harry-potter-fics-stuff

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Anonymous asked:

Please write a piece where Blaise Zabini is paired with Luna Lovegood for an assignment with the Ministry.

“Honestly, it was a decision made because she thought it would be greatly comedic,” Blaise says, deflecting a myriad of colorful curses from an attacker. Who would have thought the odd creatures that Lovegood had always gone on about were real, endangered and embittered towards all wizardkind?

“That is what Minister Granger-Weasley would never tell anyone, though, because the results had surprised even herself.” Luna Lovegood was a spectacular fighter, who would have guessed? She always gave credit to her Nargles or Wrackspurts, but her graceful and quick reflexes always impressed Blaise. “She thought we’d end up killing each other within the first two days.”

He throws his head back and laughs as they manage to make it to safety, leaving behind a trail of destruction. The light shines through her hair and she is beautiful. “And here we are, six years in, both alive and relatively sane.”

She flips her hair and smirks over at him as she hands him his wand. “You’re just as sane as I am.”

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

@fugamalefica asked:

34. things you whispered in my ear, Bellamort

1.

“Bellatrix, listen carefully. You must be subtle and quiet and draw no attention. I know this is difficult for you at best, so I have prepared some potions to soften your voice and footsteps.”

2.

“My Lord, I wish you could love me. I wish you would let me stay with you, I wish you would let us listen to each other. I would follow you anywhere, but would you do the same?”

3.

“The young Pettigrew could be a possible recruit. He is quite close to your dear little cousin, but he isn’t as objectionable or stubborn as those he unfortunately surrounds himself with.”

4.

“I wrote you a million letters in my heart, there in that little cell in Azkaban. I broke my nails over and over clawing at the walls. No trace of me remains except when I’m with you, and I would not have it any other way.”

5.

“You, like our little Delphi, are mine. I would prefer that you remember that, Bellatrix. If you feel you cannot focus sufficiently, I can always find a better woman to fight by my side.”

6.

“I deserved worse. I deserved bruises and broken teeth, black eyes and bloody noses. I will never leave, I will never waver, I will serve until my dying breath.”

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Please write a piece where Blaise Zabini is paired with Luna Lovegood for an assignment with the Ministry.

sure!

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Drarry fic where Draco reacts to Hagrid carrying a dead Harry through the Battle of Hogwarts.

sure!

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34. things you whispered in my ear, Bellamort

sure!

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"Six times Luna's heart broke, and one time she was the heart-breaker"

1.

Her mother lies broken on the ground. There is still traces of spell residue clinging to her half-singed hair, her cracked dry skin. Her wand, which she had so treasured, burns to the touch.

Luna doesn’t find out until it’s far too late. She had sneaked out earlier on to play with the new neighbors, dancing in their gardens with wildflowers in her hair. This had been a habit her mother had failed to discourage. The only thing that had ever caused strife between herself and her husband.

Luna kneels and tenderly sweeps away her mother’s hair from her cold face. She does not cry, not yet anyway. There will be time for that when she doesn’t feel as broken as the body on the ground.

She never says any of this out loud.

2.

She doesn’t actually think she’s that loony.

She curbs her tongue anyway, because her father needs readers, because they need money, because she needs companionship that isn’t her father and her paint and traces of her mother clinging to every aspect of her house. It’s fine if she’s called names, at least it’s sort of out-of-earshot.

What small minds those around her have. What pathetic insistence on pointless codes of behavior, appearance, blood. (She is what would be called a pure-blood, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Not when she’s loony and no proper pure-blood will talk to her.)

She never says any of this out loud.

3.

Dead because of her.

She blinks back tears and cradles her little owl in the palm of her hand. She smiles the pale, washed-out smile that was as cold as any frown, and stares silently out at the moon.

She supposes she should have predicted. She’d quietly ignored the taunting that had seemed particularly fierce after the Slug Club, thinking it would be a brief fit of pique that would wane like the moon.

But the moon waxes. She had forgotten that. She puts away her wand, kneels to the ground, and buries her little owl with her bare hands in the patch of soil beneath the sunflowers.

Better that someone get some light, at least.

She never says any of this out loud.

4.

She stays single.

Sometimes, she wonders what it would be like to let herself sink into love. In a different world she would have been one of those girls who had this chance. She’s not ugly. She’s not even so stupid, and she can clean herself up well if she doesn’t have her clothes stolen so often.

She wanted to feel beautiful. Loved. Adored. Cherished. She didn’t think that was so unreasonable a desire. She didn’t think that discussing an odd creature or two should have completely destroyed her possibilities at knowing her peers.

She never says any of this out loud. Who would she have said it to?

5.

“As if you’d know the first thing about tragedy. Maybe if you got a scar or two you’d be less sanctimonious about my bad attitude,” Harry spits, standing up and storming away without so much as a glance back.

She knows about tragedy. Just because she keeps a smile on her face instead of screaming or crying at the drop of a hat doesn’t mean she has never felt unhappiness. She knows enough, at least, to never assume that she’s the only one who has ever suffered.

She never says any of this out loud. After all, aside from his temper, Harry’s been a perfectly lovely friend to her. Hasn’t he?

6.

“And you, little girl, are going to make sure Potter hands himself over and we can finally begin our noble work,” cackles the Death Eater, grabbing her with dirty, rough hands as they Disapparate with a loud crack.

She had never managed to cure her fondness of exploring, even with a war on the horizon. She had wanted an escape, a taste of freedom, a recreation of a nostalgic memory that should have stayed solely in the past. She hadn’t even gone that far this time around, she would still been able to run back to the house for her wand if she’d had any warning...

She never says any of this out loud: it’s useless to take her, especially after her father’s resistance broke down. She knows nothing and she hasn’t seen Harry in so long.

1.

“Neville, we both know this was never going to work beyond this summer. You cannot wait for me as I travel the world, and I cannot ground myself to one house for you forever. You might hate me for this. If you ever find it within your generous, loving, beautiful heart to forgive my wretched wanderlust, I pray that you name a flower after me.”

She does say this out loud.

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Anonymous asked:

Could you write a song-fic based off of Taylor Swift's "Call It What You Want" for the ship Harry x Ginny?

So he’s being called a liar again over something or the other. He doesn’t keep track anymore, the reason is always stupid and always wrong.

Harry honestly wouldn’t have cared so much if he didn’t fight in a war and literally die for a bunch of ungrateful sheep who will blindly obey whoever offers the prettiest, simplest picture to look at. It is a bitter pill to swallow, this constant back-and-forth with no respite.

Ginny, bless her soul, doesn’t put up with his surly moodiness for too long. She builds a fire in their little home and yells at him whenever he repeats his mistakes. They burn their bridges with some past allies and strengthen their bonds with their friends (who knew that making forts under covers led to so much laughing?).

Harry walks with his head down, sometimes, an old habit from the Dursleys whenever he wants to hide, but Ginny wears his initial around her neck throughout it all.

And, well, you can call it what you want to.

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

send me a pairing and one of these and i'll write a mini fic

things you said at 1 am

things you said through your teeth

things you said too quietly

things you said over the phone

things you didn’t say at all

things you said under the stars and in the grass

things you said while we were driving

things you said when you were crying

things you said when i was crying

things you said that made me feel like shit

things you said when you were drunk

things you said when you thought i was asleep

things you said at the kitchen table

things you said after you kissed me

things you said with too many miles between us

things you said with no space between us

things you said that i wish you hadnt

things you said when you were scared

things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

things you said when we were on top of the world

things you said after it was over

things you said [make your own]

inspired by this

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Anonymous asked:

I want an Andromeda & Bellatrix interaction with this. "I don’t want your crown. See, I’ve come to burn your kingdom down."

Andromeda supposes it was only a matter of time, really. She should be terrified, but all her emotions seem to have fled the moment her door swung open. Because the woman in front of her - Bella, never Madam Lestrange - was always her sister, even through burned tapestries and struck-through names.

Ted, her darling Ted, lies unconscious by the doorway. He’s not bleeding, but there’s mud smeared everywhere on his skin and his limbs are all bent the wrong way. (She isn’t that concerned - they’re magical, and she was always good at healing spells.) She doesn’t know where her daughter is, but Bellatrix is here alone and even she can’t split herself into two yet. She wonders why she isn’t scared. Should she be? This woman is still her blood. Family comes before all...usually...doesn’t it?

“What did you want?” She coughs up a mouthful of blood. Pure blood, but it’s red like anyone else’s. How stupid it is to try and purify what was never pure. “We have nothing to offer you. Unless you wanted crowns?” Named for the chained princess, Andromeda had grown up receiving lots of crowns as gifts. Some were more lavishly pretty than others, and she’d taken all of them with her when she eloped.

Bellatrix cackles. “I don’t want your crown, Andy.” She yanks Andromeda up by the hair. “See, I've come to burn your kingdom down.” She points her wand at her erstwhile sister, unblinking. “Incendio!”

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Anonymous asked:

Could you write about the first crushes of all the Weasleys?

Bill Weasley thinks he’s in love one day when he walks into his Transfiguration classroom and sees a gorgeous blonde girl sitting beside the chair he normally occupies. There’s a blue-and-bronze tie around her neck, tied in a perfect Windsor knot, and jewels drip from her ears and neck. She moves her stuff to her side of the desk when he sits down, and is careful not to touch him at all. He’d wonder about it, but she’s very quiet in class in general, though is always quick to finish her work. He smiles at her sometimes, but she doesn’t smile back. (He does not realize she is a Malfoy until two terms in, when he hears her friends whispering to her about blood traitors and how their taint can be associated upon upstanding citizens so easily. He doesn’t speak to her, although his heart still quickens a few beats around her in class, and she never gets the nerve to start any conversation with him either.)

-

Charlie Weasley doesn’t think he’s had a proper crush on anybody, but the new Professor (for DADA, of course) is probably the most attractive member of faculty Hogwarts has ever had and he can certainly appreciate this. He’s always more passionate about Care of Magical Creatures and Quidditch, yet he pays a lot more attention that year for DADA and ignores his friends’ playful teasing. (It’s his NEWT year anyway - he should be paying attention.) He stays behind in class to ask questions, sometimes over concepts he actually already knows. But there is no quickening of the heartbeat, no fantasies of kissing or holding hands or dancing in the rain. When the year passes, he graduates and the professor quits (because of course this one couldn’t stay), but the first dragon baby he finds is named after the professor that smiled at him in class.

-

Percy Weasley walks into the library one day for a book he desperately needs, and gets told the final copy has been taken by this girl named Penelope Clearwater. He sees her reading it and slides into the seat beside her, asking quietly if she would mind sharing this book with him, and realizes she is in his classes. He doesn’t think much of this encounter, but then she starts chatting to him in class and during their Prefect patrols the next year. That’s when he starts to crush on this pretty Ravenclaw girl who always seems to have interesting thoughts on anything and everything. He asks her out for a drink at Hogsmeade after they hide from Peeves together in an abandoned classroom, book in his hand, and she says yes.

-

Fred Weasley was not a fan of Gobstones (the putrid liquid that got sprayed whenever he lost a point being the main reason) but when he gets challenged by a Slytherin student he’s never met before, he takes up their offer instantly. They have a quick series of games, in which he both wins and loses in alternate turns, and by the end of the final game he’s laughing along to a joke about the staircases. (He’s never laughed with people from other houses before, it takes him too long to realize this.) He stares at the green-and-silver tie around their neck a little too often from then on, and stops playing pranks on Slytherin just for a few days, but never plays with them after that day. (He does, however, use his first bit of money from his shop to purchase his own Gobstones - and when they walk into the shop, he always makes sure to help them out.)

-

George Weasley has always, always appreciated Angelina Johnson. At first for her beauty and talent in Quidditch, and then for her ability to joke around and rough-house just as well as any of his siblings could. They fly around the pitch, and when they’re so high up he can appreciate the glow of her skin in the sunlight and the way her braids whip around in the wind. Once, he offered her a ribbon to tie her hair up, carefully not telling her that he’d spent four days learning how to conjure one just for this purpose, and she’d kissed his cheek before asking if he knew how to braid hair. (Of course he did, he had a sister and a mother who both regularly called upon the men in the family to help with hairstyles.) He dances with her at the Yule Ball, explaining that Fred had asked on his behalf as he was too afraid to, and she throws her head back and laughs that he’d never been scared of her as a Chaser when she actually had to throw Quaffles around. They kiss that night for the first time. He never kisses any other girl.

-

Ron Weasley doesn’t think the bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl on the Hogwarts Express is all that pretty, at first. She’s a motormouth with a weird name that regurgitates entirely too many syllables in a few seconds. She does kind of impress him with her knowledge about magic and his new friend (the Boy-Who-Lived, he reminds himself), but she really needs to learn how to hold actual conversations. And yet she has the prettiest brown eyes on anyone he’s ever met, he can admit, and she’d probably be nice to be friends with. He watches her leave, not knowing that he has a little smile on his face. (Friends. Ha. When he sweeps her off her feet seven years later, he still thinks she has the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen.)

-

Ginny Weasley curls up in bed, each breath seemingly ripped from her in long, shuddering gasps as tears stream down her face. Her memory is finally returned to her and she has never felt worse. She’s been told that nobody blames her for being possessed (by Voldemort, for Merlin’s sake), but she’s been the reason students were petrified and exams were cancelled. She was also the reason behind her brother rushing into the Chamber with Harry Potter...oh, Harry. The boy she’d dreamed of and written into that diary for so many days. (Please don’t let him be put into danger because of me. I didn’t know who I was talking to. I didn’t realize the diary was evil. Please let him be spared from my mistakes.) She wonders idly how he’d ever think of her as anything but a weak-minded child now. She’d scrubbed her hands raw trying to erase the blood and ink on her skin, and nothing’s worked. They wouldn’t be fit to hold his, not when she’d let the hands of his parents’ murderer slip beneath her skin and permeate her bones. But it would have been sweet, she thinks bitterly, if it could have been me. If it could have been her that had stood by him. Her that had been his friend. Her that hadn’t been tainted by Voldemort. If it could have been, really.

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Could you write a song-fic based off of Taylor Swift's "Call It What You Want" for the ship Harry x Ginny?

no problem anon!

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Title prompt: "Six times Luna's heart broke, and one time she was the heart-breaker"

no problem anon!

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

I want an Andromeda & Bellatrix interaction with this. "I don’t want your crown. See, I’ve come to burn your kingdom down."

no problem anon!

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Could you write about the first crushes of all the Weasleys?

no problem anon!

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Anonymous asked:

ooh femslash fics please. maybe some hcs on hogwarts girls in love, and how they survived during the umbridge era

Here’s the thing: we all know Dolores Umbridge is homophobic. She’s the type to be prejudiced and this is just one of the many beliefs she holds.

She genuinely does not think through the loophole of the decree declaring that boys and girls remain eight inches apart. When she sees same-sex couples floating around the hallways, she makes a decree declaring that nobody can be within eight inches of each other.

But Hogwarts is a school of magic and soon the female students band together in a show of solidarity against the most foul, horrid woman (whom they shudder to share the same gender with) who has ever walked its halls.

Parvati and Lavender are beautifully in-sync as always. When Trelawney is fired, they lie together in their bed (which bed? their two beds are basically one) and dream up future universes. They start planting tea leaves on Umbridge’s desk, shaped like all sorts of weapons and curse movements, and pour the tea itself on the floor. They break crystal balls and leave glass shards on her chair. They carve Trelawney’s initials into her cat pictures with their perfectly painted nails. Their love for the only teacher who has never mocked their overt femininity and interest for Divination turns out to be the thing that makes them realize their love for each other.

Luna and Ginny balance each other out. One is calm and serene, and the other feisty and fiery. Umbridge makes the mistake of insulting Xenophilius Lovegood in front of everyone in the class. Luna does not react, but later that evening she lets loose a series of creatures previously thought non-existent in Umbridge’s office (both at Hogwarts and the Ministry). Ginny steals all of Umbridge’s quills and replace them with ones that don’t cut into students’ skin, but mails the blood quills to the French ministry of magic (being the future sister-in-law to the Delacours has this one advantage).

Hermione and Pansy are unlikely allies. They bond together after Umbridge hurls insults at Pansy’s habit of mouthing off to everybody and makes comments about her mother. Pansy is enraged, but she is a Slytherin beyond her rage, and she decides to join the Squad when Umbridge offers. She meets up with Hermione in the library and asks for help in taking the pink-clad woman down. Hermione takes little time to realize that Pansy makes a very good spy. She can always be sure to avoid Umbridge and Malfoy and their cronies. It turns out, too, that Pansy is great at DADA when Umbridge is not here - and she helps Hermione annotate textbooks to distribute to other students. And if Pansy demands a kiss for her service? It’s the least Hermione can do, after all.

Marietta, in this timeline, is not recruited into any group. Cho knows that she wouldn’t join. Instead she is to give Cho information about the Ministry, so Cho can keep others safe and think of ways to counteract against the Ministry’s propaganda. She talks a lot about Cedric’s death, and though it hurts her, she knows it’s ultimately best that others know about the bravest and sweetest boy she’s ever had the honor to know.

Padma, Lisa Turpin and Sue Li hide behind their books as befits a Ravenclaw girl. The thing is, though, nobody really checks to see what they’re reading as long as the cover isn’t anything too suspicious. They sneak copies of the Quibbler while disguising it as Witch Weekly. They bring in books that Umbridge had banned and give it out to other students, making sure to have translation spells for those who read best in their mother tongue.

Hannah, Susan and Megan Jones benefit from the reputation of their house. Nobody suspects them of anything, since they’re the quiet ones at the back of the room who don’t do much. They’re the ones who secretly rearrange Umbridge’s belongings, shifting them slightly to the left or right. They also ensure to befriend Peeves, keeping him a vital ally.

Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, and the Greengrass sisters are the most terrifying quartet who have ever thrived together in Slytherin. The most close-knit group of female friends in the nineties. They all infiltrate the Inquisitorial Squad and take it down from the inside, causing chaos. Plus, with Death Eaters for close relatives, they know best how to cause pain discreetly.

Lily Moon and Sally-Anne Perks are the ones nobody see coming. They are the ones who bring everyone together. The soft-spoken peacemakers who grew up in households where women wielded power through appearances of docility. They’re the ones who attract Umbridge’s praise and take up her time. They’re the ones who calm any disagreements.

Romilda Vane and Leanne, who finally confessed their feelings for each other, are the ones who keep everything running. They distribute Skiving Snackboxes, Dungbombs and Fanged Frisbee’s. They write anonymous, threatening letters to Fudge and Umbridge. Romilda, the most talented potioneer of her year, brews all sorts of non-fatal but terribly inconvenient potions to be slipped into Umbridge’s food. Leanne, who has a criminal record in the Muggle world for stealing, nicks all of Umbridge’s Veritaserum and Spellotape and cat plates. She also plants a little artifact in Umbridge’s fireplace so that smoke blows at her face each time she attempts to contact anybody.

Angelina, Alicia and Katie (the queens of Gryffindor, the cutest ship and the third wheel/captain/may or may not be with them) run Quidditch practices for anyone who wants to hone their skills or pick up a new sport. They get brooms from Merlin-knows-where and make sure that everybody’s safe and that nobody gives anything away. And ultimately the trio are so nice that nobody really wants to anyway.

Minerva McGonagall, Aurora Sinistra, Pomona Sprout, Charity Burbage, Bathsheda Babbling, Septima Vector and Poppy Pomfrey (or as the students call them, the seven wonders of the castle) may or may not be working to help them as best they can. Poppy heals all the injuries, Charity instructs the girls who were raised by Muggles how best to blend into the wizarding world, Pomona gifts them plants and teaches them the coded language of flowers, Minerva transfigures the evidence of what goes on into innocuous things (and helps a lot herself), Septima and Aurora keep a lookout for Umbridge and those that sympathize with her, and Bathsheda is the one to teach runic codes to help students communicate.

Ultimately, Dolores Umbridge leaves. She never sees the girls working behind the scenes, whispering in darkness, writing coded notes, kissing and holding hands and loving each other and blossoming in adolescence. It’s only when she’s in Azkaban, reading articles from days-old newspapers, that she realizes just how much she has underestimated the majority of her former students.

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Anonymous asked:

Bellatrix-centric fic, with quotes from Azula from ATLA?

My mother thought I was a monster. What kind of mother thinks that? My mother, my very own mother, chose my sister over me. And not even the one that looks the most like her, no. She adored the traitor best.

Before the traitor left her blood for her Mudblood lover, my mother had showered her with kisses and hugs. My mother had even let herself have one final visit to the traitor at her wedding to a piece of filth. When my father and I righteously called her out on her behavior, she had demonstrated rage for the first and only time in my memory. Over the traitor. Over the traitor, but never for me, nor for my true sister.

She doesn’t matter. She thought her own daughter, whom she birthed and raised, was a monster. If that’s the case then I’m a monster she helped to create. After all, my father could not produce a child alone. I tried to prove her different, at first. I bested my sisters and cousins in everything. I am the true and proper heir to the Black family. The strongest of them all. I make the lives of everyone else (but especially the traitor) hell, because it’s fun. She calls me a monster and I smile. I’m proud because she’s proud. It’s the only expectation she had for me and I fulfilled it, ultimately.

I wonder about fairness, sometimes. The Mudbloods whine about unfair treatment when they do nothing to deserve it. They even try, foolishly to fight against the rules that have been embedded into wizarding society. If they didn’t like the rules they could always leave. Like the traitor did, when she decided her family wasn’t good enough for her. Like my mother did.

Like I won’t.

[harry-potter-fics-stuff]

Anonymous asked:

could you write about any hp lady you want during a pregnancy?

Merope clutched onto her protruding belly with bony hands. She knew she should be scavenging for more food, the baby would need it. But she could not find the energy to be bothered to do so.

The child was both hers and Tom’s. Despite the words he had spat at her face as he left her and took everything he had with him, he could not take this child away from her. It would be her most precious keepsake, the final remnant of her love for him.

An act of God. That’s what she had decided her pregnancy was. He had finally smiled upon her and done one act of kindness. He’d opened her womb and allowed her to conceive a child. She collapsed in the street as a bright light seemed to directly hit her eyes, temporarily blinding her. And yet she had a smile on her face, for the first time since Tom kicked her out of his house.

This was God telling her that her child was divine.

She sat in cold darkness, feeling brighter and warmer than she had in months.