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lovebotmo · 4 months

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like the movies

chapter three - caramel creams

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 2311

author's note: omg ive been feeling stuck working on this chapter for days so thanks for your patience and as always, hope you like this next chapter. so so thankful for all of you who have commented on my previous chapters!!!!!!!!! kiss kiss

i've also started a taglist so message me if you want to be included!!

song inspiration: you're here that's the thing by beabadoobee

A week had passed, and you still knew diddly-squat regarding the mysterious guy who had generously sent you the bouquet of moly blossoms and the adjoining note. Glances over classmate’s shoulders to peer at their handwriting were unfruitful and almost landed you in detention when McGonagall had noted your lack of attention in Transfiguration. Whoever your secret admirer was, he had made sure to cover his tracks and frustratingly stump you. No additional clue found its way to you, and no one came forward.

You’d even gone to Professor Sprout earlier in the week to inquire about her moly plants and determine if your mystery man had procured the flowers from her, or alternatively, stolen them. She’d answered in the negative to both—no one had come to her regarding your bouquet, and she wasn’t missing any stock. However, she did echo the sentiment you and Hermione had shared, that whoever he was, he had spent a great deal of money to impress you.

You rolled over in bed to peer at the blooms decorating your bedside. They were still darling as ever. However, they were a constant reminder you had no clue as to who had sent them.

If the guy really fancied me, he’d know this must be driving me mad.

You pulled the covers over your head, groaning, before resolving to go down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Your little quandary wasn’t going to be solved anytime soon, and your stomach shouldn’t suffer for it.

Joining your friends in the Great Hall, Ginny noticed you were a little quieter than normal. “You alright there, Y/n?” Breaking your reverie, you smiled at the red-headed Weasley before stuffing a piece of jam-smothered toast into your mouth.

Your muffled and somewhat undiscernible reply of “’M all good, thanks” was met with a laugh from Ginny and a scolding from Hermione to slow down while eating.

“I’ve got to hurry, ‘Mione,” you said between bites, “otherwise I’ll be late for the Hogsmeade trip. Need to clear my mind for a bit.” Hermione watched in horror at the speed with which you downed the toast, practically throwing a napkin at you when she noticed the jam lingering in the corners of your mouth. You grinned sheepishly at her.

“Still no clue then, I reckon?” Padma asked. You just shook your head, turning to dive into some fried eggs. While you had hoped to be discreet about the whole situation, you had wanted your friends’ opinions, as well as their help, in searching for your secret admirer. However, you had no such luck and your friends were just as clueless.

“It’s kind of dreamy, don’t you think? The whole not-knowing part and the expectation of another clue or a gift. To think someone in this room sent you those lovely flowers!” Hannah seemed more excited about it than you did.

“Oh, come off it. We all know it’s killing Y/n not to know—I’ll bet you she was the kid who would shake her presents under the Christmas tree to try and figure out what they were. Maybe even peer through a hole in the wrapping paper to sneak a peek, eh?” Ginny joked, nudging your arm.

The glare you sent Ginny let her know she had hit the nail on the head.

“Can I see the note again?” asked Luna. Pulling it from your pocket, you handed it to the waifish girl, with Padma peering over her shoulder. As she handed it back, you noticed the certain degree of softness the parchment now had, caused by the countless folding, unfolding, and gentle tracing of the letters by your fingertips. You looked at it once more before tucking it back in.

“Well,” you said, rising from your seated position, “enough of that. I’ve got a date with fizzing whizzbees at Honeydukes, and I will not let you lot make me late!” Laughing, the five girls stood up to join you and began to make their way out of the Great Hall.

Upon arriving in Hogsmeade, the six of you split up to run various errands or meet other friends. Luna joined you on the trip to Honeydukes, desiring to pick up some pepper imps, which she believed would ward off nargles from settling in her hair. You just nodded at your endearing, albeit strange friend. Nodding was oftentimes the best thing to do when Luna said something particularly…off. Upon entering the candy store, you separated from the blond Ravenclaw to fulfill your particular errand.

“Mr. Flume!” You called out to the elderly proprietor of Honeydukes. He smiled once he placed your voice. Your acquaintance with Ambrosius Flume and his wife had begun in your third year, on your very first trip to Hogsmeade. Over the years, you’d heard countless stories about the store and its fantastical sweet treats. As such, when you were finally of age, you had been extremely excited to finally visit. Upon entry, in your typical coordinated fashion, you had managed to slip on and fall due to the bat’s blood soup Neville Longbottom had managed to spill all over the checkered floor. Spotting the tears quickly forming in your eyes, courtesy of your pain and embarrassment, Mrs. Flume had helped you off the floor and fixed you a cup of hot chocolate while you amused her husband with various accounts of muggle delicacies and candies. Since then, you had made it a habit to bring him a muggle candy of some sort to try, proving that even though muggle treats had no real magic in them, they could still be magical. In turn, he would trade one of his newest treats for you to try.

Finally meeting through the frenzied crowd of Honeydukes, Mr. Flume clasped one of your hands in both of his, giving it a hearty squeeze. “How have you been, dearie? Brought me something today, did you?”

You laughed at his eagerness. “You only want me for my muggle sweets, don’t’ you? How incorrigible.”

The two of you giggled like children before you pulled out the promised sweet. This time, you had brought him a small bag of Goetze’s caramel creams, also known as bullseyes. As silly as it might seem, the candies were close to your heart, something you had enjoyed with your mother as a child, eating away at the chewy caramel outside and the sweet cream filling.

“They’re my absolute favorite, you know. And after four years of exchanging candies with you, I insist you stock them just for me. Waiting for packages from my mum to get my fix is simply too difficult.”

Mr. Flume laughed at your dramatics before pocketing the sweets. “You know how much I enjoy these little exchanges with you, poppet. I’ve got something new for you to try, straight from my little lady’s oven.” Reaching into the pocket of his worn apron, he pulled out a pastry of some sort wrapped in brown paper. “Mrs. Flume calls ‘em ‘Cheering Cherry Tarts,’ ‘spose to boost your spirit for a few hours if you can imagine that. Hope you like it.” With that, he left with an affectionate pat on your arm before going to assist some of the other customers.

Taking one bite of the pastry, you had to resist the urge to moan at how delicious it was.

If you knew one thing about Mrs. Flume, it was that the woman could cook.

Scarfing down the tart, you grabbed a box of toffees and glacial snowflakes to bring back with you. After checking out, you made your way to The Three Broomsticks where you had agreed to meet to meet up with your friends after you completed your errands.

You quickly spotted your friends within the tavern. Padma was sporting several shopping bags from Gladrags Wizardwear, while Ginny and Hannah had popped into Zonko’s to pick up some stink pellets intended for the Gryffindor first-years. Ginny was more than happy to continue the pranking tradition her older brothers had begun at Hogwarts, and Hannah was always game for a good laugh. Hermione sat quietly at the table twirling one of her new quills. At the sight you let out a small chuckle. Hermione was many things, but she was not someone to pass up on purchasing new stationary. She was practically besotted whenever she saw a fine quill.

Joining the gaggle of girls, you all went over your purchases, ordering some treats and drinks, gossiping about various happenings at Hogwarts, and just enjoying the general splendor of The Three Broomsticks and its ambience. As much as you enjoyed your classes, moments like these were what you would miss most upon your graduation in the spring. It brought a little twinge to your heart, the bittersweet thought of leaving, but you were excited for the future and to see what your dearest friends would go on to do.

Your reminiscing and get-together, however, was interrupted by increasingly loud voices from a corner table. Imagining it to be some drunkards, you turned, only to see Nott and Malfoy arguing over something that had the two Slytherins particularly heated. While you had no idea what had started their spat, it was easy to tell that Malfoy had somehow provoked Nott who became increasingly incensed. Towering over the blonde, Nott continued to spew verbal fire at him and despite his best effort to hide it, you could tell that Malfoy was intimidated.

“Chi mi piace non sono affari tuoi, Malfoy. Restane fuori!” While you didn’t understand the Italian rapidly leaving Nott’s mouth, you could tell how angry he was. As he was about to continue his verbal assault, he caught your eyes and likely the look of concern on your face. His face relaxed and his next words seemed to slip his mind. Sparing one more withering glance at Malfoy, he quickly stormed out of the tavern and conversation slowly recommenced.

“Wonder what started that little fight,” wondered Padma, picking up her glass of butterbeer.

Turning back, you shrugged, “No idea.”

The six of you left The Three Broomsticks shortly after, realizing that you would have to return to Hogwarts soon. You linked your arm with Ginny as she chatted about her intended strategies for the upcoming Quidditch season. Walking towards the train station, you noticed Nott in the distance, trekking in the opposite direction of the Hogwarts Express.

Didn’t he know that the train would be leaving soon?

Removing your arm from Ginny’s, you excused yourself. “I’ll meet you guys on the train, alright? Save me a seat.” With that, you quickly followed the retreating Slytherin.

“Don’t be late, Y/n! You can’t be losing house points this early in the year!” yelled Hermione.

When you finally caught up to Nott, he was sitting on a bench located on the path that headed towards the Shrieking Shack. He was staring into the distance, those brooding eyes of his lost in thought. Hearing the crunch of autumn leaves beneath your feet, his head swiveled towards your approaching figure. He stood in surprise before sitting again. You sat down beside him.

Bumping his shoulder with your own, you asked, “Something on your mind, Nott? You seem a little…out of it.”

At the sound of your voice, he left out a long sigh. “No—nothing. ‘M fine.” The clipped response made you raise a brow at him. The guy was not very good at lying, even if he was a Slytherin. “And…it’s Theo. Or, I mean, you can call me Theo.” Those blue eyes returned to you, accompanied by the faintest of smiles.

“Alright then, Theo. What’s got your wand in a knot…Or should I say N-o-t-t?” You let out a small laugh, winking at him as he gave you a look somewhere between horrified and disgusted.

“I don’t even want to dignify that with a response.”

“It was right there! I had to.”

“You definitely did not.”

“Don’t you mean…did N-o-t-t?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” He paused, before continuing, “Do you think it’s too late to request a new Potions partner? I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the year at this rate.”

You gasped in mock horror, lightly knocking him on the arm, “Oh please Theo, I’m a peach. You adore me.” You didn’t notice how Theo stiffened at your retort, your eyes turning to the autumn trees lining the path.

“That was quite a scene in there, you and Draco. Fighting over anything in particular?”

Theo let out a huff of hot air through his nose, “No…it’s just—Malfoy’s a fucking prat.”

A bark of laughter left you at his response. “Could have told you that in first year, Theo. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.” At that, he laughed, and you were happy to see a grin finally grace his normally stoic face.

“Now c’mon,” you said standing, “we’ve got to get going if we don’t want to miss the train. Godric knows how much trouble I’ll be in with my housemates if we don’t make it in time.”

Theo stood and joined you in walking back towards the platform, a comfortable silence falling over you two. He seemed to have snapped out of whatever funk had clouded his mind, as he was soon making small talk and a few jokes as you got closer.

Just before you boarded the train, Theo grasped your elbow gently to turn you towards him. He was at your eye level then, as you had stepped onto the first step of the express. You looked at him with questioning eyes. “Sorry, um—just wanted to say thanks.” At your furrowed brow he added, “for checking on me, I mean.”

You smiled at him. “Course. After all, what are Potions partners for?” At that, he returned your smile, his bright blue eyes crinkling a little at the edges.

Huh. Cute.

taglist: @melllinaa

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poguestarkey · 7 months

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not in the same way- t.n.

back after a quick 8 month hiatus my b

decided to write a little blurb about reader not being in love with theo since i feel like it's always the other way around.

yes i am eating up the tiktok ideas of him being italian don't start w me

warnings: just angst on angst, destruction of a friendship, theo being sad (that's a trigger in and of itself tbh), sickly sweet adorable girlhood moment btwn the GryffGirlies, like one potty word, i plucked that one scene right out of TSITP don't come for me, horrifyingly unedited cuz i just dont care

theo nott x gryffindor!reader

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Dread.

That's all that washes over you when you finally meet his eyes. It runs ice-cold through your veins and you can practically hear what he's going to say before it even leaves his mouth. You're sure he can see the way your head shakes slowly as you realize because he reaches for your hand and holds it tightly between his. Not out of comfort, but as a plead.

Please, please don't do what I think you're going to.

Theo... oh, sweet Theo. Theo, with his huge blue eyes and endlessly large heart. Theo, always the first to celebrate the small wins with you. Theo, who in theory, should be the perfect man for you.

But Theo, who no matter how hard you tried, never made your heart sing the way your friends giggled about.

You never thought twice about the way his hands would linger over yours as he explained Arithmancy problems or how he always pulled you close in by the shoulder while chatting with his Slytherin friends, his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns into your sweater. His sweater. You've been friends since third-year, best friends. So many years of being close to him desensitized you to the constant comments of "That's Nott's girl," and "Would you look at the lovebirds!" They never hit home and you always scoffed them off with ease.

With ease, until last weekend in your dorm after an open-mic night at the Three Broomsticks. You and Theo had performed the most atrocious duet rendition of the new Weird Sisters song, "Why Can't You See."

"Y/N, do you even see the way he looks at you?" Parvati asked. Your head shoots up this.

"What?"

"C'mon, Y/N/N. The man is absolutely smitten with you. It's almost painful to watch, really," Lavender piped in, causing Hermione and Padma to sit up and join the conversation. Eyes widening, you realize who they're talking about.

"Theo? No... No, Theo and I are just-" You're cut off.

"Just friends. We've heard. A million times," Hermione sighs. "I mean Merlin's beard Y/N, you have to have noticed by now. Nott can't keep his hands off of you."

"'Mione, that's not- no, that's different. He just likes physical touch and that's fine-" You're cut off yet again by a slurry of teenage girls throwing evidence at you.

"-ever touch Malfoy-"

"-actually lights up when you enter a room, I've never-"

"-bigger heart eyes for you if they were cartooned on him in the Prophet-"

Your hands grow shaky and your breath becomes heavy in your lungs as the weight of what this means washes over you. Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you fight the burn in the back of your sinuses with everything you have.

"Wait!" Hermione nearly shouts, and the cacophony of squeals and stories comes to a halt. "Y/N? Why are you crying? Are you alright?"

Her words make the first sob break out of your chest, and your hand shoots to your mouth to try and stifle the sound. Padma, ever the lover, is immediately at your side.

"I- I- I can't... I don't lo- if he really feels that way, it will destroy us," you cry, leaning further into her touch. Quickly, and with increasing amount of concern written on their features, the rest of the girls surround you.

"What do you mean, love?" you can't see her, but you know it's Lavender's breathy voice. "Isn't this a good thing?"

"No, no, no, no-" Your breath begins to hitch again, and 'Mione rubs gentle circles on your back. "Lav, him being in love with me is the worst thing that could happen."

"I don't mean to be insensitive, but the rest of us are quite out of the loop here and, er, well- why?" You let out a chuckle at Parvati's bluntness, but still felt the squeeze of the answer in your heart. You've known, deep down. You denied it as hard as you could manage but still, it creeped up on you, terrorizing your thoughts.

"He will never forgive me. I know he'll try so hard, but it'll never be the same, because he will never forgive me for not loving him the same way. Because he's done everything right. He is kind, and patient, and loving, and all of the wonderful things I've always said that I wanted but still, I just don't love him like that. And I want to- fuck, I want to so bad. It kills me that I can't. But he can never know that I know, because he will never, ever forgive me when I can't say it back." The last few words come out nearly inaudible as gasping sobs take over your body. "And I am so afraid to lose my best friend."

A squeeze from Hermione saves you from your thoughts. No one knows what to say, and Padma pulls your pillow and quilt from underneath you before grabbing her own, forming a pile on the floor. The corners of your lips perk up as you realize what she's doing, and soon the room is filled again with the sounds of girlish giggles and gossip and your four closest girlfriends do their best to keep your chin up for you.

The rest of the week, you can hardly look Theo in the eyes. You're not trying to avoid him, but every time you're in the same room you feel so overcome with guilt that it's hard to breathe.

On Sunday, you skip breakfast and hole away in the library under a stack of potions textbooks, shooing him away with a curt "Sorry, Teddy. Too busy."

Monday, you sit at Gryffindor's table for every meal and only speak in DADA to tell him it's his turn to practice defensive spells.

It's Tuesday night when you get the owl.

Y/N/N,

please talk to me. i need to see you, i'm worried. you're not alright.

i miss you.

-T

You write him back on the same piece of parchment, your shaking hands causing ink to splatter into tiny dots across his script.

I know. I'm sorry. Friday night.

Wednesday and Thursday are a blur of forced smiles to him and the burn of his stare from across the Charms classroom.

Friday comes, and you're damn near ready to pull Mrs. Norris' tail just to get a detention.

You know the exact bench in the courtyard he'll be sat at, and you count your paces as you walk. His eyes catch you and he swings his feet off the ledge, shutting his book.

"Y/N," He breathes, the sweetest smile on his face. "What's going on, cara mia?"

Every strategy you had for keeping him away from the elephant in the room goes flying out of your head faster than a Firebolt.

"It's nothing, really. Please don't worry. I know I've been distant but it's really nothing to be concerned about so-" your voice is getting louder and faster, a tell-tale sign that you're not telling the truth.

He cuts you off with your name.

"Y/N." You're eternally thankful that it's late enough that no one is outside with you. "Tell me what's happened. Please." His eyes grow even larger with pure concern and he moves his hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You pull your lip between your teeth while thinking about how to respond.

"I just... Teddy, I can't tell you. I just can't. I promise it's alright, I just don't want to talk about it." You're lying through your teeth and you're sure he knows it too.

"Alright," he whispers, voice dropping. His hand hasn't moved from the side of your face since he fixed your hair, and his eyes move to scan the slope of your lips. You can feel the pit in your stomach start to form as you fear what's coming next. "You are the most beautiful thing on this planet, you know that?"

His thumb is tracing the plane of your cheek.

"Theodore..." He smiles at his full name, and his eyes start to close.

No.

This is what you feared so much.

That you would lose everything over one moment, just like this.

He can't be more than a breath from your mouth when both of your palms find his firm chest and push him away.

"Wait- wait, Theo. No. I don't- I'm sorry, but I-" His eyes snap open, that beautiful blue full of confusion. "I'm sorry, Theo." You can already feel hot tears threatening to spill over, and your stomach is churning.

"I.... What?" He says it so quietly you aren't even sure he meant to say it aloud. His hands move from your face, now salty and wet, to run through his hair, tugging on the strands.

"That's what I've been off about. I've been scared that you're gonna..." You gesture wildly between the two of you, not sure what to call it.

"Kiss you?"

"Yes."

"Why would you be scared of me kissing you, Y/N?" He looks genuinely, honestly puzzled.

"Because... because I don't... I didn't know, and then this weekend the girls were all on about it and I had no idea what they were talking about, and they told me, and I just panicked, Theo. I had no idea." He's stood up now, and you're seconds behind him, standing still in the chilly air as he paces and presses his hands into his eyes. "If I'd known sooner, Teddy... I would've- I could've done something, I don't know, could've tried-"

He stops, now just in front of you. "If you knew?"

"If I knew that you felt that way-"

"I thought you knew!" The crack of his voice splits your chest in two, unaided by the tears beading in his eyes. You've never seen him cry. "I thought you knew! From the moment I crashed your cabin on the train, I thought you knew."

The two of you just stand there, staring at each other, as cold, biting raindrops start to fall from the sky. You fight to form words but absolutely comes to your brain and you can't do anything but stare at him as he continues.

He hasn't even opened his mouth to start the next sentence when you realize what you're going to hear. You can't tell if it's the rain or the pure dread coursing through your veins that's turning your fingers ice-cold as you shake your head "no" to something he hasn't even said yet.

"I've been in love with you since I was 13, Y/N/N." He's holding onto your hand with both of his like it's his only lifeline while he desperately spills words. "I am so in love with you. You turn my world. You are my absolute everything. It consumes me. I can't hold it anymore, Y/N," He cries. Your eyes are squeezed shut and it's a wonder you haven't broken his hand with how tightly you're holding it between you. "Please, please, please say something."

"I love you," He sucks in a breath and you open your eyes to meet his. "I love you so much, Teddy. More than anything." His hands are now on either side of your face, and your fingers are laced around his wrists. "But I'm not in love with you," You choke out, grip relaxing.

His forehead presses against yours and he does nothing to quiet to sobs racking his body as you pull him against you, wrapping your arms around his warm frame.

You whisper dozens of apologies and "I wish I dids" into his ear before he releases you and sits back on the bench, moving the thoroughly soaked book to the side so you can join him. His head is in his hands and his elbows rest on his knees, and you think that you've never seen him look so defeated.

Finally, you tear your eyes away from him and stare straight ahead at the ivy covered walls, praying that the silence swallows you whole.

It's practically deafening, actually, because the sound of his heart breaking is echoing across the stone.

Eventually, you speak up.

"I think... I think I should probably go, right?"

He picks his head up but doesn't look at you as he replies:

"Yeah, I think that's for the best."

#theo nott #theo nott angst #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #slytherin #harry potter #theo #nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott blurb #theo nott sad

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ellieauthor · 1 year

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As her charity event draws to a close, Hermione is tired, but pleased.

The crowd is larger than she’d dared to hope for, and heavily engaged, friends and admirers cheering and whistling with each new announcement. The night has gone smoothly, no hitches or scandals. And with one bachelor left, the rest should be easy.

She smiles to herself from where she stands just off-stage as the inevitable crowd favorite is announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our final lot for tonight...Draco Malfoy!”

He walks onstage with faltering steps, handsome as ever but lacking his usual cock-sure attitude. The man is nervous.

She feels a flash of something. Is it…pity?

They’d come up with a strategy for tonight, and it’d gone almost exactly according to plan.

Almost.

Ginny had won Blaise easily, avoiding any need to share her boyfriend.

Theo had (dramatically) over-bid on Harry, happy to publicly embarrass his husband for a good cause. Plus, he knew the large sum would be good publicity for his firm.

But then Pansy, meant to protect Draco from misguided witches with delusions of betrothal contracts, had gotten…distracted.

Viktor Krum offering to participate had been a boon for Hermione’s Charity Bachelor Auction. The addition of such a high-profile celebrity brought in significant interest and advanced press coverage, and Hermione had known Viktor would be a good sport about the whole thing. It had been an easy decision with no foreseeable downside.

Until a glassy-eyed Pansy Parkinson had used all the galleons she’d brought to bid on Malfoy to secure a date with the international Quidditch star, leaving the tall, sought-after blonde on stage looking vulnerable and unsure.

Hermione offers him an encouraging smile.

He grimaces in return.

It’ll be fine, though. Right?

It has to be.

Her event can’t be the thing that forces him back into marriage dates after years of successful avoidance. Narcissa would be over the moon, of course. But Hermione would feel terrible.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Padma, a mutual friend with a known preference for witches, bids. A platonic date would solve all of their problems.

Her relief is short-lived.

The crowd parts to reveal a determined-looking Astoria Greengrass raising a paddle in response.

Malfoy’s panicked eyes find Hermione’s.

Please, he mouths. Desperate.

Her heart aches for him.

He’s a good friend, has been since eighth year.

He’s also a great backup date for functions, far more attentive than any of her exes. He has impeccable manners, grabbing her drinks and anticipating her needs before she has a chance to ask for anything. And he’s particularly great at subverting awkward conversations.

He’s gone to dozens of stuffy affairs, and he’s never asked for anything in return.

Until now.

Ron, who’d volunteered to MC when Lav refused to let him participate as a bachelor, calls for final bids.

Hermione sighs.

It’s not smart. Instead of the cause, this will be the story in tomorrow’s Prophet.

But he’s begging her with those sad, puppy-dog eyes.

Resigned, she steps onto the stage and raises her paddle.

A hush falls over the auditorium, a sudden blanket of near-silence.

Through the quiet, someone in the crowd actually gasps. Which is ridiculous; their friendship has been well-documented. Hermione suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

Astoria keeps bidding, and so does Hermione. In minutes they’ve promised more than the event had previously earned twice over.

Hermione is going to murder Pansy.

When they hit a landmark sum, Astoria finally backs off, and Hermione is pronounced the winner to a tittering crowd.

She walks on stage, giving Malfoy a perfunctory embrace.

“You’re paying me back,” she whispers.

He returns it, gripping tightly, wrapping her in a warm embrace. A warm, friendly embrace. “Every knut,” he agrees, his voice a low growl. Not gratitude, but something else.

A shiver travels up her spine. Which is silly, of course. This is Draco Malfoy. Her friend.

“We don’t have to go on the date,” she says as they’re engulfed by the din of the applauding crowd. “I know the organizer, she’ll let it slide.” See? It’s funny. One big joke, nothing more.

“Granger.” It sounds like a warning, but he won’t let her pull back. “I’m taking you on the best date of your life.”

He kisses her then, swallowing her confusion, and it’s even better than she remembers.

Before they were friends, there’d been that one kiss that one night that neither of them had talked about after.

The one she thinks of sometimes after a bad day, or a bad date, or a particularly long dry spell.

Blood pounds in her ears as the crowd responds enthusiastically to the new development. Hermione looks around wildly–at Ron, in the announcer’s stand. Out at the crowd. Anywhere but Draco’s intense eyes, trained on her.

From the back of the room, Pansy gives her the kind of encouraging glare only she is capable of.

In fact, all of their friends are watching them, rather expectantly.

She finally meets his gaze, and finds him grinning. “I don’t understand.”

“Parks’s been hot for Krum for ages. She begged me to let her out of our deal,” he says, with a carefully practiced shrug. “Seemed like a good time to try something I’ve wanted for ages, too.”

“...And you just left it up to chance?” she asks, suspiciously.

“Of course not,” he scoffs, leading her from the spotlight as though she’d already agreed to the date. “Who do you think talked Astoria into bidding?”

A Malfoy always gets what he wants.

#dramione drabble #dhr drabble #dhr #dhr ficlet #dramione ficlet #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #ellieauthor

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photoblogdujour · 1 year

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To continue with our extensive coverage of Tree Germander news and issues, it is important for you to hit like on the PBDJ Tree Germander posts, so that we know to continue with this level of capital investment in Tree Germander reporting at the PhotoBlogDuJour Multi-Horticultural Center and Kimono Dragon/Orangutan Breeding Compound. If the likes do not follow, we will be forced to excavate major portions of the acreage currently planted with Tree Germander and replace them with something that brings in the likes, such as Brazilian Dutchman's pipe, Giant Padma or corpse flowers.

#tree germander #blue flowers #flowers of tumblr #original photographers #photographers on tumblr #flowers #photography #macro

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ninja-muse · 6 months

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October was a month of tense, dark, violent books and I'm hoping to get some palate cleansers into my November reading before I completely OD on rebellions, murder, battles, and oppression. Not that I expect this to happen because I took home a true crime ARC last week and I know what's likely coming for me at the library, but hey. We can hope!

My reading count is once again lower than I'd like it to be, mostly because I refused to cart all 752 pages of Menewood back and forth on my commute and so it took me three weeks to finish in the bites of time I have at home for reading. (Also because I spent a week writing up a storm.) And my other stats are kind of equally disappointing as a result. Oh well, I guess. It is what it is.

I did get my hands on three anticipated library books though! That was good (and I hope the library keeps up the pace), but it's a shame that two of the three weren't as good as I was hoping they'd be. And equally a shame that I wound up DNFing the new Patricia C. Wrede… I was really hoping that might cut through all the doom and gloom, mid-month.

I need a good November, basically. I'm feeling a bit slumpy.

October was also a month of awesome 2024 release announcements and discoveries. There are so many books coming out I want to read, and a couple I didn't know where coming that showed up in my ARC haul. There's a genderbent fantasy retelling of Zorro, folks! Freya Marske, Micaiah Johnson, and Seanan McGuire are releasing exciting things! We're getting a sequel to one of my favourite SF books of last year! Someone is using American folktales to comment on race relations!

I'm sure my 2024 TBR will be an utterly normal and achievable number of books. And I'm sure all this excitement has had nothing to do with my slump.

I've still got a fair ways to go to hit my 2023 reading goals too. It's possible I might reach them. It's equally possible I might not. Wish me luck, I guess? And if you have any fast, light reads with which I can continue to not read the dark, heavy books in my goals, please pass them on!

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

Menewood - Nicola Griffith

War is coming to Deira and Hild has vowed to protect her lands and people.

9.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (bi), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic, mlm), mute secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author, #ownvoices for queerness

warning: pregnancy, death, war, death of a child, animal death, grief, sexual assault, mentions of rape

Like Every Form of Love - Padma Viswanathan

A writer digs into the strange, complicated life story of a man she befriended in a marina.

8/10

major 🏳️‍🌈 character (gay), Indo-Canadian author, 🇨🇦

warning: child abuse, domestic abuse, pedophilia, molestation, misogynistic character

After the Forest - Kell Wood

Greta wants to get on with her quiet life but her wayward brother Hans, suspicious villagers, and her memories of a certain witch’s cottage won’t let her.

7.5/10

warning: cruelty to animals, misogyny

Into the Windwracked Wilds - A. Deborah Baker

Avery, Zib, and their companions find themselves in the Land of Air—where the queen likes making monsters

7.5/10

Saga, Volume 9 - Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples (illustrator)

Bad people are catching up to Alana and Marko’s family.

7.5/10

main characters of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay, trans woman)

warning: major character death, blood, violence, sex

Shigidi and the Brass Head of Obulafon - Wole Talabi

Shigidi has incurred a debt to an old Nigerian orisha, who’ll erase it if he and his partner pull off a nearly impossible heist.

6.5/10

major and secondary Nigerian characters, major 🏳️‍🌈 character (pansexual), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (bisexual), Nigerian author, #ownvoices for race and culture

By Any Other Name - Erin Cotter

Will Hughes, unemployed actor, finds himself thrust into danger when his mentor Christopher Marlowe dies.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (bi, lesbian)

warning: murder, fire

My Roommate is a Vampire - Jenna Levine

There’s a room-to-rent in Cassie’s low, low budget. The (hot) guy renting it acts like he’s from the 1800s but surely he’s just quirky.

6.5/10

Jewish protagonist, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (m/m)

The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher - E.M. Anderson

Edna has been Chosen to stop a dragon menace. Highly untraditional but hey, it gets her out of the nursing home.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (ace-spectrum), Black secondary characters, Latine secondary characters, secondary character with anxiety disorder, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay, sapphic/asexual), 🏳️‍🌈 author

DNF

The Dark Lord’s Daughter - Patricia Wrede

Kayla and her family are kidnapped to a fantasy world. Apparently she has magic and they think she’s the next Dark Lady?

Black secondary characters

Currently reading:

The Water Outlaws - S.L. Huang When Lin Chong is convicted of a crime she didn’t commit, she finds herself allied with infamous outlaws.

Chinese cast, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian, genderfluid), mute secondary character, Chinese-American author, 🏳️‍🌈 author, #ownvoices for race, culture, queerness

warning: death, violence, torture

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

Stats

Monthly total: 9 Yearly total: 109/140 Queer books: 3 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 7 Authors outside the binary: 1 Canadian authors: 1 Off the TBR shelves: 3 Books hauled: 0 ARCs acquired: 5 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 1

January February March April May June July August September

#books #booklr #bookblr #reading wrap-ups #book recommendations #my photos #read in 2023

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hothothotch · 1 year

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𝟬𝟬. 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁...

... EVEN THOUGH NEITHER AARON NOR YOU KNEW HOW TO POINT OUT WHY.

For you, the day had gone by as usual — as the owner of a small but famous bakery shop in Boston, you were used to how life worked for most of your customers, and it had been long since their lives become a predictor of how your life (or at least your day) would work.

You knew that Mrs. Padma would show up at 10am with her daughter and son, and ask for their usual Miranda Cake — one of the basics, a chocolate cake with colorful sprinkles; the matriarch would talk quickly about her day, and how being a businesswoman in a country like the United States was hard, but rewarding (Mrs. Padma and her children had left India after her husband's passing, and with time and a lot of fight, she had conquered her place as one of the most successful women in Boston, if not Massachusetts. She was an inspiration, indeed). The kids were harder to predict: sometimes they'd be mad at each other, so they'd barely talk; sometimes they were overly excited about something and would talk their asses off as you divided your attention between their tales and another client that popped up looking for some sort of new cake flavor, only to set up for Red Velvet or something simpler (that would usually be Mr. Smith, the 93 years-old man with Alzheimer that insisted he had eaten a lemon cake the day before, even if this flavor never existed).

The Padma's had the habit of staying for a whole hour before Mrs. Padma decided it was time to take the kids to school (even if they were already too late, and you had the impression that the only reason they were still accepted there was because of their mother income).

They would have just left when Diana and Matthew arrived, around 11am. The couple, only a few years older than you, had the habit of asking you to "surprise them" with their order, and you'd do your best, even if you knew (and they did, too) that they had already tried every flavor on your bakery shop — except, of course, for the cakes that had strawberries on its recipe, since Diana was terribly allergic to it (which had forced you to adapt a lot of your recipes, so she wouldn't have to lose any especially good flavor). That morning they had gone for Marisa and Peter — vanilla and a cheesecake, respectively.

Diana and Matthew were both teachers at the same University, and they had been invited to give lectures in different schools in Boston to students that were close to their High School Graduation — as far as you knew, they'd stay for only three months, and you were already dreading the day they'd return to their home in London. The couple was the amazing kind of couple that had time to come, but never to go away; and even if they didn't spend hours proving different cake flavors, their mere presence around there seemed to make the day 100% better.

When the clock hit 12pm, the phone rang. You implemented a delivery service months ago when your research pointed out that it could improve your income — this didn't mean, in any capacity, that you didn't know who was calling. Again, your client's routine had become your routine.

"Always on time, George".

George Foyet was one of the original clients at your bakery, and the most unpredictable; he was already a client when your shop became famous, and when you decided to invest in the delivery system, he immediately stepped up and offered himself as "bait". You knew he had done it solely because George was an agoraphobic — or so you thought, considering he mostly refused to go out when he could stop it.

You could relate, to some extent. While both of you had gone through the same painful experience, you knew the way you and your family dealt with it was way different from the way George and other families did. You were lucky, even though it took you a while to notice, to believe it — to notice that being aware of that fact didn't mean you had to silence your pain; it just made you feel empathy towards other people's pain.

George was one of them.

"You're not surprised" he replied, voice as low as ever, and you could almost picture his frightened look as he wrapped his phone's cable around his fingers, his body close against one of the white walls of his house and his body as far as possible from the outside view. George was anxious, as usual, "You know I always call around this time".

You smiled sweetly, grabbing the notepad inside your apron and quickly scribbling the word George in it, before passing it to Ginny, one of your waitresses, "Sometimes I wish you could surprise me" you joked, "But I'll prepare your usual—".

"No, not today" George cut her off quickly, and the woman frowned — first because the man rarely interrupted her, and second because there wasn't a single time he had refused his standard piece of cake. You were ready to voice your thoughts when he cleared his throat, "I..." you could hear George gulping, and immediately your body tensed. There was something wrong, "I feel like something bad is about to happen".

The cadence of George's voice had lowered, and you could almost picture him squeezing his body against his wall as if he wanted to be swallowed by it.

"What do you mean?" you asked curiously, biting your bottom lip. You had learned ages ago that believing in George's paranoid mind wasn't the best thing to do, but sometimes you just couldn't help your curiosity, "George?".

It took him a while to do anything — to breathe, to speak, to even make a sound that could tell you he was still on the other side of the call. For a moment, it looked like George had simply left without plugging the phone back.

"I don't know" he replied bitterly, his voice now somber, not afraid. George spoke with certainty, pretty much like your grandmother when she said that God had given her a revelation; truth be told, you had never heard him speak like that, like he knew what he was saying, with no sign of stuttering. It made a shiver run down your spine, and you marveled at the possibility of just hanging up on him and pretending this call had never happened; and when your mind sent the command to do as you wanted and your body simply refused to do, you knew exactly where your mind had taken you — ten years ago, your bedroom. The worst day of you life, "But there's something coming".

And even after he hung up on you, when the sound of the phone announcing the call had ended started, you weren't able to take his words off your mind. An advice, a warning — something is coming.

(***)

"YOU BETTER BE READY, BUDDY!" Aaron stated, grabbing his son's Ninja Turtles' backpack in one hand as he moved quickly towards the front door, his voice perfectly calm, even though he dreaded the moment he answered the phone in the last hours of his day off. And while he wanted to curse every deity whose name he could remember (and he knew a lot), Aaron knew that it was only a matter of time before he got ultimately bored and found a stack of work he could bury his nose in, "Your mom's already downstairs".

Jack bursted inside the living room with a toothy smile on his face, his sparkly brown eyes — his father's eyes — focused on Aaron as he pointed at his two undone shoelaces, "I can't tie them, daddy" the little boy pouted, his head tilting to the side in defeat, "Mommy showed me, but I can't!".

Aaron smiled softly at his son, leaving the backpack close to the door as he kneeled in front of the three-year-old, looking straight into his eyes, "I'm gonna do one with you, and then you're gonna do the other, ok?".

The little boy nodded quickly, a few blonde strands of hair falling in his eyes, but he didn't seem to care as he sat quickly in front of Aaron with his knees bent so his small arms could reach the shoelaces, "'Kay".

"'Kay" Aaron repeated, placing his big hands on top of Jack's much smaller ones, "Do you remember what comes first?".

Jack scrunched his nose before shaking his head, his face adorable even when grimacing.

The truth was, Haley was an amazing woman and mother: she was the one who was always there, the one to grant Jack goodnight kisses and to hug him whenever he had a nightmare; Haley was also the reason why Aaron started taking more days off, this being one of her requirements on the divorce — he had to take at least two weekdays off per month to spend time with Jack, otherwise he'd only be allowed his weekend with his son once every two weeks. And while Aaron knew Haley wouldn't privy him from seeing his son whenever he wanted (an agreement they had made when they decided to peacefully co-parent), the last thing he wanted was a courthouse fight over his workaholic habits.

But, as perfect of a mother Haley was, there was one thing in which Aaron had always been best: teaching. As a nerd himself, and as someone that never had a lot of time with Jack, he enjoyed teaching Jack even the smallest things, and it had been like that from moment one; with time, Haley stopped trying to teach Jack new things, and Aaron knew she did so because she noticed he cherished those small, intimate moments with their son.

Was she able to teach Jack things properly? Most of them, yes. Would she? Probably not — she would, instead, send Aaron a message saying Jack would have this problem, and he was the one meant to solve it.

"The first step is the not" Aaron started, holding each lace with Jack and crisscrossing it in a X before tucking one lace through the hole and pulling the laces to tighten. He looked at Jack through his thick eyelashes, the smallest of the smiles on his face when he saw the little boy with his tongue between his lips, one eye closed as he took in what they were doing, "Bunny ear...".

"This one I remember!" Jack exclaimed happily, creating one bunny ear with the lace, allowing his dad to pinch it closed on his fingers, "Then..." he looked up at Aaron in search of approval, "Wrap?".

"Yes, buddy!" Aaron cheered, helping Jack to wrap the lace around the bunny ear, "Now, every bunny has two ears, so..." they pushed the loose lace through the hole under it, creating the second bunny ear, "What now?".

"Whiskers!" Jack yelled, finishing the lace just when someone knocked on the door, "Mommy!".

Aaron's eyes widened slightly, one of his hands going to Jack's arm as he stared disapprovingly at his son, one brow raised; his look wasn't quite like his Unit Chief glare — he'd never direct it to Jack, one rule he had created when he first reprimanded Jack and the little boy flinched at the mere sight of his father's glance. Aaron was aware (thanks to his team's feedback) that he looked cold and unfriendly when showing that look, but no one had flinched at his sight (not even Prentiss, when he wanted her to fear him); the idea that his son feared him was too much for him to bear, so he stopped.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Aaron asked seriously, looking at Jack's untied left shoe, "I'll answer the door, you finish it".

"'Kay, daddy!" the little boy whispered, grabbing the laces in both his hands, "Knot...".

Aaron stood up quickly, grabbing the backpack he had left on the ground at the same time he unlocked the door, opening it up to reveal Haley's image, "Hi" he said sheepishly, something that had happened from the moment they met and that he was fairly sure would happen for the rest of their lives, even if his heart didn't beat as fast as it used to when he thought or saw her, "Jack's tying his shoes".

"Hello" Haley replied politely, way more confident than Aaron, "You had to teach him?" she asked, offering one hand so he could place the backpack there, which he quickly did as he nodded, "Good to know I've done a lame job. You don't know how hard it is to not teach a child how to tie their shoe".

"Sorry to put you in that position," Aaron said honestly, looking at Jack from over his shoulder, the little boy finishing his work with the shoe, "Both of them, having to come and grab him this late and being lame at tying shoes".

"One of them we can fix with a co-parents' dinner. Jack's been asking for it" Haley gave him a pointed look, fidgeting with the backpack's strap. It was hard for both of them to do things like that — go out as a family when they weren't married anymore; still, they promised they would do so for Jack, so it was the least they could do: swallow their pride and pain, and be what their son needed, "The other one... it's your mandatory day off, Aaron".

"I know" he nodded, lowering his voice, "I know, and I didn't want to go... I really didn't" Aaron said more confidently when Haley sighed, too used to hearing those words, "But it's been ten years since I saw Shaunessy, and he said it's urgent... he's dying, I think".

"He could've written a letter, Aaron!" Haley spat back. Knowing his ex-wife, Aaron knew she wasn't trying to be insensitive about the subject nor judging him for choosing his job instead of spending the night with Jack, she was just being her practical self, thinking about what was best for Jack, and what they had accorded, "Why he waited ten years to call? If it was really urgent—".

"Mommy!".

Haley stopped immediately, putting a smile on her face as she kneeled outside Aaron's apartment with arms open — she never went in, the same way Aaron would never come inside their house when going to get Jack. If the boy had noticed that he never commented, but Aaron had the feeling that Jack was happy enough that his parents were talking, something he knew from his friends' experience that didn't happen in a lot of families.

"Hey, love" Haley received Jack in her arms happily, standing up with him in his arms as the little boy wrapped his legs around her middle, "Did you have fun with daddy?".

Jack nodded, taking his head off Haley's shoulder to look at Aaron, "Daddy promised he's gonna bring me a gift from his trip, because I couldn't stay the night!".

"And we're gonna schedule another day, so we can have ice cream and go to bed late" Aaron promised, moving to kiss Jack's forehead, "Daddy only has to make sure his friend is ok, and nothing wrong's gonna happen".

Haley's eyes darted immediately to Aaron as she straightened Jack's position in her arms, "You think there's something wrong?" she asked curiously, biting her bottom lip, "That something's gonna happen?".

Yes, Aaron wanted to reply. He had been trying to act against this gut feeling since he woke up that morning, the terrible sensation that told him his peaceful moment with Jack would be cut short, and he'd have to face a danger he'd never before; and while Aaron Hotchner was as skeptic as someone could be, he couldn't deny that Shaunessy's sudden call could be a warning.

Besides, Aaron was worried. He knew Tom Shaunessy was facing a disease because it had been the gossip of Boston PD for months prior to his retirement, and he had received a memo when the new Detective took his place, but Aaron hadn't talked to him back then, so he could only imagine. The real thing (or as real as it could be over the phone) was way worst than he had imagined — Shaunessy was weak, his voice low, unable to say more than two words without a coughing fit.

Aaron told Haley he thought Shaunessy was dying. The truth was that he was sure. And if whatever he had to tell her was this serious, it was best to find out before it was too late.

Maybe his gut feeling would run off after his visit. He hoped.

"Don't be silly, mom!" Jack replied quickly, "Daddy is a superhero! Nothing wrong's gonna happen!".

Haley gave Aaron an anxious look but quickly removed it from her face as she turned back to Jack, "You're right, buddy" she nodded, "Your dad's gonna do great. We better go, Jess's waiting at the car".

"Auntie Jess!" Jack squealed happily, wiggling on Haley's arms, "Bye, daddy!".

Aaron didn't have time to reply before Jack moved to the end of the corridor, repeatedly pressing the down button, "Bye, buddy", he laughed, shaking his head with a soft smile on his face. When he turned to face Haley, though, her expression was neutral in a way he had never seen on her face before, "What?".

"Aaron" Haley's voice had a tinge of alert and danger, and while Aaron was never a huge fan of his gut feeling, Haley had always been one to believe in hers, "Be careful".

He didn't reply, not verbally. Instead, Aaron nodded slowly, observing with careful attention as Haley and Jack entered the elevator, rubbing his fingers nervously as a bad feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

Something didn't feel right.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner imagine

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hiemalice · 1 year

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I'm being serious what exactly has JK Rowling ever said that was so bad as to warrant such insane backlash. Have you ever actually looked into it for yourself firsthand or are you just following orders

Have you seen her actively supporting transphobes. Have you seen her calling her ONLY chinese character Cho Chang, two last names from different Asian countries smashed together. Have you seen her pushing for transphobic legislation in the UK (and succeeding!) Have you seen her name her only adult black character Kingsley Shacklebolt. Have you seen her create her lycanthropy parallel to AIDS and then demonize werewolves. Have you seen her called her indian wizards Padma and Parvati Patili, which are the most generic names ever. For that matter, have you seen her only Irish character is Seamus Finnegan and has two personality traits: wanting to turn things into alcohol and blowing things up. Have you seen her responding to a post of “are jewish wizards in Hogwarts” with the name of one guy that maybe is mentioned once in the entire series. Have you seen the part where Hermione say “maybe we Shouldn’t keep slaves” and is actively mocked and dismissed for that. Have you seen her goblin bankers which are short, bald, ugly, hook-nosed, and control the entire financial world of Hogwarts, which is hitting every single antisemite stereotype off a bulleted list. Have you seen her worldbuilding create the game Hogwarts Legacy, which is all about suppressing the goblins for daring to want equal rights with wizards, and stealing wizard children for their blood—Literally the blood libel. Have you seen the goblin heads mounted on walls, and them being called uncultured. Have you seen many of their “cultural artifacts” in fact being Jewish artifacts. Have you seen the first thing the player can say to an African character is “I thought their magic was weaker”. Have you seen that African wizards use their hands instead of wands. Have you seen the books where Rowling creates a killer that dresses as a woman. Have you seen the book where Rowling creates a villain with fibromyalgia that attacks the main character for her conservative beliefs.

Because I have.

#anti jk rowling #tw jkr #harry potter

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goggles-mcgee · 11 months

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Out of all of the main, secondary and background character's thoughts and feelings on PFO there is one you haven't mentioned yet.

The most logical of the main cast.

The one who is said to be "The Brightest Witch of Her Age".

The one, the only Hermione Granger.

Oh man Hermione at first tried to reason with Harry, because honestly his idea was so silly it couldn't possibly be true but then Snape's reactions made her pause. Now it could have been he was just thrown off by her best friend's question but the reaction was bigger than she expected. She didn't want to just believe in something, something an adult, her Professor, so adamantly denied but so many things followed after that somehow proved the opposite.

For a long time she didn't do much other than observe and make notes on everything she witnessed because she needed more evidence. She does become convinced that Snape and James Potter were bitter ex's and is so baffled that he would lie that it kind of shakes her perspective of adults and authority figures. She doesn't take what they say at face value and does more research. Honestly this whole thing was actually a blessing for her development. She didn't just have a blind faith in adults and authority figures anymore and that was slowly bleeding its way into her view of books as well.

Because if adults lied for no reason, and as she began to find out for nefarious reasons, then maybe books could be biased too???? This becomes more of a stable idea and thing she believes after 4th year and the whole Rita Skeeter nonsense.

She is a secret fan of all the drama but is the not so secret co-writer of The Potter Family Opera Bulletin. She works with the Patil Twins and once Luna gets involved in everything she joins the writers circle. They end up actually making a student staff for this and to the surprise of the students but not everyone else, they start getting subscriptions outside the castle and even start making money from it.

They all agree that the issue will be free for students and teachers. Hermione, Theo Nott and Padma were the ones to somehow charm the papers from being copied or sent out of the castle once they were in the hands of students or staff as they thought it would be unfair and bad business if the complimentary papers they gave to their fellow students were sent to family members without said family members having to pay for a subscription.

Surprisingly it was Padma who brought up the issue and Theo who pushed for them to do aomething so they didn't lose money as they (the students) used the money to make Hogwarts more homey. Money got donated towards making clubs, buying better brooms, guest speakers, more books for the library! (All things Albus said they didn't have the budget for.)

Because they do such a great job of relaying any PFO news out to people they end up making a Hogwarts Herald. A school paper by the students for the students. It included studying tips, a charm of the day, advertisements for clubs, latest gossip, just any news they think is important or entertaining!

Hermione thrives!

At this point she does believe the original rumor and a good chunk of info that follows but overall even if it wasn't true she would never say anything because this has done the school a world of good and she made a ton of friends!

Plus she finds it amusing when she hears the latest gossip of how many people have crushes on Harry and makes sure to tell him about them before an issue of the HH hits the stands.

And look...at first she thought Cedric and Harry could be cute. Ron was adamant about it....but then she found out Theo maybe had an interest in Harry and maybe she gives him encouragement and advice ut she does so in a way to not make it obvious. She just drops hints on what Harry's favorite treats were, maybe drop he was looking at something in the shops in Hogsmead. And let's just say she's not surprised when Harry gets a secret admirer who sends him all those things.

#hermione granger #theo nott #padma patil #luna lovegood #potter family opera #harry james potter #harry potter #hogwarts is united by gossip! shocking i know #I'm a multishipper what'd you expect?#implied nottpott #implied hedric #look there will probably be more ships to follow

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