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inkwolvesandcoffee · 2 years

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Conversations over Coffee (Werewolf!Leo Demidov x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Werewolf AU, Modern AU

Pairing: Werewolf!Leo Demidov x Fem Human!Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: None

Summary: A cup of coffee or tea has the power to bring people together. No matter their walks of life, there is a powerful magic in the small moment shared over a warm drink.

It was a cup of tea which made Leo decide to put his trust in you.

But it was over a cup of coffee he promised to stay.

Author’s Note: I had to rely on Google translator and do some cross-referencing across sites for the Russian used in this piece. If you see any mistakes, please let me know and I’ll immediately edit it out.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @hecatemoon87 @zablife @vir-tual @alikaheroes @dreamlandcreations @buttercup32sstuff @woofgocows @ilovemanypeople @liliac-dreamer @elijahssuit

TH Masterlist

Not all beginnings are easy, especially when it comes to being placed in an unknown environment. To be fair, I can’t blame him for reacting the way he did. After all, he’d been smuggled into the country after having spent months in a container.

However, I’m glad he’s at least talking now. Well, to me, that is. The staff of the shelter harbouring him and other fugitive Wolves couldn’t get so much as a peep out of him. Don’t misunderstand, they were all the same glad I signed up as supervisor for the WHO’s reintegration program. It is a government-funded program to reintegrate the supernatural into the mundane world without it causing any issues like witch trials and werewolf hunts.

I remember walking through the narrow hallways and the small rooms, bunk beds on either side with little space in between. The air was stale and musty. People had to almost squeeze past each other to get somewhere. It only made it all the more clear that immigrant housing isn’t a problem which only pertains to humans.

The staff member at my side, whose accent gave away he’s from Belfast, seemed to become more fidgety the closer we got to the room of the person I asked to be assigned to.

When we reached it, his breath tapered as he told me to be careful and he’d stand watch. The man I was to meet could be violent in his silence. Fights had frequently broken out, most of them started by others yet always won by Leo.

Won without getting so much as a small sound out of him.

I stepped into the room, shoulders squared and my chest puffed out with fake bravado. The key to dealing with a Wolf who might still prove to be Feral is to remain calm and collected. Like any other canine, they can smell fear so it’s crucial to have your nerves under control.

Leo sat in the corner of his bed, like a caged animal filled with nothing but distrust. His blue eyes were cold as ice, full lips hardly trying to suppress a scowl. I was to keep my distance. Any kind of provocation would be met with dire action. Fortunately, I had a powerful card to play.

I remained by the door, hands at my side to show I was unarmed. “Leo, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I suppose they’ve told you about me.’’

‘‘I know who you are,’’ he sneered, his surprisingly very good English underlined by the thick accent of his native tongue. ‘‘What do you want?’’

‘‘I understand you don’t trust me. Rightfully so, I wouldn’t either if I were you. But I own a fairly big cottage that feels quite empty, so I could do with some company.”

“So you choose a Russian killer, a former KGB agent?” He bared his teeth, fangs already protruded from his gums. “Vraki. You go back, da, return to your nice cottage and live happy. Loneliness makes person strong, you’ll see.”

“Does it?” I tilted my head, foolishly having decided to start playing with fire. “Because I see a man consumed by it before me and I don’t think it’s made him strong.”

Leo rose to his feet, half-succeeding in letting his muscular and imposing frame intimidate me. Then he leant in, close enough for his breath to ghost over my lips. A whiff of mint and cologne hit my nose. Later, I’d recognize the woody undertone as his aftershave. “I have no time for little girl games.”

“I’m not mucking about.”

“Leave.”

“There’s a lot of open terrain where I live. Lots of nature,” I said when he turned his back on me. In hindsight, I suppose the gesture meant he didn’t see me as a potential source of danger. Otherwise he’d kept his eyes on me while retreating. “You can run around freely.”

Now that caught his attention.

Slowly he turned back, enough to look at me over his shoulder.

“The Cotswolds is really nice. I live in a kind of remote area, but the people don’t really bat an eyelid when it comes to the supernatural. Okay, well, it still freaks them out, but chances are slim something will happen. No witch hunts, in any case.”

He leant in as before, taking me in. Or, rather, he was assessing me. Measuring how much of a threat I was, trying to find out whether I was bluffing or not. After all, the prospect of open terrain must’ve sounded heavenly compared to his holding cell of a room. “You are a funny woman.”

“How about we discuss things over a cup of tea? I’ll show you around the house, where you’ll have your own room of course. If you like it, I’d very much appreciate it if you stayed. If you don’t, well, who am I to keep you?”

I’ll be honest, I bribed him a little bit by offering him the lightest and largest room at the back of the house which provides a splendid view of the rolling fields stretching into the horizon.

And it worked.

He stayed.

The sound of the front door opening interrupts the silence, shortly followed by heavy footsteps in the hallway.

“Leo, that you?” I ask without looking up from the dishwasher.

“Da!”

“Had a good workout?”

“Mhm.”

“The others still listening?”

“Da, the pups still are very much aware who’s in charge.”

Leo has been working as an instructor at a boxing school for newly turned Wolves. There are a couple of humans among them, but they are in the know about the nature of their fellow boxers. Or they find out about it soon enough after accidentally getting knocked out because their sparring partner isn’t in control of their new strength.

He likes to stay a little longer to get some practice himself and prepare for the next class. Lately, as confessed over last night’s dinner consisting of the borscht his mother taught him how to make, he’s been thinking about participating in tournaments.

I beckon for him to hand over his water bottle. Leo drinks the last of his protein shake, takes off the cap, and hands both compartments over so I can place them in the dishwasher. “Don’t go too hard on them.”

“Some Russian discipline might do them good. Teach them proper. Makes good fighters.”

“Not everyone’s as hardy as you.”

He grumbles something in Russian about controlling something, likely the beast within. Then he points at the large shoppers on the counters. “Also, next time, da, tell me when you go get groceries. I’ll carry bags.”

I laugh to myself, shut the lid, and put on the program. “How about we go out today?”

“Out?” Leo asks, perking up. Had he been in his Wolf form, his tail would have been wagging.

Though he keeps up a guard, I can’t help but notice he’s at his happiest when outside. Be it on a walk in the countryside, cruising through it on his motorcycle, tending to the garden or the vegetable patches he’s planted, or even so much as a trip to the big supermarket outside the village, his mood is better than when he’s cooped up inside. Nonetheless, it’s a small victory he’s finally sleeping indoors.

“Yes, I thought it’d be nice to go get coffee in town for a change.” A low rumble resounds from his stomach. “Although, let’s make that lunch.”

“Good idea. I’ll take a quick shower and we go. We can go. Um, da, be right back!” He rushes upstairs, his footsteps soon sounding towards the bathroom.

Even though he’s likely not aware of it himself, I cherish moments like these. When the walls crumble and there is no strict boundary between the man and the beast inside. When he’s carefree, excited by the prospect of going on a walk.

I start putting away the groceries, mumbling to myself. ‘‘You’re really just a fluffy oversized wolf on the inside, aren’t you?’’

A busy day in the village is incomparable to its urban equivalent. Although, the capital of the Cotswolds, Cirencester, hardly becomes any busier than a quiet day in London or Southampton. All the same, it makes for the ideal ground for those wishing to reintegrate and connect with people because it allows them to adjust slowly without being surrounded by a sea of potential triggers.

After parking the car, Leo driving as per usual, we casually walk towards the centre of Baron’s End. The white cobbled market plaza forms the beating heart of the town. On Wednesdays and Fridays, the local farmers sell their produce. On Saturdays, there is a small fabric market. Once in a season, though, an antique flea market takes place here. Yet, even when there’s nothing going on, it still forms the essential link that connects the villagers with each other.

I notice Leo is sticking closer to me than usual, enough so for his fingers to brush past mine. Either he doesn’t notice or willfully ignores it because when I look up, his eyes are trained on something in the distance.

The same thing happened last week while we were out doing groceries. Whereas normally one of us has the cart and the other wanders around, picking up items off of the list or at random, he was adamant we had plenty of time so we could browse together at leisure. There’s also been a recent development in our habit of sitting together by the fire after dinner to read and drink tea. We each used to sit on either end of the sofa, a gap between us. However, Leo now tends to sit directly next to me. I don’t have the courage yet to lean on him when he does, too afraid of the repercussions. After all, we’ve only known each other for around four months, our bond still fragile.

We strike down at a little café in a former cottage. The interior is rustic and simple, dark wood mingled with vintage items and small plants. Here and there, there’s a pop of pastel pink or blue in the form of a print or flower. Bright sunlight streams in through the French windows of the sun room.

The bell above the door tinkles softly as we enter. Leo holds it open while gesturing for me to go in first. Though it happens less frequently now, he still draws more than one pair of eyes to him. And not all of them are appreciative, especially when they hear him speak. “Go find seat. I’ll order. Cappuccino, da?”

But it are the female gazes that are more than appreciative, including the young barista’s, which occasionally make me not want to be out with him at all. It’s odd, but recently I’ve found myself unusually annoyed with them. Moreover, they make my stomach roil and reluctant to leave his side in a way that goes beyond the role assigned to me by the WHO.

Nonetheless, I have to let him do these things. Not just to improve his English, which has improved greatly over these past four months and is likely in part to blame on the many books he reads in the library and in bed. Many a time I’ve seen the light still on in the dead of night, his door cracked open just enough to show him immersed in whatever novel he picked from the pile on his bedside table that night. But I also have to let him so he’ll find his own way.

Without me.

I nod.

“See? I know what you like. Go find spot to sit. Be right there.” He tilts his head when I don’t move, fists clenched at my sides and my gaze averted to the ground. “Y/N, what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” I let out the breath I’d been holding and force myself to look at him, making sure to first blink away the tears. “Guess I’m still a bit tired. Didn’t sleep all too well last night.”

He grabs my wrist when I turn around. His big fingers are warm, their grip iron-like. Protective even to the point it hurts. “Malen’kiy-’’

Leo lets go the moment I snap my head back to throw him a glance over my shoulder. He’s never touched me before.

Realising the same thing, he opens and closes his mouth. Neither in his native tongue nor his second do words come, so he settles for a sigh and gestures helplessly to the tables off on the side. “Go sit.”

We’re in luck because I manage to capture a seat by one of the windows overlooking the plaza in the sun room. I watch him order, my jaw clenched thanks to the doe eyes the barista gives him. However, she quickly pales at something he says as he points behind him and nods frantically in response.

I sit up a bit, my interest piqued by the strange display.

What did you tell her? It didn’t look like the Wolf came out, but she looks awfully spooked. Should I interfere or won’t that be necessary? Also, what were you pointing at?

There is no time to check out what’s going on because, after doubting for a moment too long, Leo has already arrived at the table. Gently and with care, he serves me the cappuccino. “That’s one for you, malen’kiy. It’s on me.”

Scrambling to regain my composure, I try to keep my voice devoid of the curiosity gnawing at me. “Really, it’s no trouble to-’’

He sits down and holds up his hand. “It’s fine. I recently got paid.”

“Thank you, Leo.”

His features soften as a rare warmth illuminates his eyes. “You are very welcome.”

“By the way, what does it mean?”

“What?”

“What you called me. Ma- Male…”

“Malen’kiy?”

“Yes.”

“It means little one. And since you’re, um, well,” a rosy flush creeps into his cheeks and to hide it he hides behind his cup, taking a big sip of the black coffee, “it- it suits you.”

He isn’t wrong there, being a head taller. But his reaction is telling of the fact that more goes on beneath the surface of the uncharacteristically clumsy argument. There is a reason for the nickname, but he won’t divulge it to me yet.

Nevertheless, perhaps to save us from our mutual discomfort, I clear my throat and take a sip of the soft, foamy coffee in my hands. ‘‘Can I ask you something?’’

‘‘You are full of questions today.’’ He grows still as he takes me in, trying to discover why I’m crossing the apparent maximum of one question a day. Leo doesn’t like talking, especially about himself. Fortunately, I have luck on my side today. ‘‘Go on.’’

I nod at the barista, who’s gotten some colour in her skin again. ‘‘What did you say to her? She looked mortified when you two were talking.’’

He throws a glance to the side before gazing down into his cup, head bowed. A few stray dark brown locks dangle in front of his eyes. ‘‘Hm.’’

‘‘Leo?’’

‘‘I set boundary. Boundaries are good. Keep things in place.’’ Sullen, he takes a sip of his coffee. ‘‘Where they should be. Protects them.’’

The sternness in his voice forms a clue that I won’t get more than this out of him. Evidently, the conversation on this subject is over.

To save us from the discomfort of the violent silence between us, I change the topic to a more business-like one. “So, we’ve been living together for a few months now. How are you liking it?”

“Good. It’s good.” He takes a sip of his drink and nods in appreciation, making it hard to know whether he means the coffee or living together.

“I notice your insomnia has gotten less.” Nowadays, I don’t catch him as often reading in front of the hearth of the library we built together or, if the skies are clear, watching the stars in the sun room. At least he’s staying indoors now rather than wandering off across the meadows or sitting in the middle of them until morning.

“That is true. I sleep better now.”

“Do you think you could be happy here?”

He purses his lips in contemplation. “I think so, da. I owe you a lot and I am grateful for your help.”

“You’ve grown a lot since we met. I’m glad we’re talking now.”

His response catches me off guard. “I am too.”

“Leo… I’ve been thinking. I suppose it’s inevitable, but, how to phrase this, have-’’ the words catch in my throat, too afraid and jumbled to come out. I tap my fingers against the side of my cup.

He puts his down and places a warm hand over my wrist. “Remember what you told me. Breathe. Take your time, but breathe.”

I take a few deep breaths yet do not have the courage to meet his gaze, to see the strange tenderness that’s taken root in the ice. “Have you maybe thought about moving out at some point? Live on your own?”

“And leave you, my friend, my companion, my m-’’ he clears his throat, cheeks tinged with a rosy flush. “No, I stay. The house is very big and you’ll be very lonely. And loneliness is not good. It breaks you.”

“That it does.”

“I’ve seen you change too. You’ve become, how to say, radiant. More life, no, lively.”

I blink, surprised by his observation. “Have I?”

“Da,’’ he answers resolutely. ‘‘You have. It’s good to see. Very nice.’’

“Leo?”

“Hm?”

“Stay for as long as you like.”

Preferably forever.

“I will.”

#Leo Demidov #Leo Demidov x Reader #Leo Demidov imagine #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy imagine

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legacygirlingreen · 1 year

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24,55,62 🩷

I apologize for taking forever to answer, I really wanted to put a lot of thought behind my answers 💚

24. Favorite crystal?

Oh my this is difficult for me since I use a lot of crystals for a variety of things… I have always felt a strong pull towards working with jaspers (particular ocean or dragon jasper). Fluorite was one of my first crystals and I still use it mediation. As of late I’ve been reaching a lot for serpentine since it balances the heart chakra and I have a blood disorder/cardiovascular disease.

Putting crystal work and meditation aside… I really love rings and wearing jewelry. I am a huge fan of my emerald, moss agate and moonstone rings. I also have a ring made of real Helenite (the actual one made from the mount st Helen eruption) that was gifted to me by my mother and I love it’s bright green color 💚

55. favorite fairy tale?

Im a sucker for rapunzel… I grew up loving the Barbie film and then when Disney did tangled… I know the actual fairy tale is quite different than the kid friendly versions but still. Massive love for rapunzel.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Leslie Knope from parks and rec : I have always been told one of the few things I’m good at is gift giving. My partner actually calls me Leslie knope bc he swears he’s never met someone who has such a strong gift giving love language.

Anakin Skywalker: Ever since childhood I’ve felt quite a kinship with anakin since he was sort of shoved into a world of expectations without having much choice in the matter. I had to grow up quickly due to family circumstances and lost out on a normal childhood. Feeling a constant struggle with my anger and fear… gravitating towards anakin wasn’t that difficult.

Merida : not only did a lot of people call me this in high school because my more Irish/Scottish accent and routes (not to mention my red hair) but I’ve also grown up quite rebellious and have a unique relationship with my mother. I even have a bear tattoo for her since we both love the film. I also have several bows and used to be on a shooting team!

Amy March (little women): Amy, while the younger of the March sisters, I have often felt was misunderstood in literary history. Seeing the more recent adaption of the film, I am so glad to finally have a version of the literary character I love so dearly. I won’t elaborate to all the reasons I connect with her (she is an artistic, ambitious and level headed woman who often feels the second choice) but go watch the new film version and you may catch glimpses of me 💚

And since this is a Harry Potter / Hogwarts legacy account I’ll rattle off how I relate to characters in the franchise:

Luna Lovegood: she is just so in her own world, and not afraid what others think. I’ve always related to this energy.

Nymphadora Tonks: every character quiz I take says I have strong alliances to her personality, and I do see much of her energy. She’s a bit of a spitfire with a strong sense of forging her own destiny.

Sebastian sallow : shouldn’t be a shock (since I got back on tumblr because my connection with our favorite slytherin) but it meant so much to me to finally see a slytherin who was as studious as I am in real life. Before the game I was always a little apprehensive to let people know I aligned the most with the serpent house bc the bad associations and the fact we don’t see many positive slytherins in the original franchise… Academics have ALWAYS been a huge part of my life. Taking care of my baby sister at my own expense (emotionally, physically and financially) has been a huge part of my life. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe. I truly enjoyed playing this game since I watched and got to see a character that I saw so much of myself in at that age. Playful but worried, studious but always in trouble, protective of others but little sense of self preservation. He’s headstrong until he accomplishes his goals and would lay down his own safety for those he cares for 💚

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justtluffythings · 2 days

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HOME: Book 8 - CHAPTER TWO

MASTERLIST

September 2, 1991

Dear Charlie,

I’m fairly certain you would have found your way to dragons with or without me, but I’m more than happy to take the credit. Either way, I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!

The students arrived yesterday, and it was such a strange feeling being on the other side of it. We had the sorting ceremony, and McGonagall asked ME to do it!! I thought that was so sweet of her, and I was so honored to be the one to greet the first-years and get them sorted into their houses. It was such an emotional moment for me.

And guess who I saw when I went out to introduce myself to them... Ron! He looked so cute in his uniform, and it was so surreal seeing the unsorted uniforms on him. And you know what? He’s made a friend already. And you’ll never believe who it is! HARRY POTTER! I know! Can you believe your brother is friends with THE Harry Potter? And I get to be one of his teachers! It’s crazy.

You’ll be happy to know they’ve both been sorted into Gryffindor, though I was really hoping Ron would join me in Ravenclaw, but those Weasley genes are so deep rooted in Gryffindor, it’s absurd. Maybe I’ll get lucky with Ginny next year; I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Anyway, there’s this adorable Gryffindor girl named Hermione. She’s like a little mini version of me. From her looks to her brains, I’m so surprised she wasn’t sorted into Ravenclaw. But either way, I like her already. I can tell she’ll be a fun one to teach. There’s also this sweet little boy named Neville and this other boy… Draco Malfoy. Doesn’t your dad work with a Malfoy? I’d bet anything it’s his son. And from the stories your dad’s told us, I wouldn’t doubt it if his son turns out to be just as bad as Malfoy Sr. He’s going to be a brat, just you wait and see. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt of course, but if he so much as looks at Ron in the wrong way… so help me Merlin.

Classes start tomorrow, and I’m so nervous. A few measly months ago, I was attending classes and now I’m teaching them? Who allowed this?

When do you get to start working with the dragons? Did they give you a timeline?

Miss you loads,

Veronica

***

September 15, 1991

Dear Ronnie,

Oh wow, Harry Potter? Really? I guess we always knew he was Ronald’s age, but I never thought about the possibility of him coming to Hogwarts. Does he really have the lightning scar on his forehead? History of Magic is going to be interesting with him there, that’s for sure. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in that class. How is Binns meant to teach about the First Wizarding War with that poor boy in the class? I’m glad he’s chosen to be friends with my brother and not Malfoy though, at least he’ll have someone with a good head on their shoulders showing him the way. And he’s lucky to have you as his professor. You’ll be a good role model for him.

That was so sweet of McGonagall to do, I’m sure she knew how much it would mean to you. And what can I say? Those Weasley genes are strong, so I wouldn’t hold my breath for Ginny if I was you. Hermione and Neville sound great, and it seems like you’re getting to know the first-years fairly well, which is nice. I know you were worried about that. I would wish you good luck on your first day of classes, but they’ve passed already, and besides, I’m sure you were amazing. You’ve always been a great teacher.

I love how protective you are of my brothers. I know they’re safe as long as you’re there.

For the last four weeks, I’ve just been observing, but finally tomorrow, I get to go into the enclosure and work with the dragons up close. I’m a bit nervous, but mostly really excited. I’ll start out by feeding them and cleaning their dung, which isn’t the most fun job in the world, but hey, it’s with dragons so I can’t complain. After a month of doing that, I’ll finally get to start training them, and that’s what I’m looking forward to most.

Tell me how your classes went!

Miss you more,

Charlie

#imagines #creative writing #stories #charlie weasley #harry potter #charlie weasley fanfic #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #original character #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x oc #harry potter imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #harry potter story #charlie weasley story #slow romance #slow burn

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transboysokka · 10 months

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okay fuck it, twilight breaking dawn part 1 I guess

(for the first time ever)

ok fuck I’m really in it now here goes breaking dawn part 1 I guess

I HATE breaking up movies (especially book movies) into 2 parts like just bc Harry Potter did it for a 1000-page book doesn’t mean EVERYONE has to for money now…

Anyway starting strong w another corny quote from Bella

K Jacob couldn’t keep his shirt on gif one second

Bella and Alice girlfriends and comphet already yesss

Getting married SO young it makes so much sense now that I know the author is Mormon lol

Just bc this is normal where I grew up doesn’t mean I like it

Edward looks slightly less weird in this one I think

Omg what hasn’t he told her was he engaged before he turned into a vampire or something

Ohhhhhh juicy

Ok but he is waiting until the last possible moment to tell her this which DOES line up w the rest of his shady personality

Can’t believe this is the 4th movie and my opinion about him still hasn’t changed

So anyway does her dad know about any of this yet or

I’m SORRY I’m still HUNG UP ON getting married SO YOUNG like I know Tom of people who have done it but like these are children???

Tacky af of everyone to wear white to her wedding

Oh it’s a dream. Still. My point stands.

Are we gonna find out in this movie why she’s so special and vampire powers don’t work on her?

I’m starting to think her wild dreams mean something in the same way Alice sees stuff

Rosalie did her hair? Are we sure? Oh I see the back okay fair

I gotta know the budget of this wedding damn

Jessica is the GOAT of this whole series though she says everything exactly like it is

Anyway I just gotta say that I’m perpetually annoyed by the selfishness and stupidity of Bella wanting to throw her life away to be a vampire on purpose

Was that the author again

I hope this wedding scene isn’t too long I’ll be so bored

Oh you KNOW the 2011 fangirlies were losing their MINDS at this in theatres

More shitty soundtrack choices. Oh never mind this is the same song as the end of the first movie. Still sucks though

So are the werewolves and vampires like… good with each other now?

Does Jacobs dad have a problem with Charlie of something

Whoever this Irina is she needs to chill tf out

These speeches are sooo gd awkward. Very realistic

I do like how cool Edward is with Bella’s friendship with Jacob. Kind of ooc for him lol

I just KNOW Bella’s gonna talk to Edward like “ok I married you now make me a vampire” and he’s gonna be like “mmmm not yet”

Wtf why doesn’t he think they can have a honeymoon??

Is vampire dick like super dangerous for humans or something lol

They’re going to rio lol?? How fuckin random??

Wtf Carlisle just like. HAS Brazilian islands to give away??

Okay so they’re finally gonna fuck I guess but I HOPE I don’t have to see it, I CANNOT explain how much I am NOT invested in this straight couple…

I completely just dissociated for most of that but DID HE JUST BREAK THE BED LMFAO

Glad she’s having a good honeymoon but I’m bored af

Oh shit oh man lol he’s like “I bruised you I’m so sorry” but it’s apparently her kink what is going on???

Bro is she pregnant already lol

Wow it must grow like exponentially fast if something

I must be missing something bc I still don’t know why this is like a big deal?

Ohhhh what if they have to turn her so their creepy baby doesn’t kill her

Do they have a private jet or something wtf

Lol why would she call Rosalie of all people

What’s going onnnnn why’s Charlie at jacobs house???

I still don’t know if Charlie knows about the vampires??? I’m guess no??

Ok so Jacob thinks Bella is a vampire now?

Idk why this is all a bit confusing to me

I know he’s gonna see her and she’s gonna have the biggest baby bump

WHY is this a PROBLEM chill Jacob

Ok so is Bella carrying the vampire messiah or Antichrist or something

And now it’ll be hard to make her a vampire?? Bro I feel like I’ve skipped an entire movie

Edward is sooooo dramatic now if Bella dies he wants to die too??? CAN EVERYONE CALM DOWN??

And yeah what’s going on w bella and Rosalie

Teen mom Bella I’m so sorry ur going through this

So yeah doesn’t Jacob fall in love with this baby or something lol

Anyway this baby thing seems like something the valtori or whatever should be involved in

It grows so fast she’s probably gonna be giving birth next week

Jacob almost getting hit by a car lmao

Okayyyyy the werewolves are so extreme now too

This werewolf scene is soooo warrior cats coded (I know nothing about warrior cats maybe it isn’t)

Nice to see Jacob wearing so many more clothes this movie

I’ve had Seth for 5 minutes and I’d already die for him

The Cullens house is so…. Ugly…

We Stan Leah too

Werewolf civil war??

Leah deserves a gf I’m rooting for u girl

What a weird ass yahoo search for Edward

WAIT they name the baby renesmee right?? I’m JUST realizing it’s a combo of Edwards mom and Bella’s moms names that’s cool

I feel so bad Bella is gonna have this baby and Edward isn’t gonna want it at all

Did this book really need to be two movies bc the pacing of this one so far seems too slow

Also very fanficy

Does Charlie have a girlfriend now isn’t that random and sudden

So Edward says the baby is a human?? Then wtf is up with this wild ass pregnancy

Damn I really wish I could see anything in these dark scenes

That’s NOT how I thought renesmee was pronounced lol

Wtffffff did she just BREAK her BACK JESUS CHRIST

Did EDWARD JUST BITE THE BABY OUT WHAT IS HAPPENING

Lollll he was too happy about the baby and Bella just died lmfao

I’m way more okay with her being a vampire if she was gonna die anyway, not if she was gonna be a whiny ass baby about wanting to be special

But anyway yeah really not sure how she’s gonna come back from that one, or how they’ll explain it

Maybe the reason she’s still dead is bc Edwards compressions suck so bad

Stop just biting her everywhere eww

We really don’t need the like molecular animation of it all we get it

Idk why but I’m not completely trusting Rosalie with that baby

Do we know the baby is human btw

Why wouldn’t she have told her parents she was pregnant btw like she could have just pretended she had been for a while

Ohhhh jacobs gonna commit baby use but accidentally fall in love while doing it lmfao

Oh NOOOOOOOO that’s so fucked uppppppp they couldn’t have waited until she was like a little older at least?????

Oh NOW Edward calls for help lolol

Like she’s been dead a while stop being in denial

Is Edward bothered AT ALL that his enemy is in love with his infant daughter lololol

Ready for this bad CGI gauntness to go away though

Oh they really just added in some cgi airbrushing and PALENESS lol vampire skin

All three flashbacks are also unnecessary tbh

okay for some reason I knew about the shot of her opening her eyes all vampy as the very end of this movie

Yeah so that was partially very boring but mostly just a LOT of VERY INTERESTING developments

I still think splitting movies into two halves is very jarring and disorienting for plot and story reasons but at least for this one it KINDA works???

Thank god there’s only one of these left

#text #twilight liveblog

0 notes

cursestothemoon · 3 years

Note

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident

needless to say

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very

v e r y

protective of harry

you'd do anything for the kid

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt 🥺

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder

again

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man

and lily potter did exist

and there was a time where your family was complete

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike

not now

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly

you guys are back to square one

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO

youre a gazelle

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens

youre there

you see it

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse

youre not sure which

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug

keen on never letting go

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS

REMUS

THERE ALL THERE

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR

ok so hear me out

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague

but you just knew

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry

so did lily

she was the first one to say something

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down

james right there with you

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries

and he couldn’t do anything about it

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that

but the mood was somber

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end.

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further

harry has to do this alone

its quite symbolic actually

the one time you'd let go of the reigns

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother

he’d die

but you had to do it

so everything goes as planned

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king

and the war ends

when you got back home from the war

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry

any and everything you can get your hands on

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had

and your father’s unruly mop of curls

the same wave pattern in your dark hair

everything finally felt right

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

#harry potter x sister!reader #james potter headcanon #harry potter headcanon #potter!reader

595 notes · View notes

kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 1

Old habits die hard— and so do feelings, apparently. Relive moments high and low from your life with the Marauders and co. as you tell your godson, Harry, about all the mischief you got up to back in your school days. Takes place mainly in the Marauders era but also has content congruent with the Order of the Phoenix timeline, with some cannon divergence, of course~

- Main pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, slight Regulus Black x Reader, and a bunch of friendships! Gender neutral pronouns :)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

____________________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Memories And First Meetings:.

12 Grimmauld Place was cold.

Not in the temperature sense of the word, especially in the heat of London summer, but something about it felt distant. Perhaps it was the cookie cutter exterior, dreadfully drab, although you knew its true nature was anything but. Despite its grandeur, the interior was as ornate as it was dull and unsaturated, like a black and white photograph in all its monochromatic glory. Maybe it was the fact that you knew what had happened here in the past, or the fact that you knew who was waiting here for you in the present.

You felt the strange sensation of stepping through the thick blanket of protection charms surrounding the house, as if your body were moving through molasses for a fraction of a second. The moment you were fully inside, you began to hear the hushed bits of a conversation echoing through the entrance hall from the dining room whose door was slightly ajar. The words became clearer as you neared the door.

“Harry's not ready! Have you gone completely mad?”

You found yourself grinning at the first voice, Molly Weasley's stern tone unmistakable.

“He's not a child, Molly.”

You froze as you heard the second one; you'd know it anywhere.

A heavy wave of emotion surged through you as you got near enough to the entrance to see the face of Sirius Black through the gap in the door. His time in Azkaban had taken a toll on him, you could tell. Heavy bags hung from his face, his cheeks hollow; although his gray eyes still held that spark in them. His hair was longer, somehow even more wild and unruly than before, but it suited him.

“Well he's not an adult either! He's not James.”

You caught a flash of ginger as Molly crossed the room, using her wand to aggressively clear away the plates on the table as she made her point.

“I know he isn't, but he can handle himself,” Sirius said, “and I'll be there to protect him.”

“How touching, Black. Perhaps the boy will grow up to be a felon just like his godfather.”

Your stomach dropped at the third voice. Shit.

Your presence remained unannounced, but as you peaked your head around the corner of the door frame you were met with Severus' stoic face, an imperceptible crease of distaste in his brow as he regarded Sirius. As your view widened you saw that Lupin sat to his left, a human wall between the two former foes.

You stilled at the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle your irrationally rioting nerves. It's not as if you didn't know they would be there, but it had been so long since you'd seen any of them. So much has changed. . .

“You stay out of this, Snivelus. I don't care what Dumbledore has to say about your supposed reformation, but I know better.”

“Don't you have to go play fetch elsewhere?”

“Oh come on, you two,” Remus sighed.

Well, maybe not much has changed after all.

“Still resorting to playground bickering, are we?”

Several heads snapped in your direction at your words, and you were met with various reactions. Molly's face immediately split into a smile and she rushed around to table to greet you.

“(Y/n), dear! So nice to see you again,” she pulled you into a surprisingly strong hug and you couldn't help but join in her laughter.

“It's good to be back,” you admitted, “Charlie says hello, by the way.”

“Oh, I'm going to give give that boy a talking to,” Molly huffed, “you aren't his owl, dear. The least he could do is write home and say so himself.”

“Romanian mountain ranges keep a wizard busy,” you grinned, “He says he tries to keep in touch.”

“Sending home a bag of petrified dragon scales with a note that says 'look at this!!' is hardly keeping in touch,” she retorted, fussing about with your jacket's collar that had become wrinkled from her embrace.

Even from across the table you could feel Sirius' eyes on you, grateful that you had Molly's whirlwind greeting as a scapegoat for your flushed face.

“(Y/n). . .” he said softly, getting up from his seat.

“Hey,” you smiled, fighting the lump in your throat as he wrapped his arms around you. He was so warm, still wearing that damn leather jacket he'd somehow been reunited with after his imprisonment.

“What are you doing here? They told me you were out working in America,” Sirius said, eyes twinkling as he held you at arm's length.

“Well, I suppose I'm sort of working everywhere these days,” you said. As his words registered in your brain you turned to Molly with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him I was coming?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she said coyly.

You shook your head, turning back to Sirius.

“I'm so sorry, Molly said I could stay here so I thought she already ran it by you—”

“No, no, of course you can stay!” he said enthusiastically, “I'm glad you're here.”

He seemed gentler than he was before, certainly more mellow than in his youth, but that energy that was so quintessentially him remained buzzing beneath his skin, and Merlin, you'd missed it.

After realizing how long the two of you had spent practically holding each other you coughed awkwardly, slowly drifting apart. As you looked around the table your eyes caught Severus' and you thought your heart stopped for a moment. To the untrained eye he probably seemed just as uninterested as ever, but the look of shock in his eyes was so blatantly apparent to you that it threw you off guard. You managed to cast a small smile in his direction, but his expression remained unchanged while yours dropped. You felt your stomach twist up in knots as you thought about what had happened the last time you saw each other.

Lupin looked between the pair of you before getting up from his own seat and coming to your rescue. He extended his arms with a kind smile, and you happily shifted your attention to him.

“It's about time London had its best auror back in town,” he said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Moony,” you said playfully, hugging him tight, “It's good to see you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Molly asked, pulling a chair out for you.

“Oh no, I had something on the way here,” you said, taking a seat, “thank you, though.”

It felt surreal to be back here, where it all started. The faces were different—some new, some missing—but the same determined feeling remained.

“Now, where were we,” Sirius said, his confidence returning to his shoulders as he addressed the table.

“We were just talking about how Harry isn't ready to be tangled up in all this,” Molly said sternly.

“I think he should decide that for himself,” Sirius said adamantly.

“Well of course the boy would say he wants to fight, he's—”

“Listening in right now,” you pointed out, jutting your head in the direction of the open door where Harry stood, half obscured by the shadow of the stairway.

The boy flushed, backing away slightly as he was caught. But his eyes lit up as they landed on you, and you felt a tug at your heart as you saw your best friend in their bright green hues.

“(Y/n), you're back,” he said in disbelief.

“And here to stay for a bit, apparently,” you said with a smile.

Molly looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh.

“You know what, we should stop for the night anyways,” she said with a wave of her hand, “We've kept the children up long enough with our chatter, and (Y/n) ought to get some rest as well. Off to bed, the lot of you.”

Some of the other adults exchanged some knowing smiles as she shooed them out of the room. People slowly trickled out through the doorway, goodbyes exchanged, and before long it was just you and your godson left.

You had been lucky enough to meet Harry at the end of his third year, and he'd broken the news about Sirius' innocence to you. You so badly wanted to be there for Harry sooner, but between your strained relationship with the Ministry and cleaning up the mess with MACUSA in the States, you always seemed to be called away from the boy. You wanted nothing more than to take him away from that horrid house—you knew how nasty Petunia could be firsthand. Nonetheless, he seemed to be doing well, and you were happy that you'd grown closer over the last few years even if you couldn't be there in person all the time.

“I've got another little souvenir for you, by the way,” you said, having migrated to the living room.

Harry seemed to perk up at that. Since your visits had been so sparse, you began to make it a tradition to bring him back something magical from whatever part of the world you'd been working in.

“You mentioned you were struggling in Potions the last time we spoke,” you said, rummaging through your bag, eventually producing a small, gold-rimmed vial full of a deep maroon liquid. Small black clouds seemed to tumble in a miniature cyclone inside the glass.

“Dragon's breath essence,” you grinned, “nicked it off of Charlie before I left Romania. Put a few drops of this in your salamander blood the next time you brew a Wiggenweld potion and you're set to pass with flying colors.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, eyes wide, “that's on our O.W.L.S. this year.”

“I know,” you said cheekily, “you didn't hear it from me. Personally, I think an Outstanding in Potions as a requirement to become an auror is utter rubbish. Don't get me wrong, it's important to know your way around a cauldron, but to hold someone back who excels at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms just because they can't cook up a sleeping draught? I don't know, it doesn't sit right with me. And I've heard Severus is hard enough on you guys as it is.”

Harry seemed surprised at your casual address of his professor but shook it off quickly.

“But you're ace at Potions, and it seems like you really like it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I—” you faltered a bit, “I learned from the best. . .”

“Professor Slughorn, you mean?” Harry questioned.

Your eyes widened at that.

“Yeah,” you lied, recovering fast, “Well, Slughorn was a great teacher but terrible at throwing parties. He had this thing called the Slug Club and the dinners were just awful. Your mother was the first of us to join and she ended up roping me into it, and before we knew it we were all standing around in these ridiculous outfits taking swigs of the firewhiskey your dad snuck in just to get through the night.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, and you could see Harry living vicariously through the emotions on your face. You were grateful for this moment; this was the longest you'd actually gotten to sit down and talk together in a long time.

“Were you always friends?” Harry asked, “with my parents, I mean.”

You had to laugh at that question.

“With your mum, yes. Your father, well, not exactly. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1971 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body swayed gently with the movement of the Hogwarts Express as you walked up and down the isles, looking for someplace to sit. Most of the carriages were packed tight with large groups made up of upperclassmen not exactly looking to expand their circle.

As you approached the back of the train a mostly empty car caught your eye, occupied only by two children your age, or at least that's what you guessed from their black ties and basic robes that marked them as unsorted first-years like yourself.

One of them was a brooding looking boy with messy, shoulder length black hair and shockingly pale skin, leaning against the wall of the train and halfway through a book that seemed well beyond his years. Sitting across from him was a pretty red-headed girl who was admiring the rapidly passing scenery through the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked, sliding the screen door open.

The boy's brow furrowed, clearly about refuse when the young girl beat him to it.

“Of course not!” she beamed, her smile infectious. You didn't miss the sharp look she shot over to the boy who simply rolled his eyes in response. After you muttered a small 'thanks' she scooted over closer to the window so you could sit next to her.

“My name is Lily,” she said, extending a hand, “Lily Evans.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “I'm (Y/n) (L/n).”

The boy quirked a brow at your last name, his expression shifting to something unreadable as he blatantly studied you over the spine of his book. After letting this go on for some time, you glanced over at Lily.

“Does he speak?”

“Perfectly well, thank you,” the boy said coldly.

Lily sent a disappointed look his way and his heart fell slightly, but he didn't need to be friends with anyone else, and he certainly didn't want other people becoming friends with Lily either. An irrational thought, he knew, but it was how his stubborn little brain worked at the time. They didn't need anyone but each other. Wasn't that enough?

In any case, he expected his behavior would be enough to scare you off (it usually worked on other people), but to his complete and utter surprise, you began to laugh. It started off as a light giggle, soon growing into full on laughter. He stared at you in open confusion as you were nearly brought to tears from your fit.

“You're funny,” you stated honestly, managing to speak through your chortles.

The boy was taken completely aback by your candor, actually at a loss for words. Lily joined in the laughter at your simple remark.

“So you do talk, I guess you must have a name too, then,” you said teasingly.

He blinked once. Twice.

“. . . Severus Snape.”

“That's a cool name.”

The heat that crept onto the boy's face surprised no one more than himself, and he buried himself in his book quickly to hide it. Another surprisingly frank statement from you, and not one he'd ever heard before.

If he thought you were full of surprises then, he had no idea what was coming to him.

_____________________________________________________________

The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, it was immediately intrigued.

“Now here's an odd one,” it chuckled, “loyal, compassionate, empathetic, and yet a razor wit. A calculating, ambitious mind, and yet a relentless sense of adventure. All this, and with your bloodline to take into account as well. Your family has quite the history here, (L/n).”

Hushed whispers fell across the Great Hall among the older students and even some of the faculty at the hat's words, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Though, I sense a different sort of mentality in you,” the hat continued, “you desire to challenge the old ways,” it paused for some time before going on, “do you truly have no preference, child?”

You were surprised at the question. You knew your family's reputation— it had been ingrained in you from a young age— but that didn't sway you, nor did it scare you. When you really thought about what house you wanted to be in, you truly couldn't think of an answer. It wouldn't change who you were, after all. Whether you donned red, yellow, blue, or green, you stood firmly in the knowledge that you would always be (Y/n) (L/n). Having made up your mind, you shook your head at the hat's question, and although its face was obscured from your view, you could almost sense its grin as it knew you were telling the truth.

“Well then,” it chuckled, “It is truly rare that I get an opportunity such as this. Let's make it interesting, then, shall we? Better be. . . Slytherin!”

Snape sat, slack-jawed, as you bounded over to the applauding Slytherin table and plopped down next to him. You rested your chin atop your folded hands, looking largely unbothered, a glint in your (e/c) eyes. He chuckled under his breath despite himself.

Full of surprises indeed.

___________________________________________________________

Your first encounter with James Potter was of a different sort.

It was the very beginning of your third year when you'd first met him properly. You had a few classes together, and Lily would rant about him constantly pestering her; occasionally you'd see the Gryffindor, along with another unfamiliar boy in his house, sprinting through the corridors, Professor McGonagall not far behind and demanding them to stop. But other than that, you'd never really interacted with him.

Ever since you'd met on the train you and Lily started to hang out more and more, with Snape “begrudgingly” tagging along. The Slytherin had been slow to warm up to you, but you were relentlessly kind and infuriatingly persistent, and eventually he found himself enjoying your little quips and comparatively sunny disposition. By the end of your first year, the three of you were nearly inseparable, and your bond only strengthened throughout your second. But third year is when things started changing.

Snape sat in the shade among the thick, overgrown roots of the old oak tree by the Black Lake, nose deep in an advanced Potions textbook he'd swiped from a fifth year as he waited for you and Lily to return from Transfiguration, the only class you didn't have together. This became your usual spot, with Lily sitting in the grass beside him and you on the branch above him, legs swinging as you absentmindedly sketched in your notebook. A comfortable silence would settle between you, something you'd all grown to enjoy; there was no need for constant conversation, it was enough sometimes to just enjoy each others' presence.

The silence he was reveling in alone, however, was promptly interrupted as rowdy laughter reached Snape's ears. Sure enough, a few figures emerged from the curve of the hill, revealing none other than James Potter, flanked by the curly haired boy he'd been seen running around with earlier along with two other Gryffindors: a short-statured boy with dirty blonde hair and another, taller and leaner, with long scars that ran along his face.

Snape didn't pay them much mind until he realized that they were heading straight for the tree— straight for him. Snape had noticed right away how the Potter boy had tried to befriend Lily as soon as she was sorted into Gryffindor, and it was safe to say he was less than fond of him despite having never really spoken to him before.

“You've got to be joking,” James snickered as he walked up to the tree, looking Snape up and down, “This is the guy Evans has been ditching us to see?”

Severus' eyes narrowed. So now he had a reason not to like him.

“Get lost,” he said, turning back to his book.

“What, you think you're too good to talk to us, huh?” James scoffed at him, clearly miffed.

As if on cue, the curly haired boy snatched the book out of Snape's hands, holding it out of his reach as he fumbled to get it back.

“Toss it, Sirius!” James called out. The boy, who he now knew as Sirius, threw the textbook like a frisbee, and Potter caught it easily.

As Snape angrily rose from his seat to get it back, the two boys continued to throw it between themselves so he couldn't grab it. Fed up, the Slytherin drew his wand but was quickly outmatched.

“Expelliarmus!”

Snape's wand flew out of his hands and straight into Sirius', who held it above his head. Just as the black haired boy jumped up for it, another spell flew towards him, this time from James.

“Winguardium Leviosa!”

Snape grit his teeth, staring helplessly at his wand as it hovered higher and higher out of his reach.

“James, come on, I think that's enough,” the taller boy near the back said.

“Don't be a bore, Remus, we're just having some fun.”

“I-I think he's right, guys.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

While his gaze was trained on his wand a harsh shove threw Snape to the ground, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

“No way, is he really crying?” James taunted.

“He is,” Sirius goaded on, “just look at him snivel.”

“You're right, maybe we should call him Snivelus, it suits him better.”

“Nice one, James.”

Snape winced as he was harshly pulled to his feet by James who sneered at him.

“Come on then, Snivelous. What are you gonna do?”

“Relashio!”

James' eyes widened as he suddenly felt himself repulsed back by some invisible force, his grip on Snape's robes forced to loosen as he was flung backwards. You stared the shocked Gryffindors down, wand at the ready for another spell as you ran to stand between Severus and them.

“Accio!” another voice called out, Snape's book and wand whizzing past their faces and into Lily's hands.

James staggered to his feet, trying to look unbothered by the fact that he'd just been knocked down, and by a spell that he hadn't even heard of yet.

“Look at that, boys,” he said, feigning confidence, “guess Snivelus needs a couple of girls to come to his rescue. You should ditch this loser, Evans.”

Before Lily could lash back, you stepped between them.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

You felt your forehead twitch, itching to smack that smug grin off his face.

It was Sirius who spoke next, recognition filling his gaze.

“Wait, you're the (L/n) kid, aren't you? Well that's just perfect, you two freaks can go study the Unforgivable Curses together.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“You don't know anything,” you said, not lowering your wand, “now get out of here before I knock you down too.”

“Aw, I don't know, Sirius, they're kind of cute all flustered like this,” James smirked.

You felt anger flare up in your chest, and it was Lily's turn to step in for you.

“Leave us alone, James,” she ordered.

When none of them moved you exhaled sharply, taking another step forward.

“Or I can just turn you into a flobberworm instead,” you said, “might be more fitting.”

Sirius laughed off your threat, but you could have sworn you saw a twinge of concern in his eyes as he looked over to the rest of his friends for backup.

“Let's just go, James. Come on,” the one named Remus said, trying to be the voice of reason.

The bespectacled boy frowned, shoving his wand back in his robes.

“Fine,” he said, “they aren't worth it anyways.”

He turned promptly on his heels, Sirius right behind him and Peter scampering after. Remus stayed behind for a moment, regarding you three.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, “really.”

Your brow creased in suspicion, but you nodded, not quite smiling but offering up a neutral expression at least before he turned to catch up with the rest of his group.

“You were kidding about (L/n) being cute, right?” Sirius said as they headed back to the common room. When he was met with silence instead of a clear 'of course I was' he nearly had a stroke.

“Are you kidding, James?” Sirius said incredulously, “They're a Slytherin! They're just another dark arts dabbler who doesn't care about anything but their blood status.”

James only shrugged.

“Normally I'd agree, but they seem different,” he said. When he turned to see Sirius' unwavering expression he sighed, “I was just saying that to get a rise out of 'em. Don't worry, this won't be the last time we mess with them and Snivelus.”

Meanwhile, you were still out sitting by the tree, brushing the grass out of Severus' hair.

“That was amazing, (Y/n),” Lily said, wide-eyed, “How did you manage to learn that spell? And you already learned the worm-morphing jinx too?”

“Sev isn't the only one who's been learning ahead,” you said, “but that worm thing was a total bluff.”

“I didn't need your help,” Snape muttered.

You blinked down at him, shaking your head and unable to fight the smirk that crept onto your face.

“Sure you didn't,” you huffed, helping him up to his feet despite his protests, “don't be so dramatic, we won't tell anyone if that's what you're so worried about. Now come on, we're gonna be late for dinner. If Wilkes hogs all the Yorkshire puddings I'm blaming you entirely.”

Severus said nothing, only taking his book and wand back from Lily before you three walked back to the castle arm in arm, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It seems like so long ago,” you said, reminiscing, “Although I suppose it was, but I don't want to think about that too hard— I'll start to feel old, Merlin forbid.”

Harry's eyes were full of disbelief at your story.

“So you, my mum, and. . . Snape were friends?”

“Believe it or not,” you grinned, “unlikely trio as we were, it just sort of worked somehow.”

Until it didn't, you thought grimly, but forced the thought aside. You could tell by how quiet Harry had gotten that something was bothering him.

“My dad really did that?” he asked quietly.

Your gaze softened and you turned to fully face him.

“He was dumb and immature at the time,” you said, “we all were. There's not much else to be when you're thirteen. Each of us made plenty of mistakes, too many to count. And your mum. . . she was good for him. He always told me that she made him want to be a better person. People can change. In my opinion, there are few things someone can do that makes them truly irredeemable, and your father never came close to doing any of those things.”

You thought it better to mention that Snape probably didn't feel the same way.

“In any case, we should be getting to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch, “if you ever want to hear any other stories about your parents, I've got plenty of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smile brightening his whole face, “yeah, definitely. Thank you.”

As Harry walked off to his room you sighed, making your way as quietly as you could up the creaky stairs. Just as you were about to retreat into your own guest room, your eyes snagged on the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairwell.

You stalled in front of it for a moment, wondering if you were out of your mind or not. When you had unapologetically settled on 'yes', you moved to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. You practically leaped back at the proximity as you were met with Sirius standing in the doorway, stormy eyes wide. He'd shed his leather jacket for the night, leaving him in a dark maroon button up with the top few undone. Your senses were draped with the heady scent of his cologne, and you found yourself grasping at words to say.

When Sirius got over his initial shock he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his curls out of habit.

“I was about to see if you were awake,” he admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

Read chapter 2 here !

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #multi chapter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

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solemnly-mischievous · 3 years

Text

rivalry (d.m. x reader)

You and Draco Malfoy have a rocky relationship, at best. It'd be better to describe it as a rivalry. But all it takes is a bit of fire from your end to finally make him snap.

(AKA: I just really wanted to write an enemies-to-lovers trope for my first fic.)

A/N: Hi! First fic. Hope you like it. :)

Contains: Degradation, slight edging, d/s elements, slight dub-con (but not really; full consent is clearly given), light humiliation

Word count: 3.9K

-----

Normally, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be your favorite class. The spells you learn are fun and useful; Professor Lupin is always a plus, and most importantly, you’re good at the subject—so bloody good, you’ve bested even Hermione and Harry multiple times.

But lately, you’ve been finding yourself dreading the lessons. So much, in fact, that you were half-considering asking Hermione to hex you just to get out of your afternoon class.

Why? It’s a pretty easy answer when you got down to it.

Draco Malfoy.

You’d had an ongoing rivalry with the git since third grade. He’s been terrorizing you and your friends, mostly because of Harry, but along the way the two of you had begun building a personal vendetta.

(He probably hasn’t quite yet forgiven you for hexing him so badly he’d had to stay in the Infirmary for weeks, and you certainly haven’t forgiven him for causing your friends so much grief over the years.)

This year, you’d thought you could try your best to avoid him, with your upcoming N.E.W.T.s and all. But DADA had other plans.

Professor Lupin had begun experimenting with mixing up partners for class—it was, after all, a very hands-on class—and had apparently decided that cross-house interaction would build bonds and skill. His exact words were, “If they’re your friend, you’re gonna go easier on them. In the real world, you never know who you’re fighting with—or against.”

So he’d randomized the name list. You, being Gryffindor, knew immediately you wouldn’t be with any of your closest friends—but you hoped that perhaps you’d be paired with Cedric, or Luna, or anyone but—

“Your partner is Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin informed you when he got to your name, and you immediately make to protest.

“Her?” a voice came just as you complained “Not him”, and the students parted to reveal Draco himself, glaring daggers at you and Lupin.

“Yes, her,” Lupin replied, unruffled. “Now, pair up, everyone. We’re practicing Stunning today.”

That day, you’d fucking limped out of the classroom. Not to say Draco had gotten it easier—he could barely stand after you Disarmed, Stunned, and hit him with a nasty stinger hex just for the sake of it. (You’d gotten detention, but it was worth it.)

Today’s your second class with Malfoy, and you’ve never wanted more to be able to commit violent actions in your life.

“Please,” you whisper to Hermione as your group enter the DADA classroom. “Just one hex. I won’t even go to Pomfrey. No witnesses. You could just Petrify me, if that’s more to your liking.”

She sighs. “I’m not going to Petrify you.”

“’Mione,” you say, scandalized. “I thought we were friends.”

“Pair up, everyone,” Lupin calls out. Your friends shuffle away and you close your eyes, already getting a headache from the thought of—

“Well, well.” That fucking smarmy voice. “If it isn’t Potter’s little friend.”

“If it isn’t Daddy’s boy,” you snap, opening your eyes and glaring at Malfoy, who already has his wand out. “Bugger off, Malfoy.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Draco’s eyes narrow. Clearly, he’s as displeased with the situation as you are. “What are we doing today, then? Can’t wait to knock you down a few notches. Star of the class, my—”

“Patronuses!” Professor Lupin announces from across the room, and your heart soars—Patronuses, you could do that. Harry, months earlier, had taught you how to perfect a corporeal form in exchange for tips on his Astronomy essay. He isn’t here today—maybe you could be the only one in the class to do it.

Lupin continues, “Yes, the Patronus—an essential in the world of Defense magic. We’ll be starting with just the simple basics of it. A strong flick of the wand, and the words ‘Expecto Patronum!’. Say it with me, everyone.”

You chorus the words obediently along with the class, Malfoy’s snort of derision not going unnoticed.

“Good. Good, good, now—the key to the Patronus is to think of a happy memory. It has to be strong. Remember, Dementors feed on misery—it’s the only way to keep them away. Now, go practice. I’ll be walking around to see if there’s any problems.”

“Expecto Patronom,” Malfoy repeats in a mocking voice once the classroom starts filling with the chants of fellow students. “Doesn’t Potter know how to do that one? Heard he can do a deer. Pretty weak animal if you ask me—”

“A stag,” you correct. “And it’s Patronum, not Patronom.”

He glares at you again. “Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Certainly smarter than you are.” You glance at him. “Though that’s not saying much, is it?”

You give Fred Weasley, who’d circled around to hear the conversation, a not-discreet fist-bump.

“Alright then.” Malfoy spits out your last name, trying to provoke you. “Let’s see you do it.”

“You try,” you suggest, hiding your smirk. “Unless you’re too scared.”

Draco grits his teeth. Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he brandishes his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

A thin, wispy light appears at the end of his wand—weak, but clearly visible. Classmates around you murmur as they notice it, and Professor Lupin beams as he sees Draco’s doing. “Very good, Draco! A fantastic start.”

Draco flicks his wand smugly and the Patronus charm dissipates. He smirks, shooting you an expectant look.

You take out your wand, feeling its familiar grip, and you close your eyes. You recall the memory of a weekend in Hogsmeade with your friends, drinking Butterbeer as you stroll through the snowy village, pointing out the shops and people. Unconsciously, you smile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Light blazes so bright you can see it under closed eyes, and you open them to find a glowing golden retriever prancing out the end of your wand. It bounds around in the air joyfully, leaving a trail of light where it leaps, and circles the classroom, eventually coming back to you and wagging its tail.

Professor Lupin is grinning, utterly delighted as he takes in your Patronus. Calling your name, he exclaims, “That is phenomenal—you’ve learned fast. Very impressive job!”

You smile back, and your Patronus glows lighter in response. You quickly call it off, the light being a bit too much, and the rest of the class passes by in a haze of awed murmurs and classmates asking your advice on their spellwork. You become so preoccupied, you don’t even notice Draco’s unrelenting stare on your back.

The class ends fast, the bell tolling to signify the start of what would be a study period for you. As students trail out of the classroom, chattering happily, Professor Lupin calls you over.

“Listen, I want you to know that what you did today was truly impressive,” he says, seriously. “I assume Harry laid out the groundwork, yes?”

You nod. He smiles. “You and Harry both are very accomplished students, then. But truly—I doubt many Aurors could’ve managed what you did today.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Your words are sincere.

“My pleasure.” Professor Lupin shoots you an apologetic look. “Now, I’m terribly sorry, but I have off-grounds business to attend to—would you mind setting the classroom to rights? I’m afraid I had to push the desks and chairs back for our class, but I don’t have time to put them back. I’ll write you a note, if you—”

“Oh, no, Professor, don’t worry, it’s a study period. I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you,” he says, relieved, already heading out the door. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll bring chocolate to compensate!”

“Goodbye, Professor!” you call, and he echoes it, and then he’s gone. You look around the classroom, seeing all the desks in the back, and you crack your knuckles. Time to get to work.

“Well. Quite the teacher’s pet, aren’t we?”

Merlin’s fucking beard.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” you mutter, turning around to find him leaning against the classroom doorframe. His blond hair glints silver in the sunlight, and his entire outline—his uniform, his stance, his dark gaze—is just… honestly, unfairly attractive.

So maybe your first impression of Draco Malfoy, years ago, wasn’t that he was a self-entitled git. Maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

And maybe that feeling never went away.

Not that you’d let him know that.

“What are you doing here?”

“Study period.” He starts walking towards you, shutting the door behind him. “Couldn’t help but be curious as to what Lupin wanted with you.”

“What’s it to you?” you snap. Malfoy doesn’t reply.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?” he asks instead, and you blink.

“Me?” you splutter. “Difficult? Fat lot of sense that makes, with you fucking insulting me at every move I make—”

“As I recall, our first interaction was you hexing me in third-year.” Malfoy sounds amused.

“You pushed Harry into the lake,” you snap at him. “You bloody well deserved it.”

Draco laughs. “Good times.”

“Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“You’ve got quite a mouth.”

“My mouth is also capable of jinxing you three ways to Friday, so I suggest you leave me alone, yeah?” Your fingers twitch towards your wand in preparation, and he only looks on with derision.

“I’m just frightened,” Malfoy sneers. You barely notice him slipping off his rings, pocketing them. “Potter taught you that Patronus charm, didn’t he?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’. Just wondering what else he taught you.” A vengeful mood seems to have taken Draco. “You seem to hang out with him an awful lot.”

“It’s called having friends,” you snap right back. He looks as though he’s about to retort, but you push on. “Unfamiliar with the concept? Wouldn’t be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle don’t seem like the best conversationalists, are they? Just a couple of goons. Wonder why you don’t have better friends. Friends you can actually talk to who operate with more than one braincell.”

“Shut—”

“Maybe it’s because no one wants to be near you,” you continue, years of pent up frustration spilling out in a vitriolic spiel. “Because you’re a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to be happy, aren’t you? You drive everyone away and then you go after more because you’re lonely and sad and fucking pathetic—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy repeats with a vehemence.

“—and it’s too fucking late to repair the damage you’ve done—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy snarls, and you stare into his narrowed eyes.

“Fucking make me,” you snap back, and he lunges.

You’re pinned against the wall of the classroom, Malfoy’s wand to your throat and a hand fisting your robes to render you immobile. Draco flicks his wand, ever-so-slightly, and you hear the classroom door lock with a wordless spell.

“Malfoy,” you whisper, but he cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up or I swear you’ll bloody regret it,” he hisses.

“Draco,” you begin, and he curses.

“Fuck it.”

Gripping your robes, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s rough and demanding and you think he’s trying to hurt you, with how much his teeth scrape against your bottom lip and bite down gently, but you’re not pulling away, he’s not pulling away, and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, arching up to meet him—

He breaks away and looks at you, smirking.

“If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to shut your bloody mouth, I’d have done it years ago.”

“Let me go, Malfoy,” you say shakily, but even as he loosens his grip slightly, you show no sign of moving.

“If you’d wanted to leave you’d have Stunned me long ago,” he states, truthfully. Your wand is fully in reach. You know how to do wordless spells. And yet you let him kiss you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, still not moving.

“I think, perhaps,” Draco murmurs, glancing down at your body, “you’re enjoying this.”

“No,” you argue, and his wand digs into your neck—not enough to hurt but enough to register.

“Shh,” Draco hushes, almost condescendingly. “Be quiet, now. That’s a good girl.”

Involuntarily, you shudder at his words. They made your legs weak, and you fight off the urge to audibly whimper—what the hell’s gotten into you?

Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he hasn’t noticed.

Of fucking course he notices.

“Oh?” The shit-eating smirk on his face is enough to make you glare absolute daggers at him. “Don’t give me that. You shivered. You liked it.”

“Shut up,” you say again, with no real strength.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl, sweetheart?” he teases cruelly, and you have to close your eyes to fight off the blush. It doesn’t work, and your face grows hot with embarrassment and arousal.

“Dear me,” Draco says mockingly. “What happened to the spitfire from minutes ago, hm? Still feeling like saying those words to me? Still feeling like being bad?”

Inadvertently, you shake your head.

“Who’s pathetic now?” he mocks, grinning, letting his wand trail a cold path down your neck, over your collarbone, until it rests on the top button of your uniform. “May I?”

The question sounds mocking, but he meets your gaze and you know he’s honestly asking for permission. And you give it to him, nodding, even as your blush deepens. Draco undoes your buttons, one by one, with tiny flicks of his wand, until your shirt is fully unbuttoned and you’re exposed to his gaze.

Draco shoves his wand into his belt and pushes your bra out of the way with an almost laughable urgency, getting a full, appreciative look at your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs. “Shame they belong to such a fucking headache, hm?”

You grumble some sort of an insult, and Draco pinches a nipple, which shuts you up effectively. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands trail down to your skirt, and instead of undoing the button he leans down and scoops the fabric up. “Here, be good and useful and hold this for me.”

The indifferent praise and the degradation combined has you obeying immediately, hoisting your skirt up and baring yourself to him, which only adds to an eddying swirl of shame and arousal pooling in your gut. Draco looks at you, stares, really, and it’s with a predatory grin that he reaches over to caress you through your panties.

“Soaked,” he observes, sounding both amused and satisfied. “You always get off this much to being treated like a right slut, then?”

“Draco,” you whine, bucking your hips up into his almost phantom touch. “Come on.”

“Is that how we ask nicely?” Oh, this bloody git. You’ll never be able to look at him again—he’s going to be so fucking smug around you.

When you don’t answer, he withdraws his touch completely, and you make a sound of protest. “No, no, please.”

“Go on.”

“Please touch me,” you try, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so goddamn wet you’re soaking through your panties.

“Not quite,” Draco muses. He’s palming himself through his trousers, and the sight turns you on impossibly more. “Come on, then—convince me.”

“Draco, please touch me,” you beg. One of your hands drift down to your panties but he slaps it away immediately, shooting you a warning look. “Please!”

“Touch you where?” He wants you to say it.

“Touch my cunt, please, Draco, fuck, I’m so wet it hurts,” you beg, and it’s true—you’re aching with arousal, and if he doesn’t touch you within the next few seconds you think you really just might combust. “Please, please touch me, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just touch me.”

“If only the school could see you now,” he sneers, but even he seems to break his self-control and he tugs your panties down harshly, all but ripping them off. “Baring yourself to me and begging to be touched like a whore.”

“I’m not—oh,” you gasp, his fingers pressing into your cunt immediately and his thumb working on your clit, sending waves of pleasure so potent you almost double over. His fingers are long and thin, which is why he can press two in without preamble, and the stretch is barely noticeable.

“You’re not what? A whore?” Draco laughs. “Please. Look at yourself.”

“’m not,” you insist, but you clench around his fingers at his words and he raises an eyebrow.

“I think you’re lying.” He presses a third finger in and you whine, little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips as he works you open. “Quieter, now, or I’ll have to gag you.”

You bite your lip, and Draco thumbs your clit as a reward and incentive. “Now, tell me what you are. Be truthful, or I won’t fuck you. I’ll leave, leave you here with your shirt hanging open and your skirt up, the doors wide open. Maybe the next bloke who stumbles in might help you.”

Your eyes widen—he wouldn’t. But his gaze is dead serious. “Say it.”

“I’m a whore,” you breathe, and he thrusts his fingers into you, hitting that right spot. “Draco!”

“Say it louder,” he orders, angling his fingers and curling them.

“I’m a whore,” you moan out, bucking your hips upwards—you’re close, you’re so close. “Draco, I—”

He stops moving, and his other hand pinches your clit harshly. “No.”

You let out a gasp of shock and hurt, reeling from the denial and pleasure. “But—”

“You’re not fucking coming until I say so,” Draco hisses, undoing his belt and pushing his trousers down. “And I’m not saying so until I properly fuck you into a bloody wreck.”

His cock is already hard, and he positions himself right at your entrance. You can feel him, his tip pressed against your wetness, but not pushing in. “Draco—”

“I think,” he muses, and you want to scream, “one day I’ll drag you into a broom closet. Fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for the day. You’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”

“Please—”

“Or I’ll bring you back to my dorm, so I can fuck you until you’re screaming yourself hoarse,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Your dorm works. So long as I can ruin you.”

“Malfoy—”

“Because it’s just so—” and he pushes into you in one swift movement, fucking into you immediately with a fast and rough rhythm, “—fucking nice to see you being a slut for me.”

“Fuck!” You grind your hips along with his rhythm, feeling the tightness of your cunt around his cock, and you clench as he hits your sweet spot with the right angle, almost shaking with the pleasure that it gives you.

Draco groans your name, fucking you brutally as he chases his own release, already pent-up from the teasing and the sight of your wrecked state. “’m gonna come on your tits, would you like that? Get it all fucking messy, maybe get some into your mouth, get you fucking ruined?”

“Please, please, fuck, please let me come,” you plead him, feeling your impending orgasm barrel towards you—you couldn’t last, you can’t fucking last—

“Fucking hold it,” Draco snaps. “Hold it like a good fucking girl, you understand?”

You let out a mournful sound, but you nod—yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please—

“Salazar, I’m fucking close,” Malfoy breathes into your ear, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good, love, so bloody tight.”

“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. Draco exhales shakily and curses, pulling out and pushing you to your knees with such a force that you drop down, your skirt being the only padding.

“Wh—?” you try to ask, but Draco is already pumping his cock and then he’s coming all over your face, some of it dripping down to paint your breasts as he’d promised. Draco leans down to gather some release on a finger and pushes it into your mouth, eyes darkening as you suck and swallow around it.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you almost come right there.

“Draco, please,” you beg, still on your knees and still absolutely fucking desperate for release that he’s been denying you for the past half hour. “Please let me—”

“Alright, spread your legs, c’mon,” Draco guides, and you obey and then he’s there, thumb rubbing steady circles around your clit and two fingers pushing inside you once more. You whine and grind into his fingers, his touch, hips following his movement as he pushes you closer—closer—

“Fuck!” you sob as he senses your impending orgasm and stills his hand. “No—no, why?”

You sound like a petulant child and Draco laughs at you, and it’s an unfair move and a mean sound but it somehow turns you on even more. “I’m just messing, sweetheart.”

Fuck you, you badly want to say, but somehow you feel like that won’t get you what you want.

Draco starts moving again, his fingers gaining speed, and the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked cunt sounds delightfully dirty. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, and amidst your pleasure you eye Draco distrustfully.

“Please,” you whisper, and he smirks at you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And he thumbs your clit and you’re coming, gasping with the pleasure and shaking as he eases you through it. His fingers don’t stop moving, even after your orgasm has faded, and you squirm in discomfort as he overstimulates you.

“Stop—please—”

“Promise me you won’t be a bloody pain again,” Draco levels at you, and you want to glare back but his fingers curl inside of you and you yelp with pleasure and pain. “Promise me, or I’ll keep going.”

“I—I won’t be a pain,” you mumble, trying to squeeze your thighs together to get rid of his touch, but he perseveres, flicking your clit mercilessly.

“Say you’ll be good.”

“I’ll be good,” you manage, so close to sobbing from the frustration. “Please, Draco, I’ll be good, be good for you, please stop.”

He relents and you feel him draw his hand back. You close your eyes and you hear him tug his trousers back on, buckling his belt. You feel strangely empty without him—without his fingers, his cock, his touch.

Draco produces a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat, drool, and cum off your face, helping you button your shirt back up as well. “You alright?”

“Never better,” you reply, opening your eyes to see him staring at you in concern, all traces of the cruel tease earlier gone. Outside, the sun is setting, casting orange hues into the classroom, and you suddenly remember. “I—oh, bloody hell, I have to arrange the desks for Lupin—”

“I’ll do it. Stay here.”

Draco stands up and takes out his wand, flicking it twice in quick succession. A wordless spell. As you watch, the desks and chairs slide back to where they used to be, neatly arranging themselves in rows.

You’re impressed as he comes back. “What spell is—hey!”

He’s flicked his wand once more and torn your panties clean off your legs.

“Draco—what in Merlin—”

“A souvenir.” Malfoy smirks, stuffing your soaked panties into the pocket of his trousers. “And payment for the desks.”

“You’re a bloody prick,” you say, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Careful now, love. Remember what you promised.” Draco’s tone is playful, but warning. “I’m a man of my word, so you should choose yours carefully. Next time I won’t be as gentle.”

Caught off-guard, you can only nod obediently, which seems to please him. But you can’t promise you won’t slip back into old habits the very next day. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—there would almost certainly be a next time.

------

Requests & asks are open! Here is the guide on requests, if you'd like to check that out first. Hope you enjoyed!

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco x y/n #harry potter #golden era #hp #draco imagine #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco x you #draco oneshot

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juuuuliee · 3 years

Note

glad to hear you're okay! i'm fine, just getting back to school after a way too short holiday ;)

could i then request a James x reader, where they have to hide in the greenhouses from the rain and it leads to him confessing his love because he cannot keep it in anymore??

Really, Really

A/n: Thanks for the request, dev... don't stress too much about school, you can do it :) I Hope you like it!

Wordcount: 1200

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Genre: fluff

Warning: self-doubt

It was raining. Not the kind of rain that just happened to be there. It was the kind of rain where dark clouds stretched across the sky and all your clothes, no matter how rain gauge they were, got wet to the skin. It was the kind of rain where the drops on your skin sometimes hurt and they ran down your neck, down your back.

The ground Y/N walked on had long since ceased to be a real path. So maybe it used to be, but right now it was more like a mud slide. She had just come from Hagrid's hood, visiting him. Her cloak, which she had still tried to protect somehow with the umbrella Hagrid had lent her, was just hanging down on her shoulders, she was also just carrying the umbrella, since it couldn't defend itself against the strong wind that made the whipping willow whip even more than usual.

"Y/N!" she heard a voice behind her and turned around, startled.

"James?" she called out questioningly to the familiar voice and figure, "What are you doing here?

The boy, who had just reached her, a little out of breath, in Quiditch clothes, ran his hand through his hair, which was soaked and still tousled.

"Why were you playing Quiditch? It's raining cats and dogs!"

"I noticed that too, silly!

"Shut up, James, and come with me. My immune system isn't that great and I don't want to catch a cold,'' she said to the boy and turned around, heading for the castle, still about 15 minutes away.

They continued to walk along the muddy path, but only progressed at a snail's pace, as James kept tripping over his own feet.

"James, there's no point in you flying there all the time. We're not getting anywhere like this."

"Do you think I'm doing this on purpose?"

"Well, can I remind you of the first year where you and Sirius played piglet and got down in the mud to make it more realistic?''

"We weren't playing piglets!" exclaimed James indignantly and Y/N laughed.

''Remus told me you guys made Peter dump mud all over you.''

"We just wanted to know what it was like to be an animal..." muttered James and she grinned.

"Of course you did," she said with a giggle and tried to get up a small ledge, but she also slipped.

"Who fell down now?" James teased her and she rolled her eyes, completely ignoring his remark: "We can't get up here."

"Then let's go to the greenhouse over there, maybe it'll stop raining in a minute. "

He pointed to the greenhouse, which was hard to see in the rain, about half a mile away.

Nodding, Y/n started walking in the direction of the house and Jams followed. The clouds had already become lighter, the rain no longer lashing but falling normally. It smelled like wet grass and mud.

Water flowed, like a small stream down the path and partly formed into puddles . Arriving at the greenhouse, James opened the thin and rather frail door. Inside the greenhouse it was stuffy and wet on the floor.

The pattering on the roof sounded like a quiet melody and Y/N sat down on one of the chairs next to a flower pot. She dried herself a bit with her wand and welcomed the warmth that hit her body.

She looked at James, who had sat down on a stool next to her, doing the same but with his hair. She laughed at the boy's typical behavior and he grinned at her.

He had a beautiful smile. He had the kind of smile where little dimples formed on the sides of his mouth that managers only noticed if you looked closer.

He had the kind of smile where his eyes got smaller, but somehow still shone. He had that damn beautiful smile that made you forget where you were and who you were. He had the kind of smile that somehow made everything okay again.

"What were you doing out there anyway?" James asked her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"I was with Hagrid, and you? Why do you have to train in this weather?" she asked back.

"We are playing against Slytherin this weekend. I'm going to kick Mulciber's ass, you better believe it! It's the last game before the vacations and I had to improve the team's lineup, you know, Vivian has improved, especially on the outposts...''

From that moment on, James didn't stop talking at all and Y/n already didn't listen since he said Mulciber's name. She only heard the voice

"Mudblood, mudblood!''

"You have no business here, you little mudblood! As soon as we are out of here, we will get our hands on you. Then even your little friends won't be able to protect you!''

" Y/n? Y/n, are you okay?" James asked worriedly, and she only now realized that her breathing was labored and tears had formed in her eyes. She just shook her head.

" I have no place here, James. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. I'm a muggle!. I don't belong here, I really don't. I am here, but it sometimes feels like everything is breaking. Everything- Everything I've believed in at one point and will believe in... It doesn't make sense! The war, the battle, the hate! I could avoid it and just never come back. I'm even part of the blame, after all. It's not right. I-''

" Stop it, Y/n! Just stop it!"' James interrupted her and she looked at him, startled

''Stop talking about yourself like that. You have no idea how much you are worth because you don't see all that. Many don't, many don't see who they are and what is "beautiful" about them and they don't have to. But it's important that people tell them that they are worth something, that their laughter is more beautiful than anything I've ever seen, and that their subtlety is incredibly fascinating. That you are who you are and you are beautiful the way you are because I think you are so beautiful. And that you are loved. Really, truly loved. And you will be forever. And maybe I regret saying it, but I really, really love you. Not just in the way that I like you, but that I look at you and everything is okay. Not that I find you beautiful, but that I find you beautiful inside and out. And most of all, because you make comments about the muggle world and teach me all kinds of things. I really, really love you, y/n.''

He was out of breath and had stood while he talked.

He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

Repeated Y/n over and over in her head, smiling she looked at him.

"I really, really love you too, James," she said with a grin, standing up and walking a bit towards James, She brushed mud from his face and giggled .

"Really, really," she whispered before standing on her tiptoes and closing the gap between them.

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #marauders x reader fluff #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader #james potter imagine #james potter #marauders era #james potter x you #marauders fic #harry potter #james potter fic #james potter one shot

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years

Note

Hello! Im glad i made it on time for request! T^TI would like to request a chishiya x female reader. Where the female reader is strong and intelligent and chishiya just basically falls in love with her. He tries to get close with but apparently reader doesn't live in beach she lives in her own homemade house. So chishiya tries really hard to find her.

Of course, here you go! 🥰

Search | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya

Summary: Chishiya searches all through Tokyo to find you, who he met at a game and fell for instantly.

Warnings: swearing, somewhat creepy behaviour from Chishiya, violence

Word Count: 2.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: sorry I closed requests for so long! They’re open again now for a few days so please send in anything you want me to write! ❤

The dark streets of Tokyo echoed the sounds of the wind travelling through the trees. The silence that filled the atmosphere was deafening, leaving Chishiya to nothing but his wandering thoughts that pottered so carelessly through his head. The occasional cry of a crow kept him grounded, always bringing him back to the reality that was in front of him.

The young man was taking yet another attempt of finding the peculiar and alluring figure that he had encountered at many games. No one had ever taken his interest as much as this, and even if they had, he would’ve given up at finding them for the fact that they live in the huge empty wasteland that is Tokyo. Any nook and cranny could have the chance of being your home, but Chishiya was determined to find you. He didn’t have anything else to do anyway. But now that he’s taken interest in you, he finally has something to work towards rather than just waiting around to die at The Beach.

He strolled effortlessly through the Shibuya crossing, recognizing the place from when he was first thrown into the game, always returning to the large open area to use as a safe space. Even after being in the game for as long as he had, it still felt foreign to see not a single soul crossing the road, very unlike usual Tokyo.

The only source of light he had to assist him was a small torch he took from The Beach and the occasional game sign pointing to some late running games. He felt unsettled every time he entered an area where no light was available, and the silence didn’t help.

“Tch,” he scoffed to himself, rubbing his sleeves over his eyes to keep them from dropping from how tired he was. He had been at it for weeks, not even getting the slightest clue where you stayed in the huge city.

“This is ridiculous, as if I haven’t found her yet.” He was becoming more and more frustrated as each night dragged on. All he wanted was to meet you in person that wasn’t in the registration section of a game, where he wasn’t even sure either of you would leave alive.

After being saved by you during a hearts game, Chishiya developed an irrational attraction to your selfless and strong demeanour. He admired the fact that you managed to look after yourself and others at the same time, always thinking of an intelligent way to make sure that everyone survived. He was impressed and taken back, for he had never met or encountered anyone like you.

Chishiya strutted over to a large building near the Shibuya crossing that displayed a screen pointing towards a game. He had to sit down for a while, he had been walking for hours and his legs were beginning to hurt. He shivered and pulled his hoodie tighter around him as he walked through the entrance of the building to find that place nearly trashed all through. Obviously some people had attempted to search the building for resources to assist in their survival.

He slowly made his way further into the building, being mindful of the shards of glass and other debris that scattered the floor. The last thing he wanted was the trip of something and ended up with sharp glass shards in his back.

Chishiya entered a large room that almost seemed untouched. Much unlike the other rooms, this room was clean and no furniture was turned over. He frowned, wondering why no one had bothered to search this room.

“Huh, must have missed it,” he answered his own question. He walked to the centre of the room and sat on a small brown couch that was placed there, rather inconveniently. The layout of the room was very scattered and random resources such as water bottles and empty cans of beans and tuna were laying around on every surface.

The cans of food looked awfully too clean to have been left there for long. The leftover specs of food remaining appeared fresh, and the smell of tuna was far from smelling off. Chishiya moved his tired eyes around the room, trying to find any more evidence of someone being there recently. His eyes locked on a small pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, all bunched up together to create a comfy nest almost.

The pile seemed a bit too lumpy to be holding only blankets, so Chishiya’s curiosity got the better of him and he stood slowly to make his way over to the makeshift bed. He thought maybe someone was hiding some more food underneath it, probably planning to return some other time to collect them.

He kneeled down next to the pile, scanning the small space. His eyes widened as he saw the blanket move, slowly lifting up and down incredibly slightly. He almost stepped back in shock, but decided against it and lifted his hand slowly to lift the duvet.

He grasped the soft material and carefully pulled it back towards himself. His breath became caught in his throat when he locked eyes with what was underneath it.

There you laid, peacefully sleeping and tucked into yourself. Your legs were folded and against your torso with your arms lying lazily next to your head. You looked so vulnerable and small, especially since Chishiya just found you hiding from the world underneath a blanket. He assumed that you covered yourself so if someone was to find your hiding space, they wouldn’t see you and potentially hurt you.

Chishiya couldn’t help himself. After seeing you become so aggressive and resilient in games, seeing you so calm and at peace pulled at his heart strings. He knew it was wrong, intruding on you while you weren’t aware he was even there, but he knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

His heart hurt from the sight of you holding yourself in a tight ball, obviously being anxious that something would happen while you were asleep. He pouted and tilted his head, examining you closely.

“So pretty,” he whispered. But just as the words left his mouth, his stomach dropped when he saw your eyes snap open and lock directly onto him.

Before he could even think, you had swung a fist at his face, punching him square in the jaw, making him yell in pain as he backed away while squatting on his legs so he could get up and run if he had to. He held his face in his hands, trying to reduce the pain throbbing in his jaw.

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, standing up out of your bundle of blankets. “Fucking creep! Piss off!”

Chishiya groaned and glanced up towards you, noticing that you were now standing over his meek body on the ground. You held a small knife in your hands, pointing the sharp object towards him in case he made any sudden movements.

Chishiya’s usual smug smirk crawled onto his face, making your frown more as he stood up slowly, hands held up in surrender. “Wow, feisty,” he chuckled.

Your angry expression softened and you lowered your weapon slightly as the bright moonlight shined through the window and painted across Chishiya’s face. You immediately recognized him as the young, white-haired man that always assisted you at games. But what was he doing here?

“What do you want?” you glowered, taking a few threatening steps towards him. Chishiya raised his eyebrows, but kept his composed behaviour as your weapon pressed lightly on his chest, making him wince slightly as the sharp point pierced his skin through his white shirt.

“Rude. I don’t even get a hello? A how are you? All I get is a knife in my face,” he smugly responded. “You did that to yourself by watching me sleep like a fucking stalker,” you hissed, leaning your face closer to his.

“I guess so,” he sneered. “By the way, I wouldn’t kill me if you were considering it. Trust me, I’m not on my own.”

You felt ridiculed by his calm behaviour, hating how he didn’t seem threatened by you at all. Out of all the people you’ve scared off, why did this skinny, short man have more nerve than anyone else?

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you reassured. You pulled back your knife slightly, but still kept it drawn in your hand in case he tried anything. You may have met him a few times in games, but trust was very hard to earn from anyone in the Borderlands.

“So, Y/N,” he started. “I’ve been searching for you for a while now. I’m glad I’ve finally found you.”

You scowled at his words. “Me? What could someone like you possibly want from me?” You watched as his pink lips curled up into a smirk, making you cringe slightly.

Chishiya turned away from you and strolled back over to the brown lounge in the middle of the room. He leaned comfortably on the back of it, facing you again. You had lowered your knife, feeling reassured now that he was further away.

“I’ve noticed you,” he started, staring holes into your eyes. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “You know how to handle yourself in games, and I can’t help but become a little immersed in your methods.”

The way he spoke gave you a headache. He sounded too smart for his own good, making you question if he was bluffing just to trick you into believing that you were needed, when he would just use you then leave you in the dust.

“Yeah? And what about it?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chishiya looked down to the ground and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I would very much appreciate it if you joined me,” he suggested. “I am staying at a hotel called ‘The Beach’, but everyone there is an idiot. If you are willing to put your trust into me, I promise that I will help you collect all the cards and escape this place.”

You kept your gaze on him, trying to see any sign that he may be lying. If he was lying, he was incredibly good at it.

“What’s the catch?” you asked, fiddling with your knife.

“There is none. Only the fact that I’m asking you to join forces with hundreds of idiotic, drunks that act like children.”

There was a moment of silence before Chishiya continued.

“But I can reassure you, if you stick by me, I will be sure to keep you safe and alive.”

You rolled your eyes at his promise. “I don’t need your protection. Look at you, you’re skin and bones. I can take care of myself.” You turned back to your pile of blankets, lifting them to search for your radio that had become lost in the sheets during the night.

Chishiya thought to himself, trying to think of something to say that would convince you to come back with him to The Beach. He couldn’t downright say that he was in love with you, because it would probably scare you off. If he wanted to have a chance with you, he first had to gain your trust. But that was deemed difficult when he was the shady character that he is.

“There’s food and water at The Beach,” he spoke up, making you freeze in your movements and turn back towards him. “There’s comfy beds and personal rooms, as well as allies and guaranteed protection from militants. If you really want to survive, you’d be best there more than out here by yourself.”

You stared at him before glancing around the room, eyes landing on the scattered cans of food and random dirty clothes everywhere. You would admit, you were lonely, and hungry, and cold.

“What makes me sure I can trust you, Chishiya?” you challenged.

Chishiya stepped away from the sofa and walked over to you, making you stand up from your position on the ground so you were at eye level.

“Because you have no other choice,” he smugly stated, “You’re lucky enough for it to only be me to walk in here and find you. Just think about it, if I can find you, so can a group of murderous people, or starving people, or people desperate for cards.”

He had a good point. You hated that you were falling prey to his manipulation, but if The Beach was even slightly better than the dirt hole you were inhabiting, you were interested enough to at least take a look.

“Okay,” you mumbled, turning away from him and leaning down to pick up the small backpack that laid next to your bed. “I’ll come, but if I find out you’re lying or trying to have me killed, it’ll be your head hanging from a lamppost in Shibuya.”

Chishiya smiled at your threat, not being affected by your violent words. “That’s the kind of talk that will get you killed Y/N,” he warned, turning around and making his way towards the entrance of the building. “Keep that up, you might be the one losing a head.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at his warning.

Chishiya smiled to himself as he stepped out into the cold night air. He could finally relax, knowing he found you and would now be able to keep you in his sight at all times. Even if he had to tell a few fibs to make you come with him, he believes it was worth it, as now he could stay by your side.

He knew it would be a work in progress to earn your trust eventually, but he would make sure that you always trusted him over anyone else.

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland scenarios #alice in borderland one shots #aib #aib imagines #aib imagine #aib one shots #aib scenarios #chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya imagines #chishiya imagine #chishiya one shots #chishiya scenarios #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

#harry potter fanfiction #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley angst #george x y/n #george x reader #george x reader angst #george weasley one shot #the seven potters #deathly hallows #deadly hallows part 1 #hp fic #hp dh

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Mine [F.W.]

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader;

summary: Fred suggests the unmissable proposal to pretend to be dating, but will it work?

warnings: fluffy but i know you all love it;

a/n: forgot to mention but the reader can be from any house (if you are one to believe that students from different houses can stay in other common rooms); again, this is for the A Very Harry Potter Christmas (day 8) with @whack-ed

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

When Fred came to you, three weeks ago, asking for your help, you said yes, because, frankly, it was pretty nice being the one the twins trusted to teach them new rare spells and charms.

However, three weeks ago, Fred didn’t ask for your help with spellcasting. He asked you to date him.

Okay, okay, fake date him. But still dating, so it was a surprise. You gasped for air, unsure of what to say next, unsure of how to continue. You stared at him, involuntarily tilting your head.

And you said yes. Honestly, you didn’t regret it — yet. Fred explained how you two would proceed, and your part came across pretty easy.

You had to smile at him during classes, and toss him notes. He was going to spend more time around you in the library, and you would join him in his and his twin’s pranks. Again, pretty simple stuff.

“And nobody can know?” your whispered echoed in the dark abandoned corridor.

Fred held his wand which had its tip light with Lumos closer to your face. He wanted to be sure you wouldn’t tell anyone about it.

“No one. Not even George,” he whispered back, hoping to sound serious. “That one can’t keep a secret, I’ll tell you that. And he’ll tell her.”

“Her?” you asked before you could hold yourself. When Fred and George asked for your help, and you agreed, you couldn’t ask questions. That was their primary rule, but you were so curious...

“Angelina,” he said her name in a tender whisper and part of you felt jealous. Not of Fred — Godric, no — but of the fact that Angelina had someone like her. And nobody liked you in, what? Forever?

“Is this all for her?” you asked politely, moving your own wand towards the two of you, who, now thinking, were closer than needed in the dim passageway.

Fred gulped. Yeah, he fancied Angelina. George knew. Now, you knew too. But he didn’t like to say it, and he hated when people mentioned, particular because she didn’t like him back.

“So when do we start?” you asked after a moment in silence after Fred refused to confirm he liked the Gryffindor chaser.

Fred’s head rested over your lap while you carelessly ran your fingers through his ginger locks, in one of the opaquest couches available in Gryffindor’s common room.

It wasn’t the first time you two could be found in this position. Although you generally preferred to be the one laying down — you loved when people in general played with your hair —; when Fred walked in you were already sitting, so he was left to be the one to lie down.

Three weeks of fake-dating had gone by, and you couldn’t believe it. At first, the days seemed to be going down slowly, as you had to force interactions with the twin. But after the end of the first week, when Fred met you with the offer to walk around the school holding your hand, the relationship came to be easier to tolerate and the days started going by really fast.

Fake-dating Fred was effortless because Fred was a good friend. That wasn’t much of a surprise — you knew Mrs Weasley had raised her children well — but the fact that he was an exceptional joker and a funny chap was a bonus you weren’t expecting.

He would’ve been a nice first boyfriend if he had been in fact your first boyfriend.

Thankfully, people were buying the relationship with no problem — you even heard Ginny saying it was inevitable. You two didn’t even need to kiss in front of the students for them to believe. Well, you did have to endure some physical contact (like what you were doing right now with his head over your lap), but that was surprisingly rather enjoyable.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Fred asked all of the sudden after Godric knew how long you two had stayed cosy in front of the fire.

“I’m going to Hogsmeade to buy some Christmas presents,” you answered, looking down to meet his gaze. He seemed peaceful and calm when he had your fingers intertwined in his hair. “Wanna come?” you invited him to enjoy your little trip — a corner of your mind remembering that he was allegedly your boyfriend; therefore, he should escort you.

“Sure,” he smiled, but you were almost sure that it was because you moved your fingers and not because he was much excited to Hogsmeade. “Have to buy some myself.”

George spotted you two in the couch, comfortable together — as he was already used to finding you two — and he joined in the conversation.

“Plans for tomorrow?” he asked, sitting down in the sofa next to your left.

“Hogsmeade,” was Fred’s simple reply. You found it super cool how he didn’t even need to get up to know the voice belonged to his twin.

That was another thing being in a sham relationship with Fred made you improve: differentiating Fred from George. Not that three weeks earlier, you were terrible, but you were undoubtedly not the best one for the job. Now, you had no problem at all.

“Oh, perhaps I’ll see you two around,” George smiled, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled back at him, pleased to know that he still liked you even though you supposedly had his twin’s tongue in your mouth often. George didn’t know the truth, obviously, but even so... You wondered how long would take the twin to found out Fred was lying about his love life. “I have a date,” added George, noticing that he should elaborate.

“Wow, Georgie, how nice!” you kept your smile, this time only shaking your head positively so he could know you were genuinely happy.

Fred seemed delighted too, stretching his neck over your lap for just an opportunity to see his twin without having to get up.

“Good luck,” wished Fred. “Although she can’t be pretty as my girl, I hope yours is at least cute.”

You looked down at Fred, meeting his gaze before nudging his head slightly out of your lap. If you two were indeed dating, instead of pushing, you would’ve kissed him — and, oh, the urge to do so was strong, but you reminded yourself that he was just following his act.

George watched your interaction with joy in his eyes. He was happy for his brother for finally finding someone to utterly understand him — and he had other reasons too, but they didn’t matter now.

“You two are so cute, ” George said, before getting up. Fred hadn’t even noticed that his twin was still there — so much he was distracted with your attempt of being embarrassed. Deep down, Fred was acknowledging that more than often, you were managing to truly distract him from his surroundings.

“I’ll leave you two with some privacy,” said George before finally leaving.

You and Fred exchanged looks again, and then both burst into laughter, not believing George honestly had let that out.

“He seems more romantic,” you pointed out, starting to play with Fred’s hair again.

Fred shifted — you felt his body melt at your touch again.

“Perhaps it’s this new girl, ” Fred shrugged. He came off as unable to care deeply when your fingers ran through his scalp.

“I don’t think she’s much new,” you said, thinking more to yourself how George always appeared to be the more romantic of the twins.

“Which one do you think Ginny would like more?” Fred asked, holding what seemed to be two same shirts for you, who had no basic sense of how to tell Quidditch teams apart.

“Which one is she fan of?” you asked, deciding to not mention to Fred that you were terrible with teams.

Fred sighed. “Both,” he replied, knowing deep down that his sister would like any of the shirts, but he just wanted to get her the perfect one.

“Well, I’d pick this one,” you took a loop of faith, pointing to the shirt with your favourite colour. Fred stared at the one you aimed and then smiled, suddenly realizing you had no idea which team was each.

“I’ll go with your suggestion,” he then said, leaving the other shirt behind and heading to the cashier. You were glad he was over with the Quidditch Supplies store — you really had no interest in being there longer than necessary.

To be fair with Fred, he was being a very charming companion in the Hogsmeade trip, and he had even paid you a hot chocolate mug. Since students were bumping with you two all the time, the dating facade was still up and so, he was holding your hand around the village.

It was probably the first time since the whole thing started that you actually felt nervous about making physical contact with Fred. Perhaps it was because this trip (and the Christmas shopping thing) felt too personal, but you couldn’t be sure.

Well, actually, you didn’t want to be sure. You couldn’t have feelings for Fred — period.

“Did you buy everything you wanted?” you asked Fred, a couple of hours later, because you were a bit tired of walking around, pilling up bags of gifts. But you didn’t want to be the one to admit.

“Huh, yes,” he answered, after checking out the bags he held. “Three Broomsticks?”

Shaking your head in an affirmative, you repositioned your own plastic bags while Fred waited for you, with his hand stretched. You swallowed hard a second before you felt the touch of it — although perhaps the high temperature was the fault of the gloves you both wore.

Why the hell could you feel an electric shock when touching him when there were literally layers of tissue separating both of you?

Fred walked in first, holding the door up for you, and, as you walked in, he offered to take your bags himself. You tried to protest, but he was very determined about it, and you were glad to be free of the extra weight.

It was then you saw George, sitting in a table not far away from the entrance. He was laughing cutely because the girl with him had gotten herself a moustache made of butterbeer.

Oh, and the girl was Angelina Johnson.

“Fred?” you called his name, unsure of what to do, but you definitely needed to take Fred away from there. He looked up from the bags on the floor. “Let’s go back to the castle; we can drink butterbeer later.”

Fred frowned, confused with why you changed your mood. “I’ll grab it really fast, [y/n], don’t worry.”

“No, Fred, I want to go back,” you tried to be firm.

“[y/n], nonsense; why...?” but he never finished his question. Instead of focusing on your face as he was doing before, he focused on what was happening behind you.

And behind you, George and Angelina were having the time of their lives.

“Fred?” this time you called his name in a lower voice, scared of what his reaction. Well, or the lack of it, since he seemed frozen in time. “Freddie?”

The ginger boy shook his head as if he was getting rid of a bad taste in his throat. He finally met your eyes, and although he wasn’t exactly smiling, he didn’t look sad either.

“Sure you don’t want that butterbeer?” he asked, surprising you because or a) he was being very mature about the whole Angelina thing or b) he was hiding his feelings.

“Let’s get out of here,” you replied, not allowing him to suggest anything else since you took most of the bags on the floor and opened the door of the pub again.

If George noticed you two had walked in on his date, he never mentioned.

You didn’t stop walking — and hoped Fred was doing the same — until you were back at the train station and inside one to get back to Hogwarts. Since the trip was quick, trains were coming and going all the time, and with a look at your wristwatch, you knew that the next one was leaving in just ten minutes.

It was only when you sat down that you decided to face Fred again, who, unbelievably still had the same expression on: neutral.

“Okay. Can we talk about what we just saw?”

“My twin on a date?” Fred raised a brow, his expression shifting to confusion, but there was no sign of anger on it.

“Your twin on a date with Angelina,” you corrected the boy, turning your whole body to face him. It was comfy because the bags were no longer in your hands, making every move extreme.

“Oh, that.”

“That, Fred. Aren’t you... angry? Disappointed? Anything?” you asked. You were supposed to be handling this calmly, but his lack of emotion was annoying your guts.

“George’s happy, so I’m happy. It’s that simple, actually,” Fred shrugged, avoiding your eyes for the first time that day.

“It’s not simple. You like her, Freddie,” you stated what should’ve been obvious for him.

Fred sighed, shrinking in his cushioned seat. He had been avoiding that talk, and it was not just since he saw his twin with Angelina.

He has been noticing his feelings for Angelina had changed, but he couldn’t point out how it changed, and why it did. He figured it was because of you, but that made no sense in his mind.

You weren’t supposed to be his type. You were nerdy and an avid reader (and read for fun, which he could never understand). You didn’t know anything about Quidditch, so you stayed away from the sport. You thought long before you acted, which was so different from him, who was always more emotion than reason.

Honestly, he didn’t even understand how he managed to keep his friendship with you for so many years. Of course, Fred was grateful to be your friend — after all, you had a questionable sense of humour that always fascinated the ginger, and even though you were afraid of being caught for it, you never denied help to him and his brother when a prank needed.

He knew that something could change in the dynamics of the two of you when he suggested being your fake boyfriend, but he didn’t think that the change would turn the relationship into something so much better.

Fred stared back at you, having no idea of what to say to you. He was afraid of rejection. And this time his fear seemed more potent than anything he ever felt before.

“I don’t like her anymore,” he simply said, still focused on your beautiful eyes.

His answer confused you. “Well, then why are we still dating?”

You noticed when you forgot to add the word “fake” in your sentence, but you were so done with that word that you shook that thought away.

“I don’t know,” Fred sighed, looking down at his hands over his lap.

You stared at him, not being able to believe the guy. You had lost three weeks for a boy that didn’t know what he was doing? Three weeks that you could have invested in finding a real boyfriend?

Your hands reached for your plastic bags, and as soon as the train stopped, you ran out of it.

“[y/n]!” you heard Fred call you, but you didn’t dare look back.

“Didn’t see you and [y/n] in Hogsmeade. Did you guys leave early?” George asked when he sat down next to his twin in the common room.

He had walked Angelina back to her dorm, and he decided to see if his twin was still around. George was never one to brag, but he really needed to vent to someone about how happy he was that he could finally be with the girl he wanted because Fred didn’t fancy her anymore.

Fred looked up to his other half and pressed his lips tight against one another. If he didn’t tell George, he would find out later, and he wouldn’t be happy.

“We broke up,” Fred simply said, biting his nails.

George’s eyes widened as he stared at his twin and he gulped nervously, not knowing how to proceed. His happiness was suddenly gone.

Fred didn’t get over Angie, and, once again, George would’ve to step away, leaving the path over to his twin. Damn it, George told himself, I really thought [y/n] was the one for him.

“Can I ask why?” George was still holding on to his hope.

“She...” Fred started, but he didn’t know if that was the right way to say it. “I...” he corrected himself, but it still sounded off. “Well, we weren’t really dating.”

George raised his brows. How come you weren’t really dating? Thinking about it now, I never saw them kissing, George reminded himself. But the way they looked at each other, the way Fred melts at her touch... How [y/n] blushes when Fred praises her... You two looked like a real couple for George.

“It was one of my stupidest ideas, but I went with it, and now I’ve lost a friend,” Fred complained, staring at his twin, hoping George had a solution. But the younger twin was as lost as Fred. “I was so dumb!”

“Fake-dating is always a dumb idea,” George pointed out, relaxing once again.

So Fred does fancy her, he though. But he screwed up.

It wasn’t like Fred could tell George the real reason behind why he suggested dating to you, but he could spin around the truth.

“I had a reason behind the whole thing, I just wasn’t expecting [y/n] to become more important to me than my initial reason,” explained Fred, sighing.

“I was. I mean, I would’ve,” George said, making Fred stare at him with confusion. “You always seemed to have a thing for her. I don’t know, perhaps just attraction?”

George saw that Fred was still lost, so he continued.

“Like, did you really need her to teach you Aguamenti for that prank on Filch two months ago? We had just learned it with Flitwick,” George used the first example that popped in his mind. “Or when you wanted to prank McGonagall so she would believe you were Dumbledore — you’re gonna tell me you didn’t know how to prepare a Polyjuice Potion?”

Fred gulped, suddenly feeling guilty. His twin was right — he never needed guidance with those simple spells and potions, but he ran for your help at any chance he had. Only now he knew it was because he wanted to be around you.

He reached for one of the cushions over the red couch and screamed on it. George found the scene hilarious.

“I’m screwed!”

It was the Sunday after the Hogsmeade trip, and even though every cell on your body wished to stay in bed, you knew that deep down you had no real reason to be mad and to feel heartbroken.

Your involvement with Fred was fake, and it was bound to be over from the beginning. You, better than all people, should know it. So there was no reason to stay curled up in bed, moaning about it.

But even if you knew you were bound to see Fred around the school, you weren’t expecting him to be outside of your common room entrance, as if he was expecting you to come out.

“Fred?” you had no idea why you said his name in that tone of surprise. Down, you knew he would come looking for you as soon as he had another prank planned.

His face lightened up when he heard his name coming from your lips. After his long talk with his twin last night, he started noticing you did, in fact, have a strong power over him, one that even you didn’t seem aware of.

“We went Christmas shopping yesterday, and I never gave you your gift,” he said, explaining himself, answering the question you didn’t dare ask.

“It’s not Christmas,” you said, a bit too quickly, “yet.”

“But it’s soon to be,” he raised a brow, stepping away from the wall he was leaned in and handing you a small box.

“How come I didn’t see you buy it?”

“Because I can be very sneaky when I want to,” he smiled. It was so easy for him to be happy around you.

“Hm,” his answer didn’t convince you, but you opened the box anyway, finding a beautiful golden necklace inside.

It had a small pendant on it — an initial, his initial. The golden “F” sparkled in your hands.

“Fred, wow,” the jewel made you speechless — you knew Fred wasn’t rich and you were almost sure that it was very expansive. “I can’t accept it, Freddie — we’re not dating anymore.”

Fred stopped your hands with his before you could return the necklace.

“I bought it for you.”

“It has your initial on it,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I hoped to mark you as mine,” he smirked, deciding to be bold about the situation.

“We’re not dating,” you said, swallowing down your wish to forget that detail.

“But do you want to?”

His question echoed in the passageway, but thankfully no one was around to disturb. You stared at the ginger, not believing he could actually be proposing what you heard.

“Fred...” you started, reminding yourself not to panic.

“I lied yesterday on the train. Not about Angelina — I do not fancy her,” he explained himself, stepping closer to you. “I lied about why I didn’t end or fake-relationship earlier. I didn’t do it because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you with someone else, making plans with another boy, holding hands with another guy.”

You gulped, but Fred didn’t seem ready to stop talking.

“I’ve never been as happy as I was during those three weeks you faked liking me,” he continued. “And being away from you will be the death of me. Please don’t turn the school prankster in the school bore,” of course he had to finish his charming speech with some cheeky sentence.

You couldn’t help but giggle, moving closer to him as well.

“I like you too, you idiot,” you smiled, holding tighter the jewel with just one hand.

“So... we’re dating again,” he smirked. “Only this time, I’m allowed to do this.”

Then, tugging you by the waist, he caught your lips in a kiss that would come to be the first of many.

#fred weasley #Fred and George #fred weasley x reader #george and fred #Fred and George Weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley #a very harry potter christmas #harry potter #hp #fred x reader

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proserpina-magnus · 3 years

Note

Hello can I request a James Potter blurb or one shot where he is married to a reader and she comes home from work really tired and sore and he helps her relax?

Love ya

this was a great request and i had so much fun writing it! I didn't know if this was a nsfw request or not, so I decided to make it sfw! I will probably make a part two that involves smut. 🌻 🌼 (also, I love you too!)

Exhausted [ James Potter ]

Word Count: 1839

[ Warning; fem reader, description of soreness/tiredness, slight mention of tits (undressing), undressing in front of James, getting dressed by James, back massages, SOFT JAMES POTTER ]

You shake your keys in the door, finally getting it open. You drop your stuff on the floor, kicking off your shoes with your tired feet. Your back aches, shoulders tightened. You hear James almost sprint through the house to get to the door, he immediately engulfs you in a big hug.

"How was work? I missed you," James is saying quickly, you don't even have time to hug him back as he is pulling away. His big hands place themselves on your shoulder, you almost cry at the feeling. James was sweet, he didn't try to purposely hurt you.

"Exhausting," you say, leaning your forehead onto his shoulder. You smell something cooking, it smelt absolutely delightful. You almost groan at the smell, James was such a good cook.

James pulls you back gently, eyes scanning your face. He sees your tired eyes, the way your lips can't even form into a smile. Your eyes look into his, a gentle look in them.

"What hurts love?" He asks, instantly picking up on your body language. You lean back into his arms, knowing he wouldn't let you fall.

"Everything," you expressed, letting your eyes close. James was kissing your lips gently, he was holding back. He never wanted to hurt you.

"I'll run you a bath, come on," James says, you open your eyes to watch where you're walking. Before you can even take a step, James's arm comes behind your knees as he hosts you up into his chest.

"James, put me down," you tried to sound assertive, but James was bigger and persistent. He walked you to the bathroom.

James didn't respond, only humming a quiet tune. He sets you down on the counter, patting your thigh gently.

He starts the faucet, checking the temperature of the water before nodding to himself reassuringly. He grabs the bubble mixture, pouring it with his heart.

"Bubbles," he mumbled happily, of course, James Potter would have to say 'bubbles' when pouring actual bubbles. He was the absolute cutest.

Once the bath was full, he turns the faucet off. You've already shifted out of your blouse and bra, completely bare except for your bottom.

James's eyes landed on your chest, before adverting them back to your eyes. He had to resist the urge to say "tits", out of respect. He helps you slip out of your skirt and panties, picking you up again.

He places you softly into the bubble bath, the warmth consuming you. You instantly let out an appreciated groan, sinking further into the feeling. Your muscles hurt for a moment, but relax after a few moments.

"Alright Mrs.Potter, you stay here and relax, I'll get you some comfy clothes," James says, leaning down to kiss you. You're surprised he hadn't joined you in the bath, but James always made sure to take care of you before he even thought about himself.

"James, can I wear your red jumper? The one with the deer?" You asked him, James was halfway through the door but he turned back to answer you.

"They're not deer, they're stags! But of course, anything you want," James winked on instinct, a small chuckle slipping past your lips.

You watch as James escapes out of your line of sight, his footsteps disappearing into your bedroom.

You take a moment to relax, tension slipping away. Your body aches for a second before the warm water washes the ache away. You let out a smile, feeling good.

When James returned with your clothes, he placed them down against the counter. Then got out a warm and soft towel, placing it next to your clothes.

"How ya' feeling love?" He asked, sinking onto his knees. His hand came through your hair, brushing it back gently.

"Sore and tired, but the bath is helping. Thank you, James," you say, leaning into his hand. He smiles, continuing to brush your hair between his fingers.

"Don't thank me, it's my responsibility to take care of you, I love you," James explains, he positions you slightly in the middle of the tub. He reaches for a cup, scooping up warm water as he runs it through your hair.

You completely soften at the feeling, your eyes shutting on impulse. A pleasant hum leaves your lips, James places his free hand against your back to keep you upright.

"I love you so much," you gushed, absolutely adoring the attention he was giving you. He handled you so well, it made you feel loved.

James chuckled, kissing the space between your ear and eye. For a few more minutes he washed your hair, then moves to run a cloth over your skin.

He cleans you up slowly, making sure to get every inch of your body. You relax into his hands completely, almost falling asleep.

"Alright, I'm gonna finish dinner. I'll come get you when I'm finished," James says while standing up, tossing the cloth to the hamper.

"What are you making?" You ask, eyes closed as you sink against the tub. Wiggling your toes under the water, smiling to yourself.

"Your favourite," James chimes, a smile on his face as he sees your relaxed state.

"I'm so in love with you," you express, happy that you landed such a wonderful husband.

"I'm so in love with you too, darling," James chuckles, blowing you a small kiss before going to finish supper. The smell travels through the house, making your stomach gurgle.

After minutes of pure relaxation, James walks into the bathroom. He strokes your cheek with his knuckles briefly, a look of adoration on his face.

You drain the tub, standing up tiredly as a soft towel gets wrapped around you. You lean against James, stepping out of the tub with his hand on your back.

James takes another smaller towel, drying your hair briefly and the rest of your body that isn't covered by the towel.

"Will you dress me?" You ask, leaning against the counter as you hold the towel closer around your body. James smiles, kissing your forehead.

"Of course, love," he says, helping you into your panties. This should feel embarrassing, but James makes you feel so safe and comfortable.

"No bra," you say, pushing it away as you drop the towel. James laughs, grabbing the shirt as he tosses the bra back onto the counter.

"Alright, no bra," James comments, helping you into the shirt. It clings slightly to your body, your hair soaking the fabric.

James leans down, pulling the sweat pants up your legs. He tucks the shirt into your pants then pulls his jumper over your body.

"Let's go eat dinner, it's already set on the table," James says, picking you up effortlessly. You let him, leaning your head on his shoulder as he takes you to the table.

He places you in a chair, hot food in front of you. He sits next to you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh.

"This looks delicious James, thank you," you say, taking a bite. It melts into your mouth, making you groan in luxury. "This tastes amazing!" You continued, shoving another piece into your mouth.

"I'm glad you're pleased," James blushes, waving his hand at your compliment. It doesn't take long until the plates are cleared.

James stands up first, taking your used dishes and his. He plops them in the sink, waving his wand, the magic starts to clean.

"Come on," James said, picking you up in his arms again. You wrap your arms around his neck, turning your head to see where he's leading you.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked, James walked down the hall. You could hear the clinking of the dishes being washed.

"To the bedroom, I'll give you a massage," James states, walking into the bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed, you rolled onto your back.

"James I don't need a massage," you say, eyes squinting at him. Your body almost screams at your words, you definitely needed a good massage and James could tell.

"Yes you do and I'm happy to give it to you," James ended the debate quickly, taking your elbow into his hand as he flips you over on your stomach.

James passed you a pillow, making you comfy. You rest your head against it, letting your arms come up to grab the pillow.

His hands came to the top of your shoulders, his fingers pressing into your clothed flesh. You inhaled, feeling the pent-up tension leak further away from you. James continued to massage your body, his palms pressing in places you didn't know you needed release.

"Oh god James," you mumbled, eyes twitching as you feel him press firmly into a certain sore spot.

"See, you needed a massage," James chuckled, continue to work against your muscle. He massaged it until you felt nothing but goosebumps. The massage you were given was making you see stars, your eyes rolled back into your head multiple times.

Hums left your throat, feeling his hands press against your shoulders once again. He rolled his thumb over the intercept between your shoulder and neck. You groaned out, hearing James's small giggles at your response.

After a few moments, you leaned up on your elbows. Your body almost fell back down against the mattress, you felt completely numb.

"No more, I'm gonna fall asleep," you say, breathing in slowly. You pulled away, rubbing your eyes to try and rub the sleep away.

"You sure? Cause I can do this all night," James alleged, he watched as you turned onto your back.

"No, that's okay. Thank you, it felt nice," you mumble, opening up your arms as you made grabby hands to him. James smiled, wrapping you in his strong embrace.

"Your welcome, I'm glad I could help you relax," James cheers, kissing your jaw sweetly. You giggle at the ticklish feeling, you pulled him closer as you wrapped your legs around him.

"I love being married to you," you say, James, pulled back, kissing your cheek sloppily.

"I know, I'm kinda the best," James claimed, gigging. He let his head slip and press against your shoulder blade.

"James shush," you giggled with him, your hand roaming in his bush of hair. It was an absolute mess, tangles and curls everywhere.

"You tired baby?" He asked, pulling back to look at your face. He analyzed your expression, seeing the way you fought to keep your eyes open.

"Mmh," you mumbled, you didn't even make out a word, only a weird little hum. James adored it, finding your tired state cute.

"Go to sleep love," James whispered, using wand-less magic as the lights turned off. Your eyes didn't even get to adjust to the darkroom, you had slipped fast asleep instantly.

James smiled gently, helping you under the covers. He crawled under them himself, bringing your body to his. He rubbed your back gently, slipping his hand under your clothes to feel your skin. He felt content, having his wife asleep in his arms. He felt proud.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader one #marauder x reader #marauder x you #prongs x reader #prongs #james potter fluff #marauder oneshot

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dracosathenaeum · 4 years

Text

Something Precious

Summary: You and Draco realise your feelings for each other when he ends up at the bottom of the Black Lake during the Triwizard tournament that you are a champion for.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

Warnings: Some swear words

Word Count: 2,321

Requested by anon! I hope this meets your expectations 🥺 (I changed the wording slightly, so instead of Treasure, I used precious as it just fitted slightly better here, sorry if it bugs you :3)

“Don’t touch me you filthy little mudblood.” You sighed, why was it always you that had to stand up for the first years. You’d think that by now Draco would’ve gotten used to your scolding and would get bored of picking on the helpless first years.

“Draco! I told you to stop calling the muggle-borns that, lay off the derogatory terms you shit.” You were pretty much the only person (other than the golden trio) that would stand up to Malfoy. But you were however the only one in the school who he would actually listen to. The two of you basically grew up together so you were used to putting up with each other. By now you wondered if Draco only kept picking on the younger years to wind you up.

“I’m just calling them what they are, don’t be upset love.” He said with a wink and his signature smirk. You don’t know when it had started but somewhere along the line, ironic flirting had started between the two of you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it though.

“I’m not upset Draco darling; I simply want you to take that stick on the floor and stick it up your arse.” Draco flushing a deep pink was worth having to call him these ridiculous pet names.

“Thank you, Y/N!” the little Gryffindor squeaked.

“You’re supposed to be courageous right? Malfoy isn’t even scary, he’s very… ferret like.” And with a wink thrown over your shoulder to Draco, you were on your way. You weren’t by any means popular or well-loved by the school, it was more like you had their respect. You were still a Slytherin after all, you just stood up for the ones Draco and other Slytherins were especially cruel to. Simple name calling you could turn a blind eye to but the hexes and use of “mudblood” was just unnecessary.

That was probably why instead of boos, you simply got applauded when your name was pulled from the goblet. You weren’t in it for the ‘eternal glory’ you were just bored at Hogwarts. These deadly tasks sounded like something to get your mind off of everything, besides now that ‘The Chosen One’ was also competing, you had extra motivation to win the whole thing.

That being said… Potter tipping you off about the first task was probably the single worst feeling you’ve ever had in your life. The feeling of owing someone, let alone Potter, a favour. But he had saved your life, without his tip off you don’t know if you could’ve won that task. I mean it was dragons, DRAGONS. But your victory meant firewhiskey parties in the Slytherin common room for a week straight so you wouldn’t complain too much. You definitely kept it to yourself though, the thought of the rest of your house finding out you were saved by Potter made you shudder.

“Surprised you’re still alive Y/L/N, though I suppose someone has to beat Potter. His head is big enough.”

“Don’t look so happy to see me Malfoy.” Sarcasm dripping from you voice.

5 seconds of eye contact was all it took for you to be pulled into his arms, a breathe you didn’t know you were holding finally being released. You allowed yourself a couple seconds to enjoy to be held, it wasn’t often that you and Draco hugged despite having grown up together.

“I’m glad you’re alive Y/N/N, I need someone other than mudbloods to make fun of.”

“Shut up Malfoy, don’t ruin this.”

“Don’t fall in love with me yeah? I know I’m hot but you’re not really my type, though being a pure blood does help.” Smacking his chest, you pulled away from his hold. “God you are insufferable, now help me figure out how to work this stupid egg so I can tell Potter and not have to owe him anymore.” Draco was your one exception to the ‘tell no one that you owe Potter rule’ you set yourself, besides, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He’d find out sooner or later.

You had spent weeks with that egg, trying to figure out how to open it without the deaf-curdling screams. It was only when you convinced Draco to sneak you into the prefect’s bath (nothing in that dingy castle could compare to the prefect’s bath), that you figured it out. Though it took an awful lot longer to decipher it but being even with Potter again made every blood-curdling screech worth it.

The yule ball was a whole other catastrophe. Watching couples slow dance for hours on end sounded like utter hell to you, which is why you practically threw a fit when you were told champions had to lead the first dance.

“Draco stop laughing at me, they want me to dance; they want me, me to hold some guy against me and dance in front of 3 schools. I was content to stand by the food and make fun of the Weasley’s tattered robes or Potter’s awkward dancing but now I actually have to join in? I should just quit now.”

“You fought dragons Y/N; a dance is nothing. Besides we’ve been going to balls for years, you should be used to it by now.” He did have a point, maybe all those long boring parties your parents would throw would finally serve a purpose for you.

“Pansy’s been trying to corner me for weeks, honestly I’d rather slow dance with your flat arse than hers. Besides, then we could make fun of Weasley together.”

You thought it over but not for very long, you knew he’d be the only one you’d willingly go to the ball with, well the only one you could tolerate for so long that is. Besides, the two of you had made it through countless balls together, what’s one more.

“Fine, but you’re buying me a new dress.”

“What? That wasn’t an invitation? I was just joking. Hang on, you have just as much money as me! Pay for your own damn dress.” You turned and made your way to the girl’s dorms, blowing a kiss towards the flustered blonde on the sofa. “Make sure it’s velvet or silk, nothing cheap either, else I’m telling you mother.”

And that’s how the both of you went to the Yule Ball together. Waltzing like you had done for so many years in the Malfoy manor and stuffing your faces, as you made fun of Ron Weasley’s robes and Potter’s pathetically sad looking face. Though you had to admit, Hermione was the focus of the night, no matter how good you looked in the dress Draco got for you, there was no denying all eyes were on her and the Durmstrang champion. As you climbed into the bed that night, a soft smile stretched across your face, the Yule ball wasn’t so bad with Draco as company you supposed.

===========================================================================

Which brought you to where you are now; stood in the freezing cold ready to dive into the equally freezing water. Calming yourself, you ran through your plan again. Cast the bubble-head charm, collect whatever ‘precious item’ Dumbledore was talking about and once you were out you would find Draco Malfoy and kill him. He had promised he would be there to help you prepare the night before; yet you spent the entire evening alone in the Slytherin common room waiting like some bloody girl being stood up.

You knew you weren’t traditional friends (if you could even call yourselves that) but you thought at the very least he’d be there for you when you really needed him. Swimming had never really been your strong point after watching your cousin drown during your childhood, but that was a story for another day. After all these years, you really thought despite everything he’d be with you when you needed him most.

The canon went off, startling you from your thoughts as you quickly cast you charm and dove into the water, taking a second to adjust to the freezing water and calm your nerves. You really should have learnt a body warming spell. You watched as the other 3 swam straight through the village and watched as Fleur was attacked by Grindylows. “Better her than me.” You thought.

You swam through the murky water and eerie village until you reached four figures afloat in the water. You swam toward them and recognised Weasley and Granger straight away, of course the golden trio would be making an appearance even here. Yet it was the mop of blonde hair that made your heart skip. ‘Something precious has been taken from you.’ Draco was your precious something!? You saw a young girl next to him, probably Fleur’s sister. Why was it Draco who was taken? Why wasn’t it your own sister who was just 3 years younger than you? God you were going to get an earful from the both of them after this.

Swimming closer you realised how gaunt he looked, you felt like you’d never truly looked at his face til this moment in time. Not even when slow dancing that night at the Yule Ball. He looked so different yet so similar to when you first met him at the age of 5. Both of your parents cooing as tubby little Malfoy held his tiny hand out to ask you for a dance.

For once he looked peaceful, rather than the sneer he always had at Hogwarts or his blank look at home around his parents and yours.

You slashed his bonds with a nearby rock, deciding to just get out of the water as soon as possible, you couldn’t bear to be in the water with your heart thumping this fast any longer. Turning to give one last look at Potter you could see the disgust on his face as he stared at the unconscious boy in your arms. You threw a glare and the rock at him before swimming away, feeling slightly sorry for the poor French girl left behind.

You were the first to break out of the water, Krum following shortly behind.

“What?? Where am I? Y/N?!” Draco spluttered, coughing the water from his lungs before wrapping an arm around you and keeping the both of you afloat.

“You can ask questions later, I’m exhausted, can you please just swim us back to the stands.” He didn’t need more instructions, knowing you hated the water, he pulled you against him as he swam straight for the closest stands.

Everyone cheered as the both of you were pulled from the water and wrapped in towels. You had won first place but that was the last thing you were thinking about.

“Draco is your precious item? I always knew there was more going on between you two than you admitted!” You could kill Blaise then and there, you decided. Though you supposed the glare you received from Pansy was worth the humiliation, just a little.

“Y/N? What’s Blaise talking about? All I remember is Professor Snape asking to see me last night as I was walking to meet you in the common room and the next thing I know I’m freezing my ass off in the water with you. I mean is it even legal to do this to a student? My father will be hearing about this.” You could barely meet his eyes at this point, you were just as confused as he was, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his last comment.

Did you have feelings for Draco? Sure, you grew up together and had a love-hate relationship the whole time but that was the extent of it. You didn’t like Draco, surely, you’d know right?

“Something precious was taken from each of us, Krum got Granger; Potter, Weasley; and Fleur got her sister. I guess Dumbledore thought your sorry arse was precious to me or something.”

“Oooo does my darling Y/L/N have a crush on me? I thought you- and I quote- hated the sight of my stupid face?”

“In your dreams Malfoy, now shut up I want to hear them announce me as the winner.” In reality you could care less about the announcement, just wanting to change the subject as fast as possible. Your eyes went to Potter, along with everyone elses, as he shot out the water like a bloody dolphin. You would give him credit where credit was due though, saving just Draco was hard enough, Potter had saved both Weasley and the Delacour girl.

“You know, if you wanted me all you had to do was ask? Obviously, I’m very attractive and my father is very important but don’t be intimidated-”

“Shut up you git.” God if he wasn’t going to shut his stupid mouth, you’d make him, one way or another. The ‘other way’ as it happened was you grabbing his face between your palms and pressing your lips to his.

Draco wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. You giggled into the kiss as everyone around you cheered; you didn’t think you were a fan of PDA but after kissing Malfoy, you couldn’t care less. You pulled away and nuzzled yourself into him, the both of you still ice cold from the swim but hearts beating fast.

You never thought you’d get a boyfriend from this tournament but being there in his arms, despite freezing your ass off, you were happier in that moment than you had been in a long time. There was nowhere you’d rather be.

“Be my girlfriend?”

“Shut up and kiss me Malfoy.” You both smiled into the kiss, loving how natural it felt to be with him like this. Completely ignoring the winner’s announcements and instead focusing on how happy you felt.

Life was looking more bearable by the second.

Well until you got killed by Voldemort that is.

I See The Light can be read as a loose sequel describing this moment

#A/N: I literally had the HP wiki page open the entire time, it’s my first time writing a changed story line, something with a proper plot. I hope it was okay, please let me know if I got anything wrong or if something should be improved! Also sorry for the crappy ending :33

Thank you for reading!

Add yourself to my taglist!

#draco #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy x reader #harry potter #triwizard au #triwizard cup #triwizard tournament #Harry Potter fic #Draco Malfoy imagine #draco fic

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Come and sit a while with me

It's been a year since I started all of this, that I wrote a fanfic to celebrate Ginny's birthday, and here I am, posting once again, keeping the tradition <3

This story will deal with grief, suicidal thoughts, but it has a happy ending, I swear

Happy birthday, Ginny.

AO3 | FF. NET | SIYE

----------

It was a normal afternoon at the Potters' house, Ginny wasn't working today and the kids were on vacation, James had gone out with friends, Lily was at the pool with her friends, and she and Albus were enjoying their free time before they had to get ready to go out to dinner and celebrate Ginny's birthday, so they lay on the sofa in the living room, both of them with moisturizing masks on their faces and hair, and the TV on.

The perfect day for her, if she was sincere.

"Mom," Albus muttered, looking at her curiously. "When did you know you loved dad?"

''I always loved your dad.''

''No… when did you know you really love him?'' Albus looked at her, his hair in a bun and his green eyes staring at her in the same way he had since he was born, as if he wanted to know the whole truth, and not half lies. "I mean, when did you look at him and realize he wasn't just another one?"

''Let me see…'' Ginny changed the channel when the movie ended, trying not to smile at the memory. ''I guess I never thought he was just another one, but there was a specific day when I was sure he was the one I wanted to marry…''

August 11, 1998

Ginny loved birthdays, it was simply her favorite date, along with Christmas.

How could anyone not be happy on the day that was entirely and unique to them? Everything revolved around her: the cake, the celebration, the attention, everything. It was her day, the day that Ginny didn't share with anyone, and even though she sometimes felt a bit of a bitch about it, she was glad none of her brothers were born on the same day as her..

She didn't want to have to share this too.

But today wasn't that happy day. Today wasn't sunny and as much as Molly had become more involved in her garden, Ginny's favorite flowers hadn't bloomed in time, as if they knew she was in mourning.

It was the first time that someone would be missing at the party.

Even Charlie called her over the Floo so everyone could sing together and celebrate, but today, it would be eight Weasleys for the first time, not nine. And Ginny didn't know how to deal with that, with that pain that seemed to consume her in every way, and that made her close the bedroom curtains and hide under the covers because she was exhausted.

Exhausted from fighting. Of having to be strong. Not being able to afford the privilege of just crying and admitting it hurt. It hurt a lot. At times it seemed almost impossible to bear. Ginny wanted for the first time in a long while, someone to take over things for her, letting her sleep and cry freely, without judgment, without trying to fix what was broken.

She didn't want a solution.

But she couldn't do that, Molly was doing her best to make this date happy, so that Ginny would realize that there was reason to celebrate, that Fred wouldn't want her to spend all day in her room. She also thought this was unfair, because Fred didn't have to bury one of them, Fred didn't have to go through grief, he never faced that pain, so what would he know?

Ginny knew. She knew what it was like to want to die every day since he died, she was the one who felt this agonizing loneliness that seemed to get bigger every day, she was the one who lay in bed at night and thought she could go crazy at any time because it hurt so much and it was so exhausting.

"May I come in?" A knock on her door made her jump as she tried to hide her dark circles with some of the makeup she had on, and his voice made her curse herself for still being in her pajamas.

''Yes.'' She tried to hide her nervousness because things were still a little awkward between her and Harry, even though she had kissed him a few days after the war ended, on the sofa in the living room in the middle of the night, when her room looked very cold and lonely, and Harry looked so cute wearing plaid pajamas and with his hair cut.

He clearly blamed himself for Fred's death, and Ginny still hadn't gotten over all the latest events: the Carrows' tortures, the war, the deaths, Fred…

Ginny had certain doubts, even though she didn't like to think about it, that they would last.

Maybe they were that couple that everyone looks at and says 'what if life had been different with these two?', figuring they could be something more if there hadn't been so much destruction in their midst.

"Happy birthday." Harry still looked tired, he hadn't regained his weight, but he was already showing signs of improvement, which was good. Ginny was happy to see him look good.

He was wearing the outfit she helped him buy for his birthday when they, Ron and Mione went for a walk in Muggle London. A light blue T-shirt, dark jeans, and black sneakers. A simple outfit, no big deal, but one that seemed to make him look even more handsome, if that was even possible.

The woman who would marry him would be very lucky, Ginny thought.

''Brought it for you.'' She hadn't even noticed that he had his hands behind his back, looking nervous as he showed her a bouquet of honeysuckle, tied with a red satin bow, and a cream-colored card pinned there with his name signed. "I know they're your favorites, and I thought you'd like it." He smiled awkwardly. "I noticed yours didn't bloom this year, and I thought you might want to continue the tradition."

"You didn't have to worry about that." Ginny had to swallow hard to keep from crying in front of him, even though there wasn't a reason to.

"Of course I did, it's your birthday, I want to see you happy." Harry shrugged, his cheeks flushing as if he'd been out in the sun for hours on end. He was so cute, Ginny wished she didn't like him so much, because that way, when their imminent separation came, it wouldn't hurt so much. ''How is your day? I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I think your mom made your favorite cake.''

"It's okay, as far as possible," she shrugged. "Mom is trying to keep me away from the kitchen and all the preparation, so I decided to stay in the bedroom."

''Are you going to be here until party time?'' She thought Harry would start the same speech Hermione gave her when she said she was going to do it, which was the same as Bill and his father: Fred wouldn't like it. Besides, you need to celebrate that you're alive, enjoy life…

Ginny was ready to fight with him, just as she had with the three of them.

"Is there a problem?" Ginny crossed her arms, careful not to crush the flowers.

Harry was bigger than her, but that wouldn't stop her from kicking him out if necessary.

''No. Want company?" Harry looked sincere though. "We can assemble that puzzle you bought, remember?"

''Do you want to stay here? Assembling a puzzle?' Ginny followed Harry as he walked around her room as if the surroundings had been familiar to him for years already, looking for the box on her shelves, which was a total mess of old books, photos and other stuff.

"Of course, it's your day, we'll do whatever you want, ma'am."

August 11, 2021

''How did you know you loved him? Because he wants to assemble a puzzle with you?" Albus asked, no longer paying attention to the TV.

''No and yes. See, unlike everyone else that day, your dad respected my grief. He didn't try to make me go outside, see the bright side of things, nothing. He just stayed there with me, accepting that on that day, I wanted to stay inside my room, putting together a puzzle… He paid attention to the flowers I liked, in the cake." Ginny smiled. "That dawn, after everyone else went to sleep, I finally managed to cry, and son, it's a pain I can't put into words." She swallowed, not wanting to get emotional. ''Over time it gets a little easier, but that year, it was a pain that seemed to tear my chest apart. And do you know what your dad did? He sat with me, hugged me, and listened to me cry for an hour, not saying anything, just standing there by my side.''

The memory was no longer as painful as it had been, and Ginny allowed herself to smile as the image of Harry lying beside her on the bed, his arms around her waist, came back to her mind.

"He never tried to save me, he just stayed there with me, helping me when I needed it, and that was the most important thing."

"He saved you in the chamber," Albus remembered, a mischievous smile on his lips that reminded her of Fred when he was younger. Ginny didn't even know it was possible, but it was always the image that came to her mind when she saw Albus smile like that.

"It was a different situation." She shrugged.

"Did you doubt you would marry him after that day?"

"Never again." And it was true. ''Since that morning, when I woke up and he was still sleeping with me after I cried and sobbed things I don't even remember anymore, I knew he was the one I would marry.'' Ginny touched the ring that was already on her finger for over twenty years now, still smiling like a fool as she remembers the marriage proposal and the marriage itself.

"And why weren't you sure you'd be with him before that?"

''It's not that I wasn't sure, it's just that when you go through something really bad, everything around you seems to fall apart together, it's like nothing else has a solution and you are bound to fail whatever you try. It's a horrible feeling, I hope you never feel that.'' Ginny shifted on the couch to give him a closer look. ''Why this now?''

"Just curiosity." Albus smiled, his cheeks a little flushed. "Happy birthday again, Mom, I love you so much." He kissed her forehead, as she usually did.

''I love you too, my love.''

#hinny #harry x ginny #ginny weasley #harry potter next generation #next gen harry potter #albus severus potter #albus is a cute boy <3 #my fic #happy birthday ginny #harry and ginny

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 8

You come across an old photo book full of untouched memories and decide to go through it with Harry, though there are some things you decide he doesn't need to know and some things you'd rather forget. (Takes place mostly through Marauders era flashbacks)

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

Ch 8 .:Snapshots, Secrets, and Sentimentality:.

“Hey, Harry?” you called out into the living room where said boy was reclined on one of the large charcoal armchairs, “I found something you might want to see.”

His eyes widened behind the round frames of his glasses as you carried over a large, leather bound book that was thick with laminated pages. You sat across from him on the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“We still have a few more hours before the others arrive for the meeting,” you said, “and I don't know when the next time we'll be able to talk like this will be.”

“Wait,” he said before you could open the book, “you aren't staying?”

“I can't,” you smiled at him sadly. A statement that was true for a multitude of reasons you'd rather not get into with your godson. “I wanted to show this to you before I left, though.”

With a wave of your hand the book's pages gently flipped open, revealing a number of old magical photographs. The page you had turned to had a picture of James, and you could see Harry's eyes lock onto it. His father was beaming at the camera, holding up the Quidditch cup as two of his Gryffindor teammates held him up on their shoulders.

“Now you see why everyone always tells you how much you look like him,” you chuckled, “that's him in his fifth year, same as you now.”

Harry stared in wonder at the photo. He really did look like his dad. James was slightly taller, lankier, but he had the same disheveled waves of dark brown hair and boyish grin as Harry. Their faces were nearly identical; except for the eyes, of course.

The photo right next to that one was you wearing a Seeker's crest. You were posed, standing with the rest of your team with a wide smile on your face. Harry's brow furrowed as he spotted an unknown yet somehow familiar boy next to you with curly black hair and light eyes.

“Who is that?” he asked, “he almost looks like—”

“Sirius?” you finished. Harry nodded. “That would make sense,” you said, “that's Regulus, his younger brother.”

“I. . . didn't know he had one,” Harry said in wonder.

“Well, you know he doesn't talk about his family often.”

“Right. . .” Harry trailed off for a moment, “but you knew him? His brother?”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a tug at your heart, “We were friends, for a while.” Your eyes subconsciously looked up towards his room which now stood empty. “He, um. . . he died, some time ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not knowing what to say, “I'm sorry. . .”

You gave him a small smile in thanks, trying to shrug off the grim feeling the memories brought up as you turned the page of the book to the next.

This photograph was one that was moving— you and James in your Quidditch captain's uniforms. He was reaching over, ruffling your hair while you were ducking to avoid him, pushing his face away and turning his glasses askew despite the grin on your face.

“We both became team captains in year six,” you said, smiling fondly at the picture, “we'd squared off as Seekers the year prior, so it was only natural. You were already playing Seeker your first year, weren't you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said bashfully, “although my first time catching the snitch was bit rough to say the least.” You laughed at that, recalling the time he told you the story of how he had caught the snitch with his mouth his first match.

“You take after your father, for sure,” you said, “he was always a creative flier; came up with all sorts of purposefully confusing strategies as captain. By the time the other team figured out what he was doing, he'd have already caught the snitch and the match would be set.”

Harry felt pride fill his chest at your words, glad he was taking on his father's good qualities.

“So you were a Seeker your fifth year and played until you graduated,” he recalled, “but I thought you said you played Chaser before?”

“Well, sort of?” you admitted, “Not officially. My introduction to the game was unconventional, to say the least. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James and Sirius huddled with the rest of the Gryffindor team on the Quidditch pitch, gearing up for the match. The energy around them was electric, the stands packed with students and faculty from every house.

“Remember, keep to the left,” Halls, their team captain, said sternly, “and take advantage of Parkinson's blind spot. If Rollins and the rest of the Chasers start scoring above 40 before halftime, we'll go in for the Pincer.”

Sirius nodded, determined to win this match. It was the first one of the season, so a lot was riding on this. However, his attention was diverted as the crowd's cheers suddenly grew louder. The Slytherin team had arrived on the field, marching towards them. Something Sirius didn't expect to see, however, was you, dressed in Chaser's robes next to his brother.

“What are they doing here?” Sirius scoffed as he spotted you, “they're not even on the team!”

“Rollins took a spill last practice,” Vanity said as she stepped forward. The Slytherin captain had a wicked grin on her face, “(L/n)'s a last minute replacement. Don't bother trying to argue, I've already cleared it with Madame Hooch.”

“Convenient of you to tell us ahead of time,” Halls' eyes narrowed.

“Is there a part of 'last minute' that escapes your understanding?” Vanity rolled her eyes.

“Well, no matter,” Halls said, “you've lost your best Chaser, we don't have anything to worry about.”

“That classic Gryffindor confidence,” Vanity smirked, “we'll see about that. I don't choose just anyone to fill in.”

Halls scoffed as Vanity turned on her heels, not bothering to look back.

“Seems you've found yourself another game to lose, (L/n),” James smirked at you.

“Have I?” you arched a brow, “what's our score now? 10-9?”

“10-10 since I got you with that scalene water in the Prefect's bathroom,” James reminded you, “how was being half fish for a day?”

“Marvelous, felt just like you,” you quipped.

“Settle down, everyone,” Madame Hooch said, stepping out onto the field, “Potter, (L/n), I know you two have taken to pranks on each other in class, but I don't want to see a lick of that up in the air, understood?”

“Perfectly,” you said, a smirk sneaking onto your face as you mounted your broom.

“Wouldn't dream of it, professor,” James said with sarcastic flair.

Sirius eyed you cautiously. Gryffindor had flying class with Hufflepuff, so they'd never actually seen you fly before, but there was no doubt that if Vanity approved of you, you had to pose some kind of threat.

“Take your marks,” Hooch said, and you rose off the ground in unison, staring each other down. “Let the match begin!” With a strong, well placed kick, the Quidditch case was thrown open to release the bludgers and the snitch, and as she threw the quaffle up in the air you lunged forward into a dive. You were just about to grab the ball when a blur of red and gold nearly knocked you off your broom.

“Potter has the Quaffle!” Kingston commentated from the box, “he passes to Longbottom, who evades Catchlove and Regulus Black. Longbottom scores! The first ten points go to Gryffindor!”

The patrons in the red and gold stands went wild, the roar deafening in your ears. This was definitely different from flying class. You had to get it together.

The hair on the back of your neck suddenly stood straight up when something whizzed right past your head as you barely moved to dodge it. Sirius gave you a passive shrug from the other side of the field, a beater's bat resting on his shoulder.

“Tosser,” you grumbled under your breath. You had half a mind to throw him right through the left-field hoops without his broom, but dealing with the bludgers wasn't your job; you just had to evade and score. You wouldn't let your team down.

Your eyes searched the skies for the quaffle again, and found it as you spotted a Gryffindor snatch it out of Catchlove's hands. You built up momentum, lowering your body to your broom handle as you picked up speed, swiping the ball from the red Chaser's hands before his eyes could register. You flew under him before their team could rearrange formation and spun around quickly, swatting the quaffle towards the lower right goal with the tail end of your broom. Their Keeper dove to block it, but was one second too late. The ball flew through the hoop and straight into Regulus' hands, who looped back around and threw it through the top right, leaving the Gryffindor Keeper too disoriented and too low in the corner of the goal posts to do anything about it.

“(L/n) outmaneuvers Johnson and scores!” you heard the commentary box boom, “Regulus Black follows up with another goal, we are 20 Slytherin to 10 Gryffindor, what a quick turnaround to start off the match!”

You huffed, impressed that Regulus was able to make the most of your shot. You knew he was Sirius' brother, but that was about it. He was a year younger than you, so you didn't have any classes together and never really talked to him before.

“Nice shot,” you said, flying next to him.

“Same to you,” he said with the slightest upwards quirk of his lips.

“Oi, keep it up you two!” Vanity shouted, hovering over you before dodging the bludger that flew her way, “Black, keep point on Johnson, he's off his game today. (L/n) I want you on intercept and watch for Potter.”

“Gladly,” you smirked, flying off towards the other side of the field. You were starting to feel more comfortable in the air, like you were when you were just flying by yourself; the sounds of the crowd disappeared over the wind rushing in your ears, and you were able to concentrate on your main objective:

Kicking James Potter's arse.

And that you did. The all too confident smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face disappeared when he suddenly felt the weight of the quaffle leave his hands. A victorious smile graced your lips at his dumbfound expression as you threw the ball long to Regulus, who caught it with ease, swatting Johnson away like a fly before scoring another goal.

“(L/n) passes to Black who scores another ten points for Slytherin!” Kingston announced, “it looks like the two rookie players are really hitting their stride now. Choosing (L/n) as a last second fill in is really paying off!”

Sirius' eyes narrowed, grunting in frustration as he hit another bludger your way. Regulus' head turned at the sound of the crack of the bat and signaled over to one of your Beaters, who tossed the bat his way just in time for the Slytherin to send the ball flying back towards his brother. Sirius cursed under his breath, rolling to the right and spinning out of control for a moment before reorienting himself.

“Hooch, what gives!” he shouted, “penalize them!”

“Fair play under protection,” Hooch denied him, “you've been taking headshots, Black. Be grateful I'm not docking you.”

Sirius grumbled a few choice words under his breath before flying back into the fray.

“Thanks for that!” you called over to Regulus.

“Don't mention it,” the boy said, his expression still fairly neutral save for the slight smirk on his face. How the hell was he so calm during this game anyways?

You continued to work with Regulus throughout the match; you'd found a system that worked, and your captain told you to roll with it. Pass after pass you intercepted and scored, mainly targeting Potter not just because Vanity had told you to, but because it brought you a considerable amount of personal enjoyment.

That's when you saw it— a tiny, nearly imperceptible flash of gold that whizzed by your peripheral vision. Neither of the Seekers had caught sight of it yet, but you watched as it zoomed low towards the ground, hovering just beneath one of the crowd stands.

“Oi, Talkalot!” you shouted over the crowd at your Seeker, “Dive low at Hippogriff, now!”

You'd only had a few hours to look over the strategies that Vanity laid out for you, but you knew the Slytherin team had come up with code words for each quadrant of the Quiditch pitch so you could alert your Seeker if you saw the snitch without the other team knowing where it was. You hoped to Merlin you'd gotten the code right, and you exhaled in relief as Talkalot zoomed past you, taking a sharp dive straight down.

“Nice eye, (L/n)!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice trailing off as she went after the snitch at top speed.

Sirius' eyes widened as he saw the sporadic move from your Seeker. That could only mean one thing.

“Halls, they've got eyes on the snitch!” he shouted to his team captain who cursed under his breath, taking off in Talkalot's direction, but her lead was too great.

“She's got it!” Kingston hollered into the mic, “Lucinda Talkalot has caught the golden snitch, scoring 150 points for Slytherin! Our score comes out 50 Gryffindor to 230 Slytherin, and this match is over!”

“Slytherin wins!” Madame Hooch proclaimed from her broom.

Everyone in the emerald stands cheered so loudly you thought their tents would topple. You couldn't believe the amount of adrenaline coursing through your body in that moment. It was a complete sensory overload as you were bombarded by the Slytherin team, mostly comprised of people you hardly even knew, and thrown on top of their shoulders and they cheered for you.

“What a game, (L/n)! I never knew you could play!”

“Where the hell have you been all this time, eh?”

“You better try out next year or you're dead!”

You laughed at the last comment from Vanity, people buzzing around you as soon as you were set down. You broke away from the congratulatory comments and pats on the back, however, as you spotted James across the field. You couldn't help but rub this in his face a little.

“Why so blue, Potter?” you grinned as you bounded over to him, “what was that about me 'finding another game to lose'?”

For once, James had no clever comeback, and his face flushed as you laughed at his expression.

“I do believe that leaves us 11-10,” you said cheekily, doing an overly exaggerated bow before tossing your broom from your left hand to your right and stalking off.

“Not for long,” James said to himself once you were out of earshot, equal parts impressed and supremely annoyed. It was time for him to pay another visit to Zonko's. He'd show you blue all right. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“After that year I tried out for a permanent position as Seeker,” you said, “your father and I concluded our prank war, Sirius and I put aside our differences, Lupin vouched for my involvement with the map, and the rest is history.”

“I seriously can't believe you became such close friends only two years later,” Harry said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Neither could we,” you said, “it was just a series of chance encounters that we learned we were more similar than we thought. I really do believe that friendship can come from anywhere, Harry. Even more so when you least expect it. So if there's anyone around you that you think you might never get along with, I'd say it's worth it to give them a chance.”

Harry paused at your words. There were more than a few people who came to mind.

You turned to the next page, which was a spread of you and the rest of the Marauders in more casual settings. One could clearly tell you had taken them of each other, if the shaky camera movement and blurry rendering were anything to go off of.

You smiled to yourself as you saw a photo of you and Remus asleep in the Hogwarts library, lightly leaning against each other with your eyes peacefully closed. Suddenly the camera flash jolted through the photograph, and you two bolted upright. You glared at the person taking the photo and reached out to smack the camera away, the picture going blurry for a moment before resetting. Harry laughed at the brief repeating scene, as did you.

“Your father took this one,” you huffed, “because of course he did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1977 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rested your head in your palm as you transcribed a few spells into your notebook. The lantern in front of you gave you just enough light to read the elaborate Latin, as the sun had long since set. Your eyelids felt annoyingly heavy, attempting to close on their own as you fought against them to stay awake.

“How are you holding up?” Remus asked with a slight grin, catching you jump awake at his remark.

You and Remus had gotten permission from Madame Pince to use the library after hours to study; after all, you two were outstanding students. If James and Sirius had made the request, they wouldn't have gotten so positive a reaction.

“I've been more awake in my life, but I really need to get this done tonight,” you sighed, “NEWTS start next week and I have to be ready.” You stared up at the boy who was looking at you with obvious concern. “I'm fine, Moony. And I don't want to keep you here, so whenever you want to head off to bed, feel free to.”

“It's no trouble,” he said, “I'll walk you back to your common room, at least. At this rate you'll fall asleep in the middle of the hall for Filch to find you.”

You gave him a light but well-meant glare, groaning as you turned your tired eyes back to the parchment in front of you.

“Why the sudden all-nighters anyways?” Lupin asked, “I thought you'd be plenty prepared.”

“My Charms marks haven't exactly been the best lately,” you admitted, “that's kind of important if I want to become an auror, Remus.”

“Really?” the lycanthrope said, surprised, “but you're always in the know on some spell or another I've never even heard of. You've even made some of your own, right?”

“Yes, but the Ministry wants people who can conjure a corporeal patronus, not someone who made up a spell that makes antlers grow on someone's head to make a very specific joke.”

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” Remus laughed, thinking back to James asking him 'why does my head feel so heavy?' “but I see what you're saying,” Remus continued, “Have you thought about Dumbledore's proposal? Joining the cause might call for some more specialized tasks that would fit you well.”

“Right,” you bit your lip, “I just. . . I don't know. It's a lot to take on. A big part of me is scared, Remus. I'm not like you guys. I can't just fearlessly leap into a battle without any second thoughts. James and Sirius gave their answers so quickly and. . . I couldn't say for sure right away like they could. Honestly, I was terrified, and I still feel guilty because of it.”

“Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, (Y/n),” Remus said, “It's nothing to be ashamed of. No one is forcing you to make this decision right away, nor are they requiring you do it alone. There's a war going on out there, (Y/n). No one would blame you for not diving into it headfirst.”

“Always the quoter of muggle proverbs,” you chuckled lightly, “thank you, Remus. Really.”

A quiet yawn snuck into the back of your throat, and you stretched out of your chair to try to get feeling back into your body.

“Maybe I should turn in soon,” you said, your voice already groggy, “just a few more transcriptions. . .”

Remus stayed by your side as you continued to work diligently, and he found himself smiling at your innate stubbornness. It was something he greatly admired about you; when you decided on something you stuck to it no matter what, sometimes to a fault. You fought to keep your eyes open, even as your head began to slope and your handwriting gradually became slower.

Lupin was beginning to tire himself, which surprised him. He was naturally nocturnal, after all, and usually had no issue staying up to the early hours of the morning. But the quiet scratch of your quill against the parchment, the occasional sound of a page turning, and the smell of your shampoo that wafted with the motion, all lulled him into a sense of ease that was much too easy to doze off to.

Just when he thought he might fall asleep, he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see you sleeping peacefully, your head having slipped from your palm and onto the soft fabric of his sweater. His face flushed a deep red, and he thanked Merlin you were sound asleep. He was caught in between embarrassment and slight panic as he instinctualy wanted to wake you but also ensure you actually got to sleep tonight.

He meant to wake you, he really had, but his mind and body betrayed him, and without even knowing when, his eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into quite possibly the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

The flash of the magical camera was blinding, even through your closed eyelids. White spots danced in your vision as you groaned, shielding your face from the camera.

“MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!”

Remus jolted awake, remembering last night's events in an instant and banging his head on the bookshelf beside him in an attempt to put some distance between you two.

James was stood there, camera in hand and doubled over in laughter.

“Prongs, you better start running before I skin you and turn you into a pair of shoes,” you growled.

“How is it that I always catch you two sleeping together?” James chortled, completely ignoring your statement, “Can't be long till you get it on to the other sense of the phrase.”

And that's when you lunged at him. Too bad he didn't take your advice for a head start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That twat,” you said fondly, a statement that about summed up your and James' friendship.

Harry found himself smiling as you recounted your memories with his father. It made him feel that much more grateful for what he shared with Ron and Hermione.

“Oh, Merlin,” you laughed as you saw the next picture. You, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and James were standing side by side, Slughorn smiling in the middle of all of you. “This was the first and last Slug Club party that we ever attended all together,” you said, “Like I mentioned, Lily and I had always gone, and—”

You caught yourself.

And Severus would pretend to be reluctant tagging along, you finished in your mind. After what happened he stopped attending the parties.

You cleared your throat.

“Ahem, well, we'd always gone together as friends but none of the boys ever went with us,” you said, “It was our last year, and Lily finally convinced James to tag along, because by then they were together and he was contractually obligated to do so. I talked Sirius into coming because Slughorn had been trying to get him to come for years, and I made Remus my plus one. So for the first time ever, we were all at the party.”

“So it was the last party of the year?” Harry asked.

“Um, well, no,” you laughed, “it was the last party we were invited to. Let's just say your godfather thought it would be funny to enchant the ice sculptures to chase Lucius Malfoy around the dance floor. I'll admit, watching that stupid blonde ninny run screaming from a rapidly melting octopus to the tune of a classical string quartet was pretty entertaining, though Slughorn obviously felt otherwise.”

Harry chuckled, clearly seeing the spark of mischief in Sirius' eyes, even through a photo. As Harry's gaze drifted across the page, he noticed an empty space near the corner of the book. A discolored square remained where a photo should have been, the caption reading 'Christmas, 1976.' As he saw the way you ran your fingers lightly across the page, he decided against asking you what used to be there. He instead turned his attention to the next photograph, which was one taken in an all too familiar setting.

“Hold on,” Harry said, pointing to the picture, “that's the Gryffindor common room!”

“Sure is,” you grinned, “that secret passage from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower went from being used purely for pranking purposes to a way for us to actually hang out together at night.”

You stared down at the photograph fondly. You all looked so much older than the first pictures. You and James were lounging on the couch, not bothering to hide the overly full glasses of firewhiskey in your hands. Sirius and Remus were sitting on pillows on the floor, caught in the middle of a fit of laughter before all four of you turned to the camera which flashed. A pang of hurt and anger hit you square in the chest as it did. Peter had been the one taking the photo.

“I remember this day,” you said, an expression Harry couldn't quite figure out on your face, “it was the night before graduation. Our last night at Hogwarts. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1978 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A giggle rose in your throat as you took yet another drink of firewhiskey with James and Sirius, something that Remus insisted you were going to regret come morning.

“Oh, don't be suck a stickler, Moony,” Sirius guffawed, “tonight's the night! This time tomorrow we'll be packing up camp and heading out into the great unknown.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand that was cut off promptly by James smacking him upside the head.

“I'll brew a pepperup potion tomorrow if anyone really needs it,” you assured Remus.

“Not really the point, (Y/n),” he rolled his eyes.

As you leaned back to look at the four of them, all grinning like idiots and laughing, you felt a strange sense of sadness come over you. This was your last night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place you had spent most of your life and where you had met the people you could no longer imagine that life without. As the reality of that fact sunk in, you grew quiet.

“Everything's going to be different after tomorrow, isn't it?” you said.

The boys looked surprised at your sudden and intense declaration, and James was the first to break the tension you'd created.

“Aww, Fangs is getting all sentimental,” he grinned, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“I will toss you out this window, Prongs.”

He laughed, poking you in the cheek, his smile only widening as you huffed in annoyance.

“It won't be different,” he promised, more serious but with that smile ever present on his face, “we'll still be friends. We'll still be a pack. And besides, after we graduate we could go. . . well, anywhere together! Just think, the five greatest heroes Hogwarts has ever seen, going on top secret missions from Dumbledore, saving the world!”

“It'll be dangerous, James,” you said, “there's a war going on, remember?”

“What war could ever break us up, huh?” he said reassuringly. You felt your heart swell at the remark. “And besides, you're gonna have to see me next year for the wedding anyways! Lily wanted it sometime in Spring.”

“. . .”

“WEDDING?!” you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter screeched, practically in unison as if it had been planned and rehearsed. Chaos erupted in the room, and you couldn't care less if you woke everyone in Gryffindor tower.

“You sly git, when were you gonna tell us?!” Sirius whacked his friend over the head with the map.

“I just did!” James said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “And ow, Merlin, Pads. . .”

“You hit me first!”

“I can't believe you just dropped that on us,” you said, “Lily actually agreed to this?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” James huffed.

“Hey, I'm just saying you tend to drift off into fantasy land when it comes to her,” you said, putting your hands up in mock surrender, “I was just making sure this was rooted in reality.”

Remus laughed at that, lifting the needle on his record gently.

“They have a point,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I actually proposed, and yes she actually agreed,” James said, a lovesick smile on his face, “I wanted to get married pretty soon after we graduated, and she had no problem with that. She said she'd want to start a family—”

“Oh GOD,” Sirius said, drunken horror on his face.

“An actual nightmare,” you joined in playfully, “imagine another one of you running around. Even Lily's DNA couldn't balance that out.”

“Alright, that's it,” James said, “you're not gonna be godparents anymore.”

“I'd be terrible at that anyways,” Sirius chortled.

“I disagree,” James said earnestly, and the comment struck Sirius completely off guard. He chocked up the welling tears in his eyes to the alcohol, taking another sip to mask it.

“You're going soft, Prongsy,” he grumbled.

“Look who's talking, tough guy,” James laughed, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“We should take a picture,” Peter suggested quietly, turning red when everyone stopped what they were doing to face him, “I-I mean, since (Y/n) was worried about things changing, and we're all graduating, a-and who knows when—”

“Good thinking Wormtail,” James beamed, pulling you closer and leaning down towards Sirius and Remus so you could all be in the frame.

Peter was looking down at his shoes, fidgeting with his wand.

“Peter, you don't wanna get in the picture?” you asked.

The large framed boy jumped at your voice, looking nervously between the people he had come to know as his friends. There was an oddly fearful look in his eyes that left as soon as it came— a look you wouldn't understand until years later.

“N-no, that's alright,” he said.

And that was one of the last peaceful days of your life you could recall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven't even thought about these in the longest time,” you said, staring at the faded photos, “it's crazy to look back on them. It feels both like yesterday and a hundred years ago.”

The next page immediately summoned a lump in your throat.

“This was their wedding,” you said, fighting to keep your voice level, “the year after we graduated.”

Harry looked down at the dozens of photos of the ceremony and party that took place after; James at the altar in his burgundy and gold embroidered suit, and Lily walking down the isle with a bouquet full of the flowers that shared her name. Remus raising a champagne flute to the large crowd of guests as he made a heartfelt speech. You and Sirius dancing under the floating lanterns made to mimic the Hogwarts ceiling.

“Your father never was one for subtlety,” you laughed lightly, “he wanted the ceremony to be as extravagant as possible. He pulled out all the stops. . . and then, the very next year, they announced that they were going to have you.”

You looked up at Harry, and the resemblance he shared with two of your closest late friends conjured feelings of happiness, love, and deep, cutting sadness all at the same time.

Your fingers moved to turn the page, wanting to move on to something else, but you froze as you saw the edge of the next one. So much for that plan.

“I think that's enough for now,” you said quickly, smoothing the page back down, “the others will be arriving soon for the meeting, you best get washed up.”

Harry was curious, of course, but he nodded, not wanting to press for anything else as he reluctantly headed back upstairs.

When you were left alone with the photo book you sighed, bringing yourself to turn the page to see a picture of you and Severus. You were beaming at the camera, proudly holding out your perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death, the photo having been taken by Slughorn to put up on his famous wall. One of your arms held the cauldron haphazardly, the other slung around Severus' shoulders. He certainly wasn't displaying your level of enthusiasm, but a small smile graced his expression, allowing his lips to fully curve upwards, which was as close to 'beaming' as he ever got. He looked so much younger— less burdened.

Right next to that photo was an older one from 1973. It was one you had taken from the top of the oak tree, with Severus and Lily looking up at you. You knew he'd be here soon, and you knew you should talk to him, but you found yourself stuck back in the cycle of doubting every opening spiel you came up with.

You groaned in frustration, snapping the book shut and resting your forehead on the table as stress flooded your being. You refused to live in this perpetual state of dwelling on what happened. You were ready to talk, you just had to take the first step.

Chapter 9 coming soon!

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