#Bill and Fleur's cottage

[braveclementine]

Chapter 18

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"There we go." Trang murmured softly, sitting back from the radio that Severus had provided for us. Severus was sitting on the other side of the room at his desk, going over something for the school. Despite his headmastership being mostly just so a competent Death Eater was in charge, he still took his duties seriously. 

I sat next to Trang, Remus in my arms. I knew that today was the day that Harry, Hermione, and Ron would be taken to Malfoy Manner. I had it so that Trang and I would leave at the same time they were taken. After all, the Dark Lord would visit Severus later tonight, though Severus would not get the owl for another hour and a half. 

We were a little bit late to the show as Lee was saying, ". . . remains of Bathilda Bagshot have been discovered in Godric's Hollow. The evidence is that she died several months ago. The Order of the Phoenix informs us that her body showed unmistakable signs of injuries inflicted by Dark Magic." 

My last link to  my past was gone. The last person who knew me when I was young, knew me when I lived with Lily and James was dead. I had known it would be that way, but it still saddened me that I would never really know the truth of my living. 

"Listeners, I'd like to invite you now to join us in a minute's silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk, and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters." 

I didn't glance up at Severus when I did not hear his quill stop on the parchment. I knew that every death that occurred brought guilt to Severus, like he should've prevented it somehow. So I did not berate him for not giving his silence. He already carried more than any of us ever would. 

"Thank you. And now we turn to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding order is affecting the Muggle world." 

"Thanks River." I smiled as I heard Kingsley speak. I felt that reassurance, the way I did every time Kingsley spoke. Like he would set everything right in the world just by saying a few words. 

"Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties. However, we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbors, often without the Muggles' knowledge. I'd like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken." 

"And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be 'Wizards first'?" Lee asked. 

"I'd say that it's one short step from 'Wizards first' to 'Purebloods first' and then to 'Death Eaters' We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving." 

"Excellently put, Royal, and you've got my vote for Minister of Magic if ever we get out of this mess. And now, over to Romulus for our popular feature 'Pals of Potter'." 

"Thanks, River." I took the radio into my hands, hearing dads' voice. I felt this pain and happiness in my chest, knowing that he was alive. 

"Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter and Elizabeth Kane are still alive?" 

Just out of the corner of my eye, I saw Severus shudder just the slightest bit. 

"I do." Dad said fiercely. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that their deaths would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. 'The Boy who Lived' and 'The Girl who Sees' remain symbols of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting." 

I let out a half laugh, half sob sound. I felt Trang touch my shoulder gently with her hand. 

"And what would you say to Harry and Elizabeth if you knew they were listening, Romulus?" Lee asked. I supposed he must've thought the two of us were together. 

"I'd tell him we're all with him in spirit. I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right. And I'd tell her that I love her and I know she'll do what's right." 

I smiled, a tear sliding down my cheek, dripping onto the radio. 

"And our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee asked. 

"Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the most outspoken supporters of Harry Potter and Elizabeth Kane have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of The Quibbler. We have also heard within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid, well known gamekeeper at Hogwarts School, has narrowly escaped arrest within the grounds of Hogwarts, where he is rumored to have hosted a 'Support Harry Potter' party in his house. However, Hagrid was not taken into custody, and is, we believe, on the run." 

"A few hours ago?" Trang and I asked in sync, both of us looking over at Severus, who looked exasperated. 

"He was throwing a party for the enemy of the Dark Lord. Of course I had to do something. It's not like I tried that hard." Severus glared at me. 

". . . against following Hagrid's lead. 'Support Harry Potter' parties are unwise in the present climate." 

Indeed they are Romulus. So we suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to Potterwatch! And now let's move to news concerning the wizard who is proving just as elusive as Harry Potter. We like to refer to him as the Chief Death Eater, and here to give his views on some of the more insane rumors circulating about him, I'd like to introduce a new correspondent: Rodent." 

"Rodent?" 

I couldn't help but giggle at the disdain in Freds' voice at this nickname. "I'm not being 'Rodent', no way, I told you I wanted to be 'Rapier'!" 

"Oh, all right then. 'Rapier,' could you please give us your take on the various stories we've been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?" 

"Yes, River, I can. As our listeners well know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic. Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place." 

"Which suits him, of course. The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself." Kingsley responded. 

"Asshole." Trang commented offhandly. 

"Agreed. So, people, let's try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well. For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That's a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do." 

Trang and I burst out laughing and even Severus covered his mouth to hide his smile. 

"And the rumors that he keeps being sighted abroad?" Lee asked. His voice was stressed like he was holding back laughter himself. 

"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in? Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning on taking any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!" 

I had giggled at first, especially at the face Severus made at Freds' comment on shampoo. But when I heard Fred say that last line. . . it killed my joy, thinking of how safety wouldn't be enough where his life was concerned. 

"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier. Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be 'Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night." 

The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. I sighed, setting the radio down gently. I looked over at Severus who was holding Remus now, holding his son close. 

"We should go." I whispered softly, getting to my feet. Trang retrieved our traveling cloaks and I fastened mine around my neck. Trang shrunk our bags, putting them into her pocket. 

"Please stay safe Elizabeth." Severus whispered, letting Trang take our son into her arms while he embraced me tightly. "I don't like the idea of you being gone so long, especially being so close to giving birth." 

"I know." I whispered. "I don't like it either, but it has to happen Severus, trust me." 

"Implicitly." He whispered softly. He gently placed one kiss against my lips before I pulled away, leaving with Trang without looking back. 

Severus had guaranteed us a particular route of nothingness, which was exactly as we found it and we made it out of the castle with no problems. We had to skirt around Hogsmeade the long way in order to avoid the charms on the village, before apparating far away, landing on the seashore. 

There was nothing there, unlike in my visions, as Bill and Fleurs' cottage was hidden by the charm. 

"Are we in the right place?" Trang asked me quietly. The stillness was slightly alarming, until there was a violent cracking sound. I saw Harry, Hermione, Ron, Dobby, and a smaller creature I knew had to be Griphook appear out of nothing. 

"Stay here." I commanded of Trang, heart beating in my chest. It was time to see. . . to see if I had saved Dobby, or if there was no hope left for my family. 

Harry was bent over Griphook while Dobby stood to the side. From this position, I could not see his front. My feet pounded against the sand and I felt slow, especially in my pregnant state, straining to gain traction. 

"Harry!" I called out. 

"DOBBY!" Harry shouted as he looked up. "Dobby- no- HELP!" Harry bellowed. "HELP!" 

My heart sunk, even as I slid to my knees in the grainy dust as Harry caught him in his arms. The silver knife hilt protruded from the small elfs' stomach, even as a red stain spread across the front of his bare chest. 

He hadn't worn the knife-proof sweater I had knitted him for Christmas. He hadn't worn it. I wondered where it even was. 

"Dobby, no, don't die, don't die. Elizabeth do something, you have to do something." Harry begged me, rocking the dying elf in his arms. 

"Harry. . . Potter. . ." 

Dobby died in Harry's arms, even as my brother begged him not to, begged for me to help him. All I could do was hug Harry from the side, a tear slipping down my cheek, dropping onto the dry ground. 

Not only was Dobby dead, but the rest of my family was doomed. 

⬅️➡️

[rtlstuff]

JKR Writing Fleur Delacour: So this french bird is super sexy but she's also incredibly shallow and vain and snooty, y'know how the French are. She's high fem which is a bad thing, tomboys are the best. She's also just incredibly annoying and full of herself. Constantly making herself the centre of attention even though nobody likes her and they call her phlegm behind her back. Hilarious, right?

90% of Fanfics when Writing Fleur Delacour: At first she comes off as entitled & full of herself, but as time goes on it's clear she's actually incredibly kind, compassionate and loyal. She also has a keen sense of matters of the heart. For the younger characters she takes on the role of a wise older sister. She's loyal and nurturing and and will always be there if you need someone to talk to. She is from a noble matriarchal race of fierce warriors and will fight tooth and nail to defend what is hers.

[enigmaticemperor]

#21 You stole my heart but I’ll let you keep it

I've always been a sucker for Hinny writing letters during the war, just never to send them.

Written for @hinnyfest

Dear Gin, 

I don’t know how to start this, and I know I don’t have the right, but I wish you were here. We have figured out the last piece of the puzzle, which is the mission Dumbledore left us, and it will all come to an end very soon. And I don’t believe it will end favourably for me, whatever the outcome.

I want you to know the days we spent together were some of the best of my life. It was like living someone else’s life. And I don’t mean just the blissful days after the Quidditch final. You talked to me about Sirius and helped me grieve the summer after the fifth. We would just sit together under our tree and talk about the Quidditch season, our quidditch games and everything else. I don’t remember a time when I laughed more than when you did that impression of Snape. And Trelawney. And Umbridge.

I remember brushing the hair out of my eyes and being awestruck at how your hair would shine a fiery red, orange, brown and gold all at the same in the sunlight. How your beautiful chocolate brown eyes would twinkle in mirth, and the corners of your lips would turn up ever so slightly. How your laugh would sound like nectar to my ears. 

I even remember how you kicked some sense into me when I was brooding and how you helped me talk to Sirius under Umbridge’s nose. I should’ve known it right there when you handed me that Easter egg. We could’ve had much more time together. Months, years, maybe. What I’m trying to say is that you stole my heart, Gin, but I’ll let you keep it.

 I hope you’ll find happiness and someone who treats you the way you deserve.

Yours, 

Harry.

PS: I’m so proud of you for trying to steal the Gryffindor’s sword and restarting the DA, but I really hope you wouldn’t put yourself in danger like that.

Harry smoothed his hand over the letter, reading it one more time, hoping that Ginny was alright at Muriel’s. He placed it in his mokeskin purse, safe in the knowledge that it would never reach her.

[stabbyapologist]

"You are a very unusual wizard."

[emmie-tt]

Can you write a harry potter x reader where the reader is harry gf and she got kidnapped into the malfoy Manor (in dh) and when Harry, Ron and hermione got captured there too, he finds her and he take her back to fleur and Bill cottage and he takes care of her because she got injured really bad while being there? <3 (also her having a lot of scars/marks and being insecure about them but harry will kiss them all and tell her they are perfect) and one night when she finally Trys to leave the bed (because her legs are really shaky) they go out and stay in front of the sea and they talk about their future? Sorry this is long hope you can make it <3

My Protector

Harry Potter x Reader

CW: Angst (Kinda) , Mental Problems, Mentions of blood and wounds, Mentions of Scars, Female Reader

How did you get here...As you lay on the cold hard ground of the Malfoy Manor your whole life flashes in front of your eyes. You had always been the quiet kid. Never causing drama. Never getting involved in drama. Never acting out. Hardly ever going to parties unless Harry had went with you.

Speaking of. Harry had been frantically searching for you, the moment he realized you were missing it felt like hi whole world stopped.

You didn't know that though. Not yet at least.

The lightheaded feeling began a few minutes ago. Whether it was from blood loss or dehydration was also unknown. You did know that it had been three days since you've had water and you also knew that gash in your forehead had been left unattended for quite a few hours so whichever was causing the lightheaded feeling was anyone's guess.

You heard a gasp from Luna Lovegood who was also being held captive but instead of reacting you ignored it choosing to focus on not passing out and praying to Godricks that someone helped and got you out of here...

The feeling of someones hands on your face brought you out of your haze and suddenly a fuzzy yet familiar voice was cutting through the silence

"Y/n...Y/n can you hear me?"

As your vision comes into focus your eyes widen as you realize who was knelt next to you.

"Harry..." you mumble as you weakly reach up and cup his face

He smiles weakly back, seeing you in so much pain and honestly so close to death...

"Hi sweetheart...I'm gonna get you out of here okay? Get you some help, alright?"

you nod slight and he slides one arm under your knees and the other under your upper torso. Picking you up bridal style he quickly makes his way out the things he noticed about the woman he loved more than anything was how much weight you had loss, the blood dripping down his arm from your forehead and that dazed almost lifeless look in your eyes.

He picks up the pace in his steps and as soon as the coast was clear he held you closer and floo you both off to the cottage.

------ At The Cottage ------

Harry quickly sat you down on the couch, the dizziness had took over and you had loss consciousness a few minutes prior. Molly gasps as she rushes over and helps Harry lay you on the couch.

She asses the wound on your head before quickly jumping into action and cleaning then stitching the rather deep wound

Harry stood at the end of the couch the whole time. His eyes never once leaving you as he watched Molly clean the wound and stitch you up.

He felt completely guilty for this whole thing, he had promised from the day he met you to protect you. You were nothing more than a ray of sunshine in his extremely dark life, the reason he lived was you and seeing you lay on the couch unconscious and injured absolutely broke him. He could not loose anyone else.

After Molly was finished she stepped back and walked over to Harry wrapping her arms around him in a tight motherly hug.

"She will be alright..." she mumbles softly into his hair as he begins to sob.

------ A Little While Later ------

Harry had fallen asleep sat on the floor next to the couch where you had been laid. His head rested uncomfortably on the edge as his hand gripped onto yours tightly. His whole body reacts when he feels you hand twitch slightly. His hands snap open and he quickly looks up at you right when your eyes slowly flutter open.

"Y-Y/n? Sweetheart, are you awake?" You groan softly as you reach up and feel at the now bandaged wound. Harry gently grabs your hand and pulls it back down, planting a soft kiss on your palm as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey...You're alright love...I'm right here..." He whisper softly as tears flood your eyes

"Harry..."

He stares at you sympathetically for a moment before, gently as possible, lifting you into his arms and holding you close to his chest. His hands rubbing up and down your back slowly as you sob into his shoulder where your head is resting.

He feels his own tears rise but he chokes them down to comfort you, something he knew you needed.

After a long few minutes you calm down and slowly sit up, ignoring the pounding that happens in your head at the movement. You hands wrap tightly around him and you stare down at him silently as he stares back before gently kissing your forehead leading you to let out a sigh and lay your head back down on his shoulder.

Harry noticed the shift in your personality. The silence that used to be replaced with constant chatter about things only Hermione could truly understand. The fear in your eyes that used to be full of light and shine. He noticed it all and it killed him...

"My love...Lets get you some food alright? And maybe some orange juice?"

He waits for your reply and when you nod he immediately stands with you in his arms and makes his way into the kitchen where he goes to place you in a chair only to be stopped when you tighten your grip and mutter out a soft "No..."

He stops in his tracks and stands back up with you in his arms, glancing down at your face

"No what love? You don't want me to put you down?" When you nod, confirming his question he sighs softly but obeys your wish and walks over to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of orange juice that he pours into a cup and hands to you. As you sip at the juice he quickly makes a sandwich before taking a seat at the dining table and slowly feeds you the sandwich.

When you finish it a few minutes later he lets you finish the orange juice before standing and placing the dishes in the sink, letting the magic do its thing and clean the dishes, Harry makes his way down a hall and into the room Bill had given him to stay in.

He gently lays you down in the bed causing you to let out a soft whimper, he gently kisses your forehead

"Shh sweetheart, i'm right here...Let me get you some clean clothes okay?"

You hesitantly nod and he rushes off into the closet where he grabs an old shirt of his and a random pair of boxers before quickly making his way back to you where he finds you crying.

The guilt in his gut only grows and he walks over gently rubbing your back, you climb into his lap and he instantly lets you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking you gently as you sob.

Once you calm down he coaxes you off of him for just long enough to get you bathed and changed into the outfit before helping you into bed where he climbs in after you, letting you lay on top of him- rather uncomfortably, before holding you close as you fall asleep a few moments later.

And that is how most days go...

A few weeks passed and your physical condition had improved, the gash had almost completely healed, leaving a scar. All the bruises had faded and the small cuts had healed leaving their own small scars across your body.

Your mental health was another thing...While it hadn't worsened it really hadn't improved either...Harry could finally leave you alone but not for to long, you refused to leave the bed and talking still came very rarely for you.

Harry had left the room a few moment ago, to do something...He had said but truly you hadn't been listening.

Looking around the room your eyes land on the mirror hung on the wall, more specifically the reflection in the mirror. As you stared down your own reflection, seeing the large scar across your forehead caused disgust to rush over you in waves.

You slowly sit up in the bed letting the blanket fall to your waist, being in only your bra, all of the small scars that now littered your body were on full display. Your hands slowly ran over each of them, picking and pulling at them almost as if you were trying to get them off of you.

You were so lost in your own world that you didn't notice harry stepping into the room until you saw him in the mirror causing you to jump.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" He asks softly as he climbs onto the bed and wraps his arms around your waist after gently grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your skin

"N-Nothing..."

He clearly didn't believe you but instead of saying anything he gently pushed you back onto the bed and yanked the blanket off of you completely causing you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "H-Harry! What are you doing?!"

He shrugs slightly as he leans down and kisses your forehead, right on the scar. "So pretty..."

Your whole body heats up as he leans down to your stomach area and presses soft kisses to each scar he could see as he mumbles praises.

"Beautiful..."

"Gorgeous..."

"Pretty..."

Any praise he could think of was flying out of his lips as he worshiped you, your face was the so ho from being so flustered that you couldn't stand it. This was exactly what you needed...That disgusted feeling melted away with every kiss and praise he gave you.

After a moment he looks back up at you, his glasses sat on the tip of his nose almost falling off. You giggle softly pushing his glasses back up his face, a smile appearing on your face for the first time in weeks.

Harry grins and moves up peppering kisses all over your face causing the small giggles to grow even more as you gently push him away

"My sweet girl" He says softly "Wanna take a walk with me? You seem in a good mood..."

You think for a long moment about the offer before ultimately nodding and slowly pulling yourself from the bed and into a standing position.

Harry smiles quickly following you out of the bed and helping you put your shoes on before putting his own on and leading you out of the cottage, the sun hitting your skin for the first time in weeks was an amazing feeling. You soaked it in for a moment before walking down the beach towards the water where you stop at the shore line letting the water wash over your sandal covered feet.

Harry slowly approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazes down on your face as you gaze out at the water

"What are you thinking about honey?"

You stay silent for a moment before leaning back against him "Our future..."

"Oh yeah? What about it?"

"I don't know...Just how- how everything is gonna end...With the war, the death eaters...he who should not be names..."

He sighs softly and kisses your cheek, before being taken you had no problem calling him Voldemort but now you were terrified..

"Nothing will happen to you again...Me, Ron and Hermione have a plane okay? Please don't worry about it..."

With a small nod you turn around in his arms and snuggle your face against his chest "How many kids do you want..?"

He looks down slightly shocked at your question before thinking for a moment "Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me...As long as I have you that's all that matters...What about you baby? How many?"

"Three...Two boys and a girl..."

He chuckles, your answer was instant with absolutely not hesitation behind it. "I'll do my best to help fulfill that dream my love..."

You giggle and slowly close your eyes as you rest against him. It finally felt like you could see a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He had been everything you needed to get through such a rough time. Your love. Your support but most importantly your protector.

THE END

Oh. My. Goodness. I think this is my best work yet, I hope this is up to your expectations love!! And I am so so sorry it took so long to get this out there!!

[harryjpxtter]

Title: Rescued by Love 🤍

Pairing : Harry Potter x f!reader

Type of story : injured reader, slight angst, pure fluff

~

You were Harry Potter's girlfriend, and being with him made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. However, that all changed when you were kidnapped by the Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor.

You were held captive there for days, and during that time, you were tortured and interrogated by the Malfoys. You were grateful when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came to rescue you, but you were also in bad shape. You had cuts, bruises, and burns all over your body, and you could barely walk.

Harry carried you out of the Manor and took you to Fleur and Bill's cottage, where he helped you recover. He was by your side every step of the way, holding your hand and whispering words of comfort.

As you started to heal, you began to feel self-conscious about the scars and marks that covered your body. You didn't want Harry to see them, but he noticed them anyway. One night, as you lay in bed together, he kissed each scar and told you that they were perfect.

"You are perfect," he whispered, looking into your eyes. "And I love every part of you."

Tears filled your eyes as you hugged him tightly. You knew that Harry loved you, but hearing him say it out loud made all the difference.

Days turned into weeks, and as you regained your strength, you longed to go outside and feel the sun on your face. However, your legs were still shaky, and you were afraid to fall. Harry sensed your restlessness and suggested that you take a walk with him.

You made your way to the beach, and as you sat on the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore, Harry wrapped his arms around you.

"Have you ever thought about our future?" he asked, his voice soft.

You looked up at him and smiled. "Of course, I have. I want to be with you forever."

Harry grinned. "That's what I want too. I want to marry you, have a family with you, grow old with you."

You felt your heart swell with love as he spoke. "I want all those things too."

"Then let's make it happen," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You leaned into him, feeling safe and loved. You knew that you had been through a lot, but with Harry by your side, you could face anything.

The two of you stayed on the beach, talking about your dreams and hopes for the future, until the sun began to set. As you made your way back to the cottage, you knew that you had found your soulmate in him, and nothing could ever tear you apart.

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Honeymoon time 💕

Your wedding to George was a jubilant celebration with your family and friends, a chance to bask in the love you were so thankful to receive from everyone around you. You'd honoured Fred in many ways that day, including photos of him, an empty chair with his name on and many other little ways to make it seem like he was there. You'd noticed George had worn his chain under his suit shirt and the sight of it made butterflies flutter inside you.

It was a small and quaint wedding that had admittedly been rushed in planning, only two weeks after you'd announced your engagement, but it was perfect. No one had doubted your intentions and the day had gone completely to plan, except for the regular hiccups that seem to occur when a group of people are brought together. Muriel had been characteristically foul as usual and had clashed with your great aunt Ariadne though she'd avoided the more triggering topics which was one consolation.

You danced with your friends and your now blended family late into the night, with George eventually stealing you back from dancing with Bill for one final dance.

"Have you had a good day Mrs Weasley?" He asks, holding you close as you sway with surprising grace even with the healthy amount of alcohol you'd both consumed.

"The best, Mr Weasley," you beam up at him, his handsomeness once again hitting you as you look upon his smiling face.

"Couldn't have asked for better. I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful."

The night you'd spent together had not been repeated since, nor had you really spoken about it. There was a lingering tension between you, growing increasingly stronger throughout the day as you thought of your wedding night and honeymoon, the anticipation almost consuming you.

Ginny and Fleur had whisked you away from George not long after your final dance to get you ready to leave for your honeymoon, which you'd be departing for very soon. It was tradition in the Weasley family to immediately begin your honeymoon the night of the wedding and you had readily accepted the chance to exit out of the wedding a little earlier into the night, giving you and George some time alone.

You'd chosen to honeymoon in the U.K. to keep costs down, after all this whole situation was based upon George reclaiming the shop as sole owner and any unnecessary spending would only increase the amount of time you'd be married. Bill and Fleur had graciously offered for you to stay in Shell Cottage with them but George had instead chosen to surprise you with your destination. He'd tactfully evaded every single one of your questions, relishing in his power of knowledge but had thankfully given you a few clues as to what you should pack. Clothes for all weather, from hot to bitter cold, a couple of 'nice' outfits and a bathing suit. So, nothing to really go off.

Percy had arranged a ministry car for you to borrow for the week, his gift for you both and you'd decided to travel like muggles for the week, taking your time and only using magic when necessary. George was driving to your destination, the luggage and travel necessities having been packed up earlier that day by the Weasley boys and Harry.

The crowd cheered as you both walked towards the car that was waiting for you, your family and friends gathered around with jubilant faces as you walked hand in hand towards the car. You both paused to thank and embrace Mr and Mrs Weasley before climbing into the car, George opening the door for you before getting in on his side. You waved at the gathering of people in front of you as George pulled away and as you pulled away from the Burrow, you peered through the back window, squirming around the freshly painted 'just married' sign to see your loved ones fading further away as they carried on the party.

"Are you okay?" George asks gently as he drives out of Ottery St Catchpole, the rolling Devonshire fields passing you by as the sun begins to set.

"I'm... incredible, I don't think there are words for how I'm feeling," you say with a wide smile, giggling a little at your inability to get your words out. He chuckles and reaches for your hand, pulling it onto the gear stick to join his.

"I know what you mean, I feel like I'm floating," he says, flashing you a smile before turning his attention back to the road. You take the opportunity of his attention being elsewhere to really look at him,  the plains of his face looking unbelievably handsome to you. He looked stunning in his suit, the colour and cut of the material only serving as a compliment to his gorgeous red hair and sharp features.

"Checking me out Mrs Weasley?" He says with a smirk, eyes still fixed on the road. You fight to hide the creeping blush that appears on your cheeks, realising that he'd caught you staring. You bite your lip and turn away, choosing to look out of the window at the rolling hills instead. "You can you know, I'm yours now."

You turn to look at him and the smile he has plastered on his face fills you with warmth and nervous excitement.

"You look so handsome, I feel like I can't take my eyes off you," you admit, a little bashfully.

He gives a deep chuckle and squeezes your hand that is still held by his own.

"You have no idea how hard it is to drive right now, all I want to do is stare at you," he admits, though he sounds completely unashamed of his words. You blush and look away again, this time out of pure bliss, wanting to remember everything about this moment.

"Get some sleep Angel, it's quite a drive," he says softly a few minutes later, turning down the radio that was playing music in the background.

"I'm okay," you lightly protest, despite feeling relaxed by the drive. "I wish I'd taken this dress off though, not the best travelling outfit."

"And take that joy away from me? How dare you," he jokes, sounding a little outraged. Your stomach instantly fills with nerves and butterflies at his words; he intended to take your dress off.

You fell asleep a short while later, just as the last slither of sunlight had disappeared into the horizon, the long stretch of road ahead now only lit by car lights and the faint cats eyes on the ground. The mixture of the low humming from the radio, the gentle rocking of the car and the presence of George was enough to lull you into a much needed sleep as you cuddled into a pillow you'd thought to pack, wishing that you were wearing something much less restrictive but that couldn't be helped.

When you woke again, it was still pitch black and George was still driving, the car lights ahead of you the only clue to where you were.

"Hi Angel," George says, noticing you staring as he briefly looks over at you with a smile.

"Mmm, hi Georgie," you mumble back, still fighting off the last embers of sleep. "Where are we?"

"Nice try," he says, not falling at the last hurdle and you give a little huff, hoping that one would have worked. "About an hour away."

"Is there time to stop for a coffee somewhere?" You ask, sitting straighten in your seat as you abandon the pillow into your lap.

"I don't know anywhere that would be open," he says, flicking his eyes to the dashboard clock, prompting you to do so and realising that it was now past midnight, much to your surprise.

"McDonald's will be," you say with a little shrug, trying to see any hints from signposts as to where you were of where the next services would be.

"McDonald's?" He asks, completely oblivious and you can't help but laugh, never having thought about how the notion of 24 hour fast food had not yet entered the wizarding world, making George completely oblivious.

"It's a 24 hour restaurant, usually around road services, it's fast food," you explain. He immediately gets it and let's out a little 'ahhh' of understanding, telling you that there was a services coming up and you could check if there was one there. There was.

Introducing George Weasley to drive-through ordering was nothing short of hilarious and you'd briefly lamented the fact that his first McDonald's experience wouldn't be inside an actual McDonald's building but you were not about to enter a fast food joint at a service station in a wedding dress. You'd both ordered a coffee, yourself a medium coke and then you had excitedly introduced him to not only a Big Mac but also chicken nuggets, both of which were a complete revelation to him and you had to hold back serious giggles at his reactions. Half an hour later and you were on your way, coffees in hand and belly's a little fuller as you prepared for the last part of your journey.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over? I don't mind driving to give you a break," you offered as you watch him put on his seatbelt.

"You don't know where we're going," he says with a devilish smirk but you feign innocence.

"Then just tell me and I'll get us there," you say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Nice try baby," he says with an even more sinister smirk, his eyes roaming your face briefly before he turns on the car and begins to pull away after one last sip of coffee.

You were transfixed as George turned right up a long winding path entirely shielded by trees, the long road leading you deeper under the canopy of trees until you were completely surrounded by woodland. You could make out a small, warm light at the end of the long road and became transfixed on the approaching light, trying to focus your eyes hard on that point, trying to make sense of it. The car swerved a little to avoid a large twig in the road which brought your destination into clear view.

You gasped at the beauty of the scene in front of you, looking excitedly at George who looked more than pleased at your reaction.

"George," you say breathlessly as he parks up in the little clearing beside the place you'd be staying.

It was a rustic log cabin, completely shielded away from everything by a large canopy of trees, a beautiful escape completely hidden away from the outside world. The cabin was almost entirely made of wood with wooden shutters and a wrap around deck.

"George it's beautiful," you say, completely gobsmacked as you look at the gorgeous lodge in front of you, seeing it illuminated by the multiple lanterns that offered a stark contrast against the pitch black night.

"Only the best for my bride," he teases, opening up his car door, prompting you to do the same.

"Want to explore whilst I unload the car?" He asks with a grin, holding the keys to the cabin out in front of you, the little wooden keyring clinking against the two old fashioned keys. You nod enthusiastically and reach out to grab them, pulling George in and without much thought, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. Instantly, you realised what you'd done and took a step back, blushing a little as you avoided his gaze. His hand had instinctively wrapped around your back and he gave your back a little rub as you parted, showing no ill will as you turned and walked excitedly towards the cabin.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with an illuminated room thanks to the warm lighting from multiple lamps and light fixtures. The cabin was warm, as if there was a log fire already burning and the smell was heavenly, clean and fresh but with an indisputable scent of wood and pine, a natural consequence of it's idyllic surroundings. You walked through a little entrance hall that houses a utility room before stepping into an open living room, dining room and kitchen, all of which were warm and inviting with natural wood features throughout and neutral colours, highlighting the windows which you knew would almost certainly have beautiful views in the morning. There were two brown leather sofas that looked absolutely lush and a single armchair underneath a window that looked perfect for reading, a tall lamp beside it and a little table for drinks. There was a television and a cabinet in the corner and beside that was a beautiful log burner that was indeed lit, radiating heat throughout the home. You couldn't see much through the side door that was half glass but the outside light did illuminate the decking a little, highlighting a rather impressive sunken hot tub that was covered, eliciting a little excited squeal from you.

You walked down a small corridor that led off from the main atrium through a beautifully carved wooden door with an old metal latch which led you to the bathroom on the left and two bedrooms. You crept into the bathroom to take a peak and saw a big bathtub to the left and a built in shower to the right, as if every need was catered for. One bedroom has two single beds partitioned with a beautiful shelving unit and the other bedroom was almost certainly the master.

There was a huge four poster bed against the back wall bookended by two beside tables with lamps that looked entirely too inviting. The bedding was sheer white and completely crease free, only adding to its appeal. There was a smaller television in here too, along with a dressing table and a large, ornate wardrobe that looked older than the cabin itself.

"What do you think Mrs Weasley?" George asks from behind you as you pause to run your hand over the ornately carved bed frame. You turn to see him leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, still wearing his wedding suit but now with his tie removed and a few buttons open near his collar.

"I think it's absolutely beautiful Mr Weasley," you reply, turning to him with a look of pure elation.

"Just like my wife then," he says with a look in his eyes that makes your pulse race. He steps towards you with clear conviction and it's all you can do not to melt into a puddle, the look in his eye so dangerously arousing that you're almost frozen to the spot. It was the first time he'd called you his wife and the reaction that it pulled from your body was almost unbelievable, the sound of it almost heavenly in your mind.

As soon as he reaches you, there's a brief pause as if he's searching your face for any hint of resistance, not that he'd find any. When he sees the look in your eye, knowing that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, he steps even closer and wraps his hand around the back of your neck before leaning down and kissing you with a burning passion.

Your hands slip up to his chest, feeling the material of his lapels under your fingers and pull slightly, needing to feel him as close to you as possible as you pull his jacket off. His fingers tangle in your hair as the kiss deepens, tongues working together to fuel the burning desire between you both.

With his right hand cradling your head and his left clutching as your waist, he begins leading you to the side of the bed, silently asking if it was okay to go further.

"Make love to me George," you say against his lips, hardly wanting to pull away for even a second. You hear him groan against your lips before his hand slips from your hair and down to your butt, cradling you and taking your weight. In a move that would otherwise impress you if you'd seen it in person, he sweeps you off your feet whilst climbing onto the bed and lays you down softly before climbing over you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

"I've waited all day to rip this dress off of you," he mumbles against your skin as he begins kissing down your neck, onto your bare shoulders where your dress straps began, the soft layers of the gown suddenly feeling much too restrictive as your skin burnt up with desire. He kisses down your chest as your hands tangle in his slightly grown out hair. There's a single moment where your eyes meet, just as he hovers over your panting cleavage and it takes your breath away how absolutely sexy he looks, the desire and admiration in his eyes mirroring your own. His long fingers drag against your rib cage as they dance over to your covered breasts before he reaches in to pull down the cup of dress, exposing your right breast to him, your dusky pink nipple already hard and waiting for him. He groans, watching your breast spring free and immediately bends down to run his tongue over the pebbled nipple, eliciting a deep, breathy moan from you before his lips wrap about the little bud and begin sucking. You moan out again, throwing your head back into the pillows at the overwhelming sensation and suddenly you feel the whole atmosphere change. There's no trepidation anymore, no resistance or questioning but rather just a primal urge between both of you.

You can tell that George is feeling for the opening your dress so you divert his fingers to the small, concealed zipper on the side and help him drag it down, much too slowly for your liking. He pulls away the dress after you slip your arms out and you watch carefully as his mouth slips open to a little 'o' shape as he pulls the dress from your body, exposing you completely to his gaze. You couldn't wear a bra with your dress thanks to the unique straps but you had thought you buy a tiny white lace thong that you'd had embroidered with a little 'W' on the left side of the crotch, knowing it would either make him laugh or make him growl. Luckily for you, it was most certainly the latter as he groaned as he spotted it, momentarily fixated on your naked breasts that were exposed completely for his view, his eyes travelling down your body with acute precision before he eventually noticed your little customisation. He groans and leans down to press a kiss directly to where the 'W' was situated, just above your mound and you can't help but squirm as the sensation of having him so close to where you needed him. He notices, of course he does, and his eyes flick up to yours with a look of pure mischief as he begins kissing the inside of your thigh and across your bikini line, teasing you. You groan and can't help but roll your hips as he flutters kisses everywhere apart from where you need them.

"My beautiful wife needs something?" He teases, acting completely oblivious when you knew he was very aware.

"Please George," you beg, "need you."

Like a switch had been flicked in George's mind, his long fingers begin tracing your pussy through the very thin and nearly transparent lace, groaning once again when he feels the wetness seeping through the lace. You feel his fingers hook into the side of your thong, catching your labia with a little stroke before he pulls them away from your burning pussy, exposing you completely to his view. He wastes no time and leans down, licking a long stripe across your pussy, catching your swollen clit with the til of his tongue in the most perfect way that has you gasping and moaning.

"Fuck you taste good, so sweet," he whines into your pussy, resting his forehead against your mound for a moment before he slips down again, this time licking you with vigour. "So wet baby."

His tongue is everywhere, delicately stroking and teasing whilst also hitting every spot you need him in perfectly. It's a perfect juxtaposition between his igniting a fire inside of you, making you burn with desire and pure torment whilst also extinguishing the flames with his tongue. As soon as his finger traces your inner lips as it moves down, gently pressing into your waiting hole before he slips one of his long, deft fingers inside of you, you're gone. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, hips rising of their own accord as you grope your breasts, completely consumed by your pleasure. He slips a second finger into you as you cry out, fucking yourself on his fingers as he circles your clit with his tongue, putting pressure on the left side just as he's discovered drives you crazy.

"George, George!" You chant as you feel the beginning of your orgasm rising in you very quickly, consuming you and burning you from the inside out. Your pussy is drenched and you can feel more arousal gushing from you as your climax crests, George's own moans ringing out in your mind as he pushes you over the edge. It's like you're falling, the crescendo of light and burning arousal overtaking your whole body and mind, the only capable thought in your mind is of George. He licks you slowly as you come down, careful to avoid your sensitive clit as he laps up your cum, fingers still slowly fucking you bath and forth with gentle strokes, extending your pleasure.

You gasp to catch your breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as your heart pounds, the effects of your orgasm still lingering as you feel a tingle across your whole body. It takes all of ten seconds for you to focus your attention back to George who has pulled his fingers out of you and began kissing your inner thigh again, soothing you as you return to him.

You sit up and reach for him, pulling him on top of you as you kiss him feverishly, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. He notices and groans deeply against your lips, almost growling as you lick at his lips, desperate for a taste. You claw at his shirt, desperate to even out your nudity and feel his skin against yours and as if he can sense the sheer desperation, reaches down and completely rips the front of his shirt, the flying and falling buttons only an afterthought as you fight to get the shredded shirt away from his body. Your hands slip to his smooth shoulders and down his back as you kiss him desperately, pulling his tongue into your mouth so you can suck on it, relishing in his deep groans and little whines. Your hands rest on his collarbones as you slowly pull away from him, pushing him slightly until he realises was you want. You overpower him with just enough force that he rolls onto his back as you immediately latch to his chest, kissing and biting as you make your way down to your destination.

His suit trousers are completely tented, the sheer size an excitement of him almost intimidating to you as you fight to open the fastenings of his trousers. You don't wait even a moment after they are open to slide them down his hips, along with his black boxer briefs until he was completely bare, except from his sentimental chain and your wedding rings. You crawl back up the bed after throwing aside his bottoms and flick your eyes up to see his own desperate look as you come face to face with his rather impressive member. His lips are parted and he looks completely desperate as he watches you carefully, silently pleading for you to take his aching length in your mouth. You grant him reprieve almost instantly, licking straight from the crest of his balls to the engorged tip of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, following the gentle curve. He cries out at the contact and it makes you want to do everything in your power to hear it over and over again.

You gave into him completely, taking his tip in your mouth and licking all around, earning another heavenly noise from him before you sucked in your cheeks and bobbed up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper with each fall; never stopping your tongue from running along the length of him. You were addicted to him, the taste, the weight of his length against your tongue, the feel of his smooth skin against your lips. You fought to go further with each bob, sucking him down like the most delicious treat from Honeydukes, giving everything you could.

George was moaning mess before you, desperately searching for any part of your body he could reach as he fought to stop his hips from rising each time you'd pull off, like he never wanted to leave your hot, wet mouth. Sweet names, curses and a load more expletives fell from his mouth as you pleasured him until he reached out, leaning forward to pull you closer to him.

You were dripping, more aroused than ever and so desperate for him to fill you that it was all you could think about. He pauses, looking at the little strip of lace that was still misplaced, concealing nothing of yourself and ripped the thin strings on the sides, tearing it away from your body, both of you complete bare to the other's gaze.

It was so intimate and intense that it stole the breath from your lungs, just how adoringly he was gazing at you. His hand grabbed around your neck, holding your face and threading into your hair as he kissed you completely without abandon, your chests pressed together as your leg slipped between his, desperately seeking friction.

"Ride me baby," he mumbles against your lips and as if acting directly on command, you comply. You lift your hips and straddle him, his narrow hips allowing your thighs to rest against his comfortably as your centres align, the heat and sensitivity joining together to make you both gasp.

He reaches down and holds his perfect cock at the bottom, ready for you to climb onto and you can hardly contain your cries as you slowly sink down, feeling him stretching you out. He pulls his hand away, moaning at the sensation as his hand rests on your bum, the large hand and long fingers wrapping around your bum and thigh.

It's sinful how well he stretches you out, filling you completely without any pain or discomfort, like you'd been moulded perfectly for his cock alone.

When your hips rise again and you sink back down, this time much more confidently, your head flips back at the sensation. George grunts and tightens his grip on you as you slowly begin to ride him, hips undulating and breasts bouncing as you fall into a perfect rhythm. Your hair fans out across your back and you've never felt sexier in that moment, feeling adored under his gaze and praised by not only his words but also his moans and growls.

You're both so worked up, so perfectly in sync that you can hardly contain yourself, not even caring to try and hold off the impending climax that threatens you, creeping up slowly until it's impossible to resist. You can feel your walls clenching around him, your arousal peaking as it leaks out around his cock and you're rewarded with the most incredible moans that spill from his lips at the sensation.

"George, Georgie I'm gonna," you stagger, completely breathless as you keep riding him, finding the perfect spot and movement so that he hits every single pleasure point inside you.

"Cum Angel, fuck, cum around my cock," he pants, groaning and tightening his grip on your hips as he fucks up into you. "Godric you're tight, perfect little pussy squeezing my cock so good. Cum for me Angel."

You chant his name as the heat of your second orgasm consumes you, never once stopping as you bounce on his cock. He takes over fucking up into you as you ride out your climax, filling you completely as he shoves his entire length into you before pulling almost completely out and repeating the motion. You're in complete bliss, overwhelmingly so, and can hardly stop tears of overstimulation brimming at your eyes, blurring your vision only slightly. George lets out a roar as he cums, fucking up into you with a brutal pace that is sinful at best. His hands pull you close to him, bruises forming under his grip but it's perfect.

His thrust stop slowly as he comes down from his high, riding out the last of his pleasure as he pulls you down to rest on him, softening cock slipping out at the angle. You breathe deeply as you feel the evidence of his pleasure slipping out of you slowly, trickling down until it dripped onto your inner thighs.

He cranes his neck to reach out to kiss you again, though this time it's like a warm down, gentle and sensitive.

"Welcome to the family," he wheezes after a few moments of comfortable silence and you let out a loud belly laugh at the absurdity of his words, tapping his chest as you slink down to rest beside him, his arm still keeping you pressed to him. He's covered you both with the duvet and you can't resist slipping into a very comfortable sleep, too comfortable and worn out from the day to fight it.

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[imagininghogwarts]

Being A Weasley Would Include...

You're probably sorted into Gryffindor. Sorry if that's not your house, but the sorting hat doesn't seem to separate families even if they really should be in different houses (I could rant for hours on how Ron is a Hufflepuff and Percy is a Ravenclaw, don't even get me STARTED)

Even if you're not in Gryffindor though, Arthur and Molly would love you just the same <3

You'd share a room with Ginny of course!

And you'd be super close, sharing a room and being the only sisters

Molly hand makes a lot of your clothes and blankets, so they're super cute, warm and cozy, and made with a lot of love <3

Her home cooking is fantastic as well!

Your brothers are all very protective of you, even if you're fully capable of hexing someone for yourself.

Ginny looks up to you so much, you're her personal hero

Arthur is such a fun dad! He barely ever gets cross with you, and he has so many cool trinkets!

He also taught you how to play quidditch <3

For the holidays, Molly sends you cookies, candies, and jumpers she home makes <3

You'd grow up playing quidditch with your brothers (and Ginny of course) so of course you make the house team!

Backyard quidditch in the summer

Also exploring the marshy woodsy areas with your brothers

SUMMERS AT THE BURROW.

School shopping in diagon alley with your whole family can be chaotic, but you all get everything you need and it's kinda fun with Harry and Hermione there

Speaking of, Harry is there just about every summer. Get used to him!

The two of you are probably very close friends (Harry is a girl's girl fr, he's so good to Hermione and Luna, 10/10 friend)

You're also super close with Hermione! It's always so fun when she comes to stay with you guys <3

Fred and George are total menaces and nobody is safe from their antics, not even their precious baby sister.

You have so many stories about your brothers and sister, you never run out of things to talk about

A LOT of inside jokes with Ron. Being the closest in age, you two basically have your own language of inside jokes and references.

Getting to go on cool trips to visit Charlie and seeing so many cool dragons!!!

Spending weekends at the cottage with Bill and Fleur to get away from Fred and George from time to time lmao (and they absolutely adore having you over, Fleur loves you)

You probably bicker with Percy because he's a git </3 (but he still really loves you and will protect you at all costs)

During the Battle of Hogwarts, you fight side by side with your family. They're absolutely not letting you out of their sight, ever

You're part of the most cozy, loving family of all time <3

Let me know if you want a part two! I love the Weasleys <333

[magicbystarlight]

Before I Knew You - Part Ten

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One

Thank you for reading, I love seeing the comments and appreciation for this story ❤️

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 4,037

Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, sprinkle in some miscommunication, age gap, questionable ethics from a medical professional. Minors DNI.

The ocean was louder than you remembered. Colder too. 

Wet sand sank under your feet with each step, waves erasing the prints you left behind. The paper that morning had read August 30th. A month since the wedding. Six weeks since the farm. A little more than two months since the Death Eaters’ attack on Hogwarts. Eight months since you'd last seen your parents. A year since you’d kissed Cillian goodbye thinking there was a future together. Somehow that seemed too short a time for everything that had happened. All that'd you'd lost.

It had been easy to compartmentalize. Push it away and focus on anything else. But the holes were there. You missed the Cillian you'd known. You missed your parents and their excited, encouraging smiles. You missed Madam Pomfrey's complete trust in you and your abilities. You missed the days when you thought you had any control of tomorrow.

Three years working the Hospital Wing, two more being its frequent volunteer. All in hopes of a job at St. Mungos. You’d gotten it. A spot in the Janus Thickey Ward working with patients with spell damaged minds. The decision to walk away from it had been easy. You were no longer safe, yes, but that wasn’t why.

You could still remember his blood on your hands. The panic in Madam Pomfrey’s usually calm movements. His eyes finally opening, blue in a sea of red, and his hand gripping your wrist. He’d mumbled something. Impossible to understand. But he was alive and there was hope. He would live. Scarred and straddled with symptoms of an unknown severity, but there had been hope he could live his life mostly as he always had. Then Fleur had fled.

All he'd gotten was a letter. All you'd given Cillian was a letter. She’d sent back a ring, you’d sent back a bracelet. Maybe not the same, but they were kindred sentiments. And it was devastating to destroy something that in another time would have been forever. 

The sand shifted as you sat. No wonder Bill hated the idea of you leaving. No wonder you had such a hard time actually wanting to leave. It was ironic how well matched you were. Poetic even. You his stand in for Fleur and he yours for Cillian. He could make you stay and you could stay. He wanted to protect people and you wanted to heal them.

But he wasn't Cillian and you weren't Fleur and this wasn't a relationship. This was two traumatized people trapped together in a war trying to keep each other alive.

High tide came while you watched the moon's reflection ripple in the water. The ocean couldn't combat the forces of the moon. How could you?

—

Bill sat, head in his hands, at the table when you returned to the cottage. Waiting.

"Thought you went to bed."

He looked up. Gods it wasn’t fair when he looked at you like that. Like he was relieved to see you. "Yeah, yeah I did, but I heard the door and I thought…”

He didn’t finish the thought. You had to look away. His sad eyes were for someone else. “I needed some air.” Had you looked like that when he left? Maybe the first night. Much worse the other three. "I wouldn't walk out on you." Not like he did.

"Right," was all he had to say.

Maybe you should have left.

"I'm off to bed then." You hadn't made it two steps before he pleaded for you to wait.

"Can we talk?"

It was too much. Your emotions were still raw, bleeding and blistering from the scab you’d picked away. It hurt. You were hurting. And he only cared because he thought you were going to leave. Gods, why did that make it worse? 

"I don't fucking know Bill, can we? Cause I’ve tried. But every time you leave. Or we say ‘tomorrow’. But there’s never been a tomorrow, has there?” You couldn't look at him. If you did, you'd break. "I'm exhausted with this back and forth. Trying to manage being your Healer who understands how difficult this has been for you and being your friend who doesn't understand why you won't let me help you." You could hear him move, but you kept your gaze fixed on the stairs. "I can't keep doing this, having this same conversation with you. I know it's a lot, I get it, I do, but I'm terrfied I'm going to watch you die in this fucking cottage because your ego is too fucking big to let someone take care of you." He was standing right behind you. You could step back, let his arms wrap around you.

"I had nightmares." It was a fragile confession. An admission he didn't want to give. "Every night after that first one in the Hospital Wing. They always changed, but it was mostly just Greyback and Death Eaters coming after the people I cared about. Every night. Except the night Mad-Eye died. I thought maybe it was because I lived it that night, because they came back. And then we came here and it was so…peaceful. I just slept. Until I fucked everything up and left. The only night since then that I haven't dreamed of death and blood is the night I came back."

"You should have told me."

"What was I supposed to say? Sleep with me so I don't have bad dreams?"

You spun, shoving your finger into his chest. "And there's that fucking ego, Bill." "Ego? You think this has all been about my ego?"

"I know tonight was."

He started to say something, reconsidered, and said instead, "Alright you got me there. But, but, wait, please," he grabbed your hand as you'd begun to turn away again. "Think about this from my perspective, yeah? You’ve made it abundantly clear that you would do whatever it takes to make me feel even an ounce of relief.”

“Of course I would.”

“And don’t you see the problem with that? If I’d told you in the beginning that I needed to sleep with you and needed to fuck you, you’d have done it.”

“It would've taken me a bit to come around to it," maybe not as long as you'd like to admit, "but yeah. Yeah, I would have.”

“But not because you would have wanted to.”

He was wrong, but it only made you feel worse. “Do you realize how unethical it is for me to want to fuck you, Bill? It goes against everything I’m supposed to be as your Healer. You don’t have control over what’s happening to you, how your body’s reacting, and I’m supposed to be helping you through it, not taking advantage of you.”

“Taking advantage of me? I’ve got almost ten years on you. These last few months have been hell for you and now—now you depend on me for almost everything. What I want is depraved." He still held your hand, now clutching it against his chest. "I'm supposed to keep you safe and instead all I can think about half the time is…Merlin, you don't need to know. And maybe, maybe I can't help that, but I never had to drag you into it." Like you knew you would, you broke. Reaching up, you cupped his face. His scruff scratched at your palm as he leaned into the touch. "You didn't drag me into anything."

"I did, didn't I? Bringing you here? I should've taken you somewhere else with someone else."

"I think you're forgetting if it wasn't for you and Remus, I'd be dead. And if you hadn't been so quick at the wedding, I'd either been caught by Death Eaters or Cillian." His grip tightened on your hand, eyes clenched shut. "We've made the best choices we can, Bill. The ones that've kept us alive."

"It doesn't feel like there's been any choices."

"Well we have a choice now. We can figure out another living situation for me, with someone else and hope that alleviates some of your symptoms. Let me finish," you said as he opened his mouth. "We can do that. Or we can ignore how complicated and unethical it is for me to stay and we do what we need to do for each other. What we want to do to each other. But only, only if let me take care of you."

"So you do want me?" "Bill Weasley, did you hear any other words I said?"

His hand took hold of your waist, pulling you closer. "Every one of 'em. I'll let you run any test, answer any question, poke and prod whatever you need, follow every instruction you give. Promise. Just stay with me."

"I'm not doing this again. I won't have this conversation a third—" you paused and corrected, "a fourth time. If you can't—"

"We won't." His grip tightened, forehead pressing against yours. "We'll do it your way."

"Okay. Good." He felt so warm. "Maybe we should get to bed?"

“Yeah.”

“Together, right?”

“I do need you to keep away the bad dreams,” he mused before sweeping you into his arms. His amused chuckle as you questioned how he kept picking you up so effortlessly left you feeling breathless. “You’re light as a feather, love.”

It was only a few minutes later that he was breathing evenly beneath you in the small bed upstairs, an arm draped around your waist. He wasn't Cillian. You weren't Fleur. This wasn't a relationship. For now though, this was enough. One day it wouldn't be, but you closed your eyes and slept. 

—

Nothing could have made you leave bed. It smelled too good, felt too warm. After weeks of terrible sleep, it was heaven. From Bill's steady breath against your hair, it seemed he wouldn't crawl out of bed anytime soon either.

Almost nothing could have made you leave bed.

Nothing but a loud pop, followed closely by another. 

You were jinxed. You had to be. It was the only explanation for a Weasley horde popping into existence so early in the morning with Bill still wrapped around you in bed. Bill's wide-eyed terror mirrored your own as the shrill voice of Molly shrieked at the familiar laughter of Fred, George, and Ginny.

"...to Diagon Alley! Alone! To think I trusted you boys with her!"

"It was a quick stop," one of the twins insisted as you both fell out of bed and scrambled down the stairs. "Needed to grab something from the shop," said the other.

"And no one even saw me!” Ginny added.

“But what if they had! Don’t you think it would have raised a very dangerous question of exactly how you’d appeared there when no one saw you leave the Burrow? Hmm? They think they're watching our every move! We cannot have them question that!”

Five heads of fiery red hair came into view of the windows causing your own to whip around the house in case anything screamed, “We had sex last night!” Bill seemed to do the same. He dove for something on the floor that you couldn’t see from the table. He managed to straighten up just before the door burst open.

Fred—you knew it was him because he had both his ears—was the first of the brood to come through with George and Ginny close on his heels. “Mornin’ Bill! Mornin’ Gorgeous!”

“Merlin, Fred! Have no manners stuck in that head of yours?” Molly gripped as she followed. She turned from her son and fixed you with a softer, apologetic look. “Sorry dear. We didn’t mean to burst in."

"Oh, we most certainly did," Fred countered as he made his way to you and threw an arm around your shoulders. George added, mirroring his twin, “We were hoping to catch you two doing something naughty.” 

"That's it! Both of you, back to the Burrow!" 

Whining shouts of protests came from the three younger Weasley siblings as you were released. “It was a joke!” “Can’t anyone have a good laugh these days?” "But it's my last day!"All you could do was hope that nothing in your face gave away the very naughty things they'd have caught you doing if they'd come by the night before.

As the argument continued, Arthur took the opportunity to break away. He approached Bill, his expression markedly more subdued than the others. He whispered something into his son's ear. Bill's gaze flitted to you—in worry? Horror? Embarrassment? Oh gods, did Arthur know? Did they all know? An uncomfortable bubbling in your stomach grew as the two disappeared into the bedroom Kingsley had occupied the day before. 

“One more toe out of line and I will send you back, do you hear me?”

Your gaze snapped back to the others. No. They didn’t know. Fred and George would certainly never let you live it down if they’d known. Molly would not be looking at you with any kindness if she thought you’d taken advantage of her son. And Ginny… you didn’t want to know what she would do. You’d seen the aftermath of her hexes.

"Now outside. The three of you."

Ginny gave you a small wave as she followed her brothers outside. Definitely didn’t know. 

"Again, very sorry dear," Molly said kindly. “It was just supposed to be Arthur popping over, but Ginny overheard and well, she heads off to Hogwarts tomorrow and she’s been wanting to come.”

“Of course, yeah—yeah. I think Bill mentioned he wanted to have everyone over. Before, you know, Kingsley and all that. Something about fighting chickens?”

“Chicken Fight. The kids do love that game.”

“Right, yeah. So, um, has something happened?” Your fingers picked at your lip as you nodded towards the bedroom. “You know, since Arthur was coming by.”

Molly hesitated before giving a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just normal Order business. Nothing to fret about.”

When you'd gone off to the farm, you hadn't really thought about bringing along a swimsuit. Molly, the ever prepared mother, had brought along an extra one-size-fits-all swimsuit for you. So you spent hours on the sand and in the water with the Weasleys doing your best to act like everything was completely and utterly fine. 

Like you weren’t worried about what had happened between you and Bill the night before, or worried for his health, or worried about what that horrified look meant, or worried about Ginny going to Hogwarts the next day, or worried if Kingsley was alright, or worried if someone else was going to show up on the verge of death again.

You were fine.

Completely and utterly fine.

“You alright?” Fred asked as he sat next to you on one of the towels. His hair still dripped, his siblings continuing to toss around a Quaffle in the water. 

You gave your best attempt at a smile as you pulled your knees tighter against your chest. “Yeah, of course.” You'd never been good at acting.

“Really?”he asked with a raised brow and skeptical tone. "Cause I don't think I've seen you crack a smile at all today."

Resting your chin on your arm, you watched Bill get tackled and dragged down into the waves by Ginny and George. Arthur was passed out a few feet away turning a shade that would rival his hair and Molly was sitting peacefully under an umbrella reading. Bill and Arthur had come out of the room like nothing had happened. Joking, playing, teasing with their family with an uncomfortable force. They wanted everyone distracted for the day.

"Maybe not alright. I'm worried about Ginny and all the other kids going off to a castle crawling with Death Eaters," you conceded. A half-truth. It would be Madam Pomfrey's first time completely alone in the Hospital Wing after three years of your help. She didn't need you, of course, she was more than capable of doing her job before you'd even been thought into existence. But you could imagine this year would be more of a strain than any other she'd experienced.

More than the year He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hid behind the turban of Qurrial.

More than the year the Chamber of Secrets opened and petrified Muggleborns.

More than the year dementors roamed the grounds.

More than the year of the Triwizard Tournament.

More than the year Dolores Umbridge tortured kids in detention.

Even more than the last year that ended with Death Eaters storming the castle.

“We’re all worried,” he said, shielding his face from his siblings to hide his frown. “I—I tried to talk her out of going. Told her we wouldn’t mind going into hiding. But she’s stubborn.”

“Stubborn is a famous Weasley trait, isn't it?” It was meant as a joke, but it came out too dry. If there was anything you knew it was how stubborn a Weasley could be.

“Suppose it is.” He laughed softly as his sister ramed her shoulder into George's side, sending him toppling into the water. "Can you do me a favor?"

You side eyed him, knowing not to trust anything he asked of you. You'd seen plenty of people in the Hospital Wing after doing favors for him and George.

"Forget about it all for a few hours. Try to enjoy what's left of today." You looked back to the water. George and Ginny squabbled over the Quaffle. Bill was standing to the side, his face turned towards where you sat at the beach. "If not for yourself, then for Ginny."

Fred stood then, sand sticking to his trunks. Extending his hand, he smiled expectantly. "Let's go challenge Ginny and George to a chicken fight, yeah?"

Your response was automatic. "George is not cleared to have that sort of pressure on his ear."

"He's totally fine though!"

You scoffed, finally taking his hand to stand. "He is not! He has a hole where his ear should be."

"Oh, come on, love," he said, watching as you dusted sand off yourself, "can't we be a bit ear-responsible today?"

A smile fought to take hold of your lips and you had to look away from his triumphant gleam. "No George. But Bill did promise me a game."

"Oh, Ginny'll be stoked about that." He took your hand again, dragging you into the cold water. "Oy, you lot! Time for a good ole' game of chicken fight, yeah?" George cheered. "Not you though, Georgie Boy. Our little healer says you've got to sit this one out." George booed.

"She's with me," Bill said, nodding at you. 

Fred tugged you closer, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "Fat chance on that, mate!"

"Does no one want me as their partner?" Ginny pouted. She didn't seem very serious, but it was enough for Bill to concede. It wasn't enough, however, to keep him from warning his brother that one inappropriate joke would end up with him sent back to the Burrow. Fred's promise of good behavior did little to soften the eldest's irritation.

He was jealous.

Ridiculously jealous.

Ginny suffered for it. What should have been an easy win for her, turned into a struggle with Bill constantly losing balance in the waves sending them both crashing down with the slightest push. Ginny still managed to bring you down a few times, but Fred was steady on his feet. It was Ginny, pushing hair and water out of her face as she stood back up again, who suggested a partner change. 

Fred was reluctant to let you go. Didn't the two of you make an excellent team, after all? But you worried Bill might snap, the blue in his eyes barely visible with how wide his pupils had grown.

"It's just a game," you reminded him lowly before he knelt down in shallow water to let you climb on. He gave no response beyond a content hum when your thighs pressed against his face. This time it was Bill who suffered. More so than Ginny had. How, exactly, were you supposed to focus on a game when his hands were on you?

Fred took the wins with all the modesty of a Gryffindor. His boasting you could handle, but his attention focusing on you, trying to flirt like he always would was detrimental to Bill’s health. And his.

It was Molly’s fretting over George getting sand in his ear that gave a perfect excuse to ease the tension. Physicals. Everyone needed one. See how George's ear had been healing, check no one had come under the Imperius Curse. It’s what you were supposed to do in the morning with Bill, anyways. One by one you examined the Weasley's in the room you'd occupied upstairs. Molly was the first, voicing her concerns over each of the others. Arthur came next. He was silent, only answering questions asked. Then it was Ginny. She cried. She'd tried not to, but she was sixteen and the world had fallen apart around her. A small drop of Essence of Dittany cleared up the redness in her eyes before she returned to her family. Fred and George were together, amusing themselves with their banter.

And last was Bill. The door hadn't been shut more than a second before you were pressed against it. 

"It's all in my head." His kiss was soft, but desperate. "It's all in my head," he repeated against your lips. Your fingers brushed a strand of his hair back into place. "It's just Fred being Fred. He doesn't know."

"Maybe we should tell him."

You chuckled, but he didn't. "Bill."

His response was to trail kisses along your jaw.

"Bill," you said firmer, pushing lightly against his chest. "We're not telling him. Or anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because how do we explain…this?"

"We don't have to explain. We tell them we're together and that's all."

Your heart clenched. It was one thing for you to know that you were filling the voids left by the war, but for the world to see that? No one would believe you were together for anything beyond convenience and desperation. It would be easier to explain the truth. "I'm not going to lie to everyone about what this is."

He pulled back, turning away and running a hand through his hair. "Right." He plopped on the bed. "You're right. You're not going to lie to anyone that we're together when we're not. I'll keep my emotions in check."

"It's not like we're going to have people here often. We'll be alone again in a few hours."

He nodded, blinking up at you in a neutral expression. "You're right. We should get on with the physical. It's part of the deal for you staying, isn't it?"

“Fine.” You went through the motions, checking him over. He was fine, a little better than normal even. His heart rate was accelerated, but considering his day that wasn’t much of a surprise. His mood has somewhat recovered before you returned to his family, thanking you with a searing kiss.

An extra chair had been transfigured from some old driftwood to add a seventh seat at the table for dinner. Fred and George had tried to take the side with three chairs, hoping to trap someone between them. But Molly was far too used to their antics and sent them to the other side to sit by themselves. Ginny was a buffer between you and Bill, his father beside him and Molly next to you at the ends. Ginny kept you talking throughout most of the meal Molly had made, asking as discreetly as she could about healing spells. 

“It was so nice to come here today,” Molly said, dabbing a napkin under her eyes. “I’m so glad you suggested it, Ginny.”

“It was lucky dad needed to come today.”

George asked, mouth full. “Why did you need to come today?” Fred, needing to be part of the conversation too, asked, “Yeah, what’d ya have to tell Bill?”

You were going to let it be a family squabble, but Arthur made the mistake of looking at you and averting his gaze too quickly. “Bill?”

“I don’t think now is the appropriate time to discuss it,” Arthur said.

Bill disagreed. “Cillian went to his office. Asking questions about you.”

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[dazymaisy]

Harry’s 18th birthday

Mum pulled all the stops for Harry’s eighteenth. She had even dug out the little red pennants she’d used for their birthdays as kids. They were strung between the trees in the garden, faded and creased with age – Ginny hadn’t seen them in years. She’d forgotten they existed, really.

It was a considerable effort to remove herself from conversation with Fleur. It was a bit more like  a lecture than a back and forth, really, about the cookie-cutter trim she had Bill put up at Shell Cottage. Ginny wasn’t paying attention. She was busy watching the birthday boy, holding a red cup and sitting on a picnic bench, letting Teddy crawl all over him. 

Ginny felt warm and lost – her own cup contained cider and a fair amount of Firewhisky.

“That’s lovely, Fleur, I’m happy you’re making the place cozy,” she said distractedly. “Listen, I’m gonna –” she jerked her head in Harry’s direction and left it at that.

Harry smiled benignly at her when she approached. She grinned mischievously back. “I was wondering if you’d like to go someplace else.”

“Yes, please,” Harry said quickly. “Not that this isn’t all very nice –”

“I know.”

He fixed her with a strange expression. Teddy was dangling off his shoulders, tugging at his collar – he didn’t seem to register any disturbance.

“Listen, Ginny…”

Suddenly she recognized it, that faraway, contented sort of look. She smirked. “Have you been drinking too?” she asked abruptly.

Harry blinked slowly. “A bit. It’s my birthday, isn’t it? It's a rite of passage.” His eyes trailed to the cup in her hand. “Have you been drinking?”

Ginny smiled softly, knowingly, and took his hand. “Come on.” She tugged him away from the bench. 

Harry shrugged Teddy off. “Go run and find Uncle Ron, alright? Tell him you’d like more cake.”

They tipped the rest of their drinks into the grass before going inside. Harry followed her up the creaking steps to her bedroom. Neither of them were drunk enough to stumble on the stairs, but they were giddy enough to giggle about the idea of being caught sneaking off. 

“Mum would have a fit,” groaned Ginny.

She watched in quiet amazement as Harry stood in the center of her bedroom, looking around at the posters. A slant of white sunlight warmed the rug. 

He stared at her suddenly. “Last time I was in your room, it was also my birthday.”

“Yeah, I remember,” said Ginny. How could she forget? It had been a year now, she supposed. Just thinking about it brought back the tension and the stress of that summer. The sense they were all on the edge of impending, irreversible disaster. It didn’t feel like that anymore. Things were slower, now.

Harry grinned weakly. “Remember Ron…”

“Oh, he was furious,” Ginny said, lackluster.

It was all coming to a head now, everything she’d felt about Harry for the past year. Something hot pricked her throat. The liquor was making her braver, she realized. “Listen, Harry –”

“No,” he cut in. She looked up, surprised. Harry was wringing his hands together anxiously. “Ginny, I…”

His voice trailed off. Ginny remembered the summer prior, how desperately she’d needed a moment just like this one. The corner of Harry’s mouth turned up in a smirk. Ginny nudged the door shut with her toe and pressed the lock.

Before she could act logically, they were up against the door, kissing passionately. She wasn’t entirely sure who initiated it – they’d drawn together like charged magnets. Ginny ran her hands over his back, over the prominent angles of his shoulder blades. Harry slowly, gently traced the soft curve in her waist. A hot breath of July air blew in through the window as they moved to the bed.

Soon Ginny was helping Harry guide her shorts over her hips. As much as she hated to do it, Ginny forced herself to stop. They’d gone below the waist before, sure – handies and whatnot – but this felt like something more.

Harry froze. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. It’s great,” Ginny breathed. The words tumbled out of her. Her own voice sounded strange. “I just need to know one thing, please. And then I won’t ask anything else for a while, okay?” 

Harry nodded silently.

“Did you think you would come back?” she whispered.

“No,” he said.

Ginny sucked in a breath. Some part of her had hoped he would lie, though she knew he wouldn’t. “So you thought you were going to die.”

She could tell Harry was battling with himself, trying to decide how much he should tell her. Ginny didn’t press – not yet. Only if she thought he was holding something back.

“Well, I did die, technically –”

“No,” she cut in, softly. “You thought you were going to really die. Stone cold dead. And we’d all have to bury you.”

Ginny was surprised by her own composure.

Harry looked perplexed. “Well, yes.”

“Okay.”

Harry squirmed. She looked over at him. It was then that she noticed a familiar-looking lightning shaped scar on his bare chest, red and raised and angry looking. “I don’t… that’s all you wanted to know?”

“For now,” she said. 

They laid on the backs for a moment, shoulder-to-shoulder, in a strip of sunlight on the bedspread. Ginny wondered idly why she wasn’t crying, why she wasn’t more emotional. This felt like the sort of thing to get emotional about.

“I thought about you, you know,” Harry said suddenly. She turned her head to look back at him – he was still staring at the ceiling. “You were the last thing.”

“What?”

He smiled oddly at her. “Before the – when I was in the forest, before he threw the curse. When I didn’t think I’d come back. I thought about you.”

It felt like something heavy had both settled and lifted from her chest. “What about me?” she said dumbly.

“Just… you,” said Harry. “You know.”

Ginny’s heart swelled. It was obviously a very esteemed compliment, but not the sort you accepted with gratitude. She couldn’t very well say, Thank you Harry, that’s so sweet, that I was the last thing you thought of as you walked to your death. So she crawled on top of him and looked down directly into his face. Confused green eyes met hers. She pressed a firm kiss to his forehead.

“I love you,” she said matter-of-factly.

Harry was quiet for a moment. His nose scrunched, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to receive this information, and for a moment her stomach sank. But then he grinned at her, lopsided and beautiful.

“Yeah. I love you too, obviously.”

Ginny barked out a laugh. She had that rare feeling that she was exactly where she was supposed to be, in this moment – one she hadn’t felt since she was a kid, running back from the frog pond with Ron for dinner. 

It was a wonderful, warm sensation.

[fleurmionefridays]

Fleurmione Fridays: April 2024 Shell Cottage

A quarterly rec list curated by the 18+ fleurmione discord server. Inspired by hpsaffics #wlw wednesday.

All fics are complete and listed longest to shortest.

Witnessed here in Time and Blood by whistle.the.silver [M | 190.5k]

When Shell Cottage receives a motley group, Fleur and Bill do their best to ensure their safety. In the weeks that follow, wounds are healed and plans are concocted. Fleur and Hermione find themselves coming to a new understanding of one another.

Kissing, It Saves Souls by @k-starr-ent-ceo [E | 45.5k]

Have you ever gone to a wedding, then have to quickly save everyone there by getting them to leave, so you fake an affair with the bride (who subsequently is no longer a bride), then have to keep saving people, by kissing said woman, then realise you're in love? No? Me neither, but Hermione did. This is a tale about two women falling in love, then falling into an adventure.

I Get Along Without You Very Well by @lipzlipzlipz. [M | 32k]

Don’t get her hopes up. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t risk her heart. These weren’t the only lessons the tournament year taught her, but they were the hardest and Fleur Delacour learned them well. Until a girl with honey-brown eyes made her want to forget every one of them.

Lost & Found by lady_wordsalot. [M | 13k]

Hermione gets lost in the Forbidden Forest on a camping trip with her husband, Ron. Weeks later she stumbles onto Shell Cottage and its owner, Fleur.

willow by @rachelc978, from her one shot collection evermore. [M | 8k]

“Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark/Show me the places where the others gave you scars” - willow, Taylor Swift

A single word by @mushroom-grey-scale [T | 5k]

Despite months of living in the same house, there were only a small amount of things Bill could do to calm a veela's temper.

Stirring Dull Roots with Spring Rain by @sleepingontheway [G | 3k]

Hermione stays with Bill and Fleur. Well, she stays at Shell Cottage. Where is Bill all the time, anyway?

[braveclementine]

Chapter 21

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

𝕴 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 my feet in the sea, looking out at the storm. March had slowly melted in April and April showers bring May flowers so the wind bustled around me, blowing my dress out in front of me. Remus was not asleep, though he was quiet in my arms, looking at the storm with me. 

Trang was not with me for once, staying up at the house. She said I was crazy for coming out here at this time, but I couldn't stay inside. I knew dad was coming tonight, to tell everyone that his son had been born. 

That my brother had been born. 

It was weird, that this boy who I would not meet until his father was dead, would be the brother I got to recognize first, before my blood one. 

I was to melancholy to stay with them. So I stayed outside, telling Remus a story. 

In the depths there is a man lost in time. 

He has opened the wrong doors. Chosen the wrong paths. 

Wandered farther than he should have. 

He is looking for someone. Something. Someone. He does not remember who the someone is, doe snot have the ability, here in the depths where time is fragile, to grasp the thoughts and memories and hold on to them, to sort through them to recall more than glimpses. 

Sometimes he stops and in the stopping the memory grows clear enough for him to see her face, or pieces of it. But the clarity motivates him to continue and then the pieces fall apart again and he walks on not knowing for whom or what it is he walks. 

He only knows he has not reached it yet. 

Reached her yet. 

Who? He looks toward the sky that is hidden from him by rock and earth and stories. No one answers his question. There is a dripping he mistakes for water, but no other sound. Then the question is forgotten again. 

He walks down crumbling stairs and trips over tangled roots. He has long since passed by the last of the rooms with their doors and their locks, the places where the stories are content to remain on their shelves. 

He has untangled himself from vines blossoming with story-filled flowers. He has traversed piles of abandoned teacups with text baked into their crackled glaze. He has walked through puddles of ink and left footprints that formed stories in his wake that he did not turn around to read. 

Now he travels through tunnels with no light at their ends, feeling his way along unseen walls until he finds himself someplace somewhere sometime else. 

He passes over broken bridges and under crumbling towers. 

He walks over bones he mistakes for dust and nothingness he mistakes for bones. 

His once-fine shoes are worn. He abandoned his coat some time ago. 

He does not remember the coat with its multitude of buttons. The coat, if coats could remember such things, would remember him but by the time they are reunited the coat will belong to someone else. 

On clear days memories focus in his mind in scattered words and images. His name. The night sky. A room with red velvet drapery. A door. His father. Books, hundreds and thousands of books. A single book in her hand. Her eyes. Her hair. The tips of her fingers. 

But most of the memories are stories. Pieces of them. Blind wanderers and star-crossed lovers, grand adventures and hidden treasures. Mad kings and cryptic witches. 

The things he has seen and heard with his own eyes and ears mix with tales he has read or heard with his own eyes and ears. They are inseparable down here. 

There are not many clear days. Clear nights. 

There is no way to tell the difference here in the depths. 

Night or day. Fact or fiction. Real or imagined. 

Sometimes he feels he has lost his own story. Fallen out of its pages and landed here, in between, but he remains in his story. He cannot leave it no matter how he tries. 

The man lost in time walks along the shore of the sea and does not look up to see the lack of stars. he wanders through empty cities of honey and bone, down streets that once range with music and laughter. He lingers in abandoned temples, lighting candles for forgotten gods and running his fingers over the fossils of unaccepted offerings. He sleeps in beds that no one has dreamed upon in centuries and his own sleep is deep, his dreams as unfathomable as his waking hours. 

"Elizabeth!" 

"At first the bees watched him. Followed him while he walked and hovered while he slept. They thought he might be someone else. 

He is just a boy.  A man. Something in between. 

Now the bees ignore him. They go about their own business. They decided that one man out of his depth is no cause for alarm but even the bees are wrong from time to time. 

"Elizabeth!" 

This time I heard the shout, the first I thought an imagination or just a strange production of the wind. 

It's my fathers' voice. 

I close my eyes while Remus stirs, looking over my shoulder. 

I heard footsteps step into the water and that is when I finally turn around to face my father for the first time in months. 

Even the state of me being pregnant does not take the joy out of his eyes or the colour from his cheeks. He looked younger than I had seen him, at least since I had been a young girl myself. 

"It's a boy!" He said, his voice full of the same joy as his eyes. 

"I know." I said with a smile that I could make reach my eyes, no matter how hard I tried. "I saw. Teddy, it's a wonderful name dad. I am so happy for you." 

"You'll be the Godmother of course?" He asked, as though there was no other choice. 

"Really?" I asked. This time, the astonished smile did manage to reach my eyes. 

"Of course!" He exclaimed, looking surprised that I was surprised. "Who else would I choose?" 

I just shrugged with a smile, feeling a drop of happiness warm my insides. "I'm really, really happy for you two dad." I leaned forwards so that I could rest my head against his shoulder, giving him the best hug that I could manage. 

It was then that he sort've snapped out of his own daze. "You're pregnant?!" 

"Twins." I replied lightly. 

Dad hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, but also not wanting to say something. When I met his eyes though, I saw the disappointment there, which punched me in the gut so hard that I actually put a hand to my stomach as though I could soothe it. 

"That's. . . that's great sweetheart." 

We stood there silently on the beach, both of us avoiding each others' eyes. I swallowed back my tears, knowing that this could very well be one of my last times with him. So I said the only thing I could say to save the situation. 

"They might not be Severus'." 

I watched his expression furrow with confusion, before understanding, and finally his eyes filled with pity. "Oh, Elizabeth." 

I pushed my hate far, far down for my dad's reaction. I refused to let any other emotions besides positive ones surround my last times with my father. Even if they were fake for me, I would not let my father die with the idea that our last interaction was negative. 

Though, of course, he would not die at all since I would save his life. 

"You should get back to Tonks and Teddy dad." I whispered. "They need you." 

"E-" 

"I love you." I said firmly, kissing his cheek. "Get back to your son. I should put my own down for sleep." 

It was so weird, referring to the little boy as 'his son' instead of 'my brother' or even just calling him 'Teddy'. I knew then that I was not hiding my feelings as well as I had hoped. Dad would see right through me, just as he always did. 

Just like he always would. 

"Elizabeth just wait a minute." Dad said, reaching out to grab my elbow, since both hands were occupied with Remus. 

I turned back to him, looking into his warm, brown eyes. 

He pulled me into a full hug this time, his arms wrapped strongly, safely around me. I vowed right then and there that this would not be the last hug my father would give me. I would make sure to get another hug, and another. I would keep him alive, even if it cost Tonks and Fred. No matter what, I would keep my father. 

Even if it cost me myself. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔 much Bill. And you, Fleur. We're sorry we stayed so long, but it was just beautiful." I said as Trang and I stood in their front yard, getting ready to disparate back to mountains outside of Hogsmeade. 

"I actually wish you two could stay longer." Bill chuckled, hugging Trang first, and then me. "It's been nice, having company." 

"Yes, we shall miss you both." Fleur said, hugging both of us as well, also kissing Remus on the forehead. He giggled, kicking his feet, reaching for her. "Aww." Fleur cooed to him, taking him from my arms to give him one final hug. The two of them had bonded greatly over the entire month we'd been here, and I knew they'd miss each other. I would make sure to reunite them again. 

I knew that next week, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would take off for Gringotts. I was looking forwards to hearing about it- in the newspapers. 

"We should go now." Trang said softly. 

Fleur kissed Remus a bunch of times, making the baby giggle, before handing him back to me. Trang and I disapparated on our own without another word and appeared several feet apart from each other. 

Trang and I stared at our stuff and Remus for a moment, wondering just exactly how we were supposed to get back to Hogwarts in broad daylight, when a figure came around the corner, stopping dead at the sight of us. 

All three of our wands' were raised in seconds before recognizing each other. "Severus." I sighed happily, lowering my wand. 

Severus rolled his eyes. "You are far to trusting Elizabeth. Can you at least attempt to let me ask you a question and you ask me one?" 

I huffed, "What kind of kids am I having?" 

"Twins. To easy." Severus responded. 

I rolled my eyes again and then became a cat, which was a slight mistake because Remus was suddenly falling through thin air, as I could not hold him as a cat. 

Severus lunged, falling on his stomach as he caught our son and I turned human again, laying on my side. "I think that answered everything." I said lightly, though my heart was pounding. Remus however, just giggled, waving his hands excitedly. I think he liked it. 

"Merlin, Elizabeth." Severus said weakly, rolling over onto his stomach, setting our son down on his chest. He glanced over at Trang. "I suppose you're fine." 

"Gee, thanks." Trang rolled her eyes, but smirked to herself. 

"Uh, back to the castle?" I asked weakly. "Sorry." 

Severus huffed, kissing the top of my head. I turned back into a black cat, hopping into Severus deep pockets. A second later, a pocket watch was placed beside me, engraved with Vietnamese artwork. I rolled my eyes, settling my paws on the metal as though it would keep Trang safer. 

Severus moved quickly and I could hear the townspeople talking about their day to day lives in hushed whispers. I supposed that had to mean he'd hidden our luggage and Remus in his other pocket or somewhere. 

He made a stop after about twenty minutes, pulling the watch out. I heard him tell Trang that wherever we were was the safest place for Trang, then he was walking again. 

After another ten minutes or so, he was reaching into the pocket again, lifting me out. He placed me up on his shoulder and I could see that Remus was fast asleep in his crib now, his thumb in his mouth, his owl stuffed animal tucked against him. 

I turned human, pulling Severus down onto the bed at the surprise of me transforming. 

"I've missed you." He murmured, kissing me on the cheek. 

"I've missed you too." I said with a small smile. "How was uh, your visit with him?" 

He frowned. "I wish I had a forewarning about that. My heart leapt, thinking of you still being here." 

"Hence, why we left." I said lightly, cupping his face. "Besides, I figured I'd keep as many things the same as possible. This timeline is to important to mess up or screw around with, even with the smallest of changes." 

"I understand." Severus said softly. "I just wish it didn't have to be with me worrying about you all of the time. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." 

"You're never going to have to find out." I said softly. 

Severus hesitated and then said, "Dobby has not delivered dinner for quite some time. I just. . . Are you. . ." 

I looked away sadly. "I don't really want to talk about it Sev. There wasn't. . . I couldn't do anything. He didn't wear the clothes I made for him and since he didn't. . ." 

"I get it. I'm sorry." He murmured. I looked up at him, wishing I could voice all of my worries aloud. But I couldn't. His life was one of the ones I needed to protect. 

"Anyways." I said quickly, struggling to sit upright. Severus quickly got up, helping me up into a sitting position. "Uh, do you have another elf who I could ask to get some hot wings? I'm craving them again and the spicy food will also help with the pregnancy." 

"Yeah, of course." Severus murmured. "I'll be right back." 

He left the room and I wiped at my eyes quickly as I tried to take in all of my emotions at once. I did deep breath exercises until I heard the door open again, the smell of spicy chicken wings intruding my senses. My mouth started to water immediately and the corner of my mouth lifted up into a smile. 

He put the plate down for me on a wooden TV tray (although he just called it a sick bed dinner table) and then asked if I needed anything else. 

"Can you just sit with me for a little bit?" I asked softly. "I'm really sorry I'm in such a depressed state. Maybe it's the pregnancy." 

Severus chuckled a little. "You're actually sorry for being down? Elizabeth you can see the future of everyone you love dying, your brother is on the run, your grandfather-in-law through Tonks has been murdered, you're stressed about all your friends, you're pregnant, and you're trying to save the world- your world anyways- all on your own. I'd be worried if you weren't depressed." 

I took a bite of my chicken wing and hummed in satisfaction. "These give me so much happiness though." 

Severus chuckled. "Well, you can have as many as you want." 

I smiled then, a true smile. "I love you Severus." 

He kissed the top of my head. "I love you more." 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚!" The words ripped from my lips as I grasped the bed sheets in pain as another contraction hit. 

"Push." Madam Pomfrey said simply, trying to regain my attention. 

Severus smartly kept his mouth shut, sitting by the bedside, letting me dig my nails into his hand. 

"I can see his or her head, you need to push Miss Kane." Madam Pomfrey said firmly. 

"I am pushing!" I snarled. 

Severus squeezed my hand lightly. 

"There we go." Madam Pomfrey said, unfazed, the pressure dwindling just slightly as the first baby exited me. She took the bloody baby, quickly handing the baby up to me. I could see that it was a little boy, the little bit of hair that he had was black. 

"Oh, Severus." I cooed now, "Look at him." 

"He's beautiful." Severus whispered softly. The baby whimpered, opening his eyes to show that they were a beautiful brown. 

"Headmaster, you should take the baby until the next one is out." Madam Pomfrey said. 

I felt my heart fall at the idea of having to let go of my baby so soon, even to his father. Severus however, seemed to be able to get how I felt because he shook his head. Madam Pomfrey gave him a slightly exasperated look, but focused solely on helping me deliver the second baby. 

"Elijah." I gasped out. 

"What?" Severus asked slightly. 

"Elijah Kingsley Snape." I said again, crying out from another contraction. "We would call him Elijah Kingsley. I just. . . I don't know his name just suddenly popped out." 

"It's a beautiful name." Severus said softly. "Very, well," He chuckled. "Royal." 

It took another thirty minutes for the second child to come out, which were full of Severus encouraging me, me yelling at both him and Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pomfrey giving me times to push. 

This time, it was a beautiful baby girl that Madam Pomfrey delivered from me. I relaxed into the sheets, sweating and panting, but excited all the same. 

"Alright, let me check their eyes." Madam Pomfrey said, taking both of the babies into her arms, bringing them over to a table she had set up when Severus had rushed to get her. It took only thirty seconds, before she carried both of them over, a smile on her face. "They both have beautiful eyes Miss Kane." 

I smiled, tears coming to my own. "Thank you Madam Pomfrey." I whispered, taking both of the little babies into my arms. 

"Minerva." Severus said so suddenly and confidently that I looked up at the door to see if Professor McGonagall had come in, Madam Pomfrey doing the same. 

"What?" I asked, seeing that she wasn't there. 

"Her name is Minerva. . . how about Trang?" Severus asked hesitantly. "Minerva Trang?" 

"I love it." I whispered, my black cloud that I had been carrying around popping and dissipating as my heart swelled with love. This was the true Severus Snape, the one that I knew and loved. 

Madam Pomfrey was surveying Severus, which I wasn't entirely a fan of. I wanted her to like him of course, but after his name was cleared, not before. I didn't know how much her seeing this side of him would affect the future. Hopefully not by much. 

"Thank you for coming down Madam Pomfrey." Severus said suddenly, looking up at her. "If anyone were to ask why you were up here for so long-" 

"I will say that you were questioning me about the students underground trade to see if I know anything. If someone asks you, I knew nothing." Madam Pomfrey said solidly. 

"Naturally." Severus said and then she left the room, leaving the two of us with Remus and two new, beautiful babies. 

Severus gently sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the little ones. "They are truly miraculous, Elizabeth." 

"They are, aren't they?" I asked softly, staring at them in awe. Elijah Kingsleys' brown little eyes fluttered sleepily. It seemed that he was already tired from such an exciting event as being born. 

"I'm glad I can change the colours of the cribs." Severus smiled a little, flicking his hand at the new cribs in question, changing one of the blue pads to pink instead. 

I tsked at him. "You really thought both of them were going to be boys?" 

"One can hope." Severus smirked, but softened as he took Minerva into his arms. "She is adorable." 

"She's going to be your favorite, I already know it." I whispered softly, kissing his cheek. "You're going to protect her fiercely." 

"Yes I am." Severus whispered, rocking her. She also had brown eyes, which seemed happy, even for a newborn. "No one will hurt her. Not while I'm around. I promise." 

⬅️➡️

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 36: Extreme security measures

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): idk man... lot happens here [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Your eyes are trained to the rough waves outside of the cottage. A steaming cup of tea in your hand. Bill and Fleur are nice enough to give you a room to stay in their home. 

You've wanted to go search for Theo immediately, but Fleur forced you to have a shower. You felt grimy and dirty and just gross and once out of the shower were you glad she did so. That's what being stuck in a basement for half a year does to you. 

Once you've finally seen yourself in the mirror for the first time in months, a gasp left you. You've lost weight and a lot of it. It has made the scars over your body more prominent. Your hair is matted and nasty, sticking out at odd angles. But the worst is the word traitor carved into your collarbone. 

So... that is what Bellatrix did to you? Dear Merlin. It makes you want to puke. The fact that you've physically been permanently damaged by her makes your airways tighten up. Fleur has helped you through one or two nightly panic attacks. Salazar bless her.

Said woman comes over to you with a bowl filled with steaming porridge. "Eat up", she says gently, "you need to strengthen."

With a smile, you take the bowl. "Thank you. Not just for the food, but also for letting me stay here."

Fleur joins you staring out of the window. You slowly eat the porridge to not upset your stomach. You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you're in a position to ask for anything. "Do you maybe know... if- where Theodore is? Theodore Nott."

She looks over her shoulder towards Bill, who's washing up some dishes at the sink. They seem to silently communicate towards one another, leaving you out of their discussion.

"He's staying at Grimmault Place", says Bill after a pleasing look from Fleur. "But that was before he was sent to mainland Europe on Shacklebolt's orders."

A cold plunge envelops your body. He's... gone? Fighting a war that your generation has no reason to be involved in?

You feel a soft hand on your shoulder. Fleur gives you a sympathetic smile as she holds up a handkerchief. Only then do you realise that tears run in two streaks down your cheeks. You sniff and turn around, hiding away from them. 

"Is there... is there any news about him?", you croak out, doing your best to get your emotions under control.

But you get the message when Bill stays silent. You nod wordlessly and turn around. You walk out the door and towards the sea. You drop to a sitting position and bury your toes in the sand. 

The smell of the sea and the sand brings back memories of easier times. A time when you still had to watch out and take care of each other, it was far before the torture and heartbreak.

Someone drops down next to you silently, their hands playing with something. You glance to your side, but Hermione keeps on staring in front of her. In her hands a wand. Your wand. It got taken before you were forced into the cellar. 

"Are you alright?", you ask softly, your tired eyes raking over her body. You wonder what Bellatrix has done to her.

The girl nods before looking at you. "Are you alright?"

"I will be. I just... I need to- I don't know what I will do now. What are you guy's next move?" You pull your knees to your chin, burying your face.

Hermione hesitates for a moment. She lays the wand in front of you in the sand. But you feel no desire to touch it. 

"We think there is a Horcrux in the Lestrange family vault at Gringotts."

You stiffen. "How are you attempting to get in?" Logistically, there is no way that the three of them pass the goblins at the bank. They have to one, identify themselves with a wand that belongs to the Lestrange family. And two, they're public enemy number one.

"We've got her wand and a hair." 

"Pollyjuice potion? That's your plan? How are you going to bypass the endless counter-spell measures?"

She looks helplessly behind you. You turn around and see Ron and Harry standing at the cottage. Then it clicks. "You're asking for my help."

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). We wouldn't be asking if it wasn't necessary."

A deep sigh leaves your lips. "Fine", you let out. "But I first need to let Sirius know that I am okay." 

Grabbing your wand, you fire off a couple of spells into the sand to test if it is actually your wand. And if your magic still works after all this time.

Once that's done, you conjure a piece of paper and a pen. You pen a quick letter to Sirius about what happened and that you're okay. You also ask to let Teddy know that you're alive and kicking once he comes back. You give the letter to Bill and Fleur's owl and watch it fly away with the letter.

"So...", you ask, turning around to the Golden Trio, "what's the plan?"

"This is the most reckless plan I've ever heard", you grumble lowly as you walk between Hermione — who's Polijuiced to look like Bellatrix — and a slightly edgier Ron than normal. Your Dark Mark is in full display with the dress you're wearing and you hate it. Harry is somewhere with Griphook under the invisibility cloak.

Hermione stumbles a few times over her heels as you all approach the front desk Gringotts. You clench your teeth and sneer at the goblins that look up from their work. Pretty much what the Dark Lord's Heir should do, in your opinion.

It's very quiet in the lobby when Hermione clears her throat. But no reaction from the goblin. "I wish to enter my vault."

You cringe internally at how un-Bellatrix Lestrange she sounds. You should have taken the roll. 

"Identification?", says the goblin uninterested.

The unsure look in Hermione's eyes makes you speak up. You step in front of her and glare at the goblin. "I hardly think that'll be necessary", you sneer.

The little man looks up from his work as he recognizes your voice. "Madam Lestrange. Miss Riddle." He stands up straight before turning around.

"I don't like to be kept waiting." Hermione calls after the goblin as she folds her arms in front of her chest.

"They know", whispers Griphook. "They know she's an imposter. They've been warned."

You share a look with Ron, who looks ready to pass out when guards approach your group from multiple points.

The goblin returns with another one. "Madam Lestrange, would you mind presenting your wand?", asks the other goblin.

"And why should I do that?" She's getting better at pretending to be Bellatrix, with the way she holds herself.

The way the goblin speaks to Hermione gives the impression that he's speaking to a child. "It's the bank's policy. I'm sure you understand given the current climate."

"No", you growl, "we most certainly do not understand. I won't imagine the Dark Lord be very pleased to hear when his Heir and most trusted follower are denied access." At this point, you're giving the others time to think up a plan. And you hope it comes soon.

Softly, from next to the goblin you hear Harry whisper out, "Imperio", before the goblin's face changes. He sniffs deeply as a smile forms on his face. 

"Very well, Madam Lestrange. If you will follow me."

The five you get lead to a minecart that sets off at high speed. Griphook steers the cart while the other goblin sits in the back, high as a kite.

"What is that, Griphook?", questions Harry as you pass over a waterfall that splashes down on the tracks below. "Griphook!", he inquires as the goblin tries to break but the cart doesn't seem to work.

You brace yourself for the water to hit you. Once you've passed under it Hermione is Hermione again and the cart has come to a screeching halt. A red light pops up before an alarm shrieks. Suddenly, the bottom of the cart slides from under you and you all plunge into the darkness below.

Hermione thinks quick on her feet as she casts a spell which seems to stop you just short of the ground. The spell releases you and you let out a grunt as you still drop pretty harshly on the ground. 

You clamber up, looking around. "Oh no, you look like you again", you point out at Hermione.

"The Thief's Downfall. Washes away all enchantments. Can be deadly", explains Griphook

Ron makes a snide remark but acts quick as the other goblin wakes up from his Imperio haze. You want to make a remark that while you are the Dark Lord's daughter, you haven't used the forbidden curses voluntarily, unlike the Golden Trio. 

But now is not the place nor the time for that.

As you approach the vault, a low rumbling and growling comes from within. A pit forms in your stomach as you recognise what that means. You've heard your aunt and uncle talk about an extreme security measure before when returning from fetching you money for school. But you never believed it to be true. Until today.

White as snow and wrapped in rusty chains, a dragon lies in front of the entrance to the vault. Scars and wounds decorate the skin of the dragon. It nurses his paw with pitiful whines.

"Bloody hell, that's a Ukrainian Ironbelly." Ron looks in amazement towards the poor dragon. 

A pit from in your stomach as Griphook hands out rattles. When he starts to shake the rattles, the Ukrainian Ironbelly flinches away.

"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears the noise."

"That's barbaric!" You huff out angrily.

"It's effective", quips Griphook back as your group easily bypasses the dragon to the vault. He lays the hand of the other goblin on the door and it opens.

Everywhere you look inside is silver and gold. On every table, wall, or even every inch of the floor; leaving just enough room to walk around. Holding up your lightened wand, you realise all this is yours. Bellatrix and Rodolphus don't have children of their own. So as Bellatrix' only daughter, it's yours. Or will it go to Rodolphus' brother?

"Accio Horcrux", Hermione calls out, but nothing happens.

Ron turns towards her. "You're not trying that one again, are you?"

But you know it's here. It's in the vault because you feel it. It calls to you. 

"Is it in here, Harry? Can you feel anything?"

"Yes", both you and Harry reply, looking at each other. 

You look around, your eyes drawn to a certain point of the vault. "It's there", you point out. Up high, you hear it whisper to you to come and get it. To touch it. It makes your skin crawl. A golden cup gleams evilly at you.

Hermione gasps as she accidentally bumps against a table. A cup topples over and starts to multiply. Of course, the Lestarnges are not that stupid to not put a curse in the vault.

"Give me the sword." 

Hermione pulls out a sword from her beaded bag and throws it at Harry. Since when does that fit in there?

As cups and plates and trophies multiply around you, Harry scales the growing pile of gold. The room starts to fill with objects as everyone struggles. 

"Stop moving!", you call out and the room stops filling. Only Harry's pile is still growing until he snatches the cup. He bursts out of the pile, but the cup flies from his hands. Into that of Griphook.

"We've had a deal, Griphook."

The goblin in question holds out his hand. "The cup for the sword."

Reluctantly, Harry throws the sword at Griphook, who in turn throws the cup towards you. You catch it and it sizzles in your hand. Your head twitches harshly.

A mean gleam takes over Griphook's features. "I said I'd get you in. I didn't say anything about getting you out." He opens the door and the cursed riches pile out.

The four of you stumble out and watch how Griphook escapes and the other goblin gets burned to a crisp. 

Guards fire blasting curses at you and you hide behind the pillars. "We can't just stand here! Who's got an idea?", yells Hermione above the blastst.

"You're the brilliant one!", argues Ron back.

You shake your head. "I've got an idea. But it's mad. Reducto." You fire the spell at the railing and it flies off. You run back before launching yourself on the dragon's back. The others follow you and grip tightly to the spikes on the back of the dragon.

"Relashio." The chain that holds the dragon snaps. It fires another blast towards the guards before it looks up. You follow its gaze and see your way out. The dragon climbs its way up, destroying a train track in its wake and sending a bunch of guards into the depts.

Bursting through the floor of the lobby, the dragon breathes fire around itself. Finally, it makes its way through the roof and sits like a gigantic pigeon on the roof, catching its breath.

Hermione fires a spell at its tail and the dragon flies off. You soar through the sky, getting a wonderful look over London. 

You don't know for how long you've been staying put before the four of you drop down into a lake.

You feel it. His anger. Voldemort knows that Harry's been destroying Horcruxes. It's all-consuming. Searing. Red hot. He knows you've escaped the Manor. He knows you've betrayed him. And he is outraged.

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[moon-witchs-world]

Dress - Harry J. Potter

I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

Harry J. Potter x Fem!reader

~1,1K words Summary: After defeating Lord Voldemort Harry Potter wants nothing more than to be happy. To have an easy, simple life. Be boring for a while. Things have changed. The golden trio becomes a loved-up duo and leaves Harry spending more time by himself than he likes. Things with Ginny Weasley just didn’t work out, both of them have changed and they have gone their separate ways. He spends more and more time with you, his best friend and decides to ask you to be his plus one at Ron and Hermione’s wedding. 

Author’s note: this is pure, sickly sweet fluff inspired by the TS song Dress. Hope you enjoy, please leave me a comment or reblog, it makes my day! 

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It would make me so happy to go to R&H’s  wedding together. Will you go with me?,’ Harry had written to you a few weeks earlier. You had written your reply with shaking hands.  I would love to, Harry. 

And so there you were on a sunny Spring day wearing a flowy, fairytale like dress that complemented all your curves, waiting for Harry Potter. 

Ron and Hermione were getting married today and you were beyond excited. You loved weddings. Adored them. There was something so magical and promising about two people dressed up to the nines, in front of all their loved ones, making vows that would last a lifetime. It was even more special when the people getting married were two of your best friends. 

You met Harry, Ron and Hermione when you were just eleven on your first day at Hogwarts. Being muggle born you didn’t know anyone who went to Hogwarts and you were so anxious. The trio was kind to you and accepted you into their little friend group. After the Wizarding War you remained closest to Harry. Ron and Hermione had finally confessed their love to each other and were making up for lost time by never leaving each other’s company or their home for that matter. 

During those post-war years you and Harry grew closer than ever and spent a lot of time together. He was the best friend anyone could ask for, but lately your feelings for him changed. You had fallen for the Chosen one. The man with the lightning shaped scar on his forehead and the fierce green eyes. The kind wizard who was seemingly unaware of the magnetic power he had on you. 

And then he asked you to go to the wedding together. Maybe he meant it just as friends, but you felt hopeful. Maybe today you were finally going to be brave enough to confess your feelings. 

You arrived before Harry did and had some time to take in the beautiful scenery. The wedding would take place outside, in the idyllic backyard of Bill and Fleur’s Shell Cottage. There were wildflowers everywhere and champagne flutes floated through the air. You grabbed one and took a sip. Maybe a bit of liquid courage was exactly what you needed. 

A faint pop behind you startled you and when you turned around you felt a mixture of comfort and anxiety when you saw Harry Potter had appeared behind you. 

‘Forgive me for being late. You look absolutely gorgeous,’ he said after pressing a kiss on your cheek. You hoped he didn’t notice you blushing just a little. When you replied, he was still staring at you.

‘No problem, I only just arrived. You look very handsome as well, Harry,’ you answered. His dark green dress robes made his eyes pop even more and his hair wasn't as messy as usual. You liked his messy, raven coloured hair that never seemed to want to behave in a certain way and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his hair to mess it up a bit more. 

‘Please, everyone, take your seats. The ceremony is about to begin!’ Mrs. Weasley said rather agitated and you and Harry both went and took a seat at the front. 

The ceremony was intimate and beautiful. You were sure Ron had had a bit too much to drink before, he slurred his words a bit during his vows and his posture was a bit unsteady. Hermione looked radiant, even more beautiful than on a normal day. 

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you thought you felt Harry’s eyes wander to you at least a couple of times during the ceremony. You were very aware of your upper legs touching ever so slightly and when you wiped away a few happy tears, he squeezed your hand softly. 

When Ron and Hermione were officially husband and wife and the newlyweds were sharing a passionate kiss, everyone got up and cheered. 

‘Let’s celebrate!’ Ron yelled enthusiastically. The chairs were magicked away which made space for a dancefloor. Harry took your hands and the both of you started to dance. You let him lead you over the dancefloor, never breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds. After a while you two decided it was time to take a break and have a drink. Harry took two glasses of champagne from one of the floating trays and gave you one. You stood there in silence for a moment, looking at Ron and Hermione, locked into a tight embrace in the center of the dancefloor. 

‘You’re my best friend. I’m glad we’re here together,’ Harry suddenly said with a beaming smile. You had always been proud to call someone as kind and authentic as Harry Potter your best friend, but now the words hurt you. They felt empty. Not anything close to what you actually felt for him. 

‘I don’t want to be your best friend,’ you heard yourself say. His eyes widened in confusion and a few wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he frowned. 

‘Well, I mean, I like being your best friend. But I want to be more,’ you said so quietly it was no more than a whisper. Harry grabbed your hand and leaned in a bit. 

‘Well, to be honest, I didn’t ask you to come with me as a friend,’ he said with a slight flush on his cheeks. You looked at him in disbelief. Could it be? Could your feelings for Harry be mutual?

‘Is it weird to ask you to be my girlfriend at our best friends’ wedding?’ You giggled. 

‘I don’t know, maybe you should try it.’ 

Harry took a deep breath, straightened his back and took both your hands in his, in a way very similar to the way Ron and Hermione had stood before them not too long ago. 

‘My lovely best friend. Would you mind if I started to call you my girlfriend from now on?’ 

‘That would make me very happy,’ you answered. Harry looked relieved and then came a bit closer. His face was just inches away from you. 

‘I guess that since you’re my girlfriend now, I finally get to kiss you.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ you said with a smile on your face. He leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Even though you had fantasized about this moment for so long, it was way better in reality. His lips were softer than you could have imagined and the touch of them woke a million butterflies that had been sleeping in your stomach.  

‘Okay, now let’s go and find a place where I can take off that dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I think I like what’s underneath it even more,’ he said with a mischievous smile. 

[unhinged-romione]

Hullo there! I've had really bad Romione brainrot for the past six years and as a result, I present to you a bunch of fics!

I mainly write Romione missing moments, but I also have a lotta AUs (Muggle and otherwise), a steamy post-war, and a gen ficlet featuring the incomparable ✨Luna Lovegood ✨

And without further ado... *sweeping hand motions*

Series'

Mine (T): 6-chap 6th year AU where Romione got together and Hinny takes things to the next level. Hermione and Ginny are kinda hoe-y in this and I love it 🤪 WIP - but Romione part is COMPLETE

"What If" Romione Kisses (T): anthology of seven one-shots, one for each year, answering the question, “What if Ron and Hermione had kissed earlier?” COMPLETE

Let's Go (T but prolly will change to M): Muggle AU of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley meeting one magical night at a pub during their final year of uni. WIP

One-Shots

Ocean Eyes (G/T): Hermione demands that Ron explain the meaning behind his Christmas gift in OotP.

moving into me (T): Yule Ball Romione starring transmasculine Ron 🙂🏳️‍⚧️

Before Daybreak (T): flash fic of Romione in a secret relationship during DH

Virgo's Groove (T): the festivities in Shell Cottage when Lupin announces Teddy's birth get a bit out of hand. Also, Ron and Hermione talk about babies…and what it takes to make babies.

Stand Still (G/T): ever wonder what was going through Hermione's mind when she asked Ron to Slughorn's Party? I did a lil take on it!

Say Yes To Heaven (G/T): Romione's dance during Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Hermione Granger & The Baronet's Son (G): A lil Bridgerton-inspired Regency AU I wrote for the 2024 @romione-masquerade!

Shameless Smut

All post war. All rated E (obvi).

Dive: Hermione finds a particular book that Ron hoped she would never know about. But what happens next is more than he could have ever bargained for.

Moment: Romione's first time.

lips slightly parted: a collection of probably mostly unrelated horny Romione drabbles and flash fics. Title is a reference to the brief moment in canon when Hermione was stuck in her fight-or-fuck response when Ron came back in DH.

Gen Fics

What in God's name is the Umgubular Slashkilter? (G): missing Hogsmeade 5th year moment post Harry's interview with Rita Skeeter.

[starlingflight]

Ginniversary Drabble 12

Prompt: I16 - Why had no-one ever mentioned Mum's twin?

AO3 or below:

She'd spent the morning at Shell Cottage, having accepted Fleur's invitation to help decorate the Christmas tree with what Ginny considered to be a generous supply of seasonal altruism. However, as the hours wore on, and Fleur's criticisms of Ginny's bauble placement became increasingly frequent, she could feel her benevolence swiftly waning. 

“You have bunched too many of the gold together,” Fleur declared, snatching Ginny's most recently placed bauble from the branch and relocating two inches to the left where it looked… exactly the same. 

Ginny swallowed the angry retort that rose in her throat in response to Fleur's behaviour. Harry's words from earlier that morning echoed through her mind. ‘Be nice’. Easier said than done where Fleur was concerned, but Ginny was trying. 

“Sorry,” Fleur muttered in the silence that had fallen between them, turning her perfect sapphire eyes on Ginny. “I just want it to be perfect. This year…” She trailed off. 

Ginny nodded in understanding, swallowing thickly against the lump that had risen in her throat. 

Even Fleur, who was annoyingly competent at everything she attempted, could do nothing to make this Christmas perfect. This year was proving to be a strange mix of festive cheer, and chest-crushing grief that lurked in the shadows, ready to jump out at them at any moment. Two opposite ends of the spectrum, that only served to intensify each other. The tree, at least, they could control. 

“Where do you want this one?” Ginny asked, selecting a delicate glass bauble from the box on the sofa. 

Fleur's smile was radiant, not that that was any indication of her feelings towards Ginny; Fleur's smile was always radiant. She pointed at a branch to Ginny's right. “Here would be good.” 

They managed the rest of the tree in relative peace. Ginny pretended not to see Fleur wince dramatically when she placed a bauble somewhere that wasn't to her liking, and Fleur waited for Ginny's back to be turned before moving it, keeping her comments mercifully to herself. 

They'd just placed the final bauble when the front door of the cottage opened, ushering in Bill, and a frigid blast of icy wind. Fleur hurried to him, removing his cloak and marshalling him to stand before the roaring fireplace. 

“The turkey is secured,” he pronounced, rubbing his hands in front of the fire. “The queue in Diagon Alley was ridiculous, but Mum's pleased – when I left she was telling Harry her plans for preparing it.” 

Ginny laughed as she crossed the room to stand beside Bill, unable to stop herself imagining the utterly serious look that she knew would overtake Harry's face as he listened carefully to Mum's instructions for proper turkey preparation. 

“You're freezing,” Fleur shook her head, pressing the back of her hand to Bill's ruddy cheek. “I will make hot chocolate… these English winters are so inhospitable…” 

She bustled off to the kitchen, still muttering about the weather. Ginny grinned wider as she watched her go.

“Thank you for doing this with her,” Bill said, quietly enough for only Ginny to hear. “She really wants to make an effort with you.” 

Fleur placed a pot on the stove, filled it with milk, and began to heat it. “I remember you like your hot chocolate with the little marshmallows, Ginny?” She called over her shoulder, and then as though she was unable to resist, “they are too sickly for my taste.” 

“Yes, I like loads of them,” Ginny called back, still smiling. 

“You should both sit down,” Fleur instructed. “I will bring your drinks.” 

Bill and Ginny did as they were bid, taking opposite sides of the sofa. Fleur sent a plate of iced gingerbread soaring to the coffee table in front of them. 

Ginny laughed lightly as she picked a piece up. 

“What?” Bill asked cautiously, following Ginny's eyes to where she was watching Fleur still bustle around the kitchen. 

“Oh nothing,” Ginny chewed thoughtfully on her gingerbread. “I was just wondering why no-one had ever mentioned Mum's twin.” 

“Shut up,” Bill shoved her playfully. Ginny's smirk grew. “That's the most disturbing thing you've ever said.” 

Ginny hummed, swallowing her mouthful of biscuit. “It's true though, isn't it?” 

“No,” Bill replied stubbornly. The two steaming mugs of hot chocolate that floated across the room to them suggested otherwise. “Anyway, you're one to talk – your boyfriend is currently in the kitchen at home taking cooking lessons from Mum.” 

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed, certain from the knowing way Bill was looking at her that her smile had turned agonisingly enamoured and finding it impossible to care. “But at least I know where my boyfriend is this year.”