.”

“I couldn’t hear you talking to Sluggy. I’ve apologized hundreds of times!”

“What other trouble did you get her into?” Percy asked eagerly. 

The stories you had told him about your days weren’t the ones that ended with you in detention. You left out the stories that involved stealing from professors and the dueling in the corridors and sneaking around with Sirius and any pranks that you happened to be a part of. 

Sirius hummed. “Did your mum ever tell you about the time she sent me flying into a wall? I was in the hospital wing for a week.”

“What? No? Mum?” Percy gasped. He looked between you. “What happened?”

“Your-ahem.” You cleared your throat. You had almost just called Sirius “your father” to Percy. That was a slip up you didn’t need happening. “Sirius was being an idiot and he ended up on the wrong side of my wand. It happens.” You hoped your nonchalance covered up your earlier mistake.

“The wrong side of your wand,” Sirius muttered with a shake of his head. “She hit me with Bombarda!”

“You deserved it.”

Sirius knew better than to argue with that point, especially since he didn’t fancy landing on a pumpkin in the field next to them. Sirius had been breaking up with you, again, when you sent him into the wall. You recalled it coming out of nowhere, but Sirius knew that James and Remus had urged him to get away from you. While he had been in the hospital wing due to his resulting injuries, you had nightly detention for a week. 

“You went around Bombarda-ing people?” Percy asked. 

“I did deserve it,” Sirius said before you could answer.

“Glad you admit it,” you told him before turning to Percy. “This is a ‘do as I say, not as I did’ situation. I’ve sat through more than my fair share of detention.”

“A whole new side to Mum… When did you stop being wild?” 

You scrunched the left side of your face in thought. “Let’s see, you’re fifteen so somewhere around fifteen years ago?”

Percy made a face at you. The three of you walked up to Dogwood and Deathcap. Sirius held open the door for you. The shopkeeper greeted you from behind the counter but only Sirius got named. 

“Do you have any dittany, ma’am?” Percy asked, leaning his arms on the counter to look behind her.

“That I do… Just let me grab it,” the witch answered.

As she turned to get it, Sirius stepped forward and pulled out his pouch of coins. Then you stepped forward, putting a hand over the pouch.

“I can pay,” you told him firmly.

“I want to.”

You glared at each other, each waiting for the other to back down. Somehow, you both missed Percy pulling out his own galleon and sliding it across the counter when the shopkeeper turned around with a package of dittany flowers. 

“Thank you, ma’am. Mum? Sirius? You ready?” 

You blinked and then looked at Percy. 

“Oh, yeah. How much was it?” 

“Just a galleon. Don’t worry about it. Money’s from Uncle.”

When you got back to the main street of Hogsmeade, Percy saw some of his friends heading back to the castle. He gave you one last hug and shook Sirius’ hand again before joining up with them. You and Sirius stood next to each other and watched him practically tackle Draco. Draco glanced back at you, offering a quick wave before they continued down the path. 

“Didn’t tell him much about me, did you?” Sirius asked, still looking where the boys had disappeared into the horizon. 

“He knows enough,” you said. “Sorry I didn’t tell him about the countless times you broke my heart.” 

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“He knows his father was smart, kind and loyal. Stuck up for his friends. I told him that his father had the brightest smile and he got it too. And he does. He has your smile.” You took a sharp breath. “I’m not sorry for leaving certain aspects out so he can have a good image of who his father is.”

“Thank you, then. For making me sound better than I am.” 

You scoffed, or laughed. It was a mix.

“It’s all true, Sirius. The only lie I’ve told him about you is that you’re dead.”

“How did I die?”

This time, it was a real laugh that left your lips, full of warmth. It was the laugh that made Sirius fall in love with you time after time during your time at Hogwarts.

“At the hands of dark magic. If you had died in the war, it would’ve been the truth.”

“Ah, too bad I survived.”

You hummed. “Too bad.” You gave Sirius a kind smile. “I really should be going. And you should be finding Remus.” 

You made to step off to the side where the Floo network was connected, but Sirius reached out to stop you.

“Where are you living nowadays?” he asked rushedly.

“Um, London. Why?” 

“I told you, if you’d want to, I want to try again. Let me take you on a date. I’m in Godric’s Hollow, but I’ll go to wherever if you’re there.” 

You pursed your lips as you considered it. You had said you would talk about it later. Sirius had played nice with the Malfoys and other Slytherin families. He did well with Percy. It had been a nice afternoon.

“Do you have a phone?” you asked.

“No? That’s a muggle thingy, right?” 

You exhaled out of your nose. “Yeah. Then, I mean, I’m reachable by owl. We can grab a drink sometime.”

Sirius smiled widely and let go of your arm. You returned his smile, although yours was more polite while his was full of joy. You grabbed a handful of powder and vanished in a flash of green flames. Sirius waited a moment, staring where you had previously been standing. He had a son and the promise of a drink with you. He shook his head in disbelief as he turned to make his way back to the castle so he could find Remus. This really hadn’t been the day he was expecting when they arrived for the quidditch match, but he wasn’t complaining. 

tags: @corawithfanfiction, @bruxa0007, @ayyeitssarahh, @jgdhmeynsgn

[miraclemuncher]

How hard is it to move on from a crush on Fred Weasley?

tags/warnings. hogwarts setting, sixth year/gof, (probably inaccurate portrayal of) underage drinking and drug use (don’t let the girl who writes fics write abt partying)

notes. accidentally made it like +1.8k words long so i’m splitting it into more parts. oops. bright side is that most of the other part is written already!

wordcount. 841

part 1 | part 3

Fred Weasley makes it so difficult to move on.

You’ve had six pathetic years to either make a move or move on and so far you’ve done neither. Except you have tried making a move, way too many moves.

There’s an unspoken limit to how many first moves a lady should make.

Fred just doesn’t get flirting. How can he when a standard conversation with him is flirting to everyone else but normal to him?

This is the last year you have to relax, to catch a pre-summer fling and then launch into studying the following school term. Your seventh year will be hell on earth.

So this party must be the one. You are going to meet a new guy to fall head over heels for. Or maybe just one to rebound off of. Either way, you needed a distraction from Fred Weasley. You are done chasing.

There’s plenty of Scandinavians from Durmstrang and French boys from Beauxbatons to go around. They’ll be gone by the end of the year, it’s the perfect opportunity for a mutual fling.

Your friends psych you up while pregaming. You’ll meet a new guy! He’ll be way better than Weasley! they tell you. They’re just as sick of your crush as you are.

It’s too bad you’re a lazy drunk.

You end up getting wasted at the party, half listening to Lee’s drunk rambles while your other half is struggling to stay awake.

There’s a bunch of other people listening too, or they’re at least pretending to listen. Lee doesn’t need an active audience to yap anyways.

You’re briefly jolted awake by the couch sinking deeper as someone fills the empty seat next to you. You ignore it and close your eyes again.

But you can’t ignore it because a wet and cold glass of ice water is lightly pressed against your cheek.

Dazed and confused, you shake your head away from it and hold up your half drunken bottle of butterbeer to deny the drink.

When it’s snatched from your hands, you frustratingly turn to the perpetrator. It’s Fred. You’re face to face with Fred Weasley.

Way, way too close, you lean backwards against the couch arms to create distance.

Fred takes a swig from your bottle and his face scrunches up at the taste. “This is just butterbeer? Wow, you’re an authentic lightweight.”

“No I’m not,” you slur your words. You try to reach for your bottle back but end up slumping against Fred over your own weight.

He helped you sit upright with a laugh. You’re melting in his hands, sober or intoxicated that tends to happen.

“Stop laughing. ‘M not a lightweight. I just took some… some… Huh. I don’t know what I took…”

Fred forces you to cup the glass of water as you ramble on about wondering what you took. You take a sip of the glass by reflex, thinking he’s returned your butterbeer. The water actually tastes pretty refreshing. It helps you sort out your memories from the past few hours. “It’s something George gave to me… I think. Or was that you?” You squint at Fred accusingly.

The last thing you remember is Fred jumping to his feet. Then you wake up hungover as hell in your dormitory the next morning.

Everyone who went to that party was hungover more than usual. The Weasley twins apparently laced everyone there trying to test a new product.

Yup. Classic Weasley twins.

Friendliness at best, a practical joke at worst, you remind yourself.

Over breakfast, a bundle of wrapped chocolates almost land in your hangover soup during the mail delivery. There’s a note attached.

George didn’t mean to lace you. Feel better. X. FW

In genuine dis - fucking - belief, you show it to your friends, they had all gotten laced last night too. The Weasley twins are stupid if they think they can pull off a mass spiking the following day.

“What d’you think will happen to me if I eat them? Swollen tongue? Maybe I’ll grow a tail,” you tell them in amusement.

Your friends were not as amused as you.

After one moment of analyzing the note, they conclude, “Oh girl, he wants you.” It was the fastest a group of hungover teens ever agreed on something.

You try to laugh it off. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you guys get a weakass apology too?”

“Have you ever heard ‘Fred Weasley’ and ‘apology’ in the same context?” They reason. They seriously have a point there.

You threw the chocolates to the bottom of your book bag and cut your breakfast short.

So how hard is it to move on from Fred Weasley?

Fucking impossible.

You had one goal, find literally any other warm body for a single night.

Instead, you drunkenly slumped against him, used his water to sober up, and then wake up to possibly cursed chocolates and a handwritten note.

Now he’s in your head again, except he never left.

Moving on? Fred is not letting that happen any time soon.

part 3

[6thhour]

Esoteric

|Sirius Black x Fem!Reader|

4049 words

Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Reader is a Muggle-born, reader is in Hufflepuff & Nawt in the sunshine way, reader is a high-key loner & not by choice

When I was almost done writing this Moon song by Phoebe Bridgers came on and oml

You’ve always been aware that you’re different from everybody else, had it not been for the weird faces people pulled when you came around, people weren’t afraid to point it out vocally

“She’s an odd one!” your primary school teacher would say through a chuckle while talking with your parents

“What a weirdo,” you heard a classmate whisper to another when you sat alone in the canteen.

At eleven your contrast to others was solidified when you received a letter from Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Your parents were stunned, to say the least.

“This must be a prank.”

“It's impossible.”

“There must be some sort of mistake.”

When you and your parents entered Gringotts Wizarding Bank you were the happiest kid in Diagon Alley, for once in your life you were excited to start the school year, you were excited to meet the friends you never had.

Your parents were skeptical of all of this “Wizarding business” as they called it so they only dropped you off at Kings Cross Station, saying goodbye in the car.

You couldn't be bothered to care about your parent's disapproval when you could only think about all the new friends you would finally make.

You sat with a group of older girls who you figured were sisters because on their luggage they had the name Black embroidered on their cases.

They seemed quite close-knit; they all sat shoulder-to-shoulder exchanging conversation. You sort of felt like you were interrupting something so you kept to yourself the whole ride.

The train ride was excruciatingly long but you enjoyed the view you had outside from the window.

You were beyond impressed when you entered Hogwarts, the ceilings were high and littered with floating candle sticks, it was the most breathtaking thing you could’ve imagined.

During the sorting ceremony, you were confused about the houses but you deduced that whichever table cheered after the hat spoke was the one you sat at and you'd go from there.

During your turn the hat sat on your head for a minute speaking out loud about loyalty and kindness before finally deciding on Hufflepuff.

The table with the yellow and black ties was the one that cheered for you. You were excited to be a Hufflepuff.

During your first few weeks, you find that quite a lot of students care about ‘blood purity’, you hear an older Slytherin boy saying he wished he'd gone to Durmstrang because of all the mudbloods crawling around Hogwarts.

You soon learned that you were considered a Mudblood but you didn’t let it bother you, you didn’t feel that you were less than anybody because of your status. Anyone with any real sense wouldn’t care about that.

Your roommates were pleasant, they all seemed to stick together though, they didn't laugh at you or whisper about you which was nice.

At first, you were sure most of your classmates were ahead of you because most of them come from families with at least one magic member but you shared Transfiguration with a redhead girl named Lily who was a muggle-born and could answer every question with ease.

Without knowing, she motivated you to study more often.

As the summer holiday grew near you failed to make friends with the girls in your year. You initially blamed it on the new environment they were facing or the stress of their studies but you began wondering if it was your fault. Did you bore them or the opposite, annoy them?

At the beginning of your second year, you suddenly became the target of some older Slytherins. The boy who tormented you the most was called Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius always had a snide remark to throw your way, sometimes he’d jinx your books blank when you were studying in the library.

Today was no different.

He stalked toward your table with his goons behind him while you sat scribbling words on your transfiguration essay.

“Hm, how tragic being sorted into the house of duffers and being a manky mudblood.” He said loudly to one of his friends before they started laughing.

You sighed and kept writing.

“How tragic being dead ugly and a prat at the same time.” A new voice came from behind Lucius’s group.

Lucius turned around slowly. “Watch your mouth, Black.” He drawled, his nostrils flared

“Take some of your own advice, git.” The voice said.

Lucius scoffed and walked away waving for his goons to follow behind him.

You finally saw the black-haired boy who stuck up for you. Sirius Black.

You remember hearing about how he and his friends get in trouble, you also heard he and the Potter boy were just as bad as Lucius to some kids.

“Thanks,” you whispered meekly

“It’s no problem, Malfoy deserves every bad thing that happens to him,” Sirius said. You only nodded with a tight-lipped smile, nervous he’d think you weren’t worth defending and start making fun of you too.

The book he currently had under his right arm was moved to his left before he stuck out his free arm for a handshake.

“I’m Sirius.” he declared. “I know,” you whispered dropping your quill in your inkpot hesitantly, putting your hand in his and shaking. “I’m Y/N.” Sirius’s handshake was aggressive, causing your arm to rock up and down.

From then on whenever Sirius saw you in the hallways, on the staircases, or in the great hall he shot you a toothy grin and waved.

You weren’t sure whether it was some sort of bit or not but you always waved back just in case it wasn’t.

You saw the faces his mates pulled whenever he smiled at you in their presence, their eyebrow raises, the corner of their lips pulling up in confusion. They acted like everyone else did when you were in primary school.

In the third year, a girl in your year finally started talking to you much to your surprise.

The cozy feeling of happiness filled your brain when a Ravenclaw girl struck up a conversation with you in the library while you studied. She stuck around you for a few weeks.

“Y’know Sirius Black don’t you?” she asked on a random Tuesday.

“Not really,” you replied.

“Well you guys seem awfully friendly in the hallways.” she pointed out

“I guess,” you shrugged.

“You sit right behind him in Charms don’t you?” you furrowed your eyebrows at her; wondering how she knew that to begin with “Yeah, I do.”

“Do you think you could ask him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend since you guys are mates?” she implored, not even looking at you, she was twirling her hair around her pointer finger. You blinked at her for a moment “I guess I could.”

She squealed and giggled happily before giving you a grateful hug.

In Charms you didn’t know why you were so nervous to ask Sirius, maybe it was because over the summer holiday he changed, his hair had gotten longer and he had gotten taller but you swallowed your nerves for your new friend.

“Sirius… Hey Sirius,” you whispered trying not to attract too much attention from surrounding students. The boy turned around with his eyebrows raised before smiling brightly at you.

“Hey, what's up?” he greeted.

“Erm… I know someone who wants to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend.” You admitted

“Oh yeah? Who is this someone?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed playfully and his smile grew smug, and you flushed embarrassed.

“Uhm, it’s my friend who wants to go with you.” His face drops slightly at your words.

“The Ravenclaw you’ve been hangin’ around with?”

You nod.

“She’s very nice, I think you might like her,” You compliment giving Sirius what you hoped was a reassuring smile, he smiles back at you.

Before he can say anything else your professor taps on Sirius’s desk and raises his finger to his lips silently telling you and Sirius to stop talking.

At the end of class, you stopped Sirius before he exited the classroom. “Will you go with her?” you asked looking hopefully at him, the corner of Sirius’s lips quirked up. “Sure, tell your Ravenclaw I can meet her at the Three Broomsticks at noon, yeah?” He accepted.

You smiled at him nodding as you left the class.

Little did you know your friend had been waiting for you outside, she pulled you by your robes taking you by surprise “What did he say?” she interrogated.

After Saturday your friend didn’t come around anymore, you saw her walking with Sirius in the hallways but she ignored you, you tried waving at them both when you passed by them but only Sirius raised his hand before she grabbed it, and interlocked their fingers as they walked.

They didn’t walk together for more than a week, Sirius went back to waving, but you didn’t.

You decided your studies were more important than friends no matter how badly you longed to have some.

Your grades were better compared to your first two years, you had E’s or O’s in every class.

When summer holiday came near you were already dreading the next school year.

As the fourth year began, the only people you talked to were your professors and you only talked to them if you needed confirmation on the contents of an assignment which wasn’t often.

You should’ve been proud of yourself for maintaining such good grades, but you couldn’t be because you didn’t think of anything other than how lonely you felt this year.

Sirius stopped waving and smiling at you this year.

You convinced yourself it was for the best, he didn’t need to tarnish his reputation by being associated with someone like you.

You buried yourself in books the whole school year so the loneliness was bearable.

A large part of you missed Sirius dearly.

You missed the way he would make faces for you during lectures to see you smile, on the rare occasion you laughed out loud, you even missed seeing the faces people made when they realized who he was waving at when he noticed you at the bottom of the moving staircase while he was at the top.

You sat away from Sirius in your shared subjects, you failed miserably in Arithmancy where you had to sit right beside the boy.

In class, he wouldn’t look at you but he would scoot closer than needed and nudge your foot or shin with his boot or purposefully reach over just to stick his quill in your inkpot when he had his own full of ink.

He carried on like that until the very last week of school, then he started smiling at you again.

You couldn’t help yourself.

It was a natural reaction, impossible to stop.

You smiled back.

Over the summer holiday you and Sirius even sent letters back and forth, you didn't want to admit it but you felt loads happier compared to the beginning of the school year.

Fifth year you… developed over the summer, your mum said you were a bit of a late bloomer and that she was glad that your ‘awkward phase’ was over.

You didn’t even know you were in an awkward phase until she told you it was over.

You didn’t want to feel the way you did, you felt… pretty.

You were used to thinking other girls were pretty but never yourself, that's why it felt so unnatural you could never imagine yourself like other girls.

When you came back to school you tried to cover up anything that had changed but it was difficult, to say the least, baggy trousers and jumpers couldn’t conceal the new height or your new assets as your mother called them.

You saw Sirius on the moving staircase on the second day of school.

And dear Merlin.

Sirius.

Sirius had changed over summer as well, his hair had grown noticeably longer. It was down to his chin by now, he got even taller which you didn’t know was possible.

You noticed he was handsome. You didn’t want to notice it, you felt like a creep thinking about him like that.

Your mind betrayed you, your mum told you- no she warned you that you’d start noticing boys soon, which you knew was inevitable, you just didn’t want it to be your only friend.

Over the next few weeks, you heard things…Your roommates were talking about Sirius while you were getting familiar with the new textbooks.

“I heard that Sirius Black shagged the Ravenclaw head girl.”

“No! You can’t be serious!”

“Hasn’t Sirius gotten so fit? I mean he was fit before but now he’s ethereal!”

“You’re so right! Ugh, I wonder if he’s into Hufflepuffs…”

“Oh Please! He’d probably shag anything with a pulse.”

Every time you heard gossip like that you couldn’t help but blush, some of the things you heard people say about Sirius now were downright naughty.

You subconsciously started avoiding Sirius after hearing all of the rumours you couldn’t face him until you had no option but to talk to him.

You were where you usually were during your free period, in the library, studying.

“Where’ve you been, hm?” you heard him before you saw him, you slowly turned around to see where Sirius Black stood looking at you expectantly with an arched brow.

“Here? At Hogwarts…” You respond, your face instantly feeling hot.

“Oh- okay smartass,” he chuckled. “We write to each other all summer and you’re suddenly too good for me?” He accuses.

You feel the heat creep up to the tips of your ears and dip down your neck.

“I wasn’t- I’m not too good for you.” You defend, Sirius only laughs and sits next to you.

“Don’t worry I was kidding, mostly.” He admits “You have been avoiding me though, haven’t you?” He said sincerely.

“I’ve just been erm… busying myself with the new textbooks and material.” you excuse, he hums in response before he kicks his boots up on the table and takes the book in front of you into his own hands, “This is O.W.L level Care of Magical Creatures.” he pointed out, “Thanks captain obvious, I told you I was studying.” You said leaning over to grab the book back from his hands.

He stopped and stared at you for a while “What?” you asked, your voice quieter than it was earlier, “You look different this year.” He announced, your eyebrows furrowed for a moment before you opened your mouth to say something but you stopped yourself, feeling nervous under his gaze.

“You look different too,” you said with your eyes back on the pages of your book trying to hide your face which was now definitely red, as best as you could while still looking casual.

The boy moved his feet off the table and leaned where his feet used to rest to get a good look at your face, you made the mistake of looking up from the pages and your eyes locked with his grey ones, you felt your face get impossibly hotter and Sirius smirked at the effect he had on you.

You spent more and more time with Sirius in the library as the first term went on, while you tried to read Sirius talked about other students, whether they were students he wanted to brawl with or students he wanted to shag your stomach dropped with every conversation, the idea of him getting hurt and the idea of him being with other girls both rubbed you the wrong way, nevertheless, you said nothing.

During the second term Sirius couldn’t be found in the same room as you unless it was a classroom, he also couldn’t be found without a girl clinging to his arm. It seemed to be a new one every week.

Whenever you saw him and whichever girl he was with at that moment you felt an indescribable pit form in your stomach.

You didn’t know if it was jealousy or envy or something entirely different.

You didn’t know why you felt that way. You knew deep down that you truly never had a chance. It was Sirius Black for Merlin's sake.

It was like a never-ending cycle, you and Sirius would fall out of touch and you would bury yourself in your studies, alone again.

You wished that you were like Sirius, if he were in an argument with Remus he could always hang out with James and vice versa, he told you all about the arguments that ended up like that.

He didn’t truly need you. He had much more outgoing friends, he probably only kept coming back to you because he felt bad. That’s the only reason he even began speaking to you in the first place.

You went the rest of your fifth year watching Sirius from a distance and studying.

Over the summer you didn’t get any letters from Sirius, you wrote him one, saying you hoped he had a good summer.

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts, you’re expecting a quiet year having not heard or seen from Sirius, maybe this was finally it. Maybe you could finally stop letting yourself yearn over someone who didn’t want or need you.

As you expected, you were alone for most of the first term, studying, as per usual. You were content.

The second term started the same as well.

“You’re hard to find.”

Your heartbeat sped up after hearing the male’s voice, and the quill in your hand dropped onto the parchment you were hunched over.

You turned around to see a blonde boy with a Gryffindor tie, you let out a sigh of relief before turning back around.

“Hey! You just looked at me! I know you heard me talking to you.” He said, you turned back around to look at the boy, and he waved in your direction. You looked around.

“Are you talking to me?” You wandered out loud, “Of course, I’m talking to you! You’re the only one here.” He said through a chuckle.

“Oh,” you said dumbly

“You were looking for me?” You asked, recalling his earlier words.

He nodded his head. “I’ve seen you around for a while, you spend a lot of time here don’t you?”

You flushed, embarrassed at his observation.

“Uh yeah I guess I do,” you admitted giggling bashfully.

He walked toward your table and sat next to you.

“You’re cute, y’know.” He declared.

The only way you could respond was with another round of bashful giggles, this drew a laugh from the boy.

You learned his name is Philip Foreman and he’s a seventh-year student. He was a nice enough guy, he makes a few backhanded remarks about your clothes or how much time you spent in the library but you didn’t pay it much mind.

After a few weeks of Philip coming to the library, he asked you to go to Hogsmeade with him, you weren’t sure if you liked him the way he wanted you to but he was nice, so you agreed.

“How about we stop at Honeydukes?” He proposed while swinging your gloved hand with his, your fingers interlocked with his.

You nodded, silently accepting.

You let Philip drag you around to look at different sweets.

“Sirius! Isn’t that your girl?” you heard someone whisper-shout.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“What’re you-…What in the bloody hell is she doing here with Foreman.” You heard Sirius’s voice hiss.

Your breath hitched.

They couldn’t be talking about you, could they?

You were frozen in place with Philip’s hand in yours. Philip was blissfully unaware.

You tried to push what you heard out of your mind but it was hard when you felt eyes on you as you traveled through Honeydukes constantly reminding you.

You were relieved when you and Phillip arrived back at the castle, away from prying eyes.

The morning after you went to Hogsmeade with Phillip you had just walked into the library when you got pulled into a corner.

You yelped from surprise.

You were face to face with Sirius Black putting a finger to his lips to shush you.

You were speechless, after months on end of ignoring you Sirius had the nerve to come storming back into your life and shush you.

Before you could say anything Sirius began

“What in Merlin’s beard were you doing in Hogsmeade holding hands with Phillip Foreman?” Sirius interrogated, his eyebrows furrowed in what looked like anger, maybe frustration.

“What did it look like? I was on a date.” You replied with what you hoped was an assertive tone.

“A date?!” Sirius whisper-shouted “With Phillip fucking Foreman!?” He kept going.

“Yes Sirius, I was on a date with Phillip Foreman.” You said calmly.

‘No.”

“What do you mean no? No, what?”

“No more Phillip Foreman, He’s a wanker.”

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“If Phillip is a wanker then what does that make you!?” You asked angrily

“It makes me someone who wants to protect you!”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before grabbing Sirius by the wrist and dragging him out of the library and into the nearest vacant hallway.

“You want to protect me when you haven’t spoken or written to me in months! Months Sirius! You want to protect me but you’re the one who’s hurting me!”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond

“Stop right there! I’m not done yet; you love to do that, it’s a never-ending cycle with you! You always leave me stranded and alone and without a friend!”

Tears begin streaming from your eyes now.

“You finally start steadily communicating but all you talk about is shagging other girls, then after the holiday you just don’t speak to me ever again! Oh- not until there’s a boy who’s actually interested in me, but no; I'm not allowed to go on a date because mighty Sirius Black forbids it! Why?”

You catch your breath.

“Because you’re so selfish that once you abandon me you can’t let me be happy with someone who isn't you? Is that it?”

You’re shaking from how angry you are, your face is red and hot with tears.

Sirius watches you for a moment.

“If you have nothing to say, leave me alone since you’re so good at it.” You scoff exasperated.

Sirius doesn’t say anything but he pulls you by the back of your head into his chest.

More tears leave your eyes, wetting the front of his shirt, your hands go to his back and you grab fistfuls of his shirt, grounding yourself.

He kisses the top of your head.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers against your hair “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve completely messed this up, I’ve messed you up.”

More tears well up in your eyes.

“I wanted you to get jealous in the fifth year.” he admits with a wet laugh “I wanted you to walk up to me and whatever girl I was with and tell me you wanted me.”

You hear him sniffle.

“But you’re not that kind of girl, I should’ve known.”

Sirius pulls away and looks down at your tear-stained cheeks, he cups your face.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats “I’m so sorry, love.”

He thumbs away your tears, replaces his thumbs with his lips, and kisses where your tears were.

His own cheeks were tear-stained, you brought your hands up to his face to mimic his gesture and wipe away his tears.

He gives you another pained laugh as your hands slip down to your sides again.

He looks into your eyes like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

Sirius leans down so his nose is brushing against yours.

“I love you… I’m so sorry,” he repeats the apology, he’s so close you can feel the syllables leaving his lips and touch yours.

He finally kisses you.

It feels like you’ve been waiting a lifetime to feel his lips on yours.

Your hands reach his neck pulling him impossibly closer and your fingers grip the roots of the hair on the back of his neck, the kiss leaves you breathless and needing more.

When you both finally pull apart you look in his eyes and he looks in yours.

“I love you too, Sirius.”

[sevencruxestorulethemall]

α ɱεɱσ૨αɓℓε ɳเɠɦƭ

pairing - Oliver Wood x F!Reader

summary - Professor McGonagall surprises you the night of the Yule Ball, after convincing you to attend when you refused to go

warnings - none

You'd always dreaded the year you'd have to spend without Oliver in the school. Even a normal school year seemed bleak without his presence to keep you going, but the universe seemed to hate you because your seventh year at Hogwarts would be far from an ordinary school year.

The Triwizard Tournament brought a challenge for everyone, regardless of champion status - the Yule Ball.

But while everyone else was running around looking for dates, asking their crushes out...you were going about your usual business. Not looking twice at any boy who approached you.

You didn't want to go if you couldn't go with Oliver.

However, Cedric Diggory and a Durmstrang boy had other plans for you.

Now, anyone with eyes can tell you that the Durmstrang boys and the Hufflepuff prefect were attractive, and walking in with either one would turn heads. That, and Cedric was a Triwizard champion.

Unfortunately for them, you weren't looking for a date.

"I'm sorry, Cedric, but I don't think I'll be attending," you offered him an apologetic smile.

He nodded in understanding, though looking a bit disappointed. That made you feel bad, but not as bad as you would have felt if you'd accepted him as a date and ended up thinking about your boyfriend the entire night.

A mere few hours later, however, a Durmstrang student tried his luck. He approached you with a charming smile that would have given you butterflies if you weren't in love with Oliver.

"Hello. Your name (Name), yes?" His thick Bulgarian accent did not match his smile.

"That's right," you offered a friendly smile.

"Would you like to go to the ball with me?"

"I'm afraid Miss (Last Name) is already taken," a familiar professor spoke from behind you. The Durmstrang boy nodded respectfully and left.

You turned to your head of house, confused, "I'm sorry, professor?"

Professor McGonagall smiled, gesturing for you to walk with her. You obeyed and fell into step beside her, wondering what this was about.

"I heard that you were planning to skip the Ball," she finally spoke. "May I ask why?"

Your cheeks heated up, the thought of having to explain your reasoning to your head of house being too embarrassing to bear. But she turned to look at you expectantly, so you answered.

"I just don't want to go with anyone that's not Oliver, professor."

Her lips curled into a smile. YOur relationship with Oliver spanned a few years. You'd known him since your first year and his second, and he'd asked you out in your fourth year and his fifth. The entire time, Professor McGonagall watched the two of you only get closer. She was well aware of how attached you were to him.

"Will you not go with your friends?" She suggested.

"They...all have dates," you admitted, your face burning now with embarrassment.

"I see," she hummed thoughtfully. "Well, do consider changing your mind. The Yule Ball is an extraordinary event that no student should have to miss." Her eyes sparkled with something, for a moment, but you couldn't tell what.

"I will, professor."

Days later, you sat on your bed an hour before the ball was scheduled to start. Your dress was laid out before you, your mind running through a debate of whether to go or not. Since your conversation with Professor McGonagall, the Durmstrang boy had asked twice more, apparently having heard from one of your friends that you were not taken.

Speaking of your friends, who were long gone to find their dates, they had been acting weird this entire day. Giggling amongst themselves, pestering you to join them at the ball, and promising that you'll be thrilled. It drove you mad trying to decipher their behaviour.

You decided to go, although you weren't sure why. Call it a feeling.

When you were ready, you nervously made your way to the Great Hall. You didn't have a date, first of all, and secondly you were one of the last to get there.

You stopped halfway down the stairs, once your eyes connected with a pair of familiar, warm brown ones.

There, amongst the students gathered at the bottom of the stairs, stood the most handsome boy you'd ever seen. In dress robes that had your head spinning. He looked too good to be true, and this felt too good to be true.

For a moment you just stood there, shock freezing you to the spot. Then, when he smiled with the most awestruck look in his eyes, you bounded down the stairs and ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck, lips meeting in a fierce kiss.

Oliver chuckled against your lips, his hands coming to rest on your lower back as you embraced him with the might of a dragon. He kissed you deeply, silently conveying that he had missed this, missed you, just as much as you did.

"I can't believe you're here!" You beamed when you parted, one of your hands coming to rest on his cheek. "How..?"

"Well, I heard you weren't going to go with anyone but me," he grinned, a little too smugly for your liking. His thick Scottish accent made you shiver, pleasantly, and was like music to your ears after so long not hearing it.

Your eyes found Professor McGonagall as she came to fetch the champions, and the knowing smile on her face made you realise this was her doing. You smiled brightly at her, thanking her with your eyes before looking back at Oliver. Your eyes roamed his face, the face you'd never forget and could spend an eternity staring at.

"Come on," he laughed when he noticed you were just watching him, unmoving. "We'll be the last ones in." He guided you into the Great Hall with his one hand still on your back.

The champions danced first, but once Neville guided Ginny onto the dancefloor the rest of the students followed suit. Soon you were slow-dancing with your boyfriend, still looking up at him in awe and slight shock.

"So Fred told me an interesting thing before you came down the stairs," he pulled you closer, gently swaying with you.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. "What did he tell you?"

"Cedric Diggory asked you to be his date?"

You groaned, "I'm going to kill that twin!"

Oliver laughed, "Before you do that, I'm not bothered by it. I'm just curious why you didn't agree go come with who seems to be the most attractive boy in your year...apparently."

At that, you started laughing, "That's the view of most girls here. Not mine, however. I declined because I wanted to come with the most attractive guy I know." You smiled at him warmly. "The only guy I want to go with to everything."

He pulled you right against him, earning a small squeak from you as his hands gripped your waist, "Now what am I supposed to say to that, hm?"

"Nothing," you grinned. "I kind of hoped you'd be speechless."

He laughed with you, and leaned down to kiss you gently.

The rest of the evening he spent telling you about his time with Puddlemere United so far, and you brought him up to speed on the Triwizard Tournament. It felt so good to talk to him in person again, and getting to hold his hand the entire time made it even better.

You were probably the last to leave the Great Hall, in the early hours of the morning. Oliver walked you back to the Gryffindor common room, and although you didn't want to let him go you knew you had to. So you parted with a kiss and a promise that he'd try to come again soon, maybe to watch one of the trials.

Exhausted but happy, you flopped onto your bed with the most lovestruck grin on your face, one that remained until you fell fast asleep.

Professor McGonagall got a nice little gift from you the very next day.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Spoiled Brat

Remus Lupin x Fem!Gaunt!Reader

August Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Summary: When your escapism over the summer turns a bit more real, as you fall in love with a half blood your father would never approve of}

Wc- 3642

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, sexual themes and scenes, cussing, }

A/N- This was an idea I have been toying with for a while, this may become a mini-series if you'd like

Taglist- @otterlockholmes

Part two

If it was one thing your parents stuck into your head when you were younger, it was that you, {Y/N} Gaunt, were better than any other witch in your presence. 

‘The Lost Gaunt’ is what they referred to you as. You, and of course, your parents fed into this idea. People were sure they had died out, either from your family's admittedly embarrassing financial status, or from a few choice family members disgracing your blood line with Muggle blood.

It wasn't a secret, your family's blood soaked history and ideals on muggles of any variety. Your father spoke especially lowly of half bloods, saying they were some of the most loathsome and desperate of them all, with parents who tainted their good family names by giving it to scum. 

Very opinionated, that man.

You were much the same when you were younger. Snappy and spoiled, demanded everything and no one ever fought you on it. Even with your family's position with lack of wealth, when your parents came out of hiding as Voldemort started his horrid flock, your father didn't hesitate to join. There was no lack of support from expected places. Every pureblood with half sense wanted to be in the good graces of the heir of Slytherin, even if she didn't attend the school. Little you was treated like an absolute princess. Even receiving a letter from Durmstrang personally, your father opting for the obvious choice, burning your Hogwarts letter before you even read it. 

It made you an absolute terror when you got to the foreign school. Suddenly, you weren't as special as you were in London. Your name still carried a lot of marit, but so did several other students. You learned to keep your mouth shut, to keep your cards to your chest, and eventually, you unlearned everything your parents taught you. You met half bloods there, stronger than you had ever known witches and wizards to be, making close friends with several other open minded purebloods and friendly half bloods. 

Of course, you still had a family name to uphold. You studied and worked your hardest, eventually making it high enough on a social latter that Gaunt no longer mattered, but {Y/N} did. 

You started your rebellious streak in year 4, when your father asked you if you wanted to return home for the summer. It was the first time he gave you the choice, you refused. Instead, you traveled to Muggle London without his knowing. You went with a few friends, half bloods, they wanted to show you where they grew up. Your father would have your head for this. You thought in amusement as you danced through the market and gawked at all the muggle contraptions. You were sure to them you looked absolutely delirious, but you couldn't care less in the moment.

You wandered down the streets with a few girls who had broken off from the group. When you noticed a record store, your friends waved you off, refusing to join when they knew you'd be in there for hours. A boy who fancied you gifted you a small record player, and since then, you had been collecting muggle records at any opportunity. Thank Merlin your father didn't keep track of your spending.

You walked in with your head held high, you already gave off the impression of someone too good to be there, a force of habit. You walked down the aisle and searched the albums, dismissing people who tried to educate you on what was best, mostly men trying to impress you, you figured. Nothing more charming than being spoken down to. Eventually, you made it to some of the older ones, clearly used and used and used again. A soft yellow album caught your eye from the top shelf. Etta Jones? You thought for a moment. You had never seen it before, but the woman on the cover looked beautiful. 

You got on your toes and began to balance on a shelf, struggling to reach the damned record. You have a huff, ready to give in, before you hear a chuckle behind you. Whipping your head around you nearly spun around completely. Then, you saw him. A boy, he looked to be your age, tanned skin with soft pink scars littering his form, with one large one across his face. He had shaggy sandy blonde hair, almost brown, and the cockiest smirk on his face.

You huffed at him and put your hands on your hips, tilting your head at him. “Not very polite, you know. Watching a lady struggle without even an offer of help.” 

His smirk slowly turned to a dazzling smile. “You want my help? You've been blowing past people who've offered you help this whole time.” He remarked and you scoffed.

“Don't be coy. They weren't exactly being truly helpful. Also, no one here is as,” You gestured to him with both hands. “Vertically gifted as you.” 

He laughed at this and you got another flash of his pearly whites. “That so?”

“I only speak the truth.”

“That I see.”

“So will you?”

“Will I what?”

You scoffed with a scandalized look, gesturing to the album. “Help a damsel in distress?” 

He gave a playful hum and put his hands in his jean pockets, leaning forward a bit in his brown jumper that laid over a mustard yellow button up. “I'm not really the princely type, princess.” He teased and you slowly smirked. “I'm more in line with the monster.” 

“Well, kind monster, would you do your princess the kindness of grabbing her this single?” You hummed and he laughed. “My princess?”

“If you behave.” 

He looked you up and down before he walked over and grabbed the record, looking it over and holding it just out of reach as you tried to snatch it away. “What if I don't?”

You huffed and gave up on trying to swipe it, crossing your arms and biting your cheek. “That's not a very gentlemanly thing to do.”

“I'm not a very gentlemanly person.” He gave you a look that had the alarm bells in your head sounding, but you bit your lip and nodded. “Fine then. What would you like in return, hm?”

“Your name.”

“My name?” You huffed and smiled once more. He nodded with a serious look, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“{Y/N}.” You introduced and held your hand out. “You don't need my last name. You'll never have to call me it.” You remarked and his eyebrows raised in delight. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You mused as he handed you the record. 

“And your name?”

“Remus. Guess I'll skip the last name too. But please, call me Moony.” He remarked and you nodded. 

“Until next time, Moony.”

“Next time, {Y/N}.”

The summer was absolute bliss. You spent it doing all the things your father hated about muggles. Running in fields and jumping in stray bodies of water, going to parties and drinking until you were sick. You kissed muggle boys, went to underground concerts, and even took enchanted pictures for yourself to keep.

Though, you didn't see that record store boy for the rest of the summer. Not from lack of trying, however, going to the store twice a week to try and snag a glimpse of him. Eventually you gave up and went back to your friends.

The next summer, you did see him again. This time, it was a month in, you were out late at a party, and were waiting for the bus to take you to the flat you had bought under a fake muggle name. Well, you say you bought, in reality you had been taking portions of money from your father and pureblood families that wanted your favor, from the start of the school year, saving up enough to be the spoiled girl you were. 

You were standing under a street lamp, leaning against it as you pulled out a packet of cigarettes. You put it to your lips, just as you did, a voice called over to you. “Need a light?”

You turned to face the boy who seemed to sneak up on you in alarm, before you slowly lit up at the sight of him. He seemed puzzled by your expression before recognition covered his features. “Record store princess.”

“Record store monster.” You cheeked and he walked over, leaning down to cover the end of your smoke from the wind, lighting it with a simple flick. You didn't even think about how you didn't hear the usual metallic click of a lighter, instead, a snap. That was how you lit them anyway. 

“Where have you been, pretty boy?” You asked after a long drag, and he watched you breathe the smoke out of your lungs, eyes lingering on your lips. This made you curl them to give him a better view. “Around.”

“Something caught your eye?”

“Someone.” He muttered and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing at the bus station. “I'm heading home, to my flat. Care to make sure your princess gets home safe?” 

He chuckled at the bold offer, rubbing the back of his neck and wetting his lips. There was a pause as he thought about it. “... lead the way.”

That summer was somehow even better than the previous. He spent the night with you, that night, then every single other night. He came and never dreamed of leaving, only gone a handful of days for a few hours at a time for his summer job.

There was this amazing peace, waking up, laying in your stomach, hugging your pillows in your plush massive mess of blankets and pillows, with him. Most of the boys you brought back would be gone in the morning, you preferred it that way, but when you woke up to his arm around your bare back and his nose in the nape of your bruised and bite ridden neck, you couldn't dream of another outcome.

He joked, the second he saw the large canopy bed, about you letting monsters into your private quarters. He seemed to not think so highly of himself, but with every part of your skin he discovered, with every touch and sound he drew from you, he seemed to grow more confident in your situationship. It was dangerous, you knew it, this muggle boy had you wrapped around his finger. Judging by the way he looked at you when you would fall into the clouds of euphoria, he met the same fate.

You had never felt so content, going out and partying, coming home before he did, and spending your nights and afternoons together. With the odd exceptions of a few days out of the months, he was glued to you. Your friends teased you, but for once, you couldn't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. When school came, you had never felt so crushed. You spent the day before lingering in each other's presence without a word. The silence was enough. 

When he brought you to bed, and your skin was pressed to his, his nose to your temple as he whispered sweet words of encouragement and pure infatuation, you were wreathing and gasping in short spouts, you muttered something that drew his rough movements to a stop. You hadn't even realized it, and he noticed how your eyes squished together and you whined with a huff. Fluttering open your eyes, staring up at his knee weakening hazels. He stared at you in silence and you slowly moved to sit up. It clicked to him, you hadn't even realized what you said. You'd never know that those three little words utterly destroyed him. Knowing that tomorrow he would be away from you again. He knew it would be hell.

He huffed and slowly pulled back. He began slowly, taking you in as if he was trying to commit you to memory. Every curve and blemish, every bit of scarred flesh he devoured with an open mouth kiss. You were lost once more to your own ecstasy. 

He wanted to say it back so horribly. 

He wanted you to know he loved you too.

~~~

You spent all of your sixth year waiting for summer, but when it came you dreaded it. Your father told you that you were to move back to London and resume your normal life in preparation for finding you a suitor.

He had promised your mother that he would wait until you were at least 20 to start, but her passing this year it seems he changed his mind. So you returned to business as usual, being enrolled in Hogwarts for your last year of schooling, and being undertaken by the Black’s matriarch, Walaburga, to learn how to be a pureblood witch worth marrying.

Every day she would come to the Gaunt manor, quiz and train you on behaviors and etiquette. You hated those meetings, she was needlessly cruel and fake nice, to the point it was painful for you to watch her try and flatter and build your fathers ego. It made you sick. Soon, but not soon enough, the summer was over and at least you would be at Hogwarts and away from that sour faced woman.

~~

Remus had gone to your flat that summer, he stayed there for a week before he realized you weren't coming home. He hated it. He hated how you didn't tell him where you were, where you were going. There was this silent agreement between the both of you, You never told him where you would be and he never asked, Never exchanged much about your current personal lives, just the past. So if someone was to ask him where you were, he wouldn't have a clue.  You promised him you'd see each other next summer, and that was enough. 

At first his bitterness was winning, he wanted to believe you left without a word because you wanted nothing more than what you were that summer. Deep down, however, he knew. He knew by the way you looked at him in the morning, how you would pull him into the middle of the room in your socks and his shirt, like it was a dress on you, twirling around and slow dancing to that record he got you the first time you met. You always got what you wanted, and Remus knew he was what you wanted. When he left, he set a paper folded up between the door and the wall, a simple but desperate note. He needed you.

So when he got back to Hogwarts, he was a wreck. His friends noticed immediately. When he sat on the train, and looked out the window instead of shoving his nose in a book or teasing the others together.

“Moony, you good man?” James spoke up first after the three shared awkward looks. 

“Yeah dude, you look like a kicked puppy. Or James when Lily isn't looking at him.” Sirius tried to joke, looking through his suitcase before he paused and his eyes widened.

Remus was suddenly filled with dread. “Don't-”

“Let me guess, the cool girl you met last summer didn't show up this time? Told you, muggle girls her age are crazy.” Sirius laughed, not looking up, only to get jabbed harshly in his side with James’ elbow. Sirius hissed and held his side, looking at James with a glare before James flicked his eyes to Remus.

Sirius looked over and saw just how broken up Remus seemed to be about it. He sighed and gave him a pained sympathetic look. Watching as Peter took out a chocolate bar and handed it over to Remus. He muttered a thank you and took it. Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Look, I'm sorry dude. I don't mean it.”

“It's fine.” Remus answered quickly. “I was surprised she even gave me the time of day. I guess I always have that summer. I'll be over it in time, I'm sure she isn't missing me as much, as I'm moping over her, maybe that will help me get over it.”

He tried to believe that. He really did. His words were coming out low, he tried to sound wise but he truly sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. She was all he could think about. From the train, to the carriages, to the Great Hall. Lily saw him and gave him a pout, he had written to her over the summer about what had happened. He wanted her perspective about what had happened, where he could have gone wrong, and out of the thirty he sent her she responded in kind to all of them. She walked up to him, straight past James which left the tall boy to theatrics. 

“Sirius did she just-” James gasped and clenched his chest.

“She did, James, she did.” Sirius walked up behind him with a smirk.

“Does she love me anymore?” He turned to Sirius and the shorter boy snickered.

“I don't think so, Jamie. I'll always love you, though.” Sirius indulged his theatrics and caught James (totally not with a struggle, totally smooth, Sirius is very strong) and James gasped. “You will, won't you, pads?”

“Always, my love.” Sirius declared his affections and James fanned his face like a swooning Victorian debutante. Lily rolled her eyes so hard she swore they would fall from her face. 

She turned back to Remus who gave her a painful smile. “I left her a note like you suggested.”

“Anything?”

“Nothing.” Remus sighed and she nodded carefully. 

“I'm sure there is more to it, Remus. Don't let it consume you.” Lily tried to reassure him and he sighed again, making James and Sirius catch up as they sat down. 

“Yeah, there are a million girls in the world!” Sirius tried to cheer him up and both Lily and James winced at that.

“None of them are like her.” Remus sighed and Sirius gave an owl-like look and then gave a breath of shock. “... Damn Remus, that much, huh?”

He groaned and hit his head on the table. “I just want to sleep.”

“We could always ditch the sorting ceremony.” Lily tried to nudge him, he seemed to smile at her a bit at the offer. 

“Yeah, but then you'll miss a seventh year being sorted.” Peter piped up and the four of them snapped over to look at him. 

“What? Seventh?” She asked as she looked up at the kids in front of the hall, before she bit her tongue. “Right.. that Gaunt girl every Slytherin is losing their mind over?” 

Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice before he quickly cleared his throat as James patted his back. “Woah mate!”

“Her! My mom was tutoring her all summer. Regulus told me. That girl, trying to be the perfect bride or some shit? Just another spoiled pureblood.” Sirius huffed and Lily gave a faint nod. “I hate to agree, but apparently she's the worst.”

“Of course, she's the Slytherin heir.” Sirius huffed. “Apparently she went to Dumstrung, and you know how awful they are.”

“Ah.” Lily mumbled and her eyes landed on you past the crowd, nudging Remus. “There she is. Oh Merlin, spoiled and pretty? Dangerous combination.”

Remus sighed and looked over as you sat on the chair. His entire body froze. “Ahh! {Y/N} Gaunt! Slytherin!” 

The hat didn't hesitate. You had a calm blank expression you were tutored on all summer. Looking across the students, almost bored. You stood up and dusted off your robes, before you froze up at the sound of your name being shouted across the hall.

Remus didn't think. He saw you and shot up from his seat. Lily looked at him, startled, looking between the two before her eyes widened at the name. Oh Merlin. 

Sirius was bewildered, James was stunned, and Peter hid his face away from the crowds of students who turned to look at Remus. He got a variety of different looks from everyone, but there was a running theme. Who do you think you are? Talking to Gaunt.

“{Y/N}.” He called again, firmer. You looked like a deer in headlights. Staring at him in a stunned silence before one of the girls you met on the train tugged at your sleeve. You glanced at her and by the time you looked back, Remus was rushing across the hall to you. No no no no no.

“Fuck.” You hissed and snatched your sleeve from her. You watched as he closed in on you. You felt every hair on your neck stand up. “Fuck fuck.” You whispered.

You panicked. And you ran. He was stunned and froze on the spot. You ran straight out of the hall. Remus cursed and turned to his friends, then to the professors. Lily tried to stand and bring him back to sit down, but as if he was a wild animal, the movement gave him a rush of adrenaline. What did he do? What did this absolute stupid and love sick fool do? 

He ran after you. The entire hall was silent, even the professors stunned before his head of house yelled at him to sit down. He ignored them, turning the corner out of the hall and dashing down the hall he saw you run down.

The hall was quiet for a moment or two, before Lily spoke up. “I'll make it up to you, Professors!” She shouted back before she ran after the two. 

“Me too!” James shouted and followed after her. 

“I will not!” Sirius laughed and ran after them, Peter looking at the shouting professor before she made eye contact with him. Peter slowly sat up and she gave him a warning glance, before he quickly scrambled after his friends. 

McGonagall could only sigh as Dumbledore stifled a laugh into his sleeve.