#Heiress Harris | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunnami · 4 months

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❝time will tell.❞

[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]

summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞

pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)

word count. 9.5k.

tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf

note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one

HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society.

At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black.

Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.

Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun.

Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways.

But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun.

Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused.

You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.”

Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt.

“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?”

“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”

You reach over to smack his head, scowling.

“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?”

“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.”

“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.”

Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)

“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—”

Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society.

“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly.

Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.”

You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?”

The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it.

That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.

“That slimy bitch!”

Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity.

The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give.

You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress.

You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry.

You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight.

But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat.

You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period.

When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then—

“That’s Sirius.”

You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.

Sirius Black.

“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit.

“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.”

Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”

You gasp. “That’s horrible!”

Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.”

You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either.

After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”

“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.)

“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”

A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.”

Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.”

You grimace. “Which cousin?”

He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”

This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.”

“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.”

“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”

“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.”

When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.”

You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.”

“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice.

You nod.

Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”

Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.”

The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.

You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe.

You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.

They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.”

Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you.

You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.”

When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?”

Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.”

“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.”

“Oh, Harry. . .”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?”

You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath.

“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”

“It’s—”

“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”

“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly.

“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?”

“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.”

“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?”

You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”

“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes.

Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.”

Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be.

“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”

Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.”

“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space.

A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered.

Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved.

Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease.

(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open.

“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”

“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)

But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision.

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.”

“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears.

“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!”

James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.”

Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.”

With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked.

Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?”

You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations.

“It was fine,” You say in a daze.

Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?”

Were you?

You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend!

There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize.

Then, you find it.

Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face.

It’s a space on that wall just for you.

James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.”

“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much.

James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”

“James, I can’t do this.”

That’s all you say before you run out of the door.

(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.)

You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe.

James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”

You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.”

“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.”

You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well.

James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.”

“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes.

He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.”

“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”

He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!”

You don’t look back.

(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.”

Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair.

“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.”

James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”

“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.

You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you.

Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?”

Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”

“Got anymore stories?” He asks.

You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”

Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?”

“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.”

Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater.

Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra.

You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more.

“Certain,” You respond, yawning.

As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones.

“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!”

Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out.

“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came.

“I know,” You say defeatedly.

“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.”

“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.”

Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?”

“I don’t know,” You say honestly.

Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”

(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora.

You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”

Oh, Harry knows.

And Hermione knows it all too well.

“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”

At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.”

You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.”

Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”

Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home.

You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order.

“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips.

Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.”

“I’m always right.” You pout.

Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”

“Without a doubt.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.

“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.”

As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back.

How lucky you are.

“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen.

“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly.

You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.”

Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!”

Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”

You grin. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.”

“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.”

Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor

“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway.

Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:

“We’re all getting married!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.”

You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.”

Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will.

“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.

You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!”

Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.”

You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?”

Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.”

“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.”

Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.”

“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.”

Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?”

“His hair?” James exclaims in horror.

Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”

“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.”

“I’m telling Euphemia on you!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll.

Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”

“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.”

You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump��s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”

“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them.

(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.”

“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?”

“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”

You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.”

James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.”

You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)

Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness.

Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters.

The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement.

Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue.

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead.

“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.”

“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?”

When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast.

“Avada Kedavra!”

You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor.

“No!”

You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice.

“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh.

“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?”

“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”

“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need.

“Expulso!”

Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down.

“Accio wand!”

The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense.

“Peter?” You call out.

“Crucio!”

The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt.

“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!”

It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.

“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.”

“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.”

You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat.

“Defodio!”

You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground.

That just leaves one more problem.

Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.”

Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.

“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.”

Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.”

“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.”

“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die, s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.”

Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow.

Oh.

Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work.

You just wanted to rest now.

The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words.

“Avada Kedavra.”

(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms.

You’ll feel my blood on your skin.

You’re a dead man.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.”

“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely.

Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?”

Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?”

Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?”

Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.”

Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.

Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?”

“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors.

James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!”

“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.”

James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.)

ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus.

He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains.

You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.)

Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”

He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by.

“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”

And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for.

end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader #sunny's hp fics

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beyondthedarkofnight · 2 years

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emilia riddle tag drop

#( the slytherin heiress : emilia riddle)#( harry potter rp.)#(hp rp.)#(of many stories: character file)#(face claim.)#(amalie snøløs.)

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jarofstyles · 4 months

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Illicit 5

Here's Illicit part 5.. It's a fun one for sure hehe

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusives

Illicit Masterlist

WC- 3k

Warnings- exhibitionism(?), Voyerism(?), Really mean H, Cheating (H w Y/N), spit play, smut etc

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It was safe to say that Brant was not pleased in the slightest that his daughter had tricked Harry. While he wasn’t pleased with the fact that it had come to that in order for them to spend time together, his company took precedence over his daughter’s relationship. He had apologized profusely to Harry, telling him he would speak to his daughter and make sure she knew how inappropriate her actions were. That wasn’t what he was looking for.

He wanted this contract terminated.

Perhaps, if he hadn’t met Y/N, he would have a bit more tact. Suffer in silence and just roll his eyes at her antics, let her do what she needed to get him off of her back. But he did. He met the love of his life and this girl was standing in the way of what he wanted. That never turned out well for anyone, really, but this girl had pushed his last straw. He needed her to break up with him so this agreement was void. The moment she told him it was done, he would perhaps just for joy. It was exhausting. The annoyance he used to feel for her had built up into a sweltering hatred, a loathing. Every little thing she did pissed him off and put her higher and higher on his shit list. He needed her gone, and fast. He couldn’t keep hiding Y/N.

Katherine on the other hand, only wanted to chase harder. She was livid with him for speaking out loud, letting people question their relationship. Sure enough there was a grainy video of a pissed off Harry growling at her from across the table, throwing cash on to the table. The articles had come out in droves.

Trouble in Paradise for the New IT Couple?

UnStylish Dinner- Waitress Tells All

Rocky Road for Heiress and Mogul

Is THE Couple Calling it Quits?

Tantrum at the Table? Katherine Brant EXPOSED!

Needless to say, she was twitching and angry. Her carefully curated brand had been tarnished. She’d put in months now of effort, building up their story. Letting herself sit aside while Harry was busy but getting her head bitten off when she wanted a bit of attention. Her crush on him was obsessive. It wasn’t just getting his love anymore, it was building their relationship up to legendary levels. Give them a ship name! Katrry? Hatherine? She was fine with either, but she wanted that influencer reputation. The wealth itself wasn’t enough. She wanted attention, damn it, and Harry was ruining her plans.

When Katherine had originally gotten this deal, she was ecstatic. She was convinced she could get the ‘emotionless beast’ as people around there called him, to love her. She knew she was pretty, funny, she had a lot to offer. Her plan had been foolproof, or so she thought. Thinking about how they could rise up and be the perfect power couple. New money and Old coming together and ruling over the city with a golden fist.

They had been ruined, however, when he didn’t give. They had sex 2 times, she gave him oral once, and the man had barely said anything to her except ‘shut up.’ He was selfish, using her as a mere fleshlight to get off on. No praise, no words besides a grunt when he came. He’d demanded her face down, ass up, and to keep quiet. Bite the pillow if you need, your voice is annoying. It hadn’t been bad, his cock thick and hitting the right spots, but he showed no interest in her. No affection. Simply slapping her ass and getting up to shower alone after he was done. He’d asked if she was good, but that was about it. She’d thought maybe using sex to get to him would work, but after the second time he straight up denied her. No phsycial contact.

There was no way he was normal. He didn’t have emotions nor morals, it seemed, but she didn’t need those in order to have a happy life. Giving up on the affection, she’d tried to perfect the image, manipulating photos, planting people to see things at certain angles. Making people think she had done the impossible- she had turned the mottled, charred heart of Harry Styles into a blooming forest, just for her. But obviously- things were not turning out her way. Katherine was used to getting her way.

So she devised a plan. An intervention of sorts, one that had her stomping into his office only to be told he had taken the day off. A direct lie he had told her just an hour earlier, saying he was busy at work all day and not to bother him with silly things. Like her feelings. She was fuming and irrational, knowing what she had to do. It would perhaps get people fired, maybe get her in big trouble with her father, but she wasn't thinking clearly right now. All she wanted to do was to yell at him. Give Harry a taste of his own medicine, damn it. He acted so high and mighty, so above her, and it infuriated her.

Knowing it wasn’t smart and the back of her mind reminding her of how much he valued his privacy, she knew it was dirty. But seeing her opportunity with a new doorman to his building, proving their relationship status with his phone number in her phone and photos of them together, she got the spare key to his place.

Her heart was beating in her throat as she pushed the front door handle down, heels clicking as she walked inside the foyer. The place was quiet, really, except for a faint sound coming from the upstairs of the penthouse. Naive, she assumed it was the television. Harry hadn’t allowed her here more than to meet her in the hallway, so part of this was saving her curiosity as she saw the large panoramic views of the city in this high rise, floor to ceiling windows. His step down living room with a half one puzzle on the coffee table and a U Shaped couch, she walked past it and towards the grand staircase to make her way up to where he must be.

It was nerve wracking, really. Being here, knowing she wasn’t supposed to be, but the rage simmering under her skin was too hot to make sense of it. Each step clicked, bringing her closer to the sound she still couldn’t quite make out.

“Oh, fuuuuck.” A feminine voice let out, faint but loud enough to make her throat tight. There was no way. Each step closer gained another sound. A grunt, a smack, a whimper. A manly cooing, the sound of flesh slapping together and hushed words that only got clearer as she neared the door that was ajar.

“S’good, baby?” It was Harry. Harry Styles, with his low crooning voice. A tone she had never heard before, making her stiffen up and her eyes blink hard as the deep words continue. “S’so good for me. Always so fucking good, swallowing me up.” A weak whine sounded in reply. Tip toeing closer, her curiosity got the best of her again as she peeked inside.

On the plush bed, the blankets were crumpled and wrinkled. A starkly naked, almost faceless woman was laying on her back, fingers clutching the broad expanse of Harry’s bare, tanned back. The pearly pink of her demure manicured nails digging into the skin, making a groan Katherine had never imagined the man capable of falling from swollen lips. She was getting a side view, a real pornographic image playing in front of her face. Frozen, like watching a car crash as she looked at the couple.

He was fucking another woman. A woman he was treating much differently than she had ever treated her. His hand scooping under her neck, cooing down at her as tiny repetitive whimpers left her lips. “I know, M’Love. I know, I’m getting that spot, aren’t I? S’my spot.” He brushed her nose with his own, fucking into her deep and concentrated. The sweat glistened on his skin as she watched her supposed ‘boyfriend’ fuck into the cunt of another woman. He called her ‘his love.’. She was shaking, face pale as she couldn't seem to uncement her feet from the carpeted hall.

“Yes, yes, right there. Right there, H.” The woman panted. Desperation was clear in her tone, her legs pulled up and on his shoulders. H? She was allowed a nickname and Katherine wasn't? “I can’t stop, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum I-” A needy squeal sounded in the room as Harry leaned down, spitting over her cunt and smearing it in with his hand. Unashamed and passionate. He was being filthy, but the way he looked at the woman- it broke her a little. Whoever this was, she had gotten her dream. She was the one standing in the way of it, she was the one who had ruined her plans. She’d hypnotized him with sex, somehow managing to get her goal of unfreezing his heart. Just the way he handled her made Katherine well aware of the fact that he was in love.

“There we fuckin’ go, my love. Soak my cock.” He hissed through his teeth, eyes looking up from Y/N to follow his gut feeling, eyes meeting Katherine’s in the doorway. Instead of stopping, of growling at her, instead of making her presence known, he simply laughed, turning his attention back to Y/N and let her watch. His thrusts increased in tempo, a hand placed on her tummy as he worked harder. Like he was trying to prove something. “S’my perfect girl. All mine, let go all over my cock. S’all yours, baby.” He hummed. “I can feel it- fuck, you’re trying to milk me. Y’want it, sweet girl?” He mumbled down at her. “Want my cum again?”

Her eyes betrayed her, looking down to find that his cock was indeed bare. Something she knew he was notorious for never allowing. It solidified a lot to Katherine, knowing that he was fucking this girl raw, that she was the one that had beat her to him. Anger and shame bubbled inside of her as her face stays red, watching his slick pick drive into her, spreading her open with each pass. Creamy at the base, like this wasn’t their first round, maybe a third. Bitten skin and scratch marks, her breasts with pebbled nipples arched up as begged for it, unashamed at her pleas as Harry stared down at her with pure love and lust. It seemed to be his undoing, dropping down her legs and finding himself on top of her, deep and hard thrusts as he pressed his nose to hers before his face contorted in rapture. A deep growl, his hips stuttering as he pushed in one final time and the wet sounds of sex ended. Only then, he took her mouth with his own while he stayed balls deep, humping into her and kissing her hard, more passion going into that one kiss than he had given her the whole of their relationship.

His expression hardened as he pulled away, looking up at Katherine with a single warning mouthed to her by his swollen, spit slicked lips. ‘Get the fuck out.’

—---------

“I love you.” Harry mumbled into Y/N’s neck, peppering it with kisses. He wasn’t going to ruin this post orgasm bliss quite yet, ignoring the woman standing with a gaping mouth at their bedroom door. “So much. My sweet angel.” He stroked the messy locks from her face, their second round on his day off being usually one of his favorites. This time, it was again, but for a much more nefarious reason.

Harry wasn’t one to tell someone they were wrong if they called him cruel. He was. Y/N, his nieces and his family were the only ones shielded by his gray morals, but there was a sick part of him that was relieved. Excited, even, that Katherine got a glimpse. Saw that she could never compare, that he was a taken man and was only with her. Maybe now, she would get it through her impossibly thick skull. Only, it seemed she was stupider than Harry had originally thought, standing like a deer in headlights as Harry gently pulled out, using his fingers to curl inside her cunt and the other grabbing the blanket to cover up Y/N.

“Can you not read lips? I said to get the fuck out.” He said coldly, fingers pressing the cum further into Y/N’s cunt as he looked at Katherine. “You come in here, invade my privacy? More so, my girl’s privacy? Not fucking okay.”

“Are you kidding me?” Katherine squeaked. Y/N had been clued in and felt herself curl in on herself, hiding under the blanket as her thundering heart didn’t take the second to calm down. It only got worse. “I’m your girlfriend! Not this, this-”

“I’d choose your words very fucking carefully.” He snapped, eyes darker than she had ever seen. He was naked as the day he was born, cock wet and filthy with another woman's orgasm mixed with his own, and he was more threatening than she could have ever imagined. “This is the woman who will be the mother of my children. You, Katherine, are a means to an end. An end I’ve been trying to work on and you’ve been too pathetic to catch a clue. Or stupid, actually, considering I’ve told you I’m here because you whined to your father who was dumb enough to add a personal matter cloud his judgment. I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now.” He pulled his fingers from Y/N, licking them clean without breaking eye contact with the wicked witch. He hoped it made her sick.

“You are a monster.” She whispered, face paling. “You don’t care about anything! Any of the effort I put in, it’s because you’ve had a whore on the side-”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He interrupted again. “She’s not the whore. If anything, you’re the one on the side trying to desperately prove to people who don’t care about you that you are important. It’s pathetic. I tried to help you by treating you like shit, but let me spell it out for you.” He stood up, giving Y/N’s forehead a kiss before crossing his arms. “You are nothing to me. You’ve never been anything to me. She has been my everything since the day we met. I have been dreaming of marrying her, impregnating her, keeping her. You and this fucked up deal have been an inconvenience since day one. And don’t even think about running to your father crying. There is no clause saying I need to be loyal to you. No monogamy, no fidelity clause. Your father’s company was a welcome inquisition to my empire, but it means nothing to me now. You mean nothing to me. Your time is worthless.”

Harry was harsh but real. Y/N had her hand over her mouth, watching the exchange in horror. She wasn’t pleased about being seen, as it felt extremely violating, but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t feeling that weird sense of satisfaction over finally being seen as his one and only. It was a weird juxtaposition of feelings swirling in her gut, blinking as she watched the girl’s face fall. Harry was being ruthless, trying to cement the facts in her head.

“I’ve been as kind as I can be given the situation. I went along with your little schemes but I’m tired. Frankly, the things you care about are vapid, stupid, and you will fall out of public favor in seconds once the next heiress with a camera pops up. But you’ve fucked up massively, Katherine.First, wasting my time and business hours. But this? Breaking and entering? Are you really that pathetic?” He sneered. It must have been a sight, seeing a stark nude Harry Styles sneering at a shivling excuse of an influencer who was standing in his doorway. “And here you are now, wasting my time with my love. I was going to continue this agreement and let you continue whatever social media posts, but this is too far for me. No deal is worth a psychotic woman breaking into my house and making my woman feel unsafe.”

He crossed the room to grab his phone when he heard her sputter.

“Wait! No- No, don’t call my dad.” She said shakily. “Please don’t call him. I’ll do anything. He’s going to kill me.” Katherine, above all else, couldn’t stand the threat of being cut off. That’s what he threatened the other day for using his phone to trick Harry. Katherine was used to her lifestyle and if that was taken away, she didn’t know what she would do.

“Call off the contract.” He said. “That’s the only way I’m not telling your father and ruining your life. Break up with me, do your silly influencer thing and call the paparazzi. Call me an asshole, I don’t give a fuck. But break this contract. I want out of it and I want to be rid of you.” He found his briefs, pulling them up his legs. This was the one thing he wanted. To be honest, part of him did want to ruin her life- but he didn’t want to be held responsible for all the other shit that came with it. So for one final time, he gave her a shot. “And get the fuck out before I call security.”

If she didn’t take this warning seriously, he’d be happy to show her what kind of monster he could be.

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hotvintagepoll · 5 months

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Propaganda

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [attached below]

Montgomery Clift (The Heiress)—no propaganda submitted other than the pics below the cut

This is round 2 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

Montgomery Clift propaganda:

#harry belafonte #montgomery clift #hotvintagepoll #round 2 #fuck that old man

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sophiesonlinediary · 3 months

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A GUIDE TO AVERY KYLIE GRAMBS

-> Avery Kylie Grambs also known as heiress and world’s youngest billionaire is the daughter of Ricky Grambs and Hannah Rooney

appearance -> Avery is 19 years old with hazel eyes and brown hair with natural highlights and stand at 5’7

personality traits -> She is very thoughtful and smart, and cares about others.

Background ->Avery lived in new castle, connecticut with her sister and previously before with her mom before she passed. one random day she meets a blonde who invited her to a will reading it is then revealed she inherited a little over 40 billion dollars from entrepreneur Tobias Hawthorne. Avery is then forced to move into The Hawthorne manor where she had to live with Tobias’s supposed predecessor Grayson Hawthorne, and his brothers Jameson, Xander, and the eldest Nash.

Avery never really felt like she belonged anywhere until she met Toby Hawthorne under the alias of Harry and started playing chess with him around 2 times a week until one day he mysteriously disappeared.

she is currently taking 2 gap years from UConn traveling around and planning the grandest game with her boyfriend jameson hawthorne

her style:

avery also happens to be a victim of underrated in your own fandom due to white attractive men. Inheritance games fandom DO BETTER

#sophie's diary entry #the inheritance games #the final gambit #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #the hawthorne vault #no cause why did i not know any facts on avery

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to-fly-with-clipped-wings · 5 months

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Killing Butterflies Masterlist

Harry James Potter x fem! daughter of Regulus Black! reader

Summary: Being (Y/n) Black - the one and only heiress to the noble house of Black - who also happens to be the daughter of the infamous Regulus Arcturus Black (and the niece of the notorious criminal Sirius Black) is pretty tough to be frank. However, despite the titles, rules and expectations that befall you, there are only two things that you long for, at which you will not cease to achieve: Firstly, to fill in the big shoes left behind by your late father. And secondly, burn the butterflies that flutter within your stomach in the presence of Harry Potter (who happens to be the sworn enemy of, perhaps, your entire family).

Prologue:

'When had the pangs in his heart become so painful? So loud? He hadn’t a clue. So, when Regulus found it within himself to straighten up and gently remove his hand from your grasp, he didn’t register it – the complete and utter sadness taking hold of his nerves and paralysing them like snake venom. He silently pressed his lips to your forehead in a final goodbye.' OR: in which the vague exposition of Killing Butterflies is revealed.

#harrypotter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harrypotterxreader #harry potter x you #harrypotterxblack!reader #harry potter x black reader #harry potter x daughter of regulus black! reader

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fire-swift · 9 months

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So... Lancer × The Locked Tomb... I like the idea of Griddle being a Balor pilot and Harry piloting a Lich. What about you?

Hey hello, thank you for the question. Also sorry for all the Lancer to my tlt mutuals, it will happen again. Harrow has to pilot a lich, even if just by vibes alone.

I don't know about Gideon in a balor, what was your reasoning? The heiress of the minor house of a remote karrakin barony planet has to appear for a contest with other house heirs, despite being her enemy she needs to bring the prodigy blackbeard pilot, famous for pushing recklessly ahead and engaging in brutal melee ignoring the exposed reactor. When the contest is announced Harrow disappears into dark corners and goes on searches in obscure omninet spaces and comes back in a forbidden mech of ancient lore.

But also, consider: Harrow, mercenary contracted operative stranded on a destroyed ship, modifying the mech of her girlfriend who just died to get harrow here safe, and coming out crying and punching the pirates who did it to oblivion

Or a brand of mechs with NHPs who call themselves necromancers bonded to their cavaliers, and fight as a tandem, the cavalier shooting and moving and the NHP hacking enemies and protecting their mech

#Lancer #lancer rpg #tlt #the locked tomb #gtn spoilers #the second in a ghengis #the third claim to be two NHPs but there's a very fucked up horus operative hidding somewhere within the labiryinth of bab's minotaur #the fourth pilot a Enkidu #The fifth in a lancaster #the sixth run a very precise death's head #the seventh in what seems to be a very beautiful and big mourning cloak but it's a NHP's gorgon projecting that illusion #the 8th pilot a Nelson #and of course the ninth a lich but gideon finds it stupid

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dewitty1 · 2 months

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Fic Recs Wrap Up March 2024♡(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭*･:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

tissue of silver by fearlessdiva

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf. Rec Post

The Piano by shushu_yaoi_lj @orange-peony

He arrives on a boat during a particularly stormy day. Harry knew Astoria Greengrass had sent for a husband, someone to keep her company on the particularly dreary and dark winter days on this remote island. Harry didn’t know who it was she had arranged to be sent here. All he knew was that the weather was horrid today, and the Portkeys had never properly worked in this remote corner of the North Sea. The island was special, its magic working in odd and surprising ways. Rec Post

Turn From Stone by harryromper @harryromper

Something happened in the hours after the final battle, after the evacuation of the living and the dead. As the last of the survivors left the castle, and as the castle itself turned its wounded back on them all. The loss of Hogwarts has been felt by their entire community. And it’s something that needs to be put right. Harry knows there’s nothing he can do to stop Hermione (war hero, historian, author of the reissued “Hogwarts: A History”) once she sets her mind to something. Even an extremely risky last-ditch effort to restore the ancient castle and lay its newest ghosts to rest. What he wasn’t counting on was her insistence that Draco Malfoy be part of the plan. Rec Post

With and Without You by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Harry and Draco realize that they’ve been living in the same building for the past five years, hiding from the Wizarding world in Muggle London for a variety of reasons. They grow unexpectedly close and Harry realizes that Draco’s relationship with his boyfriend is abusive, spiraling as he tries and fails to figure out how to help. In Harry’s rejection of the Wizarding world in general, he has fallen out of touch with his friends and his magical abilities, but has to reconnect with both in order to find himself again. Rec Post

Inevitable [Drarry] by violenttulips @violenttulips

After the war, Harry Potter becomes a talented Senior Auror with a penchant for injury in defense of his colleagues. Draco Malfoy leaves the country for five years and becomes an accomplished Specialty Healer. He comes back after he accepts a job at St. Mungo’s Hospital. When they meet again, it’s clear that Draco has changed significantly in the years since they attended Hogwarts together, and Harry finds himself strangely attracted to his former rival. But things never come easy for the Boy-Who-Lived, and that’s not about to change now. Rec Post

Learn To Fly by Ladderofyears @ladderofyears

January 2004: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are two of the finest Seekers in England, deadly rivals and secret lovers. As far as Draco is concerned, that’s how it’ll stay forever. He is betrothed to beautiful heiress Astoria Greengrass, and they are due to have a big summer wedding. Everything changes during a hotly fought Arrows versus Wimbourne game when Draco falls from his broom. To his huge shock, when Draco awakes in St Mungo’s, he discovers he is pregnant. What will Draco do, now everything in his tidily compartmentalised life has to change? Rec Post

He Comes Like a Thunderstorm by korlaena @korlaena

Draco is doing his best to balance the life he wants to live and the life he’s forced to live. He’s nearing the tail-end of a long, post-war probation when Harry Potter crashes back into his life with all the grace of a charging Erumpent, breaking through his carefully constructed rules and routine. Caught up in a whirlwind of sex and lust, Potter unwittingly shows Draco that his life as an Incubus doesn’t have to be as lonely and unfulfilling as he thought, but how long can it last? Rec Post

Denouement by the_never_was

Pale face in paler hands, he is devoid of color. He is only the moonlight. And he wonders if he’ll find the sun. A story about Draco entering a period of change that will either shatter him or enfold him into Harry Potter’s world. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

Stalking Harry by orphan_account

Harry Potter is the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is a disgraced ex-Death Eater with emotional baggage and a bit of a crush.

Through His Eyes (I Am Set Free) by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Harry and Draco have a telepathic connection that remains unexplained in both the Muggle and wizarding worlds. Draco is assigned a mission by Voldemort to locate and capture the Boy Who Lived-- the trouble is that they don't know anything about him. While Draco struggles to gather information on this mysteriously absent hero, he and Harry start communicating again for the first time since they were kids. Harry continues life as normal until he discovers information which compels him to abandon his ordinary Muggle life with the endeavor to rescue and emancipate his only friend-- even if that means bartering with his own life.

A Private Reason for This by Femme (femmequixotic) @femmequixotic

When the wife of a star politician in the Scottish Ministry turns up dead just outside Hogsmeade, Draco Malfoy and his murder investigation team are called in from the Edinburgh Auror force to find her killer. What DCI Malfoy doesn't expect, however, is to have an ex from two decades past end up in his murder room, endangering not only his case, but also his heart.

Consequences of Redemption by bobbirose @ominousflags

When Draco makes an impromptu decision to rescue Harry Potter from Malfoy Manor, the two find themselves completely alone and facing the looming climax of the war against Voldemort. Harry must start from the beginning with Draco--and starting over has more consequences than either of them anticipated.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all! xoxo Carey (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

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dracowars · 2 years

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hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on fred weasley in which y/n is a pureblood slytherin who went from an enemies to lovers relationship with fred. lately she started feeling like she isn't enough for him and that she's disappointing her family with their secret affair. so she starts taking a distance from him and sinks into some kind of depression; she always suffered with self worth issues and confidence, always thinking she wouldn't be up to the standards her parents set for her. but she never showed it, not even to fred. he notices her change in behaviour and gets worried, so he decides to confront her and they end up having a huge and angsty argument.

thanks :)

define me | fred weasley

pairing: fred x syltherin!reader

word count: 1,9k

summary: where y/n feels like her relationship with fred is doomed

a/n: trying to go through all my requests in my holidays!! hope you enjoy this one <3

warnings: angst

universe: harry potter

„If that isn’t the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world right there!”, a cheerful voice calls out behind you, after you have just made your way out of the greenhouses from your Herbology class and in the direction of the castle. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn to the origin of the voice and are immediately drawn into a tight hug that, admittedly, you did not see coming. Apparently the Weasley twins just finished their daily training session while you had to deal with a Venomous Tentacula.

“Stop it, Fred!”, you giggle softly as he begins to scatter soft kisses across your face while continuing to give you all the compliments that come to his mind, which his twin brother does not approve of either as his face kind of turns into a shade of green.

“Gross, get a room”, George chokes out, while you are not sure how much of it he is faking and what is actually real, but at least he manages to stop his brother with his words.

“Just don’t pay attention to him, he is just an annoying ringing in the ear and pretty jealous that his last date did not go as well”, Fred winks at you, causing you to laugh out loud. “How about we sneak out to the lake tonight? Just the two of us?”

“Sounds great”, you smile and gently kiss him, which George comments on with another gag. Running your hands over your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, you adjust his Quidditch uniform while grinning to yourself. “I think your brother wants to go and unfortunately, I have to go to Potions now.”

“Alright, see you tonight, my love”, Fred smiles, kissing you one last goodbye before the two of them wave you goodbye and disappear into the castle. Absorbed in your dreamy thoughts, you look after them and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but when you suddenly hear footsteps behind you, your posture stiffens and the voices you now hear make you shiver. These voices never mean anything good.

“Oh, how adorable! But what would Mommy and Daddy Y/L/N say if they knew their only daughter and heiress to their empire is dating a Weasley?”, Pansy Parkinson’s annoying voice says behind you, her words making your heart beat faster. You and Fred do not hide the fact that you are in a relationship, but you have always kept it low, especially in front of the Slytherins. Because each of them knows your family, and your family happens to be unaware of their daughters’ dishonorable actions, or, well, love interests.

“They always talk about you in such high tones, and they don’t even know that their daughter lies to their face every time, so cold and unscrupulous. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? My parents would kick me out of Hogwarts in a heartbeat and never let me leave the house again”, Daphne Greengrass adds, a wicked grin on her lips that is only made worse by the fact that you do not have a counter.

Because they are right. It is the truth.

As the only child of the Y/L/N family, you have always been in the spotlight, but not in a good way. You have never been allowed to make mistakes or make your own decisions or live the way you want or hang out with the people you want. Business dinners and balls are all you knew for a long time, events where they could present their flagship daughter to the world. They never realized the pressure they put on you. Or they did but did not care about it.

“Leave me alone”, are the only puny words you can manage to get out before rushing to the safety of the building. Their judgmental looks burn into the back of your head and their words entice you to take a detour, not to your next lesson but to your common room in the Slytherin dungeon, where you lie down on your bed and do not get up until the next morning. While doing so, you completely forgot that you actually had plans with Fred in the evening and instead spent your time trying to avoid your parents’ looks from the family photo next to your bed. Without success, because you can clearly feel their disappointment and the consequences of your actions incredibly scare you, which is why you make a decision for your own sake.

Even if it means you have to break the heart of the boy who was always there for you when your family was not.

════════════

The numerous voices swirling around you just echo to you through a tunnel as you sit listlessly in front of your breakfast, your stomach heavy. You do not dare to raise your eyes for fear you might make eye contact with someone. Lonely, you sit at the end of the table, the other Slytherins paying little attention to the fact that one of them separates themselves from the group.

When a plate falls to the ground with a loud crash at a table next to you, shattering into many pieces, you startle and reflexively look in that direction. Which turns out to be a huge mistake, because your eyes meet Fred’s in a second, who is smiling at you from across the hall. He does not look the tiniest bit disappointed that you dumped him, he just seems happy that you are sitting here this morning. With the first of the day approaching, the first few students rise and scurry to the exit of the Great Hall, trying to make it to their classrooms in time.

Fred, who has not taken his eyes off you, gets up at the exact same moment you do. Noticing this, you quicken your steps and duck among the crowd of students that are gathering in the hallways. You ignore the fact that he calls after you before you fully disappear into the crowd and go straight to your lesson.

Relieved that you could manage to avoid him all day, you leave the room after class, your backpack over your shoulder and a book under your right arm. However, you do not expect Fred to be waiting for you in the hallway with his back against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and you immediately turn away, going in the other direction, but it is too late. If he did not notice before that you are avoiding him, he definitely noticed now when he runs after you, standing in front of you to block your way.

“Fred, I am in a hurry”, you say with your head down and walk past him, but he grabs your arms, lifting you off the ground briefly before placing you directly in front of him again. No more escape.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, he asks directly, which only makes you more insecure. Your trembling hands grip the book tighter, as if it could give you strength to get through what is about to come.

“I am not avoiding you, I just really don’t have time to-”

“Did I do something wrong?”, Fred asks worried and sad, making your heart ache even more. The fact that he immediately related all of it to himself does not make it any easier for you to say the next few words, but you know you have to.

“I don’t think this works, Fred”, you say emotionlessly, but your shaky voices gives your true feelings away. Still, the shock creeping up on his face is unbearable.

“Wait, wait.. What? What are you even talking about?”, he prompts, as if he did not quite understand what you were saying, even though you both know perfectly what you just hinted at.

“I am just saying.. We are too different. You are a Gryffindor, I am Slytherin. It just doesn’t fit”, you explain and as soon as the words leave your lips realize that this will not be the point that ultimately convinces him. Because it sounds stupid. Because it is stupid.

“Who put such nonsense in your head?”, Fred laughs, but there is no humor in it. “Was it that Pansy Parkinson again? What did she say this time-”

“No, Fred. It’s my decision, no one told me anything and if you will excuse me now, I have classes that require my presence”, you brush him off and due to the complete state of shock Fred is in right now, he lets you pass him. He does not notice the tear that runs down your cheek as you do.

“So I am supposed to just accept that you are breaking up with me, leaving me without any proper explanation?”, he finally calls after you in a loud voice. But what makes you stop are not his words, but the sadness that resonates with them. Your heart breaks a bit more at the sound.

“Fred..”

“You dumped me yesterday without telling me. I didn’t know where you were, I didn’t know what happened or if you were okay. I was worried sick just for you to ignore me the whole day and then tell me it is over between us?”, he says, hurt and confused by what is happening at the moment, unable to understand why you are suddenly feeling this way. “I am sorry, but I don’t think what you are saying is true.”

“How so? Because I always lie?”

“No, that is not-”

“Alright, Fred, I got it. Everything always has to be up to you”, you claim, getting too involved in this arising argument. If he had just accepted your decision, it would have been less painful for both of you.

“It is not fair, Y/N. If you really want to end this between us, then I also deserve to know why”, Fred replies and takes another step towards you so that you can see the pain in his eyes even better now. His gaze holds yours and when you think you see tears forming in his eyes, all damns in you break all of a sudden.

“You want to know why?! Because I am no good for you, Fred. I am a bad person. We should not even exist as a couple because it is doomed to fail anyway! I am not allowed to associate with the people I like and choose myself. I am and always have been the pride of my family and I will not let them down just because I am with someone like you-”

You cannot finish your emotional outburst as Fred pulls you into the bone-crushing hug you so desperately needed, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. He runs his hand over your hair, the back of your head, and your back in an attempt to calm you down and stop your tears.

“Who your parents are doesn’t define who you are, Y/N”, he whispers softly in your ear as you violently sob in his strong arms, that hold you upright to not let you sink on the cold floor. “You are the most incredible witch I have ever met, and your parents must be so incredibly proud of you, there is no other way. You have always done what they asked of you, but it is finally time for you to be selfish. I won’t lose you over this. I won’t allow it.”

Fred’s words patch your heart back together in seconds and make it pound faster than ever. You know he is right and you do not have to bow to your parents’ demands anymore. But there is still a long way to go before you can fully accept yourself as you are and be proud of yourself at the same time. Fred will be with you every step on this journey.

“Maybe our relationship isn’t the end, but it’s the beginning.”

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