#fem!gryffindor

[fangisms]

summertime at the burrow

A/N: i want to be an honorary weasley please im literally begging. notice me molly weasley

Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finally invites his best friend home over summer holiday. Neither of you expected it to go so well. 3.7k words.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, ungodly amount of shenanigans, friendly bullying/teasing, mud wrestling, kissing, (friendly) violence, pet names (trouble, snookums, sugarplum, sweetheart), cursing, borderline frog abuse

"Good morning, trouble."

You hop into the seat next to him that he’d been saving for you. In fact, he’d been saving it for you since the first time you plopped down beside him after the sorting hat declared your house first year. You laughed when he shook your hand. He thought you had the cutest smile. Then you teased him for his devilish charm and he called you catty, and you’ve been teasing each other ever since.

"Are you packed and ready?” He sounds more worried than that time he nearly shattered his collar bone during a vicious Quidditch scrimmage. “We're leaving bright and early tomorrow. Mum says she's preparing a hearty lunch for our guests." Fred scarfs down the rest of his breakfast and turns to look at you to find you're looking back at him in bewilderment.

"Somebody's excited," you tease, ruffling his fiery locks and glancing over at George with a grin.

"If you think this is bad, you should see him before winter holidays," George huffs.

“I have.”

Fred rolls his eyes at you and you jab him in the side.

"Where are the lot of you off to?" Lee perks up from across the table, setting his plate down and wiggling his way between Alicia and Angelina.

"I finally got my honorary invite to the Weasley burrow this summer," you chirp, wrapping your arm over Fred's shoulders and leaning him into your side.

Lee cocks a brow and smirks at a suddenly and uncharacteristically shy Fred. "Well, it's about time! You've only been dating for—"

You shake your head. "No, not dating, Lee. I swear we've been over this—"

"Oh, we've been over it plenty. I just choose to ignore wicked witches when they lie—!"

You practically leap across the table with your teeth gritted to grab for his robes when you're stopped by the laughing twins holding you back from tearing into him. "Lee Jordan, you take that back right now, or so help me your mother will wonder why your hair's gone purple!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being lied to!"

"Let me at him! I'm trying to defend my honor here!"

"Miss—young lady!”—McGonagall appears behind you, sending you into shock and barreling back onto the bench—“Settle down! You're frightening the first years, and we typically prefer they come back in the fall."

"Apologies, professor, I was simply trying to have a friendly discussion with my classmate," you say, gesturing to Lee who smiles begrudgingly.

"Right, well, from now on, let's have our discussions from across the furniture, not on top of it." She wanders away, and you turn to stick your tongue out at Lee who is doubled-over and cackling at your being caught.

“I hope you know, we’re going to receive the same third-degree from my dear mother,” Fred mumbles in your ear. His heart races when you turn to him, a playful glint in your eye. You blink sweetly and rest your hand on his knee when he tucks his arm around your lower back. “But don’t worry, sugarplum, it’s never too late to try.”

He winks. Your eyes go wide, and you shove at his shoulder with a chuckle disguised by a scoff.

“Scabbers not the only rat in the Weasley family, I see.”

“That is exactly what I’m talking about, there’s no way you two are just friends—”

A slice of ham sticks to Lee’s cheek with a cold, wet slap as you eye him from across the table.

“Don’t listen to him, snookums, he just doesn’t understand our complicated arrangement,” Fred says, nudging your cheek with his nose and holding back laughter.

“Gross,” George mutters, grinning before he’s met with the same lunchmeat backhand his friend so rudely received. “Suppose I could’ve predicted that one.”

…

You wipe the sweat from your brow, slinging your carry-on over your shoulder before bending down to pick up your trunk. You’re trailing behind most of the rest of the group, just a few steps behind the twins while their younger siblings charge ahead through the field with Harry and Hermione. Fred checks in with you every couple of meters, making sure you don’t need any serious medical attention.

Once the twins breach the front door, you take a seat outside on your trunk, fanning yourself with your hand and throwing your head back. Then you hear:

“Fred, you better get out there and help that poor girl with her things!”

“Sorry, mum!”

You chuckle when he appears in the doorway moments later, winded as ever, hair plastered to his forehead, and still grinning wildly as he jogs over.

“What’s a lovely young lady like yourself doing outside all alone on such an unbearably hot afternoon?”

“Sweating like swine.”

“Ravishing,” he teases, shooing you off the suitcase, “head inside, mum’s absolutely itching to meet you.”

So you do. You can see her welcoming her children and their friends alike, and it fills you with the warmth of fresh gingerbread and the nerves of a teenage boy during school dance season.

“My dear!” she coos, arms outstretched even though a thin year of sweat coats every inch of your body, even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for a day, and even though you’re breathing heavy like a dog. She’s got her arms outstretched like you’re family.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Fred, and, goodness, you’re even prettier than he said you’d be!” —She gasps when he walks through the door, hauling your trunk in tow—“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“It’s been five minutes and you two are already sharing secrets about me. Only seven more days, Freddie,” he mumbles, setting the trunk down with a thud.

“Oh, well! It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear, Ginny will show you to your room and lunch will be ready once you’re all settled!”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”

“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”

Your brows knit when she smiles at you so gently before making her way back to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Molly!”

Fred hops up from where he’d been relaxing on an armchair, clapping you on the arm with a reassuring smile.

“Everything processing alright up there?”

You nod.

“Peachy. Now give me a smile, you’re scaring me.”

You squint at him and pinch his arm, simpering when he hisses and swats your dry-gulching fingers away.

“That’ll do!”

“We’re up this way,” Ginny chirps as she rushes by and tugs you by the hand up the stairs.

Fred watches after you, rubbing his arm with a mean look on his face just before his playful resentment fades and his affections settle into the apples of his cheeks. This is going to be a long seven days.

…

Fred had never invited anyone to stay at the burrow. He preferred the company of his close family and whoever his mother deemed Weasley-enough herself. But he’d been saving this invitation. It stewed in the back of his mind for years before he mustered up the courage to offer it to you.

Ridiculous. That’s how it sounded in his head: ridiculous. If he wanted to ask you, he should have done it at the first chance. That’s what Fred would do. But he could never bring himself to get the words out whenever he swore to himself today would be the day. Because you’d just look at him with those damned doe eyes—you’d test his boundaries and make him all gushy inside—and it was like he was suddenly turned to a tongue-tied and pathetic halfwit.

And now here you are. An unofficial part of his family. But nevertheless a part of it. You’d found the annual Weasley strawberry-picking trip to be wonderful despite Fred pulling cheap pranks on you and the fact that it was basically sweltering outside. When you returned, you all spread out in the family room with bowls of the dewy berries in each of your laps. Everyone claimed a seat while you and Fred were forced to share the hardwood floor. You ended up tossing the small fruits into each other’s mouths with your legs laid across his thighs.

At one point, he lands one of the berries down your blouse. Almost immediately, he starts to laugh, clutching his chest while you gawk at him.

“You better start running, trouble.”

He gulps and scampers to his feet before scurrying out the front door. You take off after him, shouting curses into the wind when he rounds a corner.

You follow his footsteps but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“I swear, if I ever get my hands on you—”

He grabs your waist from behind you, dipping down to whisper in your ear. “You can put your hands on me whenever you’d like, sugarplum—”

“Merlin’s Beard, Fred! You scared the shit out of me!”

You jolt away, and he thinks you look genuinely angry this time. But he smiles and your features soften. Then you’re after him again, bounding into the tall grass with an uproar of laughter.

…

You spend the next few days of your vacation trying to beat Ron at chess then deciding it may be better if you and Harry team up to try and beat Ron at chess. You also take Ginny and Hermione shopping while the gaggle of boys trail behind the three of you grumbling and whining about missing their beloved Quidditch game.

You offer to help Molly with every meal, and she only accepts once you convince her your desserts are a crowd favorite back home. She’s proud to say she’s impressed, and she grows even prouder when you admit you adore big families like hers and see at least two kids of your own in your future.

Arthur takes a liking to you after you listen to him rave about the kind of items muggles use day-to-day and how fascinating their modern technology has become in recent years. He’s thrilled to find you actually take interest in his tinkering and collections and whatnot.

But most of all, you spend your time at the burrow with Fred. He steals you away after meals and keeps you up late to teach you his favorite charms. One overcurious evening finds you two perched together on the bathroom floor whispering and giggling while you brush a bold smokey-eye onto his eyelids. Let’s just say dinner that night was nothing short of hilarious: a look that Fred will never live down.

On the fifth morning, you jostle him awake. He whines about the sun not even being up yet while you drag him down the steps and shove your socked feet into an extra pair of rubber boots.

“What’s the bucket for?” he whispers, traipsing down the path along the side of the house when you stop dead in your tracks.

“Shh!” You press your gloved finger to his lips. A chorus of croaks erupts from the marsh beside the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for Fred, in fact that sound had often soothed him to sleep. But there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that tells him you’re on a mission.

“Can’t we do this when the sun is up? It’s cold and I’m tired—”

“The faster we catch ‘em, the faster we can go back to bed,” you whisper as your boot sinks into the edge of the muddy body of water. He sighs and sinks in next to you with his hands on his hips.

“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this. You’re lucky you’re so pretty or you’d never get away with anything.”

You purse your lips and wade a little further out, looking out at the cooly rippling water beneath the sliver of sunrise.

“Yes, I would,” you say, quietly but so matter-of-fact he’s inclined to believe you.

Just then you spring into action, shoveling a small frog into your bucket with a victorious grunt. A few minutes later, he shuffled over to you and lowers his cupped palms into your bucket: three more frogs settle down into the center with a wet plop. You beam up at him, and it’s worth the early morning trouble to see you so happy and have you so close.

“So what do you plan on doing with these poor creatures once we’re done?”

You sit on the bank of the waterbed, sighing and setting the bucket beside you. He watches you from the water while you examine the small blob of darkness in the center of your palm. The bottom of the bucket is lined with croaking frogs, and the sun is well above the horizon, dousing the sky in soft pink and warm rose.

“I’m going to let them go.”

He lets out a sharp breath, hands falling to his sides, leaving streaks of mud down his tee shirt.

“You’re joking.”

You look up at him. You’re not joking.

“No,” he huffs. “You did not drag me out of my nice, warm bed to catch a million slimy frogs in the freezing cold dark just to let them go again.”

“Oh, but I did.” You’re crazy, he thinks. You’re crazy and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less crazy, though it might make him much less sane.

You set the frog down in the grass and leave the bucket tipped over. The small creatures immediately flood out from the splotchy tin opening into the newborn daylight and the crisp morning air. You stand and wipe your hands against each other a few times, scrunching your nose and finally meeting his eyes again.

“What’s wrong, trouble? Cat got your tongue?”

You grin.

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ to you, and it’ll be a rude awakening.”

Fred walks past you like he’s really mad. Like it was an uncrossable line and you treated it like the tape at the end of a marathon. He’s hulking back towards the house when you grab his wrist to get his attention.

“What?”

But you don’t look sad. You don’t look pitiful or hurt. You look like you’re scheming, and it drives him crazy. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to you.

“You think I’m pretty,” you coo, batting your lashes just to get on his nerves. His breath hitches, and he feels warm despite the nipping cold of the morning.

“Unrelated.”

You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest with a pout. He continues leisurely toward the burrow, tossing his gloves to the ground with a huff of hot air.

“Fred?” you call. And you sound worried, so he’s compelled to whip around. But when he does, he’s met with a rude awakening.

It was a misstep. A silly mistake, the wrong footing. Easily avoidable, and yet he didn’t avoid it. So he’s ass-first into a mud puddle with you shrieking in laughter about a meter away.

“You’re awful,” he grumbles, both hands propping him up and seeping into the thick mud as seconds tick by.

“I’m sorry! Freddie, I’m so sorry,” you cackle, taking a few steps toward him with tears of joy in your eyes. “But you should have seen your face!”

“Help me up,” he says, shaking his head and wiping his hand down his pajama pants before holding it outstretched to you. You grab it and tug enough to leverage him out of the muck. But he doesn’t budge. And in that moment, your eyes are filled with fear. Then, with one jolt, you topple down into the mud right beside him.

“Fred!”

“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”

You push yourself up onto your hands to find your entire front is caked in mud, the mess narrowly avoiding your chin and above.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.

You smirk just before a handful of mud is smeared across his chest by your slippery glove.

“Your move, trouble.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, looking down at the abstract art work fondly. But not quite fondly enough to hold himself back. His fingers dig into the puddle determinedly just before patting the top of your head with it like a stray dog. You squint your eyes closed and groan before peeking one eye open and coating his cheek in mud.

You make it to your feet and Fred hurls a ball of mud at your ass but he misses and it lands in the grass in front of you. You bolt around the back of the house, but he hurls a hunk towards your shoulder blade. You yelp and shout at him:

“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”

“I’ll show you a gentleman, sweetheart,” he hollers it just before he catches up to you. You squeal and nearly slip on a slick patch of grass, but before you can leap out of his reach, he grabs your upper arm and presses you against the tree just behind your back.

“That’s not playing fair, Freddie, I’ve got nowhere to run,” you say, breathlessly grasping at the edge of his shirt with a tired smile. He chuckles and plants one palm against the bark beside your head, bringing the other hand to cup the side of your neck.

“You don’t need to run anywhere,” he mumbles, “just stay here.” The dried mud on the pad of his thumb draws a swipe of dirt down your cheek. Your fingers curl around his wrist and your lips part sweetly when he leans in.

“Time to come inside, you two! Breakfast is ready!”

Your eyes go wide when he leans his forehead against the tree with a grumbled curse.

“I suppose I am quite peckish!” you chirp, dragging him along behind you all the way to the front door. You leave your boots and gloves outside and brush some of the dried dirt from your pajamas.

You sit across from him at breakfast and catch him stealing glances at you every so often. With a mouth full of food, you wink at him with a dirt-smeared face and almost make him spit out his juice when you kick him under the table. George teases the two of you about wrestling in the mud while Molly scolds Fred about tracking it into the house.

…

Before long, you’re facing the final night of your stay. You’d been dreading the end since the beginning, and now that it’s here, you’re heartbroken. It’s been nothing but fun and you’ve never felt so wonderfully vulnerable with so many people around.

But the thing you’ll miss most is Fred. He could sense you pulling away the last couple of days. Trying to shield yourself from the impact of reality. No matter how hard he tried to cheer you up, he knew nothing could stop you thinking about how much packing up and leaving would hurt.

With your things splayed out across the floor of your temporary room, you had started packing hours ago but kept finding ways to distract yourself and avoid the idea of leaving altogether.

“Need any help?” Fred knocks on the doorframe, leaned against it and wearing the blue jumper you once told him he looked best in. You smile up at him from the floor.

“No,” you huff, “but some company would be nice.”

He perks up and shuffles around your belongings to plant himself on the edge of the bed. You had made the bed up nicely, tucked the duvet and set the pillows out nicely. He told you you didn’t have to, but you did it anyways.

After a few minutes of folding and refolding the same shirt, you stand from the floor and join him on the bed. He’s leaned back onto his elbows when he nudges your foot with his. You nudge him back but don’t turn to look at him. So he sits up and bumps you with his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, fussing with the edge of your shorts to distract himself, “Being here, I mean. As a part of our family.”

You smile down at his fiddling fingertips and inch closer, looking at him with this half-sad, half-happy look that has him confused and hopeless and head over heels and confused.

“I had a really, really nice time,” you whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed.

“So…”

You chuckle and smile to yourself, “So…?”

You sit up when the floor rattles a little, a thudding coming from the room below you. Then George shouts.

“Get it over with already!”

You both look at each other and giggle. Fred leans back again and you watch him tilt his head back and let out a sigh. His chest rises and falls beneath that damned blue sweater, and you trace your fingertips over his knuckles. He lifts his head and smiles cheekily at you, like he knows what’s going on inside your head. Like he has any idea. And for once, you think he might be pretty close.

You practically tackle him to the bed, smiling against his mouth when he cradles your face in one hand and rests the other on your waist where your shirt had ridden up from the ruckus.

You pepper soft kisses over his blushing face, leaving faintly glossy lip prints on his cheeks and nose and forehead and a stray one on the column of his neck. He goes slack against the bed, satisfied and content and happy all because of you. But still, he lazily opens his eyes and grins mischievously and says:

“Took you long enough.”

You smack your hand against his chest just hard enough to warn him.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”

He cups your hand against his warm chest and his smile ebbs from mischief to something not as easily recognized. Something that makes him shy and pink thanks to the girl who likes the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the summer and his hands even when they’re covered in mud. Love that makes him much less sane for the girl who might just be crazy for loving him back.

And all of it makes him hold your hand and lean up to kiss you one more time.

masterlist

[etclouie]

Hey! Could you do a poly!marauders where the reader still sleeps with their lovey stuffed animal from when they were a baby and they tried to hide it from the boys. But then how they react when they find out about it :)))

nothing to hide

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: you still sleep with a stuffed animal and try hiding it from your boyfriends, but when they find out they don’t see a problem with it (poly!marauders x !fem reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: slight innuendo, james is touchy, readers house isn’t mentioned, james calls reader princess (once), deer stuffed animal picture is only for idea, lmk if i missed any!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 1.2k

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: i love poly!marauders

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 marauders masterlist | main masterlist

you’d had your stuffed animal since you were little, to say you’d grown attached to it was an understatement. so when you started your relationship with the boys, you felt almost embarrassed to have them know of it. 

sure, it was silly, but there was some tiny irrational fear that they’d either make fun of you for it or end the relationship. you didn’t exactly know why you felt this way, but you really didn’t want to lose your boys. 

James had a quidditch game this day in particular, watching from the stands with Remus and Sirius. your head on Sirius’ left shoulder, while he subtly held hands with Remus on his other side. 

the three of you eagerly watched James play, cheering him on and meeting him outside the changing room after Gryffindor won. wrapping your arms around James’ neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek, only for him to tilt his head to capture your lips with his. his hands grabbing at your hips as he tried to deepen the kiss, pulling away from him and pushing his face away, mumbling out softly while untangling yourself from his arms. 

“Jamie, stop it, not here”

the way you turned as you said ‘not here’ had his attention peaking, turning back towards Remus and Sirius while they both also congratulated James on the gryffindor win. 

the rest of the team were heading out to the three broomsticks, readying yourself to ask if the boys wanted to go to before James was interrupting you. 

“want to celebrate my win another way, that okay princess? the boys ‘ave already agreed”

his front pressed against your back and his arms around your shoulders while Remus and Sirius stood on either side of you, taking both of your hands. Remus had his thumb soothing across your knuckles, and the cool feel of Sirius’ rings had a chill running down your spine. nodding in response to James’ question, only for him to tilt your head back to him, his voice gruffer than expected, lust laced through his normal smooth tone. 

“words sweetheart”

eyes flicking between the three of them before untangling from their holds, turning to face James properly. one of his hands cradling your face, and thumb soothing across your cheek, your response coming out whispered. 

“yes, we can do that. my dorm?”

the ask of going back to your dorm was fine, normal even. you always went to your dorm when the four of you wanted to have fun, your friends never in anyways, so you always had the space to yourself. 

on this occasion, however, you forgot that you left your stuffed animal atop of your bed. not really expecting to go back to your dorm with the boys, so the toy sat proudly on your bed. 

eagerly leading the boys back to yours, pushing the door open as they trailed behind you. stopping in your tracks as your eyes locked on it, and Sirius walking straight into your back, hands instinctively landing on your hips as he questioned the sudden stop. 

“sorry, uhm forgot to put something away when i left earlier”

you had mumbled out quickly, untangling yourself from his hold and moving quickly to your bed to hide the stuffed animal. however, being stopped by James as he grabbed it from your hands. 

a smirk plastered across his face as he settled on your bed, holding the toy in his right hand. crossing your arms over your chest as you watched the scene in front of you unfold, both Remus and Sirius moving to sit on the bed next to James.  

Remus closer to you and reaching for your hands, pulling you to stand between his legs. hands grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself, while his bigger ones soothed across your sides. 

“ignore James, he’s being a dick. talk to me and Sirius love, we’ll listen properly”

his voice soft as he reassured you, nodding his head back towards Sirius and following the movement, meeting Sirius’ reassuring gaze while he took your stuffed animal from James. 

Remus was always the softest of the three boys, sure he had his moments, lust blown over and consuming him but he was always your main go to when you wanted to cry and cuddle into him. Sirius was your middle ground, he was exactly fifty-fifty with you, letting you curl up in his lap and babble out about your feelings but he also held that sexual edge you craved. whereas James wasn’t one for emotions, he’d kiss away your tears sure, tell you it would all be okay and pull you into him to ease away the pain; but his mind always managed to scatter elsewhere, not that you truly minded of course, he managed to know his place there. 

“James here, can’t seem to understand the importance of keeping a stuffed animal” 

Sirius started, nudging James with his elbow while holding the toy to his chest. smiling softly at the sight while moving closer to Remus, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. 

fingers brushing through Remus’ hair, thinking through all the words in your mind and trying to form a coherent sentence. 

“i wanted to hide my stuffed animal because i didn’t know how yous would react, was worried you’d judge me and leave me because of it”

the words came out rushed, a matching frown etching onto all three of their faces mixed with a look of confusion. Remus’ hands continued across your sides, before a sigh was pushing past your lips only to be shushed softly by Sirius as he moved to sit next to Remus. 

“why would we judge you, or leave you because of it?” 

Sirius asked softly, lifting his right hand to soothe across your forearm while he continued to hold your stuffed animal in the other. 

glancing back at James as Sirius’ words washed over you, smiling softly as James moved closer to sit next to Remus. 

with their newfound softness, your earlier worries felt silly. you knew deep down your boys wouldn’t care for some stuffed animal, hell you knew Remus still had his childhood one. James’ voice, now soft and lacking any teasing, brought you out of your thoughts. 

“baby, we’d never judge you for it. nothing will take us away from you, promise”

glancing to your left and seeing James’ pinky finger held up, chuckling softly at the sight before your eyes landing on the other two boys holding up their pinkies. interlocking your left pinky with James, and then your right with Remus first and then Sirius. 

the sight of all three of your boys promising that nothing would take them away from you had your heart warming, feeling so loved and cherished when with them. 

“i’m sorry for thinking yous would leave me because of it, just got in my head and assumed but i know you’d never leave me”

humming as Remus pulled you down into a hug, and then both James and Sirius hugged you from either side. a chuckle pushing past James’ lips as he took back your stuffed animal from Sirius, feeling him pull back as he spoke. 

“just means we’ve got cuddle competition now, huh?”

requests are open here !

[moonstruckme]

Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though

James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside. 

You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain. 

You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door. 

As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”

“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.” 

They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it. 

Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it. 

Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly. 

“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.” 

Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.” 

“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles. 

“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.” 

Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.

James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.” 

“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”

Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”

James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.” 

“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.

“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”

You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.” 

You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you. 

James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.” 

Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.” 

James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”

James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.” 

Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.” 

You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.” 

“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.” 

“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace. 

You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.” 

“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon. 

He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”

James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what. 

You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” 

James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”

[filmsmakkari]

your highness

fred weasley x slytherin!reader

Summary: When Slytherin beats Gryffindor in the final quidditch match of the season, Fred Weasley decides to give the Slytherin princess a little reward

CW: NSFW, semi public sex(?), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praising.

Author's Note- As usual, I had a black reader in mind, so (Y/N) is described as having braids, but that's the only physical description. Anyone can imagine themselves in this fic. Also emmm I have never written smut in my life saurrr... I hope this makes you horny and I'm sorry if it doesn't!

To say that (Y/N) (L/N) hated Fred Weasley would be an understatement.

The Princess of Slytherin was in the prefect’s restroom, trying to wash the red and gold dye out of her hair. The last quidditch game of the autumn term was the next day, and Fred fucking Weasley thought it would be funny to make a mockery of the Slytherin team captain by having Peeves throw ink at her as she tried to run down the moving staircases. 

“That bloody…” she muttered as she roughly scrubbed her scalp. She’d been at it for what felt like hours when the dye finally washed away, and the raven-winged color of her long braids was finally visible again. 

Enraged, (Y/N) stomped out of the bathroom, envisioning ways to get her revenge. In her anger and fantasies of all the means of torture she could inflict upon the irritating prankster, she was barely aware of her feet carrying her down to the ever-calming bioluminescence of the  Slytherin common room. She waved her wand violently, blowing around a stack of papers and knocking over a desk, catching the attention of Blaise Zabini. 

The boy seemed slightly frightened as he said, “Hey (Y/N/N), you alright?”

(Y/N) huffed with irritation. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m ready to knock Weasley off his bloody broom.”

-

The Great Hall was alive with conversation. Some students excitedly cast charms, creating fireworks with their house colors and animals, while others feasted on fruits and vegetables in preparation for the big match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games were always the most anticipated. The extreme disdain between the two teams brought out the absolute best in them as players. Even if it was occasionally violent, it made for a great game. 

Fred and George Weasley sauntered into the hall with the typical swagger of Gryffindors, scanning the tables and admiring the displays from the students. As Fred eyed the Slytherin table, his gaze fell upon her. There in her quidditch sweater, brown knee-high boots, and a horribly tempting skirt, the Slytherin Princess, who’d earned her title by getting the best grades in her house, being captain of the quidditch team, and being so ridiculously beautiful that even the proudest Gryffindors tried their luck with her, was sitting on the table, locked in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Emma Vanity- the Slytherin chasers.

“Discussing a new and improved strategy for the pitch?” Fred asked, approaching her. “I might as well tell you now, you’re wasting your time.”

(Y/N) turned to him with an eye roll.  “Keep taunting me, Weasel. It’s the most satisfaction you’ll get today.”

“Keep dreaming. Tell me, how’d you like my little gift yesterday?” Fred asked, resting his hands on the table and leaning close to her face.

(Y/N) hummed. “To be honest I’d expected more from you, beater. You couldn’t even do the job yourself. That scared of little old me?” 

“You wish. You’ll see out there today. Tell you what. If you win, which you won’t, I’ll reward you,” Fred smirked.

“Please, what could you possibly have that I want?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad you’ll never find out.” Fred winked and walked over to the Gryffindor table, filling (Y/N) with so much irritation that it made her face hot.

-

Fred Weasley was eating his words.

The match was over before it began, the Slytherin players flying like bullets, (Y/N) ’s strategy working to absolute perfection, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to catch the snitch without hesitation, winning the last game of the season.

The after-party was a blur of green and silver, fireworks, and cheering. One second (Y/N) was being hoisted up in the air by her teammates while they chanted her name; the next, she was playing games with giggle juice and fire whisky with her classmates. The snake lair was on fire with passion and excitement. While (Y/N) was reveling in it all, she had another celebration in mind. While her friends chanted so loud that the paintings were all forced to cover their ears, (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the common room and skipped happily up the stairs with a clear destination in mind.

As the sleeping form of the fat lady came into view, (Y/N) suddenly realized she had no actual plan. She couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, and even if she could, what would she do? Find Weasley in his dorm room and slap him? Cast a spell turning all the furniture silver and green to boast Slytherin pride? Steal Fred’s clothes while he was in the shower and- oh. Somewhat embarrassed at how eager she’d been to go to the Gryffindor common room and at how her thoughts kept wandering back to Fred, (Y/N) quickly turned around and began to go back to her dorm but was quickly stopped in her tracks.

Standing before her was the very person who’d been nagging at her thoughts all night. There was Fred Weasley, with dripping wet red hair and no shirt, looking down on her with irritation and amusement.

“Well well,” he said tauntingly, stepping closer and closer to her until her back was pressed against the wall. “Just what is the snake princess doing so close to the lion’s den? Came here to gloat?” Heat was radiating off of him. He was angry about the match.

(Y/N) swallowed, suddenly nervous, her usual Slytherin pride and confidence nowhere to be found. “As a matter of fact, Weaselbee, I’m here to see you. I told you I’d win, I’m here to claim my reward.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at this. He walked over to the fat lady, knocking on the portrait softly. The fat lady awoke with a jump, giving Fred a frustrated glare.  “Sorry about this,” said Fred. “Iced Mice.” The fat lady hesitated. “And just what are you doing bringing her in here?”

(Y/N)’ s bite finally returned as she spoke, “I can show you better than I can tell you. How about a charm for taking the tongues of bad singers?” Fred chuckled at that.

“Why, I never!” said the fat lady as she finally swung open the door.

Fred took hold of (Y/N) ’s hand as he walked in, dragging her behind him.

(Y/N)’ s words were full of venom as she whisper-shouted, “Just what do you think you’re doing, you slimy-”

“Just be quiet for once, princess.”

Indignation swelled in (Y/N) ’s chest, but she obeyed. Though she toothlessly fought back, attempting every now and then to snatch her arm away from him, deep down, she wanted to see where this would go.

Fred dragged her to a dark corner, taking her by her hips and lifting her onto a desk. 

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) asked with a furious look, but there was no bite behind the glare. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d hear it. 

“You came for your reward, didn’t you? You were so desperate for it that you were willing to cheat during the match,” he said, moving her hair and leaning into her ear.

(Y/N) shuddered at the closeness before pushing him away. “I didn’t cheat, Weasley, the hell are you talking about?”

Fred hummed, smoking at her and placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in.

(Y/N) scoffed. “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe I wasted my time coming here. Have a nice life carrot top.”

(Y/N) pushed him again, hopping off the desk and starting to walk away from him, but Fred quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into him and placing a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. (Y/N)’ s eyes widened in shock as Fred Weasley, the person she hated most since first year, slipped his tongue into her mouth and lifted her back onto the desk. Shocked and confused, she pushed him away a third time.

Fred looked deeply into her eyes, a tendril of red hair hanging over his eyes, making him impossibly more attractive. “Oh c’mon, love, don’t act like you don’t want it too. Like you haven’t wanted it since fourth year when you walked in on me showering after the quidditch cup.”

(Y/N)’s face got hot at the memory. “I hate you. You hate me. I’m the “princess of Slytherin,” remember?”

“Well then, your highness, allow me to serve you,” said Fred, dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking as Fred ran his hands up and down her thighs, barely past her skirt. The tight little green dress and those white knee-high socks she was wearing had been driving him crazy since he first saw them, and he wanted nothing more than to see what was hidden underneath them.

“I’m rewarding you, even if you did cheat like a naughty little serpent, somehow I feel like this will be just as much as a reward for me.” He spread her legs wide, getting in between them and slowly peeling back her skirt.

(Y/N) breathed in sharply. “You have tormented me for six years, and now you expect me to let you use me to get off?’ 

“‘M sorry,” said Fred, kissing her thigh softly. (Y/N) shuddered. Fred kissed his way up to her sopping wet heat, muttering “I’m sorries” between every kiss. He finally made his way to her lacy undergarment, placing a soft kiss there. “You’re so wet, darling,” he said, popping his head out and looking at her, “It seems like you’ve already forgiven me.”

“In your bloody dreams, Weasley,” (Y/N) said with an unconvincing scoff. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.”

Fred hummed before quickly dipping his head back between her thighs, sliding her panties to the side, and licking a long stripe through her slick.

(Y/N) let out a throaty moan at the sensation, gripping the desk tightly. 

Fred chuckled against her, the vibrations making her breathe in deeply. “What was that about you hating me, love?” he asked.

“Shut up and get on with my reward, asshole.”

Fred smirked. “As you wish, your grace.”

Fred grabbed her thighs tightly and went to work, taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it like a starving man. (Y/N) moaned loudly before placing her hand over her mouth. Fred looked up at her, his sudden pause making her whimper. “No, no, no, darling. Don’t hide the noises.” He slowly pushed a single long finger inside her. “Let the whole school know.” Another finger. He looked into her eyes with a wicked smile. “Let them all hear how the snake princess let a lion make her scream.” He added two fingers that time and rapidly pumped in and out. And, just as he said she would, (Y/N) screamed. She went to cover her mouth again, but with his free hand, he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her. It burned, but it felt so good. (Y/N) began to move her hips slightly to increase the sensation, making Fred smile. “That’s it, beautiful, good girl. Good girl.” Fred spoke in a way that was almost patronizing. If she weren’t so close to the edge, she probably would have made some snarky remark, but (Y/N) couldn’t think straight as the pressure in her stomach was building up, and the Weasley boy was making her see stars. She let out another loud moan, throwing her head back as the pressure became unbearable. 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” (Y/N) screamed as Fred’s fingers slammed into her g-spot, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore. (Y/N) let out a scream as she came, barely aware of anything around her. Her vision went blurry as the hot juices spilled out of her. Fred wasted no time re-attaching his mouth to her drenched cunt, licking up her juices until she was clean. “Mmm, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Surprising for such a nasty girl,” Fred said, slapping her thigh, sliding her panties back over, and standing up.

He placed his arms on either side of her, staring at her intensely, his hair disheveled and her cum around his mouth. (Y/N) matched his gaze with equal intensity, her heart pounding, a million questions running through her head. After a few beats of silence, she finally spoke. 

“I still hate you.”

Fred actually laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Beat me again, princess, and I’ll give you a better reward then my fingers and my  mouth,” he rasped into her ear before walking off to his dorm room, leaving her with her legs spread on a table of the Gryffindor common room.

“We’ll see how much you hate me then!”

[writing-wh0re]

“Read it to me, darling.”

♥ pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

♥ summary: Based on this ask “you're reading a book and its so good, you dont notice george back from pratice. So he wants to test how much you love the book. ”

♥ warnings: smut 18+, oral, male performing oral, smut book (?), fingering, pussy eating, smut with little to zero plot.

♥ wc: 1090

♥ masterlist & taglist

You were surprised how quickly you were getting through this book. Determined and excited to start the third instalment in the series. 

George had been out for hours, you had noticed the rain softly washing against the window, wondering when he would pop back in to see you again. Although it wouldn’t surprise you if he kept practising in the rain. 

You eyes skim over the words, a small smile on your face as Archer and Astrid, the two main characters finally shared their first kiss. You continue to read ahead, pulling the strawberry lollipop from your lips as you turn the page, excitement filling your body. You place the sweet back in your mouth, sinking down into the bed a little bit more, knowing your coming up to the juicy part of the novel. Small butterflies fill your stomach as Archer and Astrid pine over each other, both taking their relationship to the next level, solidifying their love. 

“Love?”

“Sweetheart?”

Your book falls into your lap, your face a slight tint of pink, eyes adjusting to the man in front of you. Slightly wet with rain and sweat, his shirt off and on the end of the bed. Your eyes rake over his body, your mind wandering back to your book as you rub your thighs together, which doesn’t go as unnoticed as you thought. 

“Sorry.” You shake your head, pulling the blanket up your body, feeling a slight shame for being caught with smut. 

George smirks, taking the lollipop from between your lips, slightly glossy with sticky strawberry residue and spit. He places the sweet in his mouth, his hand under your chin. Tilting your face to look up at him. 

“Love, don't tell me I’m losing you to your book boyfriend.” 

You pout slightly, before you can speak the lollipop is back against your lips. You frown, swirling your tongue around the sweet, watching George’s eyes lock onto your actions as the bed dips under his weight, him resting on his knees in front of you. 

“Please keep reading.” He insists, a swift wink sent your way. Moving the blanket off your legs. 

A gasp falls past your lips, your fingers gripping the stem of the lollipop to ensure its safety. 

“George, I don’t-”

He places his hand around your throat, his face inches from yours, the sweet smell of strawberry wafting between you. 

“Shh, darling, I simply can’t take you away from this book, I’ll occupy myself.” 

George grabs the book from your lap, his eyes quickly skimming the words, a small smirk on his lips. He tuts, shaking his head before, his fingers tracing down the top of your thighs, slipping between your legs, tracing the outside of your panties. 

“Ah, no wonder your panties are wet.” 

Blush creeps across your face, your eyes slightly wide as the embarrassment of him reading the smut washes over you. You bury your head in the book, wishing it would swallow you and help you escape this shame. 

George chuckles, laying down on his stomach, his lips kissing up your thighs, biting the soft skin with every second kiss. 

“I want to know who you prefer by the end.”

His fingers hook inside your panties, pulling them down your legs. 

“Me or your fictional man.” 

You roll your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Don’t be like that.” You mumble, his warm breath fanning against your folds. 

“If you stop, I stop.” His tongue softly licks up and down your slit, an eruption of butterflies soars through your stomach. 

“George.” You whisper moan, heat filling your body. 

“Don’t stop love, I'm enjoying this.” 

You sigh, picking the book up and resuming where you left off. George kisses your folds, his tongue slipping back between them, circling your clit while you re-read the same sentence. 

Fuck, this is harder than it seems. 

“Yes.” You moan, your grip on the book tightening, your hips rocking slightly. 

“Read it to me, darling.” 

“Uh.” The sound falls from your lips as his wraps around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. Your eyes lock with his as he softly drags his tongue up your slit. 

“Enlighten me, I won’t ask again.” 

You nod, quickly picking the book back up and finding where you left off while George continues to play with your pussy. You clear your throat before reading aloud to him. 

“Archer gripped Astrid's hair, his hand pulling the strands around his palm. He liked the contrast between her red locks and his skin. He continued to thrust into her with heated passion- Fuck George uh.”

George chuckles against your clit, his fingers now slowly pulling in and out of you. 

“Astrid moaned something that caused Archer to slow his thrusts, wanting to hear- fuck just like that - wanting to hear more of what she could offer him. He knew if he kept it at this pace she would beg, a situation Archer only dreamt of. Astrid rocked her hips back, Archer's grip tightening on the strands of hair, pulling her back against his chest, his hands falling from her fiery red locks and groping - George Oh- her bo- Yes, Yes, uhh - her boobs.” 

Your head tilts back, George's pace picking up both his fingers and his tongue. The book falls on your chest, your finger tangling in his hair, chasing your hair. You rock your hips against his lips, his hands slipping under you and squeezing your ass, helping to support your slightly elevated angle. 

“I’m close.” 

George simply responds by humming against your clit, his fingers curling inside of you. Your back arches off the bed, your book falling off your chest and onto the floor with a small thud. 

“C-cumming” You moan, your vision blurry as you squeeze your eyes shut.Your teeth biting against the strawberry lollipop as it shatters in your mouth. George slows his actions, small aftershocks shooting through your body, your legs twitching. You release a deep sigh as George pulls his fingers out of your pussy, his lips glistening with a mix of your wetness and cum. 

He reaches for the lollipop stick between your teeth. You simply open your mouth showing him the shattered remnants as he smirks, leaning forward and capturing your tongue in his mouth. Intertwining his with yours and savouring the strawberry flavour before pulling away with a lick of his lips. 

“You should read to me more often.” 

You simply blush, hiding your face in your hands and pulling the blanket back up over your legs. 

Taglist: @horrorxweasley @maybesandohnos @skarlettmikaelson @mathletemadison @wahooyahoo17 @zagreusdaughter @alina02 @addymartinsstuff @rebeldotty88 @peterpan-neverfails @thehumanistsdiary @anonreaderas @i-love-scott-mccall @sunshinemunchkin @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @veryspookybatbabe @uwiuwi @anythingandeverything97 @fckve @darling2800

[vaeblurbs]

JUST A BET.

pairings: theodore nott x fem!gryffindor!reader.

warnings: not proof read and written a while ago so probably some cringe content.

in which you find out the truth about your relationship.

when theodore nott, the hottest slytherin and playboy at hogwarts, first asked you out, both you and your friends were shocked and thought it was simply a joke.

however, when he continued to ask you out until you finally caved and agreed, you started to think he was being genuine about his feelings.

you, surprisingly, enjoyed your first date with him. one date became multiple dates, then multiple dates became a relationship that everyone talked about.

constant teasing from other students never got in the way of your relationship with the boy, as he always shut your doubts down immediately.

even though he tried his best, your doubts still crept into your mind once and a while.

you entered the greenhouse and stood next to your best friend, hermione.

“hello.” she turned to you with a huge smile on her face.

“hey.” you glanced down at the plant in her hands, “pretty plant.”

she rolled her eyes, “y/n, you should know what plant this is.”

hermione continued talking at you, but a certain conversation happening behind you caught your attention.

“yeah, you should ask him out, definitely. he’d probably say yes. you know his girlfriend? yeah, well, draco and i were hanging out and everyone was drunk and he told me something super weird.” you’d recognize that voice anytime. pansy, a girl that’s part of theo’s slytherin group. “don’t tell anyone, theo would kill us all, but like, draco told me mattheo and lorenzo paid theo to ask her out and he’s still going along with it, i guess. i feel bad for her, though, she’s actually nice.” pansy continued gossiping.

you felt your heart sink. you’ve grown used to hearing cruel rumours about you and theodore, but this was coming from pansy, who’s never told a lie, even though she gossiped often.

“y/n?” hermione snapped you back to reality.

“i’m not feeling too proper, i think i had too many pastries at breakfast.” you forced a laugh, “cover for me, please, i’m going up to the dorm.”

before hermione could protest, you grabbed your bag and headed back towards the castle, leaving your fellow classmates confused.

you could feel your eyes watering and focused on making it to your bed without anyone seeing your current state.

however, your plans failed when you heard a voice call after you.

“y/n!” theodore yelled from down the corridor. the sound of his voice only motivated you to walk faster. “wait!”

you inhaled sharply and bit down your lip to hold back any tears.

“what’s wrong? why aren’t you in class?” he managed to catch up you. theodore grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him. “are you alright? i was on my way to the bathroom and noticed you. you’re supposed to be in the greenhouse, aren’t you?”

you contemplated all the cruel things you could say to him, yet nothing came out, except a shaky exhale.

“hello? earth to y/n?” he laughed, flashing you his usual smile that you used to melt over.

“i have to ask you something.” you mumbled.

“what?”

you looked up at him with a straight face, “are you only going out with me because your friends paid you?” you were blunt and asked him the big question immediately.

“what?” the look in his eyes gave everything away. it wasn’t shame or guilt, it was realization and shock, only because he got caught.

“you’re a fucking dickhead.” you scoffed. you couldn’t listen to him plead, but you also couldn’t stand there and beg for answers and an explanation. you wriggled you wrist out of his grasp and started walking away.

“it’s not like that, okay?” he stopped you again, standing in front of you this time.

“get out of my way.” you sighed.

“you’re really giving up? you’re not even going to hear me out? for merlin’s sake, you’re being ridiculous. who even told you? was it lorenzo?” he spat out his friend’s name with venom.

“it doesn’t matter who fucking told me! i can’t believe you’re calling me ridiculous right now! i’m not giving up, i’m having some self respect, something you clearly don’t have considering you were willing to go out with someone for some money.”

he clenched his jaw in anger. “look, it started off as a stupid bet. nobody thought you’d agree, we thought you’d never go out with anyone, you seemed closed off, i said otherwise and i was right because you’re genuinely the kindest person i’ve met. it became serious after the first date and it wasn’t a bet anymore! i promise.”

“it doesn’t matter if it isn’t a bet now, it was one originally! that’s a vile thing to do to someone!” you yelled.

“i know, i know, and i am so sorry.” he huffed, “just, please, i really like you.”

“i liked you too.” you paused and his expression dropped.

“liked?”

“this isn’t going to work, i refuse to be a pawn in the weird games you and your friends entertain. i am a real fucking person, theo, not some dating experiment.”

before he could say more, you finally walked away from him and towards the moving stairs.

[sunburnhurts]

Odd Behavior || Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

Summary: Cedric Diggory is usually good with flirting with girls, but when it comes to Y/n, he's not very confident like usual. Cedric and Y/n are at the same party, but he's too nervous to do anything about approaching Y/n.

Words: 966

All My Stories

Cedric stands in the Hufflepuff Common room, surrounded by his friends. His friends are all laughing at something, but Cedric wasn't listening to anything his friends were saying. His focus was on a friend group that was standing across the room. The friend group included Y/n and her other friends. Y/n wasn't a Hufflepuff, but was still invited to the Hufflepuff party. The party was something random some people pulled together, it was supposed to be only Hufflepuffs, but people invited their friends from other houses.

One of Cedric's friends notice Cedric wasn't paying attention, so he nudged Cedric's arm to get his attention. Cedric turned his head to his friend, but kept his eyes on the girl he was staring at. "Hm?" Cedric hummed.

"Yo, what are you looking at?" His friend asked, trying to follow his gaze.

"Oh- nothing." Cedric says, looking away from Y/n and putting his eyes on his friend.

"No, not nothing, is it that group of girls back there?" His friend asks, trying to spot what girl Cedric was looking at.

"Uh, yeah." Cedric says as he looks back at Y/n. He sees Y/n's friend group burst out in laughter, he sees Y/n's beautiful smile. The corner of his lip slightly lift up seeing her happy.

"Is it that Gryffindor girl? Shoot whats her name.." Cedric's friend says, trying to remember her name.

"Y/n." Cedric responds.

"Ah, right, Y/n. Go talk to her, man."

Cedric looks at his friend with a confused look. He shakes his head at his friend and says, "No way."

"Why not? You've talked to girls before!" Cedric's friend says, trying to be loud enough over the loud Common Room.

"Yeah but-" Cedric pauses and looks over to Y/n. "not like Y/n."

"What are you saying, man? Go talk to her! It wouldn't hurt!" Cedric's friend says, looking over to the group of girls. "I didn't think I would live to see the day Cedric Diggory is scared to talk to a girl!" His friend laughs.

"I'm not scared! I'm just, I don't know." Cedric replies, looking over to his friend.

"What is so different about her and all the other girls you've talked to?"

"She like, intimidating but in a good way, you know?" Cedric embarrassingly admits.

"Man, how long have you been scared to talk to this girl?"

"Since like, 3rd year?"

"Cedric! You need to talk to her!" Cedric's friend says as the 2 boys look back over to Y/n's friend group. One of Y/n's friends look over to the 2 boys, seeing they are looking at Y/n, so she nudges her.

She whispers in Y/n's ear something, making Y/n turn her attention to the two boys staring. Cedric's friend looks back at Cedric as Cedric continues to look at the girl. Y/n furrows her eyebrows at Cedric, tilting her head slightly in confusion with a slight smirk. Cedric's face turns slightly red, he didn't know what to do. He smiles at the girl and raises his eyebrows at her.

Y/n smiles at the boy, then turns her attention back to her friends. Cedric's friend slaps Cedric's arm, making Cedric look back over at him. "Now you have to talk to her, man."

Cedric couldn't build up the courage to talk to her, he wasn't sure why. His friend was right, he usually was good with talking to girls. It's like all his experience of talking to girls has been thrown out the window and it's a fresh start now. It's true, he had his eye on Y/n since 3rd year, they've had classes together, but they've never interacted before.

"I feel like I just blew my shot." Cedric admits, embarrassed.

"No way! That was just the start, look her friends are telling her to go talk to you!" Cedric's friend says, looking at the group of girls once again. It was true, Y/n's friends were hyping Y/n up to talk to the boy, saying how it's obvious Cedric is interested in her.

"He's literally looking at you right now again!" One of Y/n's friends shout a little too loud. Cedric and his friend heard this and looked at each other and laughed.

"See?" Cedric's friend says proudly.

"Yeah yeah, I think I'm gonna go to bed or something, I need good sleep for the Quidditch game tomorrow." Cedric says as he starts walking over to the dorm area.

Once Y/n decides to talk to Cedric, she turns away from her friends and starts walking over to where Cedric and his friend were. When she sees Cedric's friend standing alone, she gives him a confused look. Cedric's friend laughs and point to Cedric, who is walking away. She nods her head and smiles at the friend, silently thanking him.

Y/n waits to call out to Cedric once they are alone. When they are in an empty hallway, Y/n says, "You were really going to leave without talking to me?"

Cedric hears Y/n's voice, making his heart flutter. He turns around and smiles at the girl, "My mistake."

"Correct." Y/n says as she stops walking in front of the boy. "You scared of me?" Y/n laughs and waits for the boys answer.

"Would it be bad if I said a little?" Cedric says with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

"I'm not scary, Diggory!" Y/n exclaims, nudging his arm with her fist. "Maybe you're just a scardy cat?"

"Could be," Cedric shrugs.

"Join me in the common room?" Y/n asks, holding her hand out for the boy. Cedric smiles at the girls boldness, happily accepting her hand and walking into the Common Room hand in hand.

THE END

A/n: Hey guys! I hope you liked this! I wanted to write something short and cute, so here it is! Requests are open!

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 7

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers + hurt/comfort

Content Warnings - cursing, mentions of nightmares

Word Count - 3.0k

A/N: this one feels a bit rushed and all over the place, but hey there's some slight warming up heree

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

You already had a bad feeling about this year.

Firstly, you were late to the train, then you couldn’t find Cedric in any of the booths so you had to sit in one by yourself. Your arm was still sore if you put it in a certain position. You couldn’t get in a comfortable enough position to sleep in the booth.

So you just laid on your back on the cushion, your feet up on the wall next to the window. You stared at the ceiling of the train, tracing the patterns with your eyes.

The door of your booth slid open, you raised your head and looked up a bit too happily, hoping it would be Cedric.

All you got was a mop of ginger hair standing there.

“Mind if I take a seat?” Fred grinned.

You sighed and dropped your head back down on the seat. You didn’t want to talk to him, but you didn’t want to be alone the rest of the ride back to the school.

Not giving him a verbal response, you lazily gestured to the seat across from you, signaling for him to go ahead. It didn’t matter, he was going to sit down even if you said no.

He shut the door and sat happily.

“I was wondering why Cedric wasn't sitting with you.” He laid his back against the wall, putting his feet up on the seat.

“You saw him? Where?” You looked over.

“Sitting with Ms.Chang.” He said in a dramatically eloquent voice.

Great.

“He’s got a damn obsession with that girl.” You huffed as you rolled your eyes, looking back at the ceiling.

“How’s your arm?” Fred said awkwardly, picking at his nails.

“Better. I think.” You sighed, you were bored, you were tired, you didn’t want to deal with Fred, but you didn’t want to be alone.

“That’s good. How many more weeks til it’s off?”

“Fred.” You said flatly.

“Hm?” He turned his attention to you, brushing back some hair from his eyes.

“Why are you here?” You stared at him.

“Thought you’d like some company.” He shrugged. You only stared at him, knowing that was not the reason.

“Well, George is talking to Angelina, and I thought I’d at least bother you on our first day back.” He cracked.

“You’re doing a great job.” The annoyance in your tone was clear, yet that was probably the nicest thing you’ve said to him. Ever.

Fred let out a small hum as he sat up quickly, pulling his backpack from off the floor and taking something out of it.

“Well, I was thinking about your broken arm, and that gigantic cast must be no help with writing, so…” He presented a long, rectangular, orange box with a purple ribbon tied around it to you. “I made you something that might actually help you.”

You pulled yourself up, looking at the box and taking it from him slowly.

He nervously smiled as you unwrapped it and took the lid off.

Inside the box laid a quill, with several small bottles of different colored inks.

“It’s a self writing quill.” Fred beamed.

“What?”

“A self-writing quill.” He emphasized each word slowly. “You tell it what you want it to say and it’ll write it for you.” He shrugged, crossing his arms smugly.

“That’s…impressive.” You began to smile, biting it back once you realized it could just be another one of the twins' sick pranks. “Does it actually work? Or are you just tricking me?” You glared.

“It works. Just like the bruise cream did.” He smirked. He noticed, all your bruises were gone by now, thanks to the cream. “You can try it out right now if you want to.” So you did.

You took a piece of paper out of a notebook in your bag, carefully opened and dipped the quill in a bottle of ink and spoke aloud.

“Fred Weasley is an asshole.” You said happily, the quill floated up and began to write the same words all by itself, the handwriting was exactly the same as yours, creepy, but cool.

You hummed in satisfaction at the writing.

“Not bad, Weasley.” He shrugged and laid down on the seat. He placed his backpack under his head and crossed his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable.” He looked around, confused.

“You’re not staying in my booth! Go somewhere else!” You scoffed in disbelief, no way did he think you’d willingly let him stay with you.

“There is nowhere else.”

“Sit with George!” You cried.

“I don’t want to deal with him and Angelina flirting the entire ride.” He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t want to deal with you the entire ride!”

“If you’re so bothered by it, why don’t you find someone else to sit with? What about Cedric?”

“I got here first, you’re not gonna kick me out of my own booth!” You said sternly, like an angry mother, “Plus, I don’t want to deal with Cedric and Cho flirting the entire ride!” The side of Fred’s mouth slightly curled up at your last sentence. It took you a second to realize.

You two were basically in the same situation.

“Fine. You can stay.” You muttered, sinking back against the cushion. Fred began to open his mouth, but you pointed a finger up and stopped him.

“But, you will not talk to me. You will not play any pranks on me. And you will not bother me.” You clenched your jaw, he just smiled.

“As you wish.” He nodded, pulling out his scarf and placing it over his eyes, starting to nap right there.

You decided to try and do the same. It was fine and peaceful, you were on the verge of knocking out until he started snoring.

He would snore for a little bit, then stop, then snore again, then stop, and the cycle repeated.

Godric, you tried to ignore it, you tried to block it out, but ignoring Fred Weasley is impossible.

You called out his name, trying to get him to wake up, but he was dead asleep. He looked peaceful, so comfortable you almost didn’t want to wake him, but he was pissing you off.

You huffed out before grabbing the piece of parchment you tested the quill on earlier, you crumpled it into a ball and threw it at him.

It hit him right in the nose then fell onto the side of his neck.

He groggily removed the scarf from his eyes and blinked a few times, sitting up slightly and looking around with squinted eyes.

“Are we there already?” He rubbed his eyes.

“No.”

“Then why’d you wake me?”

“You were snoring. Loudly.” You stared at him with a straight face.

“Oh come on, I was not.”

“Was so!” You called back.

“I do not snore, you liar!.” He grimaced.

“Yes you do! You had your mouth wide open and everything!” You chuckled a bit.

“You looked like a dead fish!” You copied his pose from a few minutes ago, you slumped your head on your backpack, hung your mouth open, closed your eyes, and mocked his snoring.

“Oh, you’re just being ridiculous.” He laughed and threw the crumpled paper ball back at you. “Always dramatizing everything I do.”

“I don’t dramatize it! You’re just dramatic.” You laughed in return, throwing the ball at him again.

“Always so criticizing!” It became a battle between you two, bantering and laughing while throwing the ball back and forth at each other.

Soon the both of you got tired of messing around, you both laid in the same position on the seats. Backpacks under your head, feet up on the seat, arms crossed comfortably.

You yawned. It was getting dark and there were still a few more hours before you arrived at Hogwarts.

“I’m going to sleep. No pranks.” You threatened him. He lifted up his hands in surrender.

“No pranks.” He repeated. “But, I’ll see if you snore.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side and closing your heavy eyelids.

The screech of the metal wheels hitting the train tracks made you slightly stir in your sleep.

Two hands roughly shaking you fully woke you up.

“Hey, hey!” Fred called out, his voice still quiet, trying not to yell. You groaned and muttered, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“We’re here. Get up, sleepyhead.” He patted your shoulder, his bag was already hanging off one shoulder, you could see the students shuffling through the aisles.

You sat up and stretched, Fred had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What are you smiling so hard about?” You muttered.

“You’re a snorer.” He pointed at you, trying to stifle his grin.

“Am not!” You denied, grabbing your bag and shoved yourself in between students trying to get off the train. Fred followed suit.

“Oh you absolutely are. You go out like an old man!” He chuckled, beginning to make loud and dramatic snoring sounds.

You elbowed him in the side, he let out a small yelp and laughed some more, you bit back your smile, moving in front of him to walk down the train steps.

You made your way to get your luggage, only turning once towards Fred to get a final bite back at him.

“You drool. Did you know that?” You let out a playful scoff at him, a smile on your face and turning back around to walk away.

⋆⋆⋆

You hurried up the marble staircase to the entrance of the school. You were starving, all you wanted was something to eat and somewhere comfortable to sit.

A call of your name slowed you down, you turned your head to find Cedric catching up next to you.

“Cedric! Where were you? I couldn’t find you on the train!” You tried to mask over the frustration in your voice with sweetness, damn well knowing

“Really? Cause’ I was looking for you and um- I couldn’t find you anywhere!” He acted surprised.

“Hm, you wanna know who I was stuck with on the train-“ Your incoming rant was cut off when a large water filled balloon came speeding your way, hitting the ground and bursting at your feet.

You gasped as a small wave of cold water splashed onto your shoes and into your socks. You groaned and cursed.

Malicious laughter appeared from above you. You looked up to see Peeves the Poltergeist taking aim again at another group of students, McGonagall's voice boomed as she screamed his name, commanding him to get down as she chased after the ghost.

“Aw that’s a shame! We just witnessed Ron get hit with one right on the head!” George’s voice appeared from the side of you, laughing with Fred next to him.

“Better your feet than face!” Fred added on before George and him hurried on, shuffling through the crowd. You just rolled your eyes and grimaced.

Cedric’s attention was already turned to someone farther up in the crowd, Cho. Of course. He pardoned himself and promised to catch up with you more later, pushing past the crowd and speeding up next to Cho.

You uncomfortably continued on through the torch lit halls, cringing at the way your shoes squeaked with every step you took, until you were finally able to drop into a seat at the large wooden table in the Great Hall.

You were welcomed to sit by Katie Bell, who was sitting by Angelina, who was sitting across from the twins.

You could never get away from those bastards, could you?

You accepted the spot anyways, you’d rather have some type of company than none. Katie had always been kind to you anyways.

Dinner went nicely, the first years were sorted, you ate, compared your course schedules with Katie, finding out you had Charms with her and unfortunately Potions with the twins. Again. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher was introduced and the Triwizard Tournament was announced.

You saw as the twins' faces lit up in awe as the winning prizes were announced.

“A thousand galleons! You realize what with a thousand galleons!” George said, nearly bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Oh I’m going for it! I’m going for it!” Fred whispered excitedly.

"Eager though I know all of you will be," Dumbledore continued on, "the heads of the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are seventeen years or older will be allowed to put forward their names." His voice was soon wiped out by several students that had made groans and noises of outrage, especially the twins.

Their expressions of excitement had changed into fury. They began to shout.

“That’s rubbish!” The twins exclaimed in unison, the room was filled

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Fred booed.

Dumbledore's voice shouted for silence and continued on with his speech. You looked at the displeased faces of the twins, you almost wanted to laugh at their scowls.

"They can't do that!" muttered George, glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?" He groaned.

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also frowning.

After Dumbledore was finished with the announcement, he dismissed everyone to bed. You walked with Katie and Angelina, trailing behind the twins, who were already speaking in hushed tones of a plan to get in the tournament.

⋆⋆⋆

The next few days were tiring, you were stuck once again in Snape's class with the twins, and you already had a large load of work to do with other classes.

The twins seemed to be giving you a break from being a victim of their tricks, too busy with whatever their plan was to get their names in the cup.

The quill they gave you came surprisingly in handy. However, not wanting their help, you still attempted to write by yourself, though your writing would come out messy.

You were just counting down the days until you could get that stupid cast off.

You'd lost count of how long it’s been since you haven't had a nightmare about that night. It was constant. Being scared awake in the middle of the night by your own dreams.

Tonight you weren’t able to sleep at all, especially after the horrid dream you had. Instead of continuing to toss and turn in bed, you decided to go down into the common room, maybe the fireplace would provide some comfort.

You were met with a mop of ginger hair, one of the twins already sitting on the sofa, a sketchpad in front of him.

Dammit.

You didn’t mean to sigh out loud, grabbing the attention of Fred. Who stopped and whipped his head around. His expression was a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Trying to sneak out?” Fred asked.

“Had a bad dream. Can’t sleep.” You said flatly as you began walking over to the sofa. There was no point in going back upstairs. You’d be stuck awake either way.

You sunk down into the empty side, criss crossing your legs.

“What’re you doing awake? Planning your next horrific prank?”

“Coming up with a new idea.” Fred grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “See for yourself.” He handed his sketchpad to you.

You took it hesitantly, only to be surprised by the detailed potion bottle drawn on the parchment.

You were utterly shocked, this was like a renaissance painting compared to the shit he drew for Snape's homework.

"You made this?” Fred shrugged and nodded. “This is fantastic…" You trailed off, taking in the well put in effort.

“Was that a compliment I heard?” He sounded genuinely surprised as his face lit up into a mischievous grin.

“Oh shove it. You can draw this but not a cabbage?” You scoffed, tossing his sketchpad in his lap.

It felt wrong to be talking so casually with him. So nice. You should be spitting insults at him right now, you should be being meaner, maybe you’re just too sleepy to bother.

“You know, I’m surprised you weren’t sorted into Slytherin with how crude you are.”

“I’m not crude! You’re just bloody annoying.” You huffed.

“Cabbage are boring to draw anyways. It’s fun when it’s original and something fantastic.” He grinned, using your niceness against you.

“You just can’t help it, can you?” You shook your head as you gave him an unamused look.

“Help what?”

“Being full of yourself.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be full of me?” He smirked, a dramatic seductive tone in his voice.

“God, you’re gross!” You grimaced. “Merlin, do not make me stab you with a pencil again.” You muttered to yourself, you could feel your eyes drooping and your body felt heavier.

You yawned before shifting in your soft, curling up and resting your head on the leather armrest.

“How’s your arm?”

“Better.” You said flatly.

“What was your dream about?”

“Nothing good.” Fred let out a small hum, taking the hint that you weren’t up for talking anymore.

The room was silent except for the sounds of fire crackling and Fred shifting in his spot.

“I can leave you be if you’d-” Fred began as he sat up, gathering his sketchpad and pencils.

“No, you can stay!” You cringed at how your voice pipped as you lifted your head up, you sounded way too eager, too desperate. Fred must’ve noticed it too, he looked at you with complete confusion, shocked you weren’t trying to shoo him away for once.

“I just…I don't want to be alone tonight.“ You mumbled, it came out more depressing than you meant for it to sound. You cringed at how pathetic it sounded.

“Well, we can just sit here for a while, okay?” There was a change in his demeanor, one you’ve never seen before. Such a soft tone, a reassuring look in his eyes.

“Okay.” You agreed silently, laying your head back down. Fred eventually went back to sketching. You stared at the blooming fire as your eyelids fell heavier and heavier. Eventually drifting off to sleep.

You awoke a few hours later, it was early morning, the sun just above to make its first appearance for the day.

The spot on the couch next to you was empty. There was a blanket draped over your body and a few chocolates sitting at the small table right in front of you.

tell me what you thought!

[unconventional-lawnchair]

There's not much Barty Crouch Jr content out there. If you don't mind writing about him, can I make a request? After escaping Azkaban, he serves his Lord to the best of his ability, but there is someone from his past that he still can't get out of his mind. A Slytherin and from a family of followers of the Dark Lord. They had a relationship during their youth. After many years, he finds her again. He always had a soft spot for her. But the reader (like Snape, a sort of spy) is secretly thinking against the Dark Lord and stays away from these things as much as possible, but she is definitely in danger. Things are complicated, but the strong attraction and longing between them cannot be ignored...

The Boy I Knew

Barty Crouch Jr. x Black!Fem!Reader

Cw; Y/N, obsessions, one sided love(Barty pining), Barty being unhinged. Reader is morally grey, Remus Lupin onesided love (Rem pining), sexual themes and scenes, mentions of murder}} Please tell me if I missed anything!

AN- this fanfic is now well over what it should have been. I am posting a fraction of the proofread bits as of now, as I realize this is probably not at all what you wanted and if so I am SO sorry. If you want more I have a pouch that just needs to be beta read

Wc-5670

Taglist: @defnotfrey @au-ghosttype

{. 1972 - Barty’s Year 1 .}

Bartemius Crouch Junior couldn't have been older than eleven when he first met {Y/N} Walburga Black.  A cool upperclassman, if only by a year. 

Bartemius, at that ripe age, knew only a handful of things, and two of those was how badly he wanted to be seen and known. He wanted to be seen for who he was, and known for what he would do. That's likely what drew him to you. 

At only twelve, you and your brother had made a name for yourselves, in much different ways. Your brother was popular, for his quick tongue and clever quips, his innate ability to get under anyone's skin and stay there. Those traits could be forgiven, and they always were, for his big heart and intense sense of moral. 

You, however, were known for harboring a few very non Black traits, like your intense empathy and your crazed thirst for knowledge. Even as a Slytherin, your loyalty and curiosity rivaled the students around you tenfold. Your bravery knew no bounds, even with all the wrongs you had been done, you were forgiving and understanding. You were seen by everyone, you were known for everything.

As he got older, he wondered where that forgiveness went. You grew cold.

When he was innocent, when he had done no wrongs, you cradled him in your hands like he was a gift. You looked at him with eyes you shared with everyone, so much care and patience, so much understanding and kindness. So if those eyes were shared with the masses, he struggled, but was determined, to keep them focused on himself at any chance given.

It was obvious to anyone who saw the two interact. Barty wanted to be witnessed by you. The halls filled with the judgeful and teasing murmurs when he found you in the halls.

“There goes {Y/N}’s prodigy.”

“Barty is off to find his guru.”

“That boy will never learn.”

“How annoying.”

Barty had never been ashamed of his declarations for praise. He knew most of the voices were bitter with jealousy. He would be jealous too. You were both so young, and yet even some older students looked to you like you were twice your age, yet every Friday when the tests were returned, you sat in the courtyard and waited for him. Your personal underclassman.

You would meet in the yard and he would brandish his flawless marks, you would praise his abilities in absolute pride. He had never had someone prideful of him before. Everyone knew him to be a mother’s boy, but he would challenge any of those claims. He was a {Y/N}’s boy, he'd tell them, no shame as students snickered and made their fun of him. He was never afraid of how much he liked you. How much he admired and respected you.

He would turn from the RavenClaw table and look to you after his announcements everytime, you would be eating with Lily Evans and the other girls of her group, but your eyes would be on him. You would give him a soft smile that drove him mad. He would return it with his own, the smile he would save for you. Just you.

When he was only eleven and you were twelve, everything was perfect for him. You focused your attention on studies, your friends, and of course, Barty. That's how it stayed for years.

He would reminisce in his cell, running his dulled nail along the jagged stone walls, carving intents of every minute that passed. Remembering all of the things he regretted most in his life. Losing your trust was where his spiral began. He was a foolish kid.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 3 .}

“It's getting embarrassing.”

Barty was eating lunch with one of the many friends he had made during his years at Hogwarts, Evan Rosier. He was once again bringing the conversation back to you, as he had been for the past few days.

“You trail after her like a loyal dog. Has she even given you a hint that she may return your feelings?” 

“What feelings?”

Evan and you did not get along. You never had. When he first found himself growing closer to him, you voiced your distaste for Evan the very next day. Barty always trusted your judgment, he obeyed you without much of a fight in most cases. This was not one of those cases.

He figured you to be biased, your brother thought him to be a Death Eater and you despised them. Something he could never understand, you were a pureblood, a Black, you were a powerful witch, and you would never have to worry about falling for a half blood or muggleborn, or Merlin forbid, a muggle. You were smarter than that. He always figured. You wouldn't taint your legacy.

Not like your useless brother, who he could see even now, describing his entanglements with witches and wizards of any kind, to the other Marauders.

As the years went on, you and Barty’s meetings became scarcer and scarcer, they went from Fridays to every second Friday, finally, you now only met every last Friday of the month. Still, Barty clung to you with a desperation he never would give anyone else.

Recently, you had gotten into a fight. One where you expressed your worry for what could possibly happen to him if he got involved with the wrong crowd. Barty, admittedly, didn't respond in kind. He was furious with you. You questioned his company but pushed away from him, you questioned his morals and his standing on the war. He told you there was no war to him, there was no fight.

At the end of the day, he would be standing by you.

The answer seemed to distress you further. It turned into a match of shouts and desperate pleas of compliance. It caused a scene, people watched as you defended your standing on your side of the war, this fight you were having with yourself he assumed. There was no war. This was a power struggle.

Evan’s scoff snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate to his eyes. 

“Barty, half the school knows you've been in love with her since first year.” He hissed and Barty frowned. Would he call it love? He didn't think about it long before he had his answer. Love wasn't something he looked for, but he found it constantly. From the love he shared with Pandora, to the love he shared with Regulus, even the love he was nurturing with the brutish Evan.

No love in his body burned hotter then his love for you. 

He never thought about it because he never had to. Why would he? He knew you loved him too. He knew what you two shared was never anything that could be challenged. He was your prodigy. He was your prodigy. He didn't care for much, as long as he was yours. 

Evan snapped his fingers in his face and drew his attention back to him. He gave a slick smirk and wet his lips. “Come on, Barty, she's just a girl. You're wasting talent. Talent that could be used for someone who actually appreciates you.”

“She does appreciate me.” Barty challenged immediately, before Evan smirked and gestured to the Gryffindor table. “Does she?”

Barty turned just in time to see you, he never had to stare at a crowd too long to find you. 

You were sitting with your brother and his friends, side by side with Remus, sitting far too close for comfort. He was whispering something in your ear, making you giggle. Turning to look at him with the truest smile he's ever seen you make. Flashing your beautifully uneven teeth, your cheeks dimpling and eyes seeming to sparkle. Your eyes met Lupin’s and he took in your expression like he could die in that moment. 

Barty had never seen you smile like that before. He had never seen you look that way before. You had never looked at him like that before.

He hadn't even noticed as he began to bend the fork in his hand, fist tightening as he watched as Remus lean in and stole a kiss against your cheek. You gave a bigger laugh at this. Moving in to kiss his lips carefully. 

The wonderful moment you were having was interrupted when a loud snap sounded threw the cafeteria. Your eyes snapped over to the RavenClaw table, as did a lot of your peers. Barty had snapped a fork in half with his thumb alone. Before a professor could scold him, he got up from his seat and stomped out of the grand hall, and your eyes followed them.

You muttered a quick apology to Remus and he nodded in understanding as you scrambled to your feet to follow after him. 

He wished he could take every word he called you in that hall back now. He wished he had been smart enough to know that loving you with you in his life would of been far less torture then loving a girl who hated your guts. 

“You blood trader!”

“This! This is what I meant, Bartemius! My Barty would never-”

“You don't have a clue about me, you insolent heartbreaker! What of us, Black?”

“Us? What Us, Barty?”

That night he realized that no matter how genuine his love was for you, how deeply it ran, those times spent alone meant far more to him then it ever meant to you. You did stuff like that for everyone. 

He wasn't entitled to your love. Running his nail down until it was blunted against the wall. Azkaban could no longer do more harm then it already had.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 4 .}

An entire school year. You and Barty didn't speak for an entire school year.

He kept his tabs on you, of course, because no matter what you said to him that day, you were still his person. Knowing how ignorant and how dangerously minded you could be, he took it upon himself to look over you. You may have been older, you may have sworn him, at one time, your loyalty and protection. But now, he had power of his own. He would repay you. He would repay and reeducate you, given the chance. With all the training him, Evan, Muliciber, Avery, even Snape had done? By Merlin’s beard he could do anything.

He had the mind to back that up, but he kept his power under wraps. You were always frightened by what you didn't understand, the last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. He wanted everyone to know him as fear, not you.

Never you.

When the school year started Barty noticed the shift instantly. He knew you like the back of his hand, far more than he let on most days, but it didn't take a genius to see that {Y/N} Black sitting with Regulus Black at the Slytherin table was odd. 

He soon learned of what happened between Sirius and his family, a right disgrace. Then to learn Sirius scorned you from his life for choosing to stay with Regulus, that was probably what started Barty’s absolute disdain for your brother. You had gone through training per Regulus. Saying before Sirius left he let it slip about you and Remus, trying to entice you to leave with him. You refused and your mother lost it. Walburga was a stain on this earth for what she had done. Even then…

It was all for the better, as he saw it. You don't need the impressions of Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, Remus Lupin, or any others that pour their venom into a perfect witch as yourself. He would make sure it stayed that way, even if it hurt you. However, he couldn't lie.

You always looked your best when you knew your worth. 

It wasn't just your routine that changed, you became cold to your old friends, dropping the Muggle borns and staying weary of the half bloods. You started to associate mainly with more influential Purebloods.

That meant him. 

He knew his father was good for something.

“Crouch? Would you like to accompany me to the library?” Your voice sang out to him, despite your listless monotone and drifting eyes. It was the first sentence you muttered to him in 13 months. Your voice was more reserved, your back straightened and your lips pouted. You didn't look like that 12 year old he knew, you were 16 now. Even in his depravity, he took notice of every lovely advancement you had taken in care of your appearance. Your mother instructed you with glamours and proper wear, even now wearing a black feathered choker and brandished a black quill. A family heirloom, Regulus would tell him.

Now, he hated your mother, there was no question about that. What she had done to Regulus was unforgivable, what she had done to you was cause for retaliation in his eyes. But Merlin, did she put you back on the path of greatness.

“Crouch? {Y/N}, my love, it will always be Barty to you.” He lit up like a child, voice sugary sweet. It was your turn to take notice of his change. He was still the same boy you met in first year. Endlessly obsessive, devoted, and excelling at all the things you liked about him. Unfortunately, also the things you hated. 

But, he was still your Barty in your heart. The boy you loved, the boy you cherished, the boy who charmed your soul in ways you didn't know possible. If you had to pick anyone to fill the hollowed out ache in your chest, you chose dangerously, Barty Crouch Jr would be your reprieve.

He was just older now. He was becoming a man.

Everyone knows what they say, about a boy and a girl, coming into their own together. Barty figured this was your love story, you weren't one to argue any longer.

He didn't care that you only seemed to speak to him out of necessity. When he heard from Regulus that your mother was making you pick your friends based on their social standing, any males to soon be a suitor, he was ecstatic.

He was remarkable. He was seen. He was valuable enough to you to not be a mere pawn but maybe even a queen on your chest set. To be used by you? It was worth every moment of the ache. All of this because his father just so happened to keep his filthy hands to the purest bloodlines.

That was his value to you. His blood, his sweat, his labor, and his mind. They were yours, no questions asked. He clung to your heel with new found determination. He would keep you on the right track, the promised one. The one that would ensure your children had the same opportunities. 

He knew he wanted this the moment he walked in on you and Severus arguing in the courtyard.

“You dare call her a Mudblood, you incessant pompous Half Breed?!” Your voice echoed through the halls. People watched in horror, some in absolute shock, the sweet kind girl they had grown attached to was a right monster now. Barty, however, was loving it. You were a proper pureblood.

“{Y/N}-” Severus spoke carefully, something about his tone was far too familiar for Barty’s liking, him addressing you by first name made his jaw tighten. He didn't have to say a word. You rectified it.

“Do not address me as anything other than Black, you dirty mutt!” You screeched. Severus looked stunned, the usually stoic boy looked broken. Barty watched as your eyes trailed over a shocked and watery eyed Lily Evans, he almost didn't catch you muttering, “You lost that privilege.”

He, of course, came to your rescue, as he always promised. Hand around your back and escorted you away from the fight. As you both walked down the corridor your path was blocked. 

Barty almost laughed, Remus Lupin. He was standing with Sirius Black, both staring threatening daggers at Barty. When you both kept walking, Barty shoved a path between the two boys, you hand a fistful of his cloak so as to not be left behind.

He didn't like how Remus’s eyes softened at the sight of you. He didn't like how Sirius reached for you. He walked faster, putting your sniffling form in front of himself.

After that, he knew he had you. 

You were becoming who you were meant to be.

~~~

He took his mark that summer, standing alongside your brother Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy, Beatrix Black and Evan Rosier. They were at your cousin’s manor, in the ballroom standing side by side. He was as straight as a board, brimming with pride, smirking to himself and brandishing his left arm.

He could feel your eyes on him, from where you stood, next to Narcissa, your aunt and your mother. Waiting for him. 

Evan was first, standing beside Barty and holding out his wrist. When the wand hovered over his wrist and the Death Eater began to mutter the incantation, Evan let out a blood curdling sound. Pure brutish pain shot through him, leading him to fall back. Quickly held up by two other death eaters behind him.

When the wand brushed Barty’s wrist next, he hardly flinched. Tilting his head back as sweat gathered around his temple and neck. He bit his lip and let himself feel every sharp intrusion the spell took, letting himself succumb to the blissful pain.

When he returned to you, not standing to wait for dismissal like the rest of them, he wrapped his arm around your waist and yanked you in. He stole your lips for his own, making you give a slight gasp. You don't fight it, so he pushed further, letting himself taste your bottom lip and pulling it punishingly between his teeth. Through his high he was able to recognize and memorize the feel of your lips and the taste, in his mind, it was the closest to the gods he'd ever get. What was true heaven, however, was when you took his cheeks in your hands and kissed him back.

“Enough.” He heard your mother hiss from beside you. She shooed Barty away like he was some stray dog. He backed down from where you stood, licking his lips and admiring just how shaken and red you looked. Your mother, the hag, pushed you behind herself and hid you away from his eyes.

When you looked away and covered your mouth, he almost didn't notice how you also licked your lips clean. That drove him mad.

He had come to the conclusion early on, you were a temptress. A vixen. A damned Siren as far as he knew. 

Memories of that night, your first kiss, the moment he could see you falling for him. A proper man, worthy of the worship he planned to give you. Worthy of serving a goddess like you. It kept him up most nights, it was a high even the dementor's couldn't take away, but they did manage to warp his obsession from what he believed to have been holy, to the truth.

He was brought on this earth for you. Without you, he was nothing. He was rotting.

{. 1976 Barty’s Year 6 .}

The next year he took your hand and promised you the world. To his delight, you responded in kind. You began dating his sixth year and it was absolute bliss. 

It didn't last long, that bliss. It became a thrill.

Despite his power and loyalty to the dark lord, your mother favored another's for your hand. Particularly, Avery. His father came to your mother with the proposal, your mother liked his offer of the estate and your own power over the house.

You, however, much to Barty’s delight, were way too far gone. In your now secret meetings, where you would take you strolls along the city street, to the shop or to the boutique. You made a show of it; but you only truly left for Crouch Manor.

Where Mr. and Mrs. Crouch turned their other cheek as you snuck your way to Barty’s chambers. Behind those locked doors your love was dangerous. His whispers and promises of treachery against your family name were met with nothing less than desperate devotion and promises in kind. As your palms glided over his bare chest and his large hands found their way under your skirt.

His favorite memories were all locked away in that room. The room he made you his own, where his hands grew familiar with your skin in ways no one else ever could, where he found an affinity for you breathless, and where he heard you let out sounds no self respecting Black heiress should ever let out. 

He claimed what was his birthright, between your legs. Bruised your lips numb and left marks you had to charm away when you made it back home. Just in time for supper.

With the feeling of him still fresh on your body. The pureblood heir your parents thought so lowly of. The heir they didn't see fit to sit at that very table, was still there. His lips were on the rim of the cup you sipped from, his hands were on the arm rests you relaxed against, and his teeth and claws were buried into their perfect daughter.

{. 1978 .}

By the time you both graduated, you took your place at the table. Having fought to hold off your engagement to Avery, Barty took it into his own hands to get between the two of you. Every time you glance in the boy's direction, he shrivels in on himself.

“Barty?” You whispered between his greedy kisses, in the halls of the Malfoy manor.  The only times his hands could find your hips and his lips could find yours outside of his own room now. He was starting to see less and less of you. The war was in full swing and with his desperation for you was all that was driving him most days. 

Thinking now, he wondered what drove you. Even now, having spent a year in Azkaban, you were still the light he flew to, no matter how much it hurt him. He could have sworn, at one time, it was him.

“Darling.” He whispered low against your lips. You tangled your fingers into his hair, before pulling him down. He rested his chin against the curve of your chest and looked up into your eyes.

You bit your lip, running your thumb along his own reddening ones. “Do you love me, Barty?” You cooed.

“I do.” He affirmed, licking the skin you touched along his Cupid's bow, “I do, more than anything.” His voice was raw and rough, he pulled at your hold, trying desperately to kiss you again.

“Do something for me, Barty.” 

“Anything, Darling. Anything.” He muttered, eyes still on your lips.

“Be within my reach. Always.” You whispered before releasing him. He took your lips once more, pushing you back against the wall like the very prospect of not touching you in some way was physically painful. His hand traveled up from your hand to rub over the mark you took just days earlier.

Every moment like that seemed fleeting. 

The very next year, Regulus Black passed. He had gone MIA and your mother, despite her loyalty to Voldemort, commanded you home. It got worse when they officially announced his death.

You stayed locked in those walls, by order of your mother. He missed you dearly. Barty never wanted to be your hero, some great commander, he couldn't care less now about who else even knew his name anymore. He was older now, and he just wanted to be yours. 

So, it pushed Barty to work even harder. Anything to appease The Dark Lord, get this war over with, so he could return to the only true person worthy of his reverence. 

Without you, his life went by in simple clips of reality. When Voldemort fell, he was imprisoned in this hellhole, and even now, he found himself unable to let anything else consume his mind.

The dripping of water from the rusting metal doors drove him mad. No other sounds but the miserable screams of inmates and slamming of bodies against pavement. It was a torturous and hopeless place, some people preferred punishment by their own hands. There was suddenly a loud clanging of keys that cut his thoughts.

He looked up from the corner of his cell, putting his thumb in his mouth and sucking on the bleeding torn skin. The marks he had made on the cell walls marked his 354th day in this nightmare. His eyes locked with his father and his mother, furrowing his brow as he stood.

His mother two out two veils of a slug colored potion, his father had another potion in his hand.

Barty didn't stay in that cell to see his 355th.

~~~

{. 1994 POV Shift .}

“It's a bit cold, don't you think?”

Remus Lupin's voice cut through the fog of your mind like a knife through butter. He was right, of course. Even as the year grew warmer with the summer months growing closer, the astronomy tower always gave a pleasant and persistent chill. 

You were used to it, by now. Being the Astronomy Professor for almost twelve years. About the same amount of years you managed to avoid coming into contact with Remus himself. 

You had to give him credit, Remus Lupin, he was persistent. Doing everything in his power to get you alone. As if one conversation would melt away years of what you had done, the people you deceived, the lives you took, the lies you told… all in the name of a crazed boy long lost to the history of the wizarding world. For the family who was as faded as the family tree you used to tend to with your brothers, painting names and burning faces. 

As if speaking to you would somehow bridge a gap. A gap in his heart that still ached for you. It was never something he was able to understand, your persistent and endless love for Crouch had come out of nowhere for him. He couldn't look Sirius in the eye for a long time, learning he had outed your budding relationship. 

He took every chance he could, to reach out, to speak to you, it was met with closed doors and a reminder of remaining professional. 

“It is. Heading out, Lupin?” You muttered to him. You couldn't lie and say having him here didn't make you feel, in some ways, nostalgic. To the loving, caring, respectful girl you once knew. One with so much patience and kindness you shared it with all kinds of souls. Souls you've watched drop like flies under the man you swore your life to.

“I am.” Remus muttered but didn't turn to leave. You shifted on your heel to look back at him from the entrance of the tower. He had his hand resting on the railing, his palm thudding against the railing as he tried to gather the courage to continue.

“I heard you gave Snape quite the earful.” He hummed, walking deeper into your classroom. You thinned your lips and shook your head, turning away from him. He gave a weak scoff. 

“Could you at least look at me?” He pushed, his voice wavering. You closed your eyes and gave a deep sigh. Your hands moved to grab the railing.

“What is it, Lupin?” 

“It's not too late.” He whispered and you closed your eyes. His words were exact, aimed to cut deep and retrieve from you the heart he knew was there; it just had grown cold. “You could come back. With me, tonight, we can meet with Padfoot and-”

“And what, Lupin?” You spoke calmly as you turned to face him. He went rigid at your stare. “Live this wonderful life you have weaved out for us? Pretend that everything is okay and the last few years never happened?” You pushed and he closed his eyes. 

Anger bubbled in his throat with something familiar, jealousy and bitter melancholy. If he could hear you any clearer you would be cotton in his ears. Your words were empty because he knew you could. Put Hogwarts behind you and come back to him, come with him and Sirius like you should have done back when you wore uniform and not cloaks like proper professors. Nothing was proper about you two aching hearts anyway. 

Yet history repeated itself.

It always would.

“You know he's gone.” Remus started slowly and your breath caught in your throat. You felt your eyes grow glossy with grief and you placed your left hand over your heart. 

“I never thought I would be someone's second choice. To Bartemius Crouch Jr.” He continued. “I see I never measured up, did I?” 

“... I am sorry, Remus.” You whispered, your voice, for the first time in years, was vulnerable. It was careful.

Because of course you loved Remus. You loved him dearly, but no man would own you like Barty had. You were terrified to let yourself be loved with anything less than what he had shown you. Steadfast and faithful love. No one could challenge the status of Barty in your life.

Even in death his ghost reminds you of your place. Next to him. 

Once this was over, once Dumbledore had seen and used his worth in you, when you were no longer under his wing like a servant, you would go back to 12 Grimmauld Place. You would retire. And you would wait for Barty to take you back home. Let it be a year, let it be ten, you would return to him as promised.

“... What have you become?” He whispered to you, and your eyes finally raised to meet him. You caught your tears and quickly cleaned your face. Shaking your head you put back on your practiced and perfect pout.

“.. A Black.”

Your exchange ended there. 

Remus returned to your brother, you presumed. You forged ignorance when you were questioned by the Ministry of your brother’s whereabouts. It didn't take much for them to let you be, especially with Mr. Crouch Senior’s particular protectiveness of you. Probably a gift from Mrs. Crouch, oh, how you missed her.

When Barty was taken and your mother was far too weak to control you, you visited the Crouchs’ daily. You helped Winky with taking care of his parents, particularly his sick and fragile mother. You grew a weak repore with his father, though you despised him. 

As a proper pureblood you just silently reaped the benefits of what the world had gifted you.

Including your wealth. With the house of Black fallen you were left to be the soul heir. Though, the moment you heard of Sirius Black’s escape, you reopened your joint account. Soon, you heard someone was able to access it. It was true; your brother was alive and well.

That was the only olive branch you extended to him. 

Once the school year was officially over you returned home. To your modest house down in an old town just a broom ride away from Hogwarts. Feldcroft.

You returned home, it was uneventful. Until you opened your door. 

You were greeted by Winky, the Crouch’s house elf. That wouldn't be unusual, Barty had preached to her about how you were both intended. How she should attend to you, how she attended to him. So she would appear at your house from time to time, with gifts and food she had prepared for Crouch Senior that she made just too much of.

“Winky?” You called out to the figure in your hall. The sheepish girl turned to face you with a careful smile.

“Madam Black has returned! How happy Winky is to see you, mistress.” She declared and hurried up to you. Her path was cut short as Creature stepped in front of her, snapping away your bags. He seemed in a foul mood. Fowler then usual.

“Your mother would not approve of your company, Ms. Blaaaack.” He warned and you furrowed your brow. “Nor would she approve of this home-”

“Kreature.” You demanded and he huffed. Winky was always coming in and out, Creature never voiced displeasure with her company and your mother, well, she could care less. “What company?”

“The noisy Crouch, Ma'am.”

Your heart dropped. He apparated away, assumingly to unpack your bags. Your eyes widened as Winky appeared in front of your full view. Showing off the black quill you had most definitely left at home. Your mothers old quill. You took it carefully from the house elf.

“Winky..” You spoke carefully and slowly. Holding up the quill between your fingers. “Who gave this to you?”

“I think you know, Darling.” 

Before Winky could answer, a voice lost to time spoke first. You knew it before you even turned around. 

Still, you jerked your entire body to face him. Your eyes locked, full of longing and hope.

 And there he was. Your Barty.

He was holding a newspaper, licking his bottom lip but his eyes were on you. His eyes were just how you always remembered them. So full of danger and appreciation for your simple presence. He stepped towards you and you took a step back. He tsked at that, reaching out to grab your waist. “Darling..” He whispered.

You were still in shock. Staring up at his brown eyes and waiting. For anything. “Barty?” You whispered.

When he kissed you, alarm bells went off in your head. You didn't listen to any of them, grabbing him just as greedily as he held you. Both of your eyes closed and you held each other like you might perspire. 

He was home.

He truly was.

[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝!𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝!𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // your parents were never kind and sweet type of people, but in your sixth year things got out of hand. To put a cherry on top, a certain platinum blond haired Slytherin Prince decided to be Sherlock Holmes and found out your secrets, ones nobody is supposed to know.

// Warnings // mentions of violence, both physical and verbal violence, abusive parents, bullying, hate towards reader, ignorance, name calling (princess in a mocking way, shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time), reader has a backstory, suicidal thoughts, reader has an attempt of suicide, crying, talk about past.

// Author’s Note // please pay attention to warnings! I don’t write about Draco usually, but I couldn’t get idea out of my mind, so I just went with it. This is enemies to lovers. Also, I have mentioned once that reader is 16, but for the sake of this plot, since every sixth year is 16. This is a part two, please read part one first! / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @talesfromthecrypts

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 in progress

Few months had passed since the first day of Hogwarts. Things with your family were getting worse each day. You received letters from them on a daily basis, all of them saying how much of a disappointment and waste of time you were. You felt as if you were a piece of trash. Your mother made sure of it.

You became lonely, quite literally. You were studying during the day, and sleeping or just thinking at nights. Sometimes you would even sneak out in the Astronomy Tower late at nights, just to be alone.

Hermione, Harry and Ron became concerned, but you were shrugging them off and keeping your distance. Harry, being the Sherlock Holmes he was, became suspicious and tried everything to get you to say something, but you were mastered in hiding and keeping secrets.

Little did you know that a certain platinum blond haired boy was growing suspicious as well.

One day, you were sitting in the library, pretending to read, but all you could think of, was a letter your mother has sent you earlier that day, which was laying innocently on the table in front of you. Shame, disgrace, disappointment, waste of time. You were sick and tired of those words, you just wanted to get rid of them, but they kept wandering inside your head, never leaving.

You heard footsteps approaching you, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. You looked up to be met with Malfoy, Goyle and Zabini. Again, something was wrong with the Slytherin Prince. He was quiet, it seemed like he wasn’t the one who was leading the latter two.

Goyle walked forward and leaned on the table with his elbows. He looked at the letter and took it in his hands. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted by standing up and snatching the letter out of his hands harshly.

“If you’re going to tell me how much of a shame and disgrace I am, don’t waste your time. Believe me, you don’t have to. I have already been told that more than enough times.” You said without thinking and immediately regretted it. Your voice was quiet, but firm. You turned around and walked out of the library.

The three boys looked at each other with the same expression that said ‘what the hell did just happen’. Neither understood what happened. This only caused one of them to grow even more suspicious.

Christmas was approaching. Everyone was happy, happy to spend time with their families, happy to spend time with their loved ones. Everyone except you. You didn’t want to go home, no, not home, your parents’ manor. You wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but you would get into a huge trouble, and getting in trouble with your parents wasn’t very… pleasant.

You were sitting in the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor house table, when Harry approached you, a little hesitantly.

“Hey,” he started softly, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

You were fighting the urge to roll your eyes, “Yes Harry, I am fine, really. Don’t worry.” You gave him the fakest smile ever, and he bought it.

But Malfoy didn’t… he was watching from afar.

The letters your parents sent you every day and night were very shitty. That’s how you ended up in Moaning Myrtle’s lavatory, sobbing your eyeballs out. You were leaning against the sink, looking in the mirror and sobbing uncontrollably while Myrtle told you that everything would be fine.

“No Myrtle, nothing will be fine. Ever.” You said in the middle of sobs.

“Talk to your parents then.” Myrtle said in her dreamy, high-pitched voice.

You laughed bitterly at her statement, your voice coming out loud and harsh, a maniacal sound that would make a person wince. “Talk to my parents? Oh, but they are the very reason why I am sobbing the shit out of myself right now Myrtle. Do you know how they treat me? Can you even imagine the pain they put me through? Let me guess. No! You don’t! You can’t! Has your father ever beat you until you were bleeding?! Has your mother ever used Cruciatus curse on you?! And that’s because of this whole pureblood supremacy shit! Because of the house you are put in! I am tired Myrtle, tired of standing strong for 16 goddamn years! I deserve some break.” You said, rising your voice every time you would swear.

It was crystal clear that Myrtle was shocked, “Talk to your friends, or your headmaster then. That is abuse, it needs to stop.”

“I can’t! If I say a word about this, they will most definitely kill me. I don’t give two shits if I die, no. I just don’t want to be killed by them! And about friends, I do not have any. And do you know why? Because I can’t have any! I don’t want to put any of my friends in danger or be put in danger because of them!” You looked in the mirror, then lowered your head once again and started crying.

After few minutes of brutal silence and your quiet sobs, you looked up and wiped away your tears with the palms of your hands.

“You know what,” you started, looking at Myrtle, “do you know how high the Astronomy Tower is?”

Myrtle looked really confused now, “Why?”

“Oh, just wanted to go up there, gaze at the sky, but I have a terrible fear of highs, you see…”

It was a lie, of course, but Myrtle bought it. After all, parents like yours were good at rising flawless liars.

“It’s high, indeed, but I don’t think you will be scared. Platform is huge.”

You faked a sad smile and thanked her, “Thank you, I’ll see you soon.” You walked out of the bathroom. “Or not.” You mumbled to yourself, thinking nobody heard you. But someone did. This someone being very annoying Draco Lucius Malfoy.

He spied on you the whole time and to make matters even worse, he heard every single word you said. So, obviously, he followed you.

When you reached the Astronomy Tower, you headed straight towards the edge and looked out.

“Oh my god, what am I doing?!” You asked yourself out loud.

You slightly leaned forward, when two strong arms cuffed your wrists and turned you around. A soft gasp escaped from your mouth at this sudden action. However, you were shocked when you saw who did this.

Draco Fucking Malfoy

“What the hell?! Were you actually planning to jump out of there?!” He asked. But what confused you more was the anger latched on his face.

“Why do you care?” You asked in a quiet tone.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were going to commit suicide!” his voice was firm and stern, but dripping with sarcasm at the same time.

“Yeah, but why do you care?! Not that we’re friends or anything. You have been making my life miserable since the day I stepped my foot in the Great Hall for the first time, and now you care all of a sudden?!” You hissed through gritted teeth, your voice coming out venomous, a bit louder this time. You didn’t know why, but him being angry at you for attempting to end your life, for attempting to end all this pain and leave this hell forever, made you angry too. He was one of the people who made you hate your life, made you hate yourself, and now he was suddenly scolding you for trying to end it all. You didn’t know why, but it made you boil with anger.

What made you even angrier was that he didn’t say anything, he just stood there, looking down at the cold floor of the tower, completely silent. Why do you care?! Your voice echoed in his head, sounding louder and louder every second. Why did he care? You were right. He had been making your life a living hell since the day one, he had been the one to approach you for no reason and call you the most insulting, disgusting, and horrible words ever. He had been the one to make fun of you in front of everyone and make you feel insanely insecure. After all the things he did, why did he care? Maybe it was guilt eating him out, maybe he didn’t ever realize how much you were hurting, how much you were going through, until very now. But for some reason, he felt bad, he felt defeated, and he hated every second of it.

You were tired, exhausted by stress, crying and all the emotions. You were feeling nauseous. You wanted to drop down and pass out for hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries. You didn’t care, you just wanted to disappear, vanish. You were weak, too weak, but you still stood there, watching at young man in front of you, who was staring down at his shoes like a child who broke a vase, waiting for him to look up. Under any other circumstances it would be almost cute, but not now. Not when you were about to end your life, not when the boy in front of you was a boy who played a big part in your decision.

Silence was brutal. None of you saying a word, waiting for the other to speak up. Waiting for the other to say something, anything. You stood there, glaring at him like a mother glares at her son when she grounds him.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you broke the silence by chuckling. But it was not the funny type of chuckle. No, it was bitter, venomous, painful chuckle. Anyone would hear the pain in your voice, anyone would see the pain in your eyes, pain was the only thing that radiated from you. It always had been.

“That’s what I thought.” You said and sighed deeply, “Listen Malfoy, forget about everything, and I mean everything you heard and witnessed today. And don’t you dare say a word about this to anyone.” You said and walked past him and down the stairs, your shoulder brushing against his.

He still didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do. He knew he couldn’t tell anyone, anyway. This was the pureblood family you were talking about. Rules are different there. Finally, he shook himself out of his trance and walked down the steps, trying to be as quiet as possible, since it was already past curfew and the last thing he wanted was Filch catching him.

Slytherin common room was expectedly empty. He was positive he would fall into a deep sleep the moment his head would hit the pillow, but he couldn’t go to his dorm just yet. He was still thinking about what happened just few minutes ago. As much as he wanted to forget it, he couldn’t. Can you even imagine the pain they put me through? He could never have imagined that you were going through this much. Let me guess. No! You don’t! You can’t! Yes, he couldn’t. Has your father ever beat you until you were bleeding?! And here he thought his father was the most horrible person. Has your mother ever used Cruciatus curse on you?! He could never even think of his mother being that brutal. And that’s because of this whole pureblood supremacy shit! Because of the house you are put in! I am tired, tired of standing strong for 16 goddamn years! I deserve some break. You were right, you really did deserve some break.

He felt horrible, he felt disgusted by your parents, he felt bad for you. Oh, come on Draco! Why do you feel bad?! She probably deserves that.

His brain said all of this rubbish, but his heart seemed to disagree. It screamed loudly, louder than his brain, You pathetic little idiot! How can you say that?! No live being deserves that, not even a cockroach!

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize how he ended up on the emerald green couch in front of a lit fireplace. He dropped his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Taking deep breaths, he began to relax a little. He looked up and stared down at fire, warm and welcoming, yet roaring and dangerous. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. Maybe for few minutes, maybe even hours. But he didn’t care. All he could think of right now were you.

He didn’t know why he had a sudden urge to help you, he didn’t know why he had the sudden urge to just hold you until your sobs would calm down. He had never felt this way. It confused him. He never cared about you, but for some reason, hearing your cries made his heart shatter into many pieces. If it were any other person, he would feel sorry for them, he would pity them, but this was definitely not pity. This was… he didn’t know either. But it felt strange.

Standing up, he took one last deep breath and headed towards his dorm room, where he could finally get his long awaited sleep.

[lidiasloca]

you get caught up in george's mischief

george weasley x you

fluff

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

You loved George. You really did. Truly and madly. But sometimes, it was hard to love him. Just sometimes! And that is because he would often put you in the most embarrassing moments of your life with his mischief.

You could bear jokes among his family. You even had grown accustomed to his mother scolding him and Fred, which used to be uncomfortable in the beginning. And you even laughed when the mischief involved the whole family as the target. Hell, you very much appreciated that they didn’t prank you. 

George had been very adamant on that with his brother. He drew the line on you. That didn't mean he didn‘t make any jokes on you. But all of them were soft and lovely. “Apt for my Y/N,” he’d told you once. 

However, he was not so thoughtful to warn you before one of their jokes exploded in school. Sometimes even literally exploded. And that left you in the middle of a chaos.

“Miss. Y/N. Do you know anything of this,” professor Snape asked you accusingly. The twins had just flown around the great hall, throwing candy to everyone. Creating a bit of a mess of chaotic kids trying to take candy falling from the sky. 

You could only mumble shyly, “Nothing at all.”

But George and Fred were nowhere to be seen. And you knew what that meant for you. Snape raised an eyebrow, suspicion and accusation clear in his next words. “You’ll come with me nonetheless. You’ll tell me what you know.”

And you had to spend the following 40 minutes with angry Snape trying to get something out of you. Of course, George hadn’t had the courtesy to, not only warn you, but to make you know something about where they were.

“I don’t believe a word you are saying.” Snape was both exhausted and irritated. And the funny thing was, this was far from the first time he had to integrate you because of the twins. You knew the plan by memory, and though you wanted to scold George, you were exited by what came next.

“I’m telling you the truth. I know nothing.”

Snape run a hand though his face. It was odd being the only one to see him so… like this. It was also fun. “You-”

And an explosion. Contained and light. But a damn explosion. 

“What?” the professor barked, and turn to you before running to where the sound of the explosion came. “You stay here,” he commanded. But then he was gone, and you were most definitely not staying there. 

Sneaking out of the room was easy. Snape had left the door unlocked, so you only had to quietly walk an

You screamed instantly as unknown arms grabbed you from behind, one hand muffling your noise. 

“Stay quiet,” a voice whispered in your ear. George’s voice.

“G- gor- mhh,” you tried, but his grip on your mouth was tight. So you decided it was justified to kick his leg from behind as he kept you moving. 

“Ow! What was that for, sweetheart?” he asked, but once he realized he still had his hand enabling you to talk, he let go. “Oh - right, sorry,” he laughed.

“That,” you said weekly, trying to breathe properly again. “Was for trying to kidnap me-”

“I wasn’t-”

You hushed him. “And not only that. You are also responsible for Snape kidnapping me into interrogation. So two kidnappings in a day.”

“What a great day for you,” he smiled a dazzling smile. But you were not so happy.

“Why couldn’t you warn me, you stupid stupid-”

“Don’t say stupid again, please,” he pleaded playfully.

“Stupid.” You watch his face turn into a pout. “George, we had talked about this.” And when he hears your tone is serious, he stops playing. 

“I know. I know. And I’m sorry. After we got out flying, I looked for you. That was the plan, getting you out with me. But you were nowhere to be seen. Then Fred told me Snape had taken you. And well - this was the new plan.”

“An explosion?!”

“Well,” he replies grinning, as if proud of the idea. “It worked.”

You shake your head, not helping to return his grin. 

“Eeeh, so… you are not upset?” he asked, moving his eyebrows up and down in question.

You cocked your head to the side, watching joy show in his eyes. How could you be mad at him?

“You set an explosion to come and rescue me. How could I be anything but honored?”

He let out a laugh, carefree and contagious. 

“Exactly. What a gentleman that I am, huh?”

“Don't push it,” you remarked, trying to wipe that smug smirk. “You idiot…”

He takes a step to you, trying to intimidate you. “You are so mean, sweetheart.”

You chuckled, about to express your disagreement. But Snape has other plans.

“Mr. Wesley!” You both quickly turn to the professor's voice. “Miss. Y/N! Come here. Now. Both of you.”

George and you both turned to look at each other. And the new new plan was clear.

“Run!”

-Character by J K Rowling

yess im finally writing for george weasley im so happy, hope u like it. and i will be soon posting the harry potter masterlist :))

[dreamingofmarauders]

For My Eyes Only

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which you have a secret a certain Marauder wants to know, or more specifically, Sirius wants to get his hands on that diary you're always writing in.

Warnings: Parents divorcing, sad feelings but should be mainly fluff (also sort of, invasion of privacy? You'll see what I mean)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I literally just finished this but I really loved this idea, although I started this oneshot months back but I never got back to it, due to which I forgot what the original plot was but I wrote this and I love it! I hope you like it too! Enjoy! <33

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

“Why does L/n always have that book with her?” Sirius questioned one late autumn evening, as he sat with the boys who were all in sixth year now.

“Who?” Peter questioned clueless.

“L/n.” Sirius said, pointing across the room at you. You were too lost writing into your diary that you didn’t realize the four biggest mischievous boys at Hogwarts were talking about none other than you. Sirius had noticed that since the beginning of the school year, you always wrote in your journal in the evenings.

“Leave Y/n be, Padfoot.” Remus commented, “Let Y/n be at peace.”

“Hey, I was just curious, that’s all!” Sirius exclaimed, appalled.

Remus rolled his eyes, “And we all know how that goes.” This earned a deep chuckle from James, making Sirius glare at him.

“Shut up.”

Sirius returned his gaze to you, watching you scribble into your diary with a fond smile. He knew you through Lily Evans and you two were sort of friends, but as he gazed at you writing away in that y/f/c journal, he knew that he wouldn’t rest until he got his hands on it. After all, once Sirius Black was intrigued, he was unstoppable.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You were writing away in your diary, pouring out all your heart. The happy things, the sad things, the in between things. That is until you felt a shadow loom over you, and you hastily snapped your diary shut and turned around. Sirius groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat, as he was not able to get a glance of the page, before he masked that behind his confidence.

"Hey there, L/n. What are you writing in that little thing?"

You felt your cheeks heat up before you cleared your throat, standing up with an air of determination.

"That Sirius is for my eyes only, and not your business." You gave him a sweet smile and walked away, leaving Sirius gazing after your retreating figure.

"Run all you want Y/n but you can't escape me."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You flinched at the new voice, cheeks warming as the words registered in your head. You turned to find Sirius sitting beside you, his hand cradling his chin as he winked at you.

“You wouldn’t mind having me as your Potions partner, would you, darling?”

You blinked owlishly, your heart fluttering at the name. “Why me, Sirius?”

Sirius let out a loud and dramatic sigh, “Well you see dearest Y/n, Remus is mad at me for eating his chocolate.” Your gaze flickered to the desk behind you, the said boy clenching his jaw as he glared at Sirius. “And James has already partnered with Peter, on purpose too, I really hate him sometimes.” He muttered the last part as you turned to look at the back of the class, where James and Peter were seated together, James sticking his tongue out at his best mate to which Sirius flipped him off.

“So that leaves me to sit with you. Plus you’re a intelligent and pretty girl.” Sirius finished, watching as you blushed.

“Oh- Oh, I see.” You answered, eyes flying to the chalkboard as Slughorn began to speak, for which you were thankful for as anymore of Sirius’ teasing and your soul would leave your body.

Once the Potions Master had explained the lesson for the day, the class got to their feet as they were to prepare a potion.

“I’ll got get the ingredients while you set up the cauldron.” You instructed, giving Sirius a gentle smile before walking away.

Sirius, with a sly grin playing on his lips, swiftly set up the cauldron, before slipping his hand into your bag. Once he found what he was looking for, he glanced your way and when he was sure you were still busy, Sirius cast alohomora on the lock and flipped open the journal to a random page.

Dear Diary,

I feel so hollow and empty. My parents are divorcing and worst of all, I have to live with my mother. She did love me once but ever since we all found out I was a witch, she’s changed. My father's love never wavered and I really want to live with him but on his own, he can barely keep himself up financially, and I can’t burden him with myself. Even though I recently got a job, it won’t be much help.

I return to school soon so with that I can at least breathe a sigh of relief, but I can’t burden Lily and the girls with my problems either but at least I’ll be happy for the time being.

Until next time.

Love,

Y/n

Sirius felt his heart twist. You seemed to be such a great person and yet you were hiding so much behind that warm smile of yours. Sirius quickly locked the diary and closed your bag, straightening just in time for you to return to him.

“Here we are.” You stated, setting the supplies down on the table in front of the pair of you. “Shall we start?” You gently asked, although cocking your head slightly to the side when Sirius didn’t respond but was merely staring at you.

“Sirius?”

He shook his head slowly. “Hm, yeah, let’s start.”

Throughout the rest of the lesson, Sirius would gaze at you in thought from time to time, and his stomach twisted with small guilt for having read through your diary when it truly was private. But that incident merely intrigued the boy more about you.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Sirius found himself thinking more about you over the next while, and knowing what you were going through, he began to spend more time with you. After all, he understood what it was like to not receive love from your own, and to be treated differently for not being like everyone else.

At first you had found it suspicious, just like you had in potions the other day, after all you had caught Sirius trying to read your personal diary before then. However you later on realized that Sirius was just trying to spend time with you, even if you were a bit baffled to as to why, because while the two of you were sort of friends, the pair of you had never spent much time together, so this was very new. But you went along with it, finding the time with Sirius enjoyable.

Sirius tried his best to make you laugh, relishing in the feeling when he heard your beautiful laughter, or smirking at you whenever he managed to make you blush with one of his pet names. However, it was that beautiful and captivating smile of yours that made him feel that his heart had stopped beating.

Merlin, what had started out as an attempt to read your diary after his curiosity had been piqued, led to Sirius being absolutely smitten with the beauty called Y/n L/n.

One late evening, after running away from Filch and having evaded detention, Sirius entered the common room only to find you fast asleep on the couch. His lips turned upwards at the sight and he walked over to your sleeping form, bending down in front of the couch as he admired you.

Realizing you had fallen asleep while attempting to complete a school assignment, Sirius very gently shook you by the shoulder, wanting you to sleep well in your bed rather than the couch whilst surrounded by your school textbooks and parchments and quills.

Your eyelids fluttered open at last, y/e/c coloured eyes flitting about as you blinked a few times, before your gaze landed on Sirius and it softened.

“Sirius?”

“It’s me, love.” He answered, stroking your hair, “I hate waking you up but I’d rather you go sleep in your bed, darling.” He told you, a very warm expression sitting upon his face.

You softly smiled, nodding as you lightly squeezed his hand in gratitude before standing up and trying to gather your things as quick as possible. Once done, you turned to Sirius and shot him your warm smile once again.

“Goodnight, Sirius.”

He returned the gesture.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

You turned on your heels and began your ascension up the stairs leading to your dormitory. Sirius watched you go before he made a move to leave. However, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye and he halted.

There, lying tucked into one corner, was your diary.

Sirius glanced back at the stairs of the girls dormitory, before his grey eyes flickered back to the journal.

He knew he shouldn’t but now he wanted to make sure if you were doing better.

So, letting his curiosity win over his guilt, Sirius once again, broke through your lock and flipped open onto your last diary entry. Nothing could have prepared the young Black for what he was about to read.

Dear Diary,

Things have been better but also sort of… weird? The good news is that perhaps I can move in with my father for when I return home for the summer.

Then there’s also Sirius.

He’s so sweet and kind, and although the flirting is constant, he makes me smile and I feel so happy around him.

At that, Sirius smiled to himself, glad he could brighten your days.

But, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I think I’m going mad. Sirius Black may as well be the death of me. He makes me feel things I shouldn’t. He smiles at me, my stomach erupts with butterflies. He laughs, my heart flutters. He gives me a cheeky wink, I go weak in the knees. He licks his lips and I can’t help but imagine how they would taste.

Oh Merlin, help me, I feel something that’s more than friends for Sirius and it’s driving me insane. I can’t afford to ruin everything with my feelings, I don’t want to lose our friendship but my heart is making everything so much more hard.

Oh Godric, help me.

I’ll write again if Sirius’ charm doesn’t claim my life before that.

Love,

Y/n

Sirius stared at the page in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he had just read. These were words written by you about how you felt regarding him. Sirius could not understand how such an amazing girl like yourself could feel about him like this.

Footsteps began to echo around the common room and in a panic, Sirius snapped shut the diary, head turning in time to find you walking back down the stairs.

When you had gone up to your dormitory, after rummaging through your bag, you came to the realization that you had left your diary back in the common room. What you had not expected was to find Sirius in the common room with your diary in his hand.

“Sirius?”

“Y/n.” He said, standing up. He watched you walk over to him, a nervousness setting onto your face.

“I left something here so-“

You cut off as Sirius wordlessly lifted his hand, holding your diary out which you gently took from him.

“Thank you.”

You made a move to leave but Sirius caught your wrist, freezing you on the spot.

“Tell me it’s not true.” He said, making you turn around with slightly rounded eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me that what you wrote in your diary isn’t true. Tell me you don’t feel more for me than just friends.”

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Sirius, I…” You sighed, “I can’t.” You uttered out, watching Sirius’ eyes widen. “I can’t lie to you. You make me feel so special and-“

You cut off as Sirius placed his lips on yours, pulling you close to himself by your waist. Your grip on your diary slackened and it fell to the floor with a thud, as your arms went to wrap themselves around his neck.

It was just as you had imagined but even better and it was just you and him, and it was just perfect.

You both finally pulled apart after minutes, panting as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Go out with me?” Sirius asked, icy grey eyes gazing lovingly into yours. Sirius melted upon seeing the biggest smile grace your lips at that question.

“Of course.” You replied before Sirius pulled you in for another kiss.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Dear Diary,

It's crazy really that a few years have passed since I graduated out of Hogwarts with my best friends, we all have our own jobs and lives now, but what's even crazier is that I'm finally married!

Never would I have thought that one day I would be in love and happily married to Sirius Black. If someone had told my younger self that, I would have laughed at them.

The ceremony was today, a perfect day too with the sun shining down, a slight breeze, the bird chirping as Sirius and I exchanged our vows in the presence of our friends and family. I couldn't be happier.

You felt an arm wrap around your waist as someone placed their chin on your shoulder.

"What's my darling wife doing?"

You smiled at that.

Wife.

You were officially Sirius' wife.

The thought made you giddy.

"Ah." Sirius clicked his tongue, "You're writing in your diary."

You didn't reply but instead resumed scribbling on the page.

I'd love to write more but I'm afraid my very annoying husband is disrupting-

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed in mock offence, "Since when did I become annoying?" He paused, a sly grin sliding onto his lips, "You don't complain when I'm giving you a kiss or more." He said, earning an eye roll from you but even Sirius could feel that you were merely hiding a smile.

I'd love to write more but I'm afraid my very annoying charming husband is disrupting, I believe he wants to go to bed, it's been a long day after all, but a day I would love to relive everyday if I could.

Love,

Y/n Black

"I still can't believe you took my last name."

You closed your diary, putting it away before turning around in Sirius' arms, your arms going to lock behind his neck.

"Of course I would." You lovingly answered, gazing at him with adoration, "It's a part of your identity and I would love nothing more than to be called Mrs. Black." You told him, placing a kiss on his cheek before looking back into his eyes.

Sirius looked at you with such love and tenderness that you melted.

"I love you so much, Mrs. Black."

Your lips turned up into a graceful yet enchanting smile.

"I love you too, Mr. Black."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[sunshinelollipopsicle]

Midnight Mischief

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - harry potter x fem!reader

♡ summary - you and harry sneak into the kitchens for a late night snack, ending up having a flour fight with the house elves joining

♡ warnings - fluff

♡ w/c - 0.8k

♡ a/n - my coffee is working wonders rn its three in the morning

The halls of Hogwarts were eerily quiet as you tiptoed through the castle, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. You were a good student, so it was rare for you to disobey rules. The moonlight streamed through the high windows, casting a silvery glow on the stone walls. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was following before continuing your way to the kitchens.

Harry had convinced you that a midnight snack was the perfect way to end a long day of studying. With exams approaching, you two plus Hermione and Ron have been spending most of your time studying, much to the boys dismay. You could still hear his whispered invitation in your ear before you all parted ways from the library. "Meet me by the portrait of the fruit at midnight," he'd said, a grin spreading across his face.

Now, as you approached the painting, you reached out and tickled the pear. It giggled and transformed into a door handle. With a soft creak, you opened the door and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind you.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from the glowing embers of the hearth. You spotted Harry at a large wooden table, already piling a plate high with pastries and sweets. He looked up and smiled as you entered, his green eyes bright with excitement.

"You made it," he whispered, waving you over. "I wasn't sure if you'd actually come."

You chuckled softly, joining him at the table. "I couldn't resist. This is definitely more fun than revising for our exams. Seems like you've kept yourself occupied," you nod at his plate.

Harry handed you a warm pastry, "What can I say, I'm a hungry guy," he winks at you.

You roll your eyes and take a bite, nodding in approval of the taste. "This is very tasty," you note. "We should do this more often, it gets boring sitting in bed at night sometimes."

He grinned, grabbing a handful of flour from a nearby bag. "I have an idea to make it even more fun."

Before you could react, he tossed the flour that was left on the table at you, a cloud of white powder enveloping you both. You gasped, laughing as you brushed the flour from your face. "Oh, you're going to regret that, Potter."

You grabbed a handful of flour and flung it at him, hitting him square in the chest. His jaw drops, but his eyes sparkle with delight. "It's on now."

The next few minutes were a blur of flour and laughter as you chased each other around the kitchen, both of you covered in a fine layer of white powder. The house-elves, initially startled, quickly joined in the fun.

"Miss and Mister are making a mess!" squeaked one of the elves, a broad grin on his face.

"Flour fight! Flour fight!" another elf chimed in, dancing around with a handful of flour ready to throw.

You couldn't help but beam at their enthusiasm. "Alright, you asked for it!" you called out, playfully tossing a handful of flour at the nearest elf, who squealed with joy.

Harry managed to be a target to several of the elves. "You lot are pretty good at this," he compliments, grinning.

"Harry Potter is kind to the house-elves," one of them said, beaming up at him. "We are happy to play!"

The kitchen was a mess, but that wasn't a concern anyone had. Harry finally managed to corner you by the hearth, both of you breathless, leaning onto the wall. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of flour-covered hair from your face.

"You look like a ghost," he teased, his voice warm.

You rolled your eyes, "You don't look much better."

He pecked you cheek, "This was a good idea. I'm glad you came."

"Me too," you whispered.

Harry's hand came up and he held out his pinky. "Let's make a promise," he said, his eyes sincere.

"What's that?" you asked, curiosity in your tone.

"That we'll always find time for moments like this, no matter how bad times here get."

You nodded, "I promise."

You two then moved and started cleaning up the kitchen with the help of the elves, who were more than happy to pitch in. When everything was back to normal, you turned to the elves, who were still beaming with joy.

"Thank you for letting us have fun here," you said, giving them a warm smile. "We'll try not to make such a mess next time."

One of the elves, a tiny one with large, expressive eyes, stepped forward. "You are always welcome here, Miss and Mister. It was a pleasure to play with you!"

Harry chuckled, giving a small bow, pulling you down with him. "The pleasure was ours. Goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight, Harry Potter! Goodnight, Miss!" the elves chorused, waving their little hands.

As you and Harry slipped back out into the quiet halls, a sense of contentment washed over you. Walking side by side, your hands brushed against each other, and without thinking, you intertwined your fingers with his, dramatically swinging your arms as you walked back.

About to depart, he turns to you, "Until next time?" he asked.

"Definitely," you replied.

[moonstruckme]

you did the james x hufflepuff prank story so good. BUT i think what would be so iconic is the reverse. IF a slytherin reader got tired of james and the gang's shenanigans against the slytherins and decides to get revenge which maybe goes a bit wrong?? i live for a little enemies to lovers haha!

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: alcohol, spiked drinks

James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 1.4k words

You’d thought the only downside of your prank was that you wouldn’t get to see it happen. The best you could hope for was an overheard conversation in class about how the marauders had gotten drunk on the firewhiskey Sirius kept stored under his bed and had somehow ended up naked in the forbidden forest trying to befriend the faeries or something like that. 

You certainly hadn’t expected James Potter to come knocking at the door to the Slytherin common room at nearly one in the morning. 

Your scowl is immediate upon seeing him, more instinct than anything, but you're surprised that he almost matches it. James’ eyes are fierce, his hair in disarray and his lips downturned. He’s breathing hard like he’s run all the way here. 

You raise a brow. “Can I help you?”

“One—” he pants. “One of you tampered with our alcohol. I need—need to know who.” He starts to push the door open, but you stop it with your foot. “Let me in.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” you say coolly, though you’re more than a little alarmed by the grim set of the Gryffindor captain’s features. You don’t know James very well, but you’ve seen enough of him over the years to know that his geniality is usually unshakeable. Has a taste of his own medicine really gotten him this riled? “What’s happened to your alcohol, Potter, and why do you assume someone in Slytherin is responsible?” 

James huffs. “I don’t know what’s happened to my alcohol. All I know is that I’ve got fifth-years in the common room flapping their arms and saying they’re going to join a dragon colony, and I need to know if there’s an antidote to give them.” He seems to anger with every word. His eyes narrow on you, and you never would have thought to find James Potter intimidating, but you’re something close to intimidated now. Your stomach does a little flip. “And when an entire party of Gryffindors gets roofied the night before our quidditch match with Slytherin, I’m bound to make some assumptions.” 

“Take me to them.”

“What?”

“I might be able to help,” you say, forcing your shoulders back and your chin up a notch. “I’m good at potions, and it could take forever to track down the person who drugged your alcohol. Let me try to figure it out.” 

James shakes his head at you, straightening his glasses. “I don’t have time to mess around.” 

“I can tell.” You slide out of the opening in the door, shutting it behind you before James can think to dash through. “But I think I’m your best shot.” You start towards the Gryffindor rooms, hoping he’ll follow. 

He does, jogging to catch up to your brisk strides. You don’t like the idea of wasting time any more than James does. Your prank was supposed to be contained, a little joke to get back at the small group of Gryffindor boys for their endless volley of pranks against your house. You were supposed to have the gratification of knowing you’d made fools of the marauders for one night, not roofie an entire party of innocent students. Well, Gryffindors. But still. 

“How did you not end up drugged?” you ask as you walk. 

“Quidditch match tomorrow,” James replies simply. “I didn’t want a hangover. Not,” he adds, “that I’ve ever had a hangover. I’m Head Boy; any drinking that happens in Gryffindor house is, of course, without my knowledge or participation.” 

You have to bite back a small smile. “Of course.” 

He murmurs the password to the fat lady as you approach, and you ignore the judgemental look she passes over your green robes as she swings aside, begrudgingly allowing you entry. 

Your guilt increases tenfold at the scene in the common room. 

Lily Evans has posted herself by the door, turning back students vying for exit. There is indeed a group of fifth-years waving their arms about and looking out the windows as if they’d take to the skies, and half of the Gryffindor quidditch team looks to be trying to start a match indoors. 

James takes your hand when you linger too long by the entryway, tugging you through the crowd. You stop at a small table, where the empty bottle of firewhisky sits next to a giant bowl where they’ve apparently mixed it with coca cola or something. You lean down over the bowl, sniffing cautiously like you imagine you would if you didn’t know what it was. Thankfully, one ingredient has left a scent. 

“Scurvy grass,” you say to James, straightening. “It’s the main ingredient in befuddlement draught.” 

“S’exactly what I said,” Remus Lupin comments from the couch, seemingly speaking to a pillow he’s got in his lap. “We’ve all got scurvy.”

James ignores his friend, raising his eyebrows at you. “That was quick. Is there an antidote?” 

You frown, letting the very real regret you’re feeling show in your expression. “None that I know of,” you reply. “It’s like alcohol, it just fades with time.” 

James looks around the room worriedly. “How much time?”

You shake your head. “Not likely soon enough. Your best bet is getting everyone to bed. They’ll sleep it off.” 

James takes a deep breath. “Alright, I can do that. Evans!” he calls, getting the Head Girl’s attention. “We’re to put them to bed.” 

Lily nods, gathering a few girls from around her and herding them upstairs. James heads for the fifth-years, blabbering something about how dragons need rest to keep their fire hot. You don’t think that’s true, but the students start moving nonetheless, James keeping them going with words of encouragement each time they try to turn back. 

“Could you just stay by the door?” he asks you as he follows them upstairs. “Make sure nobody leaves.” 

You nod, posting yourself by the entryway and telling anyone that comes close to go to bed. Your persuasive skills aren’t up to par with James or Lily’s, but eventually they get everyone to their rooms, and James is the only one who comes back down the stairs. 

He rubs harshly at his eyes, disrupting his glasses, and begins to clean up the mess of the party. You join him, gathering discarded cups and setting up a pile of left items (shoes and wands and even a pair of pants) by the fireplace. 

“If you’re still worried about the match,” you say after awhile, “everyone should be fine by tomorrow morning. The effects of befuddlement draught don’t usually last for more than a few hours, and sleeping will help.” 

“You seem somewhat of an expert on befuddlement draught,” James says lightly.

You flush, bending to pick up another cup. “It was on the OWLs. I studied hard.” 

He hums noncommittally. “Well, I appreciate you coming to help clean up your own mess.” 

You look at him, an inquiry as to what he could possibly mean already forming on your tongue, but the look on James’ face stops you. He knows. “It was only supposed to be you,” you say. “It was Black’s firewhiskey, I thought it would just be him, you, and maybe Lupin drinking it. I didn’t think you would share.” 

James actually laughs at that. “Yes, sharing! How ridiculous of us.” 

You huff, despising him for the shame twisting in your gut. “I’m just trying to tell you that it wasn’t my intention to spike the drinks of all of Gryffindor.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe if you didn’t distribute your alcohol, these things wouldn’t happen.” 

James crosses his arms. “As I’ve said, I would personally never distribute alcohol or endorse underage drinking. But it seems that, whatever may or may not have happened tonight involved a series of unfortunate accidents, which could have been avoided if several parties had been more responsible.” 

You bristle at the veiled scolding. Frankly, James implicating himself as partially responsible for the night’s events doesn’t do much to alleviate your guilt either. He’s gone soft on you, the panic that had fueled his earlier breach in character worn away, and he’s back to his lighthearted, irritatingly nice self. 

You can’t look at it, and you roll your eyes as you turn away, tossing the last cup into the trash bin on your way to the door. “See you at the match tomorrow, Potter.” 

You can practically feel the warmth of his smile at your back. “See you there. And I’ll be keeping an eye on my drinks in the future, so don’t get it in your head to try it again!”

Oh, James can rest easy. You won’t.

[maremartinelli]

GERONIMO'S CADILLAC

Sírius Black X fem!Reader!

Summary: By day, they're just members of the marauders and great old friends, but by night, she's the woman of his dreams.

Words: 1K+

Warnings: Secret couple, Remus not liking women, Jilly, sweet, cute and Sirius in love with his wife.

Author: Always saying that English is not my first language, I apologize if there are errors throughout the story. Second, this story is 'based' on a song that I LOVE. I'll leave it here at the end!!

MASTERLIST

I want to share my dreams

Want to share with you

On the wings of love

Like dreamers do.

Y/n and Sirius were so in love it made their hearts hurt.

The feelings were shared on a cold autumn afternoon, in the 5th year of Hogwarts. What developed into love and dating.

However, no one knew that one belonged to the other. Even though they had been 'best friends' for years, outgoing, and lively. They were still afraid to tell the public about their relationship.

It wasn't a problem with the rogues or the girls Lily, Marlene, Dorcas and Mary either. Black and Y/n knew they would react well, but now, after so long, neither of them knew anyone else's reaction anymore.

Since they had been going out in secret for a year and a half.

"It would be cool if we all married into the group. Then I wouldn't have to add anyone else to the group. I don't like outsiders" James says, while sitting on the couch near the fireplace with an arm around Lily's shoulder - your girlfriend.

It was just them in the common room at that time. Lily, James, Sirius, Y/n, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Remus and Peter. Everyone making small talk, after a whole week of studying and working at Hogwarts.

Y/n, who was sitting on the other sofa, with her back resting on Remus and her legs on Sirius' lap, laughed at her friend's comment.

"What happened, it's true. We could join now" he said indirectly. "You could have Remus or Sirius, look, it's between the two."

Sirius quickly looks up from Y/n's feet to his best friend, Y/n surreptitiously looks at Sirius and Remus doesn't care, he just laughs.

He knew James wasn't cool with ideas sometimes.

"Or I can have both of them" Y/n jokes, making everyone in the circle laugh.

"Thanks for the offer, but we like the same thing" Remus says, patting Y/n on the head, which makes them laugh again.

"Good, all mine then" Sirius says and pulls Y/n's legs, making her fall from Remus' lap onto the sofa, making her startle and laugh.

They roll their eyes smiling too.

It was common for Sirius and Y/n to flirt with each other, so no one suspected anything about what they had in secret.

Dawn had fallen, and everyone had gone up to their dormitories. Except for Y/n and Sirius, who volunteered to organize things in the common room, which they and their friends had messed up.

So, after noticing that everyone had gone upstairs, Sirius approaches Y/n from behind, putting his arms around the girl's waist and resting her chin on her shoulder.

“I thought they would never come up again” he whispers in her ear, making Y/n have goosebumps.

She smiles as she throws the pillow on the couch and turns to Sirius.

“I was about to send them all away” she laughs. "In truth"

Sirius smiles and then pulls her into a sweet, passionate kiss.

"Do you want to stop by the kitchen? Steal some goodies from tomorrow's breakfast" Black waggles his eyebrows up and down repeatedly.

Y/n's eyes widen in joy.

"Clear!!" She says in a second and then Sirius pulls her hand gently, leaving the common room.

Oh, we are daytime friends

And nighttime fools.

"Lily, can you reach those scissors please?" Y/n says, while doing herbology work with her best friend, in the Gryffindor common room.

Lily hands it over and smiles friendly.

They were relaxed in their conversation, they didn't even see the boys passing through the communal door.

"Hey, girls," James says friendly, and then comes around the table to kiss Lily.

Sirius wanted to do the same to Y/n, but he knew he couldn't in the public eye.

"Hi, prongs" Y/n smiles at her friend and then looks back to see the rest of the group. "Hey, Moony, Pete, Pads"

Moony and Peter greet her and Lily, and sit around the table to show off what they bought in Hogsmeade.

"Hi, doll" Sirius whispers to Y/n and discreetly kisses her cheek.

Luckily, no one had seen it.

"Why didn't they tell me they were going to Hogsmeade? I was wanting to go, I had seen a beautiful boot in a store window the other day and I wanted to buy it" Y/n says, while cutting out the last piece of paper to paste at work.

"We went after training, we couldn't tell you. But we can go tomorrow, if you want" Remus says softly and Y/n shakes her head smiling.

"Okay"

"I'm going up, put my things away. I'll be back soon" Sirius gets up and walks quickly to the dormitory stairs and everyone nods their heads and starts talking again.

That same afternoon, Y/n arrived at the dorm and saw that there was a large box on the bed, with a mysterious note, which was not for her, as she recognized the handwriting and the written words.

Marlene and Lily, who shared the same dorm with the girl, went crazy with the gift that their friend had received from her mysterious crush.

When night fell, Y/n put on the boots she had been given and went to the astronomy tower.

"It was you, right?" Y/n says, when she meets Sirius in the tower and refers to the boots on her feet.

Sirius smiles and approaches his girlfriend, placing his hands on her hips.

"What do you think?"

"Thank you, life." Y/n kisses Sirius in thanks. "These were exactly the ones I was looking at in the window"

"I know" he says, still smiling. "I observe my girl and her desires" Black pulls her in for another kiss. "By the way, I bought myself a pair. We can hang out as a secret cheesy couple."

When looking at her boyfriend's feet, she sees that Sirius had exactly the same boots as her. What differed was that the number was bigger and his pair was black, hers white.

Y/n smiles and then looks at Sirius again. Pulling in for a loving hug.

Author: Who has never been in love with their friend?? It's not really... (😭😭)

[leaawrites]

Shower Secret

Oliver Wood x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Words: 0,7k

Warnings: making out, indication of sex, Harry getting pushed off his broom(?), indication of nudity, grammar mistakes (maybe? English isn't my first language)

Materlist

There wouldn't be any reason to keep the relationship between a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff a secret. If the Hufflepuff wasn't the shame of an all Slytherin family. So, Oliver Wood had to keep his relationship extra secret with the outsider girl.

With her reputation and the things that happened to her, Y/n couldn't be less worth to her parents. But with You-know-who being out and about, even her dissapointed parents didn't want her to get into it too much. So they kept an eye on her and made sure someone always watched what she was doing. If her parents found out she was dating some gryffindor, y/n didn't want to challenge someone and guess what they would do to Oliver.

After the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Oliver let himself ignore everyone that tried to come near him. That also counted for her.

When Y/n tried to make him talk to her, he only pushed her off and walked past her into a direction she couldn't see from the people that were running in her vision.

Harry was just being thrown off his broom by a dementor and now everyone needed to know what was going on with him, immediatly.

Y/n made her way to the Hospital Wing, pushing past the people who gave her dirty looks in the process or even yelling at her to get out. Fred and George apeared at the door, wanting to tell the others off when their eyes found Y/n's e/c one's.

"He's in the washingrooms," George called out to her, knowing who she truly cared for more.

Y/n rolled her eyes when she had to push past the ever growing crowed again. She made her way to the washingrooms, ignoring the eyes she felt on her as she past through the halls of Hogwarts.

The air was cold and in the process of almost freezing to death (or at least feeling like she will), Y/n opened the door without knocking. No one else was in there without Oliver.

"Olli?" She called out for him. The water stopped spilling and Y/n could hear the defeated and disappointed sigh leaving hef boyfriend's lips.

"Go away," He told her. "I'm not in the mood to talk about what happened."

Y/n slowly stripped off her shirt and trousers, only left in her underware, when she heard the shower being turned on again. She opened the shower curtain that hit Oliver and peeked inside. Oliver was leaning with his head against the wall, his eyes not darting in her direction, but instead they were focused on the crowd.

"We still lost," He said. "It's so unfair. Harry should've just got that snitch and then we would've won and still have a chance for the Quidditch cup."

Y/n touched his spine with her nose, leaning into his body. "You know it's not that easy. You know that better than anyone. And you still have a chance on the Quidditch Cup." She argued.

"But-" He stopped, not knowing what he wanted to argue himself.

"It's gonna be alright," She assured him, making him sigh again, but this time in relief. He always had someone who supported him. He knew that now better than ever.

"What if someone walks in?"

Y/n thought for a minute, would her answer scare him off? "I don't care," she whispered, kissing just below his ear and leaving small pecks down his neck. "They will probably out before noticing who it is anyway." Both laughed at that.

Oliver turned around, his hands holding her hips, while hers laid on his chest, drawing small shapes on his skin. "You make me go crazy."

"Oh yeah?" She asks teasingly, her toungue pulled between her teeth.

"Extremly." He kisses her, deeply devouring the taste of her lips. "I actually just train this hard for Quidditch to impress you." He breaks the kiss.

"Liar." Y/n answers without hesitation.

"I've got caught," He inhales sharply as her hands traveled lower with each word he spoke.

"You make me go crazy as well," She answeres, pulling him into another hot kiss.

The steam of the shower made the tension between them grow more lustful.

"Do you wanna continue this here or somewhere more private?" Y/n asked, pulling away and almost slipping from the water under her feet. Oliver held her steady and laughed as she straightend up again. "And not so slippery," She added.