four2andnew

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rb and put in the tags your birthstone, your sign and what album is on repeat for you lately

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I think you should write a one shot of ginny writing her older self a letter like this girls video https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMSHR3c4v/, but with a husband named Harry Potter and then having Harry discover it lmao.

Your wish is my command.

Vinegar

When Harry helped Ginny pack up her bedroom at the Burrow so they can move in together, he found a letter that seven-year-old Ginny wrote to her future self.

[four2andnew]

[four2andnew]

so I have a really unusual first name /last name combo and I don't think anyone else has it, so I'm curious what it's like for other people

Please reblog to reach more people!

PSA: do NOT share your full legal name on this post, please stay safe

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[four2andnew]

OotP, Ch 32

I find it interesting how everyone else in the room reacts to Hermione's 'confession' and don't figure it out until:

“Well,” gulped Hermione into her hands, “well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore. . . .” Ron froze, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor’s toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised.

However, the first thing that stands out here is how Harry is the only one in the room who notices Hermione's absence of tears, which just goes on to prove Harry is actually way more observant than people give him credit for. This is only one of the instances where he picks up on things that no one else does.

And, how Harry sees right through her bs and figures she has something else in mind, which could be partly be a testament to how well he knows her; but I also like to think it's because he is such a manipulative little shit himself, he notices right away when someone else is trying to do the same and that is kinda funny to me.

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Writing prompt: historical fantasy type setting with twin princesses born in a matriarchal society, where their parents keep their birth order a secret until their 25th year when the eldest twin will ascend to the throne despite their many elder singleton brothers, which would be decidedly, ya know, less messy.

Meanwhile, the heir has been betrothed to a neighboring (patriarchal) king's nephew, but since no one but the Queen and her midwife know who was born first, he must court both princesses.

The reveal is both the new Queen's coronation and the wedding.

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"Harry and Ginny had a shotgun wedding" you say.

But I tell you that actually it's already a miracle if Harry wasn't looking for engagement rings while Ginny was doing her last year at Hogwarts.

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Not so morning people

Harry and Ginny

Ron and Hermione

Remus and tonks

Molly and Arthur Weasley

James and lily

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Women in Shakespeare

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Xaden riorson is not a man, he’s a carefully curated combination of smirk, trauma, back muscles and tattoos.

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The evil stranger

written for @ginnystrophyhusband prompt: pose

9. Pose

Ginny was tired. Lily Luna who she was holding in her arms was whining, Al was hiding behind her leg and James—who was not known to be shy—was also refusing to have his picture taken.

What was supposed to be a quick trip to the muggle mall for a few cute pictures, turned into a complete battle.

“James, will you just pose, please?” Ginny asked.

The photographer was being incredibly patient with all of them.

“No.” He shook his head resolutely. “Dada says the photographers are mean.” He glared at the photographer.

She was going to kill Harry. “That’s not what he meant, darling.” She glanced at the photographer. “I’m so sorry.” She turned back to James. “He was talking about reporters. This is not that.”

James eyed her in disbelief, cocking his head to the side. Harry claimed he got his attitude from her.

“Albus?” Ginny said. “Do you want to go?”

Green eyes stared up at her, pupils big.

“Gin?”

She looked up hopefully at Harry voice. “We’re in here.”

He appeared a moment later. “So, how many pictures do we have yet?” he asked with a hopeful tone.

So terribly naive, Ginny thought. “One of Lily and she was crying. I was hoping Al would follow James’ lead but someone told him that photographers were the root of all evil.” She emphasised the last words of her sentence and shot him an accusatory look.

He winced. “Oops.” He turned to James. “Those photographers are evil because they sell pictures to the newspaper. This photographer is selling the pictures to us. He’s a good one.”

“How can you tell?” James asked.

Harry paused for a moment, thinking.

“The other photographers don’t wait for us to pose, they scare us by appearing and taking our picture without asking. This very nice young man is waiting very politely until we are ready to pose and we tell them we’re ready,” Ginny explained.

“Yes,” Harry chimed in. “So why don’t you go ahead and pose?”

James walked up in front of the photographer and she felt Albus peek from behind her.

“You know what? Let’s just all pose for one family picture and call it a day?” she suggested, adjusting the one-year-old to sit on her hip so she’d at least be facing the camera somewhat.

Harry turned to her as if he wanted to suggested something different, caught her expression and smiled reassuringly. “Good idea.” He held out his hand to their youngest son. “Come on, Al. It’ll be fun.”

Getting her two sons and her camera-shy husband to pose was a victory she didn’t want to ruin. She quickly joined beside Harry with little Lily and smiled.

The photographer snapped three pictures.

“That’s great,” Ginny said, handing Lily over to Harry. “Let’s go for ice cream.”

The photographer smiled. “I’ll have the pictures ready in half an hour.”

“Thank you so much for your patience,” Ginny told him before following Harry out who was trying to keep an eye on James while carrying Lily and holding Al’s hand.

He waits for her. “It was unwise to leave you outnumbered three-to-one with a stranger involved.”

She chuckled lightly. “Oh, it was.” She eyed James, who looked entranced by a vending machine.

“The picture is going to be really nice though,” he told her. “And you look gorgeous.”

“Oh, please.” She snorted. “I’m nothing short of frazzled.”

He leaned towards her and pressed a kiss against her temple. “Nonsense.” He adjusted his grip on Lily. “This picture will be perfect to hang in my office.”

It was hard to be mad at that. “Yes. Some women need a reminder that you’re married.”

“I don’t understand how they miss it—I talk about you all the time,” he told her with a grin. “Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.”

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Would you write something about Harry being forced by Ginny or the Weasleys to enter Harry Potter lookalike competition as a joke and he gets like the fourth position? I think it'd be funny and you're just the right author to do justice to this prompt. Love your writing ❣️

Endless apologies for how long this sat in my inbox. Have a lil ficlet for your trouble. <3

****

“You’ve got to go,” Ginny begged, her eyes alight with mischief. “You’ve got to.”

Harry stared at the poster they’d discovered hanging on the telephone pole on Charing Cross road incredulously. “This is a joke. It’s got to be a joke, right?”

“No, no, no, I’ve seen these!” Ginny squealed excitedly, pulling the poster down with something like glee. “There was one for Gilderoy Lockhart last weekend in Godric’s Hollow–”

“Bit tasteless, that,” Harry remarked dryly. “He’s still in St. Mungos, isn’t he?”

Ginny ignored him. “Look, it’s in the square outside Gringotts in ten minutes–”

“Gin–”

“Please,” Ginny begged. “It’ll be so funny. I know you hate attention but please, just this once, let’s use the fame card. And look,” she continued, waving the poster in her hand emphatically. “There’s a 15 Sickle prize–”

Harry snorted. “What’ll you buy with that? A pint?”

“We have to go, Harry!”

Harry looked at her, wondered if she knew that he couldn’t ever deny her something that’d make her happy, and whether such information could be trusted in her mischievous little hands. “Fine,” he agreed. “But if we get swarmed with photographers I swear I’m bringing back that toenail curse of Snape’s–”

“Yes!” Ginny squealed. “This’ll be a riot. Call Hermione, would you?”

Harry stared at her blankly. “What?”

“Hermione,” Ginny said, reaching up to re-fasten the poster to the pole with the push pin. “Tell her and Ron to meet us over there–”

“No,” Harry protested, panic rising. “I’m not gathering an audience for this–”

“Harry,” Ginny replied firmly, her grin far too broad. “Ron will kill us if he’s not there.”

“If you want them there so badly, you call them–”

“You know I can’t work out all those buttons–”

“I’ve programmed your phone to–”

“There isn’t time!” Ginny waved her hand dismissively. “Please?”

Harry was beginning to suspect she did know the power she wielded. 

“Fine.”

Read the rest on AO3.

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A Bed For Sleep

Written for @ginnystrophyhusband May microfics Prompt: Hesitate Word Count: 346 This fic is a continuation of Miles To Go Before I Sleep

Harry placed one foot on the stair before Ginny called his name.

He paused, pivoting to face her. The dying candlelight flickered across her freckled face, casting soft shadows. She stood near the fireplace, biting her lip hesitantly.

"Yeah, Ginny?"

He was beyond exhausted—having only just arrived at the Burrow that day, a week after the battle. He’d been staying at Andromeda Tonks’ house, caring for baby Teddy, juggling meetings with Kingsley at the Ministry, and trying to avoid sitting still long enough to feel anything at all. Now, finally back, he’d spent the day telling Ginny everything. And now he was ready to collapse.

“You might have trouble finding a bed tonight.”

“I was going to Ron’s room,” Harry said, shrugging. “Like usual, when the place is full.”

“Yes, but… um. Hermione’s in there with him. Mum hasn’t said anything, but—it’s a bit obvious.”

“Right.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, trying very hard not to picture what his two best friends might be doing in a shared bedroom. “No go, then.”

“Yeah. And George has locked himself in his and Fr—" she faltered, then went on, "Well. That room’s not exactly welcoming right now.”

“Of course not,” Harry said gently, ignoring the way she couldn’t quite say Fred’s name.

“Percy’s in his room, and he brought a girl. No one’s really asked who she is.”

“Okay…”

“And Bill and Fleur are in his old room.”

“It’s fine, Ginny. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Charlie’s on the couch.”

“Floor it is, then. Or the chicken coop. Honestly—I don’t mind.”

Ginny looked past him, up the staircase. “Well…”

“Yes?”

“You could sleep in my room,” she said quickly. “The bed’s not that big, but it’s better than a chicken coop.”

It was Harry's turn to sound hesitant, breathing in sharply. “Yeah?”

“Only because there’s nowhere else for you to go, obviously,” she added, “I’m an accommodating host.”

Harry smiled and reached out his hand. Ginny took it, threading her fingers through his in that familiar, easy way. Together, they climbed the stairs toward her room.