#especially w Luna who hadn’t even kissed him up until that point!!!!!!

[takemyopenheart]

I can’t help but feel kind of disappointed by the ending in M’s route when he goes to the detective’s room and the way their scene was written if it’s their first time being intimate. My detective and Mason hadn’t even kissed up until that point, so some acknowledgment of that, by both of them, would’ve been nice. It just seemed like it was written for those who’ve already had intimate scenes with M.

[writesowhatnext]

would’ve preferred a pillow fight // fred weasley

Summary: Ginny knows about the reader’s crush on her brother and she’ll be dammed if she doesn’t stir the pot a little

Request: Request where you're in Gryffindor and having a slumber party with some of the girls. You play truth or dare and are dared to say something embarrassing to Fred who's in the common room with his friends. When you get down there, you struggle to say it and Fred being the ass he is, is just smiling because you're just there flustered, and in your jammies haha

A/N: I loved this request so so much because I treasure Fred but also girls yes please and also bestfriend!Ginny is my favourite she’s one of my fave characters literally the films did her so dirty

Reader: female

Warnings: female reader, making out, swearing

Introducing Ginny Weasley to Truth or Dare might’ve been your greatest mistake to date. In your defence, you thought a muggle game might be fun for Friday night at the girls’ dorms. You, Ginny, Luna (who you’d managed to sneak in with a nifty spell Ginny had learnt from Fred and George), Lavender and Parvati had been meeting up for weeks now, all dressed in your lamest pyjamas as you goaded and teased each other, but you were beginning to get bored after your third round of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. And so, perhaps foolishly, you decided a change of pace would be nice and a muggle game you remembered from your time before Hogwarts would be fun. That, you quickly realised, was an oversight on your part, especially given Ginny knew everything about you, including your massive crush on her older brother Fred, a fact you hadn’t yet lived down.

“Okay,” Ginny hummed, spinning the empty bottle of firewhiskey between her fingers, watching it turn before it slowed to a standstill, pointed directly at Lavender.

“Christ,” she huffed, sighing shortly before shrugging. “Dare, I suppose.”

You faced Ginny, chewing your bottom lip as you watched a mischievous grin stretch her lips. Her eyes met yours and you saw, for a moment, the familiar glint of trouble that you so enjoyed in Fred’s.

“I dare you…” Ginny rubbed her chin, a caricature of contemplation. “To snog Parvati.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back to pick up your half-full cup of firewhiskey in your hand.

“W-What?” Lavender asked, her skin tinting pink as Parvati’s mouth dropped open, her dark eyes glancing from person to person.

“That’s not fair,” Parvati insisted, crossing her arms over her chest, not daring to chance a look at Lavender. “It’s not my dare!”

Ginny raised her hands in a faultless gesture, her shoulder raised as she kissed her teeth.

“She asked for dare…”

You snickered at her innocent expression, your smile widening when she looked at you, her intentions obvious.

“A dare’s a dare,” you shrugged as Lavender, turned to you, all but pleading.

“A dare’s a dare,” Parvati repeated, mocking you with all of the very little venom she could muster. You laughed, throwing your head back before you glanced at a very confused Luna, her eyebrows drawn together and her pale blue eyes wide.

“Fine,” Parvati muttered, her long, thin hands grabbing Lavender’s face, kissing her square on the lips.

You and Ginny burst into a round of applause, clapping as they awkward kiss turned a little more heated. Your cheers and whistles died off very soon, but their snogging did not and suddenly, you were submerged in silence as the two girls made out with each other, not showing any signs of stopping. You sipped your drink, looking at Ginny’s exasperated expression with raised eyebrows from over the top of your goblet. She looked at you and rolled her eyes, shaking her head in mock annoyance.

“They don’t seem to be as reluctant as they were,” Luna mused, leaning back as she pulled at her feet, her legs spread wide either side of her. You scoffed, biting your lip to contain your laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Ginny said loudly, kicking at Lavender with her foot. “I’d say the dare is more than fulfilled.”

Lavender flushed at her words and even Parvati, ever the firecracker, had the good sense to look bashful as she pulled away, tucking her sleek hair behind her ear.

“Right,” Lavender said, earning a chuckle from you and Ginny at her swollen lips and fazed expression. Parvati glared and so you both settled down, pursing your lips in a rare form of submission for the two of you. You looked around as Lavender spun the bottle, catching Luna’s eye and winking as she smiled at you. Her face lit up and you couldn’t help the rush of affection that flooded through you.

“Brilliant,” Ginny cackled, her voice full to the brim with an enthusiasm that made your stomach drop. Turning back to the bottle, your face soured to see it pointing straight at you. As you looked at Ginny, her freckled cheeks lifted high thanks to her massive grin, you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whispered, only making her beam.

“What was that?” she asked, leaning forward against her crossed legs, tilting her ear towards you. “Truth, did you say?”

You kicked her, earning a giggle from Lavender.

“I think she said fuck, actually,” Luna replied, nodding in confirmation. Even you had to laugh at her tone, twisting your mouth to the side as Ginny leant towards you, her face alight with excitement. You really did hate her, sometimes.

“What’ll it be then, Y/N?” Parvati asked, tucking her feet underneath her as she smiled. “Truth?”

“Or dare?” Ginny said with her eyebrows raised and the evil hazel of her eyes ridiculously electric.

You leant back, knowing that you’d have to accept your fate either way. Prolonging your decision, you rubbed your hands over your face and groaned.

“Come on,” Ginny huffed, pushing at your knee with her foot as she grew impatient.

“Fine!” you said, sitting up and throwing your hands up. “Dare.”

Ginny smirked, something you knew would never mean good things.

“Anyone else want to take this one?” she asked, knowing full well their answer as she looked to each of them. Lavender shook her head, a picture of innocence as Parvati smiled.

“I think I’ll leave this one to you,” she said, turning to Luna.

“I’m sure Ginny has a really interesting dare planned,” Luna replied, smiling at you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and pushing at Luna with your hand, knowing she knew full well just how interesting the dare would be.

“Go on,” you sighed, resting your hands on your knees, gently picking at the fabric of your pyjama bottoms. “What is it?”

“I dare you to tell my brother that he’s cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at her before a wonderful idea popped into your head and your face relaxed, only serving to make her suspicious.

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

You wondered for a moment where Ron would be- probably in the common room with Harry if you knew him at all. As you made to walk to the door, Ginny lifted a finger.

“Hold on,” she said, her innocent smile anything but. “You have to tell Fred.”

You could practically feel your face drop at her words and even at his name, the butterflies you felt whenever he was around fluttered around your stomach. “And you can’t tell him why you told him.”

“You know, Ginerva, you’re a right cow sometimes,” you said, hitting your forehead against the door, listening as the girls behind you stood up, ready to follow you.

“I know,” she replied happily, so much so you wanted to pinch her. With a dramatic sigh, you pulled open the door and began your descent into the common room, praying to Merlin that Fred wouldn’t be in there. It was just your luck, you thought, as you peeked around the corner, spotting Fred sitting around the fire with George and his friends as well as Harry and Ron. Your stomach sank at the sight.

“Do I really-“

“Yes!” three voices insisted far too quickly. You scowled.

“I think that’s part of the game, Y/N,” Luna said gently, not at all encouraging as you stepped into the common room, forcing yourself to be brave.

It wasn’t until you got closer to the group that you fully clocked why Ron and a couple of the other boys were giving you such strange looks. You stalled a few feet away, suddenly aware of your messy hair and oversized “Resting Witch Face” t-shirt.

“You alright there, Y/N?” George asked, turning around in his chair. His tone was mocking but you could see the concern in his eyes, not wanting to tease you too much if you were having a meltdown, a mistake he’d made many a time before between you and his sister. Your insides flipped as you looked at the back of Fred’s head, feeling slightly sick as he turned around, facing you with a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t you look lovely,” he snorted, dark eyes full of mirth. You didn’t even have the stomach to roll your eyes as you approached, avoiding looking too long at any of the boys’ faces.

“Fred, can I talk to you?” you asked, hoping you could do the dare away from prying eyes and listening ears. You turned to look by the stairs, glowering at the heads stacked on top of each other, peeking out from around the corner. Your eyes lingered on Ginny, making a face at her smug expression. Fred followed your eye-line, frowning. He hid the smile that tugged at his lips, suddenly clued in as to why you were acting so strangely. The flash of red hair disappearing behind the stairway to the girls’ dorms had been clear enough. He did love a dare.

“Of course,” he said, leaning back with one elbow resting on the arm of the chair and an expectant look on his face. You paused, flicking at the hairband on your wrist when it became obvious that he had no intention to take your hint. It was just like him, you thought, to make your life harder without even knowing it.

“Right,” you said, looking briefly at his amused eyes before redirecting your gaze, the stares of the seven-or-so lads around you feeling very heavy on your skin. “So, I just wanted to say… Well. What I wanted to say is…”

You frowned, swallowing and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yes?” Fred said, leaning forward expectantly with a smile. You questioned for a moment whether he’d been in on the whole thing. “I’m getting the feeling she wants to say something, aren’t you, George?”

You let yourself steal a glance at George as he spoke, nodding and smiling from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. “I do get that impression, Fred.”

“What is it you wanted to say, love?”

You frowned at the sound of the term of endearment in Fred’s voice, your mouth going dry.

“I wanted to tell you… that, um, that I think you’re quite, uh, cute.”

You locked your jaw after the words tumbled out, feeling your face heat up instantly as you looked dead ahead, not daring to take a glance at Fred. You could just imagine his gob-shite expression: he’d be chuffed beyond belief, his eyes bright and a lopsided-grin on his lips. A handsome one, too.

“Cute, eh?” he responded, his surprisingly quiet tone drawing your attention. As you looked down, you found that you were almost right about his expression. The only difference really was that in real life, his eyes held much less mischief and were a much sweeter brown.

“Yes,” you said shortly, frowning, your voice barely audible over George and Ron’s sniggering. You swallowed, finally coming to the conclusion that you’d never hated Ginny more than at that moment.

“Any particular reason why you wanted to tell me that now?” Fred asked, his eyebrows raised and a smug smile dancing on his lips.

“Nope,” you shook your head, pressing your lips together and desperately trying to avoid his eyes. He hummed.

“No reason at all?”

You shook your head again, swallowing even though your mouth felt like the Sahara.

“Well, I should probably be-“ you began, turning to leave only to have your wrist caught by one of Fred’s large hands.

You looked down at him, shocked by his grip and immediately warm at the feeling of his skin against your own. An annoyingly amused smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he beckoned you closer with his hand. Against your better judgement, you leant in, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear the thumping of your heart in your chest. His face, you realised as a lump made its home in your throat, was so close that you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Has it got anything to do with my sister hiding round the corner over there?” he whispered so no one else could hear, raising a teasing brow. Something stirred inside your chest at his expression and the way the words rolled of his tongue and shakily, you inhaled, biting your lip.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you answered, but the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

“Of course, you don’t,” he mused, eyes scanning your face, looking for something you didn’t quite understand. He held you close by your wrist for a second, too long, you thought briefly, surveying your face. He released his grip abruptly and hummed before leaning back into the chair. You stood up straight quickly, breathing a little too heavily from the close proximity, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

With your new-found freedom, you all but sprinted back to the girls’ dorm, almost tripping over the rug as you rushed to somewhere where Fred wasn’t seeping into your every thought.

“Oi!” he yelled when you were almost out of the woods, only centimetres away from Ginny. You turned on your heel to see Fred leant lazily over the back of the armchair with a cheeky grin rivalled only by Ginny’s.

“I think you’re pretty cute too.”

He shot you a wink and you thought, for a fleeting moment before your friends attacked you like vultures for details, that you had it a lot worse for Fred Weasley than you’d previously imagined.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​

@loveisblindness​

@decadentwastelandtrash

@xinyourdreamsx​

@brainlesspasta​

@hariosborn​

@rexorangecouny​

@staringmoony​

@ickle-ronniekins​

@harrysweasleys​

[elspethsunschampion]

Fact or Fiction: Chapter Sixteen

Rated M for abuse, sexual content, and discussion of rape/non-con.  Canon-typical violence.

Summary: It’s Ral Zarek’s sixth year at Hogwarts. And everything would be fine if Jace wasn’t totally occupied with his new girlfriend, to the point where it’s honestly kind of weird, and Ral’s starting to be concerned. Now if only everyone would stop telling Ral he’s just jealous and LISTEN to him…after all, he’s NOT just jealous, right? (Sequel to Send to Sleep.)

Ships: Jace Beleren/Ral Zarek, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Hermione Granger, Nissa Revane/Chandra Nalaar, Elspeth Tirel/Teysa Karlov

A/N: Many, many thanks to @paperclipminimizer for beta-ing and checking my timeline, as well as answering all my questions about Harry Potter. Thanks also to Juri, @dragons-suck, and everyone on Sketchydoodles’ Vorthos server for listening to me rant about this thing as it took shape.

Also available on AO3 and FFnet.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen: Dream Cache

          As he gave the Potions classroom a final once-over, Draco nodded in satisfaction. The sixth-years had all completed their last lesson, and considering that two of them had been in comas for several weeks of term, one had been recently petrified, one tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, and his star pupil had been barely scraping passing marks because he’d been understandably distracted by Amortentia, that was nothing short of miraculous. Not to mention the fact that, for the first time in his life, Draco actually felt hopeful about his personal life.

           Harry was really trying. Draco had reluctantly agreed to start dating him at least partially because he’d been certain Harry would give up the idea after a day or two. When he hadn’t—when he’d kept on insistently asking Draco to come down to Hogsmeade with him, or popping his head into Draco’s office for a quick word or a quick kiss or a quick snog, or just sending him stupid little romantic notes via owl—Draco had gotten used to it faster than he would have believed possible. He’d even managed to reciprocate, himself, on a few occasions, although he wasn’t really good at romantic. But the look on Potter’s—on Harry’s face had been worth it. As had the sex. The sex had definitely been worth it.

           There was a quiet knock on the door. “Come in,” Draco called, as he flicked his wand to dispose of a particularly nasty-looking stain that was determinedly eating through the woodwork of Mr. Zarek’s desk. Ral had never quite lost his habit of experimenting with different combinations of things on the side, although he had at least stopped instantly doing things that his textbooks explicitly warned against.

           The door opened, and Jace poked his head round. “D’you have some time?” he asked. His voice was low, and his gaze directed somewhere in the vicinity of his feet.

           “Yes, I think so.” Draco checked the time. Classes were over for the day, and he was supposed to meet Harry, but not for a few hours. “What is it, Jace?”

           “I—I’ve been trying to get my independent study to work, and I think the theory’s sound, but I’m doing something wrong, and I don’t know what it is.”

           Leaning back against the desk in front, Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were told you didn’t have to finish the project you’d planned for this semester? Taking an extension due to illness is fine.”

           Jace shuffled. “I—I know. And I probably won’t do the write-up until next semester. But, um, I really want to finish this.” He sighed in defeat. “It’s for Ral.”

           “Ah, I see.”

           “Can you at least look at my notes?”

           “Of course. I’ll come up to the tower if you like.”

           “Would you? Th-Thanks.”

           Jace’s workstation, which, in contrast to Ral’s, was usually quite organized, was covered in ingredients, laid out in haphazard bunches. His notebook and an instant camera were near the edge of the table, covered in a fine powder Draco thought was probably silver dust. There was a stack of blurry photos peeking out from underneath the notebook—that had been something that had come out of Hermione’s experiments with Mr. Zarek. The camera was actually a Polaroid of Muggle make, but the batteries had been replaced with a magical power source. Although the resulting photos didn’t move, they developed immediately, and several of the students had started using them to keep track of magical experiments they were performing. One of the complaints that Jace’s year especially kept bringing up—especially Ral and Jace—was that it was stupid to try to recreate a potion from a verbal description when you could take a picture of what it was supposed to look like. Draco had started looking into redoing their textbook with a set of example pictures, but he hadn’t had the time to compile it yet.

           Jace flung himself into the stool in front of the workstation with a sigh. Taking out his wand, he prodded at the Potion growing cold on the side of the desk. It was a dull blue, and there was a single white poppy floating on the surface. “Yeah, this didn’t work.”

           “Tell me what you were trying to do.”

           Gnawing at his thumb, Jace seemed to consider this. “I…I could show you,” he whispered. “I just…I just need to know what the steps are supposed to look like and—and how you usually extract memories for a pensieve. I don’t. Know how to do that myself. And, um, I’m—I’m not feeling good. Mirko went back to the Forbidden Forest today, and I—I—thought I’d be fine. I should be fine. I just.” He shut his eyes. “When it didn’t work and didn’t work and didn’t work—” He cut himself off, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Sorry,” he whispered.

           “Would you like a hug?” Draco asked gently.

           Jace’s shoulders went up and down. “Don’t think it’ll help.”

           “All right.”

           “But—but—if you could take this and do it w-with me…” Jace’s hands hovered at the hasp of his cloak.

           Jace had already spent an hour or two curled quietly in the back of Draco’s head, his body resting on a nearby bench or couch, his mind dormant. He’d also spent some time with Hermione and Ranna, who had been on and off campus every few days since making a full recovery. Draco didn’t know if Jace had also been sharing minds with the sixth years, but he suspected he had been. At the very least, Jace had taken to trotting down the hall to Ral’s bedroom again at all hours of the night, which was—comforting. Right. Draco had passed him several times when he was, well, going to Harry’s room.

           “Do you want me to?” He didn’t think Jace would say no, but he wanted to make sure Jace knew he always had a choice.

           Jace nodded. “Yeah. Please.” He undid the cloak and took it off, folding it carefully over the stool. “Only—can I do something a little different? I—I really want to help make it.”

           “Yes, you can.”

           Raising his wand, Jace pointed it carefully at Draco. “Legilimens.”

           It was hard not to flinch at the feeling of Jace touching his mind. Draco had never been as good at occlumency as Harry, but he’d been good enough, and he’d had more than enough people fucking about in his head for one lifetime. Taking a deep breath, Draco reminded himself that this was Jace, and then carefully walled off the memories that Jace shouldn’t have access to, either due to the possibility of traumatizing him, or due to the level of inappropriateness. Jace was skilled enough that he probably could get through most of Draco’s walls if he tried, but Draco trusted that he wasn’t going to.

           A little more fumbling, and then there was a sudden sense of recollection as Jace pushed a thought into his mind.

           Draco raised his own wand. “Legilimens.”

           It took them a moment to reorient, as they carefully tested the connection to make certain that it could be undone at any time without damaging either one of the constituents. They didn’t want a repeat of the incident with Teysa. Once they were as sure as they could be—yes Jace I’m fine I promise—they focused on the potion. It took them a moment to remember the idea, running Draco’s finger down Jace’s notes, but then, there it was. They sized it up, considering, and decided with relief that the theory was sound.

           Jace’s frustration boiled to the surface along with the images of hours spent trying to get the base potion to mix correctly, and it wasn’t surprising he’d had so much trouble. Correct theory or not, a potion like this would have been more suited to a uni student than a boy still at Hogwarts. But they used Jace’s hands anyway, despite the increased difficulty in translating the muscle memory, just slowing a little to accommodate as they began to chop up a stack of mauve carnation petals.

           The work was difficult, more difficult than most potions Draco made these days, since he was hampered by unfamiliar hands and cluttered thoughts, but it was exhilarating at the same time. There were a number of innovative ideas scrawled in the margins of Jace’s little notebook. The potion itself was a modification of the original Bottled Dreams potion to be able to hold memories like a pensieve—instead of catching a dream while you were having it, this was intended to turn a memory into a dream for someone else.

           This time, when it was heated, the potion exuded a fine silvery vapor that curled above the liquid, caught the white poppy, and lifted it into the air for a few seconds, while the whole thing changed from milky grey to sky blue. They let out a sudden, relieved breath. It had worked, which meant it was ready for the last step. The memory-turned-dream.

           Jace’s hands were trembling, and they took a moment to steady them, because this was the most difficult part. Draco knew how to extract his own memories for a pensieve, but he didn’t know how to braid them together the way Jace did, and they would have to draw on both skills in order for this to work properly. And it would have to be Jace’s hand, Jace’s wand, as Jace braided and Draco extracted.

           There was a heartbeat of indecision, of fragmentation, as Jace tried to curl back in on himself, but a mental word of encouragement—You can do this, Jace, better than anyone—pushed them forward. They lifted the wand to Jace’s temple, and Jace did something Draco didn’t understand even though it was happening right in front of his mind, binding the silver cords of memory together as if they were threads on a spindle—not threads, scenes, like cutting out a bit of one photo and gluing it to another one, like the memories in Ral’s head of playing with the moviemaker on his mum’s laptop, making a character disappear just by snipping three seconds of the scene out of the middle—but he understood how to pull the resulting strand out from Jace’s head, how to pull and pull and pull until it twisted around the wand, and how to push it from the wand into the potion, stirring and stirring with a steady hand. The steam evaporated and the potion darkened.

           Draco shivered as Jace withdrew, and he lowered his wand. There was a strange moment of vertigo as he realized he was alone in his head again, and for a brief second, nothing seemed to work the way he remembered. Then the feeling passed, and the two of them were standing together and looking down at the potion they’d made.

           “Excellent work, Jace.” Draco reached out with a hand, then remembered Jace hadn’t wanted a hug, and paused. The boy didn’t seem to have noticed; he was looking down at the potion was a peculiar look on his face. After a moment, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

           “Fuck,” he said, finally. “I did it. I really did it.”

           “You really did.” Draco chose to ignore the obscenity, thinking wryly that after six years of Mr. Zarek, many of the teachers were becoming what the headmistress considered appallingly lax on the subject of profanity. “You had some exceptional insights, and next semester, I hope you’ll write up a careful description of your thought process and the process of making the potion.”

           “I didn’t think I could,” Jace murmured. “Thank you. This is great.”

           “This was entirely you. Your theory, your hands. I just helped out a bit with the experience.”

           When Jace looked up at him, he was smiling broadly, and Draco was struck with the thought that he didn’t think he’d seen Jace smile like that since last year.

           “I'm going to give it to Ral tonight."

           Draco felt his lips twitch upwards in a smile as he thought about Harry waiting for him. “Good luck.” Judging from the way Ral looked at Jace, Jace shouldn’t need it, but it seemed like the thing to say.