#harry potter is serious business

[calimera62]

Grindeldore + text post meme

[naehja]

one sad thing

It isn't sad that the marauders, after have totally accepted Remus for what he was, decided that he'll always be a friend even if he was a werewolf, showed him that he didn't fear him, becoming animagus to be able to stay with him during the full moon, and support him until the end....

....well, some years later, without any good reasons; Sirius and James have decided that Remus was not enough reliable to be the secret keeper, didn't trust him enough to ask him to be the secret keeper, thought that he was the traitor...

...because he was a werewolf. When they had made clear to Remus that it didn't matter for them that he's one. That they would never judge him for what he was, for something that wasn't his fault.. 

Suddently there are a traitor in the order and James and Sirius suspect the only werewolf, their FRIEND, to be this traitor.

[ectoheart]

POV: You just interrupted some serious business between Head Auror Harry Potter and second-in-command Draco Malfoy

[queers-gambit]

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

prompt: ( requested ) basking in the sunshine, breathing fresh air, bare skin tickled by tall grass, and Felix, who can't focus on the Half Blood Prince when his girl's got his full blooded attention.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 2.3k+

note: i wrote this in an hour 'cause, you know, brainrot.

warnings: slight request variation (you'll see), there's probably cursing. anyways, suggestive language, no real spoilers, slight Ollie slander, college kids doing drugs, and no HP spoilers for those who haven't read.

All you could smell was his expensive cologne, barely breaking a sweat under the summer sun as he remained wrapped around you like a child did their mother on the first day of school. You were never one for suffocating affection nor clingy behavior, something leftover from childhood, but with your boyfriend, you craved it; and he knew it. He took advantage of it.

"Are you even listening or are you too busy trying to identify the smell of my shampoo?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, 'M listenin', love, uh, you know, something about... Harry doing something stupid, yeah?"

You snorted lightly, head tilting back to look up at your boyfriend's amused expression. "A lucky guess - 'cause Harry's always doing some dumb shit."

"Yeah, you know, there's a reason he wasn't considered for Ravenclaw."

"Don't be mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses," you gently reprimanded. "So he's not the smartest guy ever, but he's brave as hell, isn't he?"

"Has to be, being a Gryffindor and all."

"I doubt we would've done half this shit at 16."

"Totally right, we had other worries - like our first pregnancy scare."

"Felix!"

"What, doll face? Huh? C'mon, what's the quote? I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

"Oh, you absolute cheesy fuck!"

His laugh could've echoed across the field, the two of you laid out on an oversized blanket; crushing the long grass surrounding his home, Saltburn. 'Home' always felt so mundane when describing the freaking castle his family inhabited; after all, his father, Sir James, was literally knighted - making the Cattons feel larger than life. You'd known the family for over a decade now, meeting Venetia on your first day of school when a rude boy smacked your lunch tray right out of your hands, being inducted to their family almost straight away.

As it turned out, your mother and father were friendly with Sir James and his wife, Elspeth Catton, and after only a month in your new town, you were invited to Saltburn for a family meal.

It became a monthly occurrence.

And when you started dating Felix when you were both 15, it was like life was simply alining with the stars. Destiny being fulfilled. Fate smiling on you both.

Your parents tried to play off the relationship, but after you turned 16, they realized how serious you two seemed about each other. And when you both decided to attend Oxford together (rejecting your father's alma mater, the University of Edinburgh), your mother made constant jibes about your wedding. At first, it was just a few, little, sometimes funny, but mostly harmless comments here and there, and then it escalated to full-on conversations between your mothers.

Like they had flowers and color scheme picked out, deciding on hosting at Saltburn, even debating wedding dress ideas! Your mother wanted something lacy, Elspeth wanted something form fitting and "sexy" - being where their opinions clashed and the conversation elevated to near arguments.

Anyways, laying on the blanket in the field, alone, became a regular occurrence for you and Felix once you realized the absolute HOLD the Harry Potter series had on you both. Where the brother and sister had matching HP star tattoos on their hands, that had convinced you to get a set of three stars - your only tattoo, nestled behind your left ear. Venetia technically got you into the series, letting you borrow the first book, and then gifting you each book once published; but it was more like a "tradition" to read them with Felix.

See, when you were younger, you had a stutter that made you wildly insecure, but reading out loud helped you work through it. Was it a perfect system? Of course not, but your boyfriend was adamant that it'd help - and eventually, it did. So much so, you received top marks in each of your public speaking or debate classes, something the Catton's still praised you over.

Felix liked listening, and the times you got a little tongue-tied and frustrated, he would take over to let you a small reprieve. Today was no different, laid in the field, the grass tickling your bare feet and calves as the sun soaked into your bare skin. Either of you only wore a pair of sunglasses, Felix sat up on his elbow to support your body laid against his; his fingers dancing light patterns over whatever body part he could reach. Currently, it was your hip.

He laid quick kisses where he could, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, used his teeth to nibble your flesh. Anything to make you trip over your words, like the little shit he was.

You felt your breathing shift when Felix's lips and tongue ghosted up your neck, sweeping stray strands of hair from your shoulder before his fingertips were ghosting over your collarbone and down your chest to tweak your nipple. The cold of his bracelets and watch on your sticky skin felt like a drastic contrast to the warmth of the day.

"You're infuriating, I'm trying to read," you scolded, swatting his hand away; but smirking in amusement that assured him you weren't truly annoyed.

"Roll over, sweetheart, I needa rest my arm," he muttered in your ear, licking the shell - making you squirm with a small giggle.

"Can you behave? For once?"

"How can I? When you look like this? I mean, Goddamn, I really got the prettiest girl, don't I?" He smirked, watching you lift off his chest to roll onto your stomach; perched on your elbows. "Now, that's a sight, might be my favorite," he grinned, bringing his hand down to smack one of your arse cheeks - palming the flesh tightly, giving a jiggle for his amusement.

"Felix!" You squealed, fully anticipating this treatment; trying to hide your full-teeth grin.

"C'mon, love, let's get a bit naughty," he teased. "Oliver doesn't get here for another two days, we're not gonna be alone much longer."

You scoffed lightly, "You're the one who had to befriend The Clinger."

"Oi, c'mon now, tellin' me t'be nice about Harry? Don't call him that, love, he's just a lonely chap. Needs a friend."

You hummed, readjusting the book under you. "He's a bit creepy, Fi," you admit. "I mean, he stares - like a lot. And remember I told you, I saw him looking through your dorm window that one night?"

He sighed, "He was just drunk, love, we've been over this."

"You're so quick to excuse him," you noted, offering him a bewildered look as he readjusted to lean over your back. His head nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting a hand pet down the slope of your spine; forcing a small tremor through your muscles.

"He's got no one else."

"Doesn't mean he needs you, my sweet boy. Honestly, you stretch yourself too thin. Maybe if you focused less on these so-called friends and more on your studies...?"

"I appreciate the worry, babygirl," he mused, laying three kisses to your shoulders, "but it's all right, got you quizzing me nightly. Swear, you know my coursework better than I do. And besides, you're the one who says there's no such thing as too many friends."

"Hm," you let your eyes roll slightly, "I was obviously high when I said that and probably didn't mean bloody Oliver."

"Speaking of," he grinned, reaching for the rucksack he brought with you; now hosting your clothes, but also carrying the Altoid tin he used to store pre-rolled joints.

"Are you even listening to the story anymore, baby?"

"Of course I am, toots, I can multi-task." You hummed in response, waiting for him to finish lighting up before continuing onto a new paragraph; feeling him shift on your back. But you faltered when smoke blew against your cheek, Felix's lips descending a moment later to noisily smooch your skin. "You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled.

"I think you have ADHD."

"We knew that."

"Maybe you need something for that."

"Because I'm not listening to Harry Potter?"

"I knew it!" You laughed, shivering again when his free hand drew up your spine to nestle in your hair; handing you the joint with the other. "Fi, you're still distracting me," you moaned slightly, leaning your head back into his touch - contradicting your own words.

"You're doin' great, love," he grinned, licking the skin behind your ear, at your tattoo. "Keep goin', c'mon, I wanna hear what happens next."

"You're gonna reread this chapter when I go to bed, aren't you?"

Felix paused, "Maybe."

You grunted, dropping your head to the book before lifting it again and taking an inhale from the joint. Felix grinned at you in mischief, rolling over onto his back; hand behind his head as he stared up at you. You shook your head at him, handing the joint over before shuffling so you were laid on his chest with the book spread open in one hand.

"Love?" He mumbled.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him.

"Maybe... Uh, yeah, maybe start the chapter over? I'm a bit lost," he snickered, coughing when you tisked at him and offered a slightly annoyed look. "C'mon, baby, you can't tell me you were totally focused, either! You love me touching you, I can see it on your face."

To prove his point, the arm he had wrapped around you drifted to, once more, take a handful of your ample bottom - causing you to gasp slightly.

But you pouted, "I kinda want to finish this chapter, baby."

"And I'm distracting you?"

"Obviously."

Felix laughed, "Spot on Professor Snape, baby."

"If I read like Snape the rest of the chapter, will you pay attention to me?"

"You know what? I don't know, that voice is kinda a turn on... Everything you do is a turn on, doll."

"You'd think the consistent fucking we do would rein in your hormones."

"Nah," he tutted, squeezing his hand, "not when I got a girl like you, gettin' me all riled up. I mean, Half-Blood Prince, who? Got me full blooded, right here." You chuckled when he glanced at his cock, folding the book closed and deflating onto his chest and accepting the joint again. "Oh, c'mon, don't stop, 's just gettin' good!"

"You were calling Harry stupid literally 5 minutes ago."

"Come off it, when isn't he?"

"When he's fighting Voldemort?"

"Hm," he considered, tucking his hand into your hair to massage your scalp; gently pulling through your hair. "You might have a point."

"And now Dumbledore's - "

"Hey, hey, no spoilers!"

"It's not a spoiler if you were listening to me!"

"I'm always listening," he whined, you blowing smoke across his abdomen; watching his abs contract from the slight tickle; his cock bobbing from the movement and making you flush with heat not from the sun. "You're just so much more interesting, hmm?" He mumbled.

"Hey, hey. Flattery gets you everywhere with me," you teased, loving the easiness of his smile. "C'mon, pretty boy, your turn."

He took the joint from you, watching you try to pull back - but tightening his arm. "Stay here, love havin' you close," he mumbled, placing the joint to his mouth and reaching for the book again. Not wanting his arm to retract from your form, you reached up to take the joint from him; listening as he went back to the beginning of the chapter while your leg hiked up his hips.

Every other puff, you fed Felix the joint until there was nothing left; wee small roach being stubbed out in the dirt, leaving you two relaxed, high, and laid over one another as he continued to lazily read. But his hand still traced invisible patterns over your skin, the warmth of the sun making you sweat, but the way your boyfriend touched you made you shiver.

He knew you loved it, yet didn't so much as stutter on a single word when his smirk would grow feeling your reactions to his touches.

At the end of the chapter, he glanced down at you and let his lips follow; tightening his arm to bring you in closer, leaving repeated kisses on your forehead. You squirmed closer, giggling and bringing your hand up to hook around the back of his neck, directing him to your lips as he rolled over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. "You're distracting me, now, li'l minx," he teased.

"Oh, how unfair, what ever shall you do?"

He chuckled, pecking your lips twice more, then asking, "Another chapter or...?"

"Yes, one more chapter," you laughed, "but then we're gonna have to head back up, your mum wanted my help with something."

"Oh, she's got you some new dresses she wants you to try," he relaid.

"I thought she stopped doin' that?"

"She loves spoiling you," Felix eased. "And Venetia stopped letting Mum dress her, so, you know... Here, you read this one."

You agreed, letting him readjust so he was sat up again, keeping you between his spread legs so he could peer down at the book from over your shoulder. Was it distracting, feeling his fully blooded cock at your back? Absolutely. Was it mildly erotic for you to ignore it and continue reading - as if his warmth wasn't making you wet? Also, yes.

"Fi," you whispered when his lips danced across your shoulder. "Distracting me, again," you half-scolded.

"You're doin' great, love," he chuckled.

But he didn't stop, it was like he was turning himself on (more) by his soft, gentle touches; and being spurred onward when he noted the way your chest heaved when your breath changed.

"Keep goin'," he whispered in your ear, dragging his hands up to cup either bare breast and swipe his thumbs around your nipples to stiffen them into peaks.

"Felix - "

"Don't stop," he encouraged, "'s real endearing the way you're tryna fight this."

"You try to get between me and Potter one more time, we're going on a sex strike."

There was a pause as you looked up at him, both sharing growing grins before bursting into echoing laughter that Venetia heard from one of the loungers close to the house. She grinned to herself, turning the page of her own Half-Blood Prince book.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[dracowars]

H!i i love your writing and i wanted to make a request can you do a draco x reader where they have a fight and then they sleep in diffrent rooms and the reader has a nightmare so she goes to dracos room and then just fluff <3

fighter | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,2k

summary: where y/n and draco sleep in separate rooms due to an argument

a/n: i wrote this in one flow in the notes of my phone (i usually write on my laptop that's also why the " are different) and i don't know what happend, but i've never written something so fast. i hope it stays that way lmao enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog, it's so important!

warnings: angst, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"I can't believe you are being serious right now!", you scream at Draco, physically retreating from him as you take a few steps back in your anger, anger about what he just told you. The atmosphere in his big dark bedroom in Malfoy Manor doesn't help the cold that is now surrounding you, neither does your light sleeping gown that you put on mere minutes ago to finally get some well deserved sleep. That is until you got into this stupid argument.

Your whole body trembles and you desperartely run your fingers through your hair, waiting for him to tell you that it was just a joke, that none of it is real.

"I knew you wouldn't understand", is the only thing that leaves Draco's mouth and if you had been a few more meters away, you would have probably missed his murmur. But you caught every word he said and it makes you even more furious.

"Oh, so you didn't even think about telling me that you want to take your father's place among the Dark Lord's entourage? The one of your father who is currently, if I may remind you, trapped in Azkaban?!", you say while fully realizing the impact of these words. Draco really wants to become a Death Eater and follow Voldemort as his faithful footman until he decides one day that he does not need him anymore either and puts him into the same prison his father is currently residing.

"See? That's why I preferred not to tell you because I knew you would react like this", Draco only sighs at your emotional outburst, rubbing his palms against each other as he looks at the dark wooden floor beneath your feet.

"So you now support the Dark Lord? Is that it?", you ask, now directly looking at him in utter disbelieve, ignoring his previous words. In your opinion, this is the only reasonable reaction when you are told your loved one wants to basically throw his life, and everything he has accomplished, away. And you are a huge part of that life which he would discard. Just like that.

"Y/N, you are missing my point!", Draco raises his voice now too, no longer being able to withstand the hurtful words you are throwing his way. "I need to do this, alright? It is none of your business anyway."

"N-None of my business?!", you stumble over your words, not believing your ears but one look at his face tells you that he is being deadly serious. For a moment, you hold in your breath and stare at him, looking into his eyes that seem to have darkened now.

"You know what? Alright, if it is your business and you want to follow in your father's steps, then I'm not needed here anymore", you say with a fake smile on your lips, passing him without looking at him again and leaving the room with fast steps. You do not listen when he calls after you, because if he really wanted to solve this, he would follow you. The fact that he does not, sends another dagger through your already suffering heart.

Standing in one of the cold hallways of Malfoy Manor, watched by the few family pictures that hang along the walls, you make your way to the next guest room where you plan on spending the night before being able to leave first thing in the morning.

You open the creaking door and enter the room, taking a look at the large bed with dark green bedding. Sighing, you let yourself fall onto the soft blanket in defeat and look at the panaled high ceiling.

The next moment, all the emotions come crushing down on you and you let your tears run free, crying into the soft bedsheets, grapping a fistful of it in your hand. You don't know how long you just lie there and cry bitterly, but when you suddenly jolt out of your sleep, drenched in sweat, it takes you a few seconds to realize where you are. The realization hits you painfully as you lean against the headboard, knees pulled towards your chest beneath the thick blanket and your hands trembling, pulling the safety of the fabric more towards you.

You thought you had already cried out all of your tears, but this terrible nightmare paralyzed your entire body and the tears streaming down your already puffed cheeks do not seem to stop. Trembling, you lower your forehead onto your knees, closing your eyes to dispose of those bad images, but they keep appearing in front of you. Crying into the blanket even harder, your mind comes up with the only plausible solution and before you know it, you find yourself standing in front of Draco's bedroom again, slowly opening the door.

With only your head poking in at first, you squint into the darkness, searching for any indications if Draco is asleep or not. When you only hear his soft breathing, you sneak towards your side of the bed and climb beneath the cold blanket as quiet as possible, trying to sniffle your tears.

Draco, however, senses that something is wrong and shifts in his sleep, turning onto his back. His hand slightly grazes yours and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the sensation. It only takes two more seconds until Draco opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the warm trembling body next to him.

Pushing onto his arms, he looks at you, confused, but once he hears your sobs, he takes you into his arms without any words, enveloping you in his warmth. Burrying your face in the crook of his neck, your crying grows even worse and you claw his shirt as if he could disappear any second.

"I-I was so scared, D-Draco", you stutter once you have caught your breath a bit more, holding your hands in front of your mouth to stop yourself from breaking down again. "Y-You were a Death Eater and they- they took you from me. H-He killed you, Draco."

Draco, who was busy wiping away your tears while listening, stops in his movement, his lips slightly parted in shock. In this moment, he hated himself for making you cry like this, for causing you such a horrible nightmare that you ended up thinking that you had lost him.

"He won't, Y/N. I promise", Draco whispers finally, not at all sure what he is supposed to say right now. On the one hand, he wants to make everything right again, but on the other hand he knows that he has responsibilites that he can't run away from.

"You can't promise me that", you sob, wiping away your tears by yourself now, your hands still a shaking mess.

"I'm so sorry, darling, but I have to follow him", he answers, his voice shaking as he softly takes your hands in his. "Otherwise he is going to kill me. But what is worse is that he is going to kill my family. He is going to kill you if I don't obey."

As he says these words and lets down his walls, you see a single tear running down his cheek, finding its way onto your intertwined hands below.

"We- We will find a way, baby", you try to assure him, squeezing his hand lightly. "You don't have to do this. We just need to fight. For us. For your family. For you."

"I will."

[lushaletta]

I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you

in good hands / fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader

summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.

a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.

“Harry?”

“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.

“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.

Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.

“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?

His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”

It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.

He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.

“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”

He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.

“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”

Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?

He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.

The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”

And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.

From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.

All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.

“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“

“Fuck around and find out.”

Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.

The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.

You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.

“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.

He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.

“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”

You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”

The essay is forgotten just like that.

The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.

Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and green with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.

“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”

Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.

“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.

Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.

Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.

You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.

Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.

“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.

“Think I deserve my kiss now?”

In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.

He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.

Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”

[regretfulcorrine]

A Very Harry Drawtober | Day 14: Trick or Treat

As you can see, I'm pretty behind in @basiatlu 's prompts but I wanted to do another 'Trick or Treat' one really bad so here it is :v

The year the Potter-Malfoys introduce the Granger-Weasley kids to trick or treating and it's serious business.

(Better quality I think under the cut, tumblr destroyed it :,0)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Coffee Date

"Sorry I'm late," Harry said, pressing a presumptuous kiss to Draco's cheek and bringing his chaos, and his busy-ness, and his charm bursting in with him.

"You're two minutes early," Draco replied, tipping up his chin a bit to hide how embarrassed and off-kilter the other man always made him feel.

Harry grinned at him, bright and open, dimples utterly devastating. "But I'm still here at least ten minutes after you, going by the state of your coffee." He reached over and tucked a strand of Draco's hair behind his ear, "Can I get you another while I get mine?" he offered.

"Decaf," Draco said, "please. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” he replied with a wink, boyish and charming, and Draco wasn’t sure how he was meant to control the pitter-pattering of his foolish heart.

He watched as Harry chatted with the barista, making her laugh while she poured Draco’s coffee and made a sugary drink for Harry that hardly deserved the title of coffee. She handed him two chocolate croissants and he thanked her before levitating everything back over.

“Hi,” he said when he sat down and handed Draco his coffee and a croissant. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” he replied politely. “You?”

He quirked an amused eyebrow at him, “I’d be better if I hadn’t woken up alone in my bed.”

His cheeks heated and he could feel his face and neck staining a horrible , blotchy red from his blush. He tried to hide it by picking up his coffee to take a sip but feared it didn’t really do the job when Harry grinned even more widely at him.

“I’d planned to make you blueberry pancakes,” he added. “And mimosas, if you’d been so inclined.”

“Well, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome,” he said, a little sharper than he’d intended but Harry had always been annoyingly good at getting under Draco’s skin.

The other man set down his drink and reached across the table, covering Draco’s hand with his own. His face turned very serious, green eyes searching Draco’s. “I cannot stress this enough,” he said, “there is no possible way for you to overstay your welcome.”

He huffed and started to roll his eyes but Harry jumped in.

“I’m serious, Draco. I don’t have casual sex,” he said bluntly. “I’m demisexual, so by the time I want to have sex with someone, it’s basically a declaration of love.”

“You love me?” he asked incredulously.

“I literally told you that last night!”

He gaped at Harry, mouth opening and closing uselessly. “But things people say during sex don’t count!” he protested.

“Fine,” Harry huffed. “I’m fucking in love with you and if you don’t want your gasped ‘me too’ to count, that’s fine,” he said. “I can-”

“No!” he said, reaching for Harry’s hand as it retreated across the table. “I meant it,” he said, “Harry, of course I meant it.”

“Then why would you assume I didn’t?”

Shrugging, he looked down at where their hands were joined, “because you’re Harry Potter. You’re amazing, and kind, and funny, and charming, and anyone would fall in love with you. Everyone wants you-”

“I only want you,” he interrupted, brushing his thumb over Draco’s knuckles.

“Oh,” he breathed, searching his face for any trace of deception and finding none.

“Yes, oh,” he laughed softly.

He cleared his throat, “can we try this morning again?”

His smile returned, brighter than the sun, “I thought maybe you’d like to go to a movie with me,” he said. “Then maybe a stroll in the park, an early dinner, and then a night in?” he offered. “Then I’d be happy to try the morning all over again.” He squeezed Draco’s hand.

He smiled back, “that sounds good to me,” he whispered.

Harry brought Draco’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, “me too.”

—————————

Written for the @hdcandyheartsfest prompt “coffee date”

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Me & The Devil P.2 🌘| Harry Potter Imagine

takes place during HBP & DH1

Part 1 here | HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: death, violence, profanity, angst, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested yes/no

Premise: A dark storm is brewing over Hogwarts. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters spark unease in the Golden Trio. For a certain member of the Noble House of Black, she takes on a new role of double agent with the partnership between her and a certain Hogwarts professor. Will she survive the ordeal and get her freedom when it's all over? The odds are slim when acting as a loyal servant and hunted by aurors.

Note: Snape is 37 in this like the books and reader is 31. Part 3 will be the final chapter to this miniseries but I have no idea when it will be posted. Hope y’all like this one! Also near the end the final scenes are inspired by Wanda in MOM so yeah that belongs to Marvel

——————-

Months went by. Waiting. Scheming. Y/n felt her mind deteriorate by the day. Between Bellatrix’s constant complaints of Draco’s failures and Narcissa’s moping, Y/n spent most of her time in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Hidden away to perfect her spells and create new ones. She even managed to successfully become an animagus. 

A black crow.

How fitting.

At times Y/n found herself sitting in front of the window. Especially when it rained. The lightning in the distance, the crisp air filling the attic walls. Lost in her thoughts, Y/n would caress the silver jewelry laid on her left ring finger. 

Once a month she’d receive a letter from Severus, unbeknownst to the others, detailing Draco’s attempts and all the times Snape’s had to cover for him. As part of their deal to keep quiet of the others' disloyalty and motives behind actions, Snape agreed to update her on Draco and keep the Order off Y/n’s trail. For Y/n’s side of the bargain, she agreed to deflect suspicion on him from their fellow Death Eaters. Specifically her sisters.

And what better way to do that then in holy matrimony.

“You want to get married?” she scoffed, placing her wine glass on the coaster. Having left with her sisters following the unbreakable vow, Y/n returned later that night after Severus sent an owl. Sitting in the same leather chair from before, “You humor me.”

“I can assure you I am everything but comical, Y/n,” he drawled, standing by the fireplace. The sound of wood crackling filled the room. “This is not an arrangement I suggest lightly.”

Seeing how serious he was, Y/n’s demeanor changed. “Wow,” her tone lowered, finger raising to tap her lips. Unable to read her mind since she was a gifted Occulmens like himself, Snape was left to wonder what Y/n was thinking. Truth be told the woman was more impressed than shocked by his proposal. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been rendered speechless, Severus.” Standing, Y/n grabbed her glass and approached the man. “You truly believe this would work? Proposing a marriage between us….” she trailed, glancing at the fire briefly, “is intriguing. Tell me more.”

Snape’s expression remained the same, “It is simply a matter of convenience.” No need to sugar coat it, “We want to keep our secrets hidden. So long as you can assure your sisters stay off my back…..I’ll make sure the Order stays off yours. We play the part of a happy married couple when operating business with the Dark Lord, and I will do everything in my power to get your freedom when this all ends.” 

Y/n liked what she was hearing. The more she thought about it, the more engrossed she became. Marrying Snape wasn’t ideal--as the concept itself she did not care for--but Y/n could not deny the idea made her curious. Plus Severus was handsome, a talented wizard, and obviously, he knew her motives for following Voldemort. What her end goal was. She needed to keep him close. 

“I think I’ll find playing the part of a smitten wife will be rather easy,” she rasped, stepping closer to Snape so their chests were nearly touching. Walking her fingertips up the length of his arm, Y/n leaned closer to Snape which ignited a sharp breath from the man. She smelled of expensive perfume. Their closeness allowed him to see how her eyes turned from their usual coldness to something more lustful. Almost sinister. His reaction made her smirk, “Confident you can manage the same….husband?” 

Now, almost a year later, the two managed to successfully keep their union hidden from the Order. All while any suspicion the Death Eaters had of Snape seemed to disappear. Bellatrix, initially furious and doubtful of their ‘relationship’, soon began to trust him. Still, the witch grimaced each time the pair greeted the other with an affectionate kiss. Or when Y/n took claim to Snape’s lap during meetings. An action which surprised the man himself in the beginning.

Each letter Severus sent was met with one in return, however Y/n was careful to only send her owl in the late hours of the night. When her family was sound asleep. Signing the parchment with only her initials, but instead of B as the ending initial it was S. She’d never admit it aloud, but Y/n felt a sense of comfort with Severus. There was an overwhelming amount of hate in her heart, but the pinch of sanity left in her soul connected to him. Which is not a surprise. He is, of course, the only person who can relate to her. 

Neither would call it love. Y/n possessed no love. And Snape lost his when Lily died. They had mutual respect and care for each other as their partnership grew. Finding the other’s presence calm despite the world around them going to shit. 

The news of Draco’s success in connecting the two cabinets came from Bellatrix’s glee, the woman bursting into the attic with a loud, “It’s time, sister.” Reluctantly, Y/n trailed Bellatrix to Knockturn Alley, where they met several of their associates. 

Dark clouds painted the sky. Thunder rumbling. It set the tone of the evening. 

Y/n stayed stoic the entire journey. Hating every minute, yet doing nothing to escape. Where could she even go? The mark on her arm prevented her from doing so. Until Voldemort was defeated, the only way for her to stay alive was to continue the act of a loyal servant. 

Draco was gone when the group breached the cabinet in a cloud of black smoke. The boy rushed to find Dumbledore and complete his task. He found the man on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. Unaware his longtime rival, Harry Potter, was below him, watching the scene play out. 

The others arrived to witness Draco complete the task, however, in the end Snape was the one to administer the curse. And so the greatest wizard in history fell from the sky. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Severus the entire time. Watching his reaction. When he went through with the unthinkable, Y/n wasted no time in rushing to his side. Cupping his face, she noticed the dissociative expression Snape wore. Mind processing what he had done. “Severus,” he didn’t respond, making her shake his shoulders, “look at me.” Finally he meets her eye and the woman matches his anxious demeanor. “We have to go. Now.” 

Clutching his robe, the two push Draco in the direction of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter rings as she shoots a spell into the sky to bring forth the Dark Lord’s symbol in the clouds. Not long after the tower was surrounded by members of the Order, ensuing a battle between the groups. Y/n tried to avoid dueling as much as possible. Not wanting to harm anyone, especially the kids in the school. 

Cutting the corner after dodging a spell from her niece Nymphadora, Y/n spotted the wretched Fenrir Greyback attacking a man she didn’t recognize. Judging by the wild red hair he possessed, she assumed it was a Weasley. Greyback’s back was toward her, unaware she stood behind him. From the looks of it, the redhead was losing the fight. 

Not sure what came over her at that moment, Y/n raised her wand and shouted, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was flung into the wall behind him, falling unconscious. 

“Bill!” a voice screamed, Y/n turning to see a young woman running to where the Weasley laid. Bloodied and knocked out. Fluer dropped beside him, sobbing at the state of her fiance. She glanced up to see Y/n, immediately becoming frozen with fear while pleading with her to help. “Y-you--H-he’s been--.”

Cursing to herself, Y/n approached the two. “He wasn’t bit,” adjusting her dress skirt, she grabbed the cuffs of Bill’s jacket and gestured for Fluer to help. Together they moved him to a concealed area away from the battle. “He’s been scratched.” Having studied werewolves while in school, the woman was well educated on the subject. Muttering a healing spell, Y/n attempted to at least stop the bleeding, however, she knew the extent of his injuries were serious. “Nevertheless, the wounds are cursed. They’ll scar.” 

Fluer watched her carefully, “W-why are you helping us?” Y/n gave no answer, instead casting a final healing spell before standing up to leave. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement from Greyback, and sent a second stun his way to keep him unconscious. She always hated him, so it gave her great pleasure to pu thim down. 

Truth be told Y/n didn’t know why she helped the injured Weasley. It would have best suited her to get the hell out of there and let whatever outcome happen. Whether that be Greyback killing the man or Bill successfully overpowering the werewolf. But instead, she cursed her associate. Saving the life of ‘the enemy’. 

Several agonizing minutes passed before Y/n managed to escape the tower. At Snape’s order, she ran deep into the forest until she was far enough to apparate. Back at the manor she was immediately questioned by her sister.

“Is Draco okay,” Narcissa grabbed Y/n’s wrist to stop her from escaping to the attic. Eyes glossy with tears, “Did he--.”

“Your son is fine, Narcissa,” she roughly pulled away. “You have my husband to thank for that--he finished the job.” There was immediate relief from Narcissa, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Y/n went straight to the liquor cabinent, taking a glass and pouring a generous amount before downing it. She then refilled the glass, offering it to her sister without a word. Once Narcissa took it Y/n kept the bottle for herself, saying nothing more as she made her way to the attic. 

It wasn’t long before the others arrived. Y/n heard Narcissa’s cry of relief upon seeing Draco. Bellatrix was busy scolding Greyback--something that brought a smile to her face. Other murmurs were made out, but hard to identify with all the noise. Moments later she heard the fast approaching sound of footsteps nearing her door. Jolting from her bed with her wand raised at whoever was about to breach it. Only when it was revealed to be Severus did Y/n lower her guard, rolling her eyes, “What have I told you about--.”

Snape slammed the door shut, muttering a silencing charm which caused Y/n to raise her brow. “We need to talk.” Her guarded expression returned, but Snape beat her before she could question him. “I know you stunned the werewolf to save Weasley.” All movement from the woment seized, frozen in shock.

“How do you know--.”

“I saw you with Miss. Delacour, Y/n,” Snape peers down at her with visible frustration. “Why would you risk such a thing? If you had been caught--.”

“But I wasn’t, Severus,” she interrupts, eyes flicking to the door in fear someone was listening, but then she remembered the spell he cast. “I was careful. You should know better than to underestimate me. And to answer your question….” she turned away from him, hands on her hips as she turned her focus to the woods beyond her window. “I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did--It just happened. Maybe it’s the fact the Weasley’s are distant family. Or because I fucking hate Greyback.” She throws her hands up in defeat,  “Or I want the Order to have all its members to better their chances at winning this damn war. Maybe…” her hands fall back to her sides, “deep down there’s some humanity left in me.” The words were so low it was barely a whisper. Y/n shook her head, the speck of softness replaced with disinterest. 

“Whatever it was,” turning back to him, Y/n narrows her eyes in warning. “It’s no longer our concern. Dumbledore is dead, you killed him.” footsteps echo against the wood as she approaches Snape, noticing his expression change at the mention of the headmaster. “He will be plotting his next move. We need to remain focused--I expect his attention will be on us more now given the circumstances.” 

Snape knows she’s right. Killing Albus only shined a spotlight on him, and in turn on Y/n. He was now labeled public enemy #1 in the eyes of the Order. Voldemort himself will likely turn to Snape. They will have to up their game, continuing the act of a happy couple. Well happy as one can be in the middle of a war. 

That summer was endless torture following the Headmaster’s death. Y/n not only had to deal with Voldemort growing stronger, but also the return of Lucius from Azkaban. It did bring the witch great joy to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and matted hair. One year in prison did a number on him. 

Lucky for Lucius it was only one year. Had it been 15 like Y/n, he’d surely gone mad. Thankfully the two rarely saw each other. Not long after his release following Dumbledore’s death Y/n moved into Severus' home. Only returning to the mansion when necessary. 

At every Death Eater meeting Y/n had to fight yawning with how bored she was, keeping her expression blank even when addressed by Voldermort from time to time. The man wasn’t blind. Well aware the youngest Black was not as forthcoming with her praises to him like Bellatrix. Never voicing her opinions, while also keeping any objections to herself like a smart person would do. He never fully trusted her. Even though she was married to one of his most trusted advisors, something in the back of his mind told Voldemort she’d be the first to turn on him. Without proof, Voldemort kept a close eye.

The meeting tonight was just like any other. Seated at the massive dining table in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort at the head while the Black’s and Malfoy’s flanked to the right. Y/n seated beside Draco, far from her sisters. Very telling of her attitude towards them.

Severus was the last to arrive, dark cloak tailing behind him. His entrance caught everyone’s attention, while his was on his colleague hanging in the air. Muggle studies professor Charity Burbage. The wounds on her body indicated she had been subjected to torture. 

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted, “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” The headmaster took claim to the only free chair at the table, bidding a look to his wife, to which she slightly shook her head. Silently saying, “I had no part in this.”

Voldemort then said, “Do you bring news, I trust?”

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.”

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” Yaxley interrupted at the other end of the table, then proceeds to say he believes Harry will be moved at the end of the month. The 30th of July. The day before his 17th birthday.

“This is a false trail,” Snape insists. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. “Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

The Death Eater seated beside Y/n laughed, “Well, they got that right aren’t they.” Several at the table joined in the laughter. The youngest Black’s expression was tight, plastered with annoyance. 

“What’s say you, Pius?” Voldemort addresses the man seated at the opposite head of the table. 

Nagini curled herself next to the chair as he answered, “One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Voldemort chuckles.

“Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” The Death Eater appears pleased by the compliment. Voldemort turns back to Snape, “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house. Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible, once there it will be impractical to attack him.”

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Bellatrix. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” She leans against the table, voice dropping, “I want to kill the boy.”

“Of course you would,” Y/n thinks to herself, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Frankly she found her sister to be stupid to ask such a thing. Considering Voldemort mentions his desire to kill Harry Potter everyday. And with the prophecy, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else the opportunity to do the deed. 

In the back, Charity let out a haunting groan, causing Voldermort to shout, “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest’s quiet?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man spoke with urgency. “Right away, my Lord.” As he scurried off, Voldemort returned his attention to Bellatrix. 

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” the hope was clear in her eyes, disappearing with his next words. “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” With that she curled back into her seat, Y/n’s lips raising in a satisfied smirk.

“But,” he rises from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication.” As much as Y/n wanted to tune out this conversation, the nature of it was hard to dismiss. Especiall when the man walked behind the chairs on her side of the table. Brushing past her sisters before ending beside Lucius. There was satisfaction seeing him visibly afraid of Voldemort. A smirk on her lips when he was to give up his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession.

Her expression shifted when Charity’s brought to the center of the table. Death Eaters laughing at her despair and cringing with disgust at her profession. Y/n moves her gaze to Severus, who’s emotionless to Charity’s pleas. Then when the woman’s killed and her body drops to the table, Y/n lifts her hand to grasp Draco’s wrist. Squeezing it in warning for him to control himself when she sees his distraught state in the corner of her eyes. 

The action surprises the boy. Draco sucking in a breath and forcing himself to relax. Once he does, Y/n removes her touch and waits to be dismissed by Voldemort. As soon as the order is given she’s quick to leave the table, taking Snape’s outstretched hand where he apparates them back home. 

“How do you plan--?” he doesn’t let her finish the question.

“I have it covered.” Moving to his study, he hears her footsteps behind him, Y/n slamming the door shut once they’ve entered. He looked annoyed, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” she shouted, making him clench his jaw. Ever since the incident at the Astronomy tower the two had been on edge with each other. For one, the Order discovered their marriage causing Y/n to lose her shit. Now she was public enemy #2 in their eyes. Or 3 if you count Voldermort at the top. Her odds of the Order leaving her the fuck alone decreased immensly. 

Second, Snape told her of his and Dumbledore’s arrangement. That the headmaster asked Snape to kill him. A secret Y/n had trouble wrapping her head around and prayed to a higher power no one, especially Bellatrix, found out about. 

Crossing over to him where he stood at his desk, Y/n caught his wrist to make him look at her. “In case you have forgotten, dear husband, we are playing both sides right now. You say you want to protect Harry Potter…just how do you plan to do that during an ambush you helped orchestrate? What the hell are we supposed to do if Harry Potter dies at his hands Saturday next?” Y/n squeezed his wrist tighter, “I’m putting all my trust into Severus Snape. You promised me my freedom when this was all over.” 

“I haven’t forgotten, Y/n,” he removes himself from her grip, “You say you trust me. Do so, and you won’t be let down.”

Y/n didn’t know where it all went wrong. One moment she was flying in the sky, the next she’s being rammed into by Bill Weasley’s Thestral. Pain erupted in her chest, likely from a broken rib and caught herself on the creature's satchel. Her hand is then grabbed by the imposter Harry seated behind Bill, keeping Y/n steady to prevent falling to her death. Using her talent of legitimins, Y/n identifies the imposter as Bill’s fiance Fluer. 

“You’re not Harry Potter,” she whispers, causing Harry (Fluer) to widen her eyes. The accusation was confirmed when Fluer’s voice responded, “How did you know?” Before Y/n could answer, however, the world around her became black. Having been stunned by Bill who realized what was happening behind him.  

Acting fast, Fluer reached with her other hand to further grasp Y/n’s now limp body onto the Thestral. 

“What are you doing?” Bill shouted over the chaos, “She’s one of them!”

“And she saved your life in the Astronomy tower, William!” Fluer screamed back. Using all her might, she hauled Y/n over the bottom half of the creature. Gripping the material of her robes and dress while ducking at the incoming curses around them. 

When they finally made it to the Burrow, the shaky landing caused Fluer to lose her hold. Y/n fell to the ground, still unconscious. Bruises were sure to form on her body. Bill leaped off the Thestral, helped Fluer off and rushed to Y/n. After confirming she was alive by pressing his fingers to her pulse, the oldest Weasley took the death eater into his arms and followed Fluer into the house. But not before telling Fluer to take her wand which had been discarded into a ditch.

“Wait here,” he said, placing Y/n in the care of Fluer by setting her on a bench outside the door, Bill entered to find the others gathered around an injured George. After the shock wore off of his brother’s state, Bill announced the death of Mad-eye and departure of Mundungus. Deepening the already intense mood.

“There’s something else,” he hesitated, eyes flickering to find everyone staring at him with unease. They watched Bill exit the house, only to return a second later dragging the last person they ever expected. Gasps rang out, wands drawn in Y/n’s direction. The witch barely conscious but fighting against Bill’s hold. Eventually succumbing to sleep once again due to the pounding in her head. 

With the help of Remus, the two propped Y/n in a chair, casting a spell to bind her hands and legs. “Where’s her wand?” Remus urgently looked around, relieved to see the object in Fluer’s possession. He turned to Bill, “What the hell happened?”

As the oldest Weasley explained, Molly approached the woman, assessing her carefully. Y/n had dirt and grime in her hair. A small cut to her temple. Likely from a rock when she fell from the Threstral. Her breathing was shaky, pained groans escaping her mouth which Molly assumed was from trauma to her chest. Although the others were against it, Molly began performing healing spells on Y/n, “Had it not been for her my son would be dead! I do not care what side she is on--I shall offer the same courtesy.” 

The group was alerted to Y/n’s consciousness twenty minutes later when she groaned. Shifting in the chair, her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening to bright lights. Moaning, Y/n straightened up aware of the audience in front of her, however she did not appear concerned. Even with several wands pointing at her. “Hmmmph,” she blinks a few times, settling her gaze on Remus, “what an unpleasant situation we have here. I hoped to be dead before experiencing this.”

It pained Remus to hear her words. Thinking back to that little girl he’d met on the corner of Diagon Alley with James, perched on Sirius’ hip. That little girl was gone. In her place was a woman with the Devil on her shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.”

Tilting her head as though she found his statement funny, she replies “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?” rolling her eyes she adds, “Surely you could’ve come up with something better.”

Remus sighed, realizing it was about to be a long night. “We’re willing to negotiate terms if you provide us with information. A lesser sentence if you will,” he chose his next words carefully, seeing her demenor shift, “so long as you are upfront and answer all of our questions with honesty.” Y/n’s face tightened, no longer humored. Remus felt his stomach lurch, not breaking the intense eye contact she set with him.

“You threaten me--.”

“It’s not a threat--,” he insists but Y/n continues.

“With a cell in Azkaban and expect me to comply? By being a snitch?” she shakes her head, eyes full of fury. “Go to hell, Remus Lupin.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh?” She grumbles with a glare, “and how else do you suggest it be? I’m not stupid--a tad mad if we want to get technical, but you all have yourselves to blame for that.” Y/n was referring to the Order not taking her in during the First Wizarding War. Sirius warned them of his family and the Death Eaters recruiting her at a young age. Yet no attempt to protect Y/n was initiated. 

The werewolf’s face fell, “Had we known--.”

“Known what?!” She jumped forward in her chair as the dam of pent up resentment and anger broke, making several flinch at the sudden movement. A few wands pointed up but she paid them no mind. “That I’d become a Death Eater against my will? That I’d be forced to use the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms or face my sister’s wrath?” She spat with ferocity. Pupils nearly pitch black it made her appear demonic. “You knew what my family was like! Sirius knew--It’s why he left! And you did nothing to save me.” Leaning back in the chair, Y/n finished with, “Go ahead and kill me. I’m not telling you shit.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, his patience running thin and stress levels rising. “Y/n, I’m trying to help you here. We’re giving you the opportunity to avoid a lifetime in jail if you help us--help us end this war.” When his efforts are exhausted Remus gestures to the man behind him, “Kingsley has Veritaserum and we will use it if necessary.”  Now this has her smirking, chin raising in challenge. 

“Go ahead,” her voice lowers an octave, sending chills along his arms, “I welcome you to.” Weary of her acceptance, the adult members of the Order all exchange looks before Kingsley approaches. Y/n tilts her head back, watching Kingsley unscrew the vial and pour the tiny amount of liquid onto her tongue. Once it’s entered her stream, the woman cracks her neck and returns her attention to Remus. 

He clasped his hands in his lap, leaning in his chair. “How’d you know about tonight?”

Y/n pretends to think, “I think I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Yeah,” she nods her head, acting serious. “That was it.” 

Remus’s own head falls to his chest, the others visibly confused. The potion was to make her tell the truth. Pretty much against her will. Thinking it may have not settled in yet, Remus asks another question. “Who told him we were moving Harry?” 

Deciding to play along, Y/n shrugs her shoulders, “Yaxley.” Lie. She held back a chuckle at his confused reaction.

“How did he know?”

“Overheard it.” Lie.

“Where?”

“Diagon Alley I assume.” Lie.

“From who?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“But he’s the one who told Voldemort.” Y/n rolled her eyes at that, gesturing to her binded hands.

“Obviously since we’re sitting in this predicament.” She sees the frustration on Remus, as well as the others. Yet, the witch couldn’t help but feel entertained. “Anything else?”

“What’s your relationship to Severus Snape?” 

“He’s my husband,” She didn’t miss the way the Order reacted to the news. Upset but not surprised. No point in lying. They already knew about their marriage from what Snape told her. The truth of why, however, was still a secret. 

“Why did he kill Dumbledore?” Harry stepped forward, drawing her attention to him. Anger was written all over his face. Filled with absolute hatred. Something Y/n had expected when her husband murdered the man he looked up to. 

“You were there, right?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “Snape mentioned you’d been below the observatory deck.” Tsking, Y/n surveyed him. She was getting under his skin. “Why do you think he did it?”

“I think he did it to save himself. He was a coward,” Harry saw the way her face tightened. Taking offense to his words. A mere speck of what someone could label as affection or respect to her spouse. 

“Severus Snape is many things,” she sounded sinister, anger seeping off every word. “But a coward is not one of them.”

“Fat lot of good coming from you.” Harry antagonized her. “You hightailed it out of the ministry when Sirius died. He was your own cousin.”

“My cousin who left me a sitting duck for the wolves,” Y/n reminded the boy, temper rising. An indicator with how her voice was strained. “Let’s not forget you all thought he was responsible for betraying your parents. Didn’t even hesitate to believe he was guilty.” That cut them all deep. “And I adored Sirius at one point in life. Much like you, Harry Potter,” she let out a deep sigh, attempting to calm herself, “look at where it got me.” Exhaustion was beginning to take over the witch. Her body ached and there was a pounding in her head. Molly’s healing spells worked to patch any internal injuries Y/n had, but she still was drained from the whole ordeal. 

They were getting off track. Having had enough of the tension, Remus butted in, “Answer the question, Y/n. Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know,” she simply stated. Lie. “He didn’t say. Although…I can only assume it was to spare my poor nephew.” Another shrug, “And survive the unbreakable vow. Which you already know of.” 

Harry shook his head, “I don’t believe you.” His gut was telling him there was more to the story. 

“Harry, she took the Veritaserum,” Hermoine pointed out gently, missing the flicker of amusement from Y/n. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Hermoine’s right, Harry,” Ron agreed, moving beside his friend. “There’s no way she could be lying.”

“How much did you give her, Kingsley?” Arthur questioned, also suspicious of Y/n’s answers. Kingsley held up the vial. More than half was consumed.

“Enough.”

“Something’s off,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. A bickering match ensued between members of the Order. Harry, Arthur, and even Y/n’s niece, Tonks, had difficulty believing Y/n told the truth. The majority, however, voiced opposition. 

“Veritaserum is a very potent and strong potion, Harry,” Remus stood from his chair, but before he could say anything else, Y/n’s voice took over.

“Which you just wasted.”

Silence consumes the room. Processing what she said. That’s not possible.

Heads turning to the witch, Y/n starts to chuckle in delight. A sight unnerving to the Order as it becomes more deranged. Harry looked to his friends for an answer, but they were just as perplexed as him. Y/n’s voice turns taunting, “Oh my, you lot really are daft at times. Have you forgotten? Or did you believe it to be a rumor?” Her grin is wicked, finding the scene entertaining much to their dismay. “I’m a skilled Occulmens.” 

It was as though the dementors arrived with how cold the air became. Everyone falters, stilling at the revelation. It could only mean one thing:

Everything Y/n said potentially was a lie. 

The Death Eater tsked, “What do you think I did with all that time I had rotting in the middle of the ocean?” she laughs again, more menacingly. “Your little potion is useless! My mind is more protected than Azkaban. For all you know I fabricated everything I just told you.” Her taunting laugh continues, shredding the last ounce of patience the Order had for her. 

Remus kneeled in front of her chair and smacked the table, causing everyone besides Y/n to flinch. “Enough of these games! I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt knowing you’d been forced into this life, but you have proven to be not so different from your associates.” Now that was a nail to the coffin. Any and all of Remus’s hope for Y/n having some level of good in her gone. “This is your final warning--or we will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life for good!”

Never straying her stare, the Death Eater murmered cooly, “You have no idea how reasonable I’ve been.” This time it was Remus’s turn to scoff.

“Holding children hostage at the Ministry, attacking Hogwarts, marrying Snape, and sending assassins after the officials who locked you up,” He lists off, surprising the Order with the last detail. They had heard rumors of Azkaban guards and Ministry officials killed in the last few months, but assumed it was Bellatrix. “I don’t see how that’s being reasonable.”

Y/n gave a sound that was a mix of a chuckle and scoff, leaning forward in her chair. “Sending those assassins after them instead of myself was mercy.” A chill rose, Harry’s intuition telling him something was about to happen. “And despite your hypocrises and insults I have warned you time and time again to simply get out of my way.” Remus saw her hands fidget, tightening his grip on his wand. 

“You’ve exhausted my patience,” Her voice lowered once more, almost to a whisper as her bottom lip quivered. “But I do hope you understand…that even now--with what’s about to happen…..” lips curled into a deathly smirk. “This is me being…reasonable.”

Faster than the speed of light, Y/n casts a non-verble, wandless spell that mimics a gust a powerful wind, ripping the binds off her hands and ankles. Remus flies onto his back, the lights flicker and burst. The windows and glass shatter. Papers fly. Hermoine screams, echoing amongst the shouts as Ron pulls her into his arms. Molly leaning over an injured George to protect him from shards. 

 Fluer gasps at the feeling of Y/n’s wand in her hand ripped from her. The death eater had snapped her fingers in the chaos with a non-verbal Accio.

With her wand now in her possession, Y/n unleashes another bout of wind, crippling the Order from attacking her. Once satisfied she makes her escape. Black smoke fills the room before flying out the window and into the night sky. The storm inside the burrow seizing. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron coughs, catching his breath. 

“That,” Kingsley stands up straight, sore from colliding with the wall which knocked him down. “Was the closest thing to experiencing the Devil on Earth.”

Tags: @unloved-and-outspoken

[fandomnsfw]

Cherry - James Potter x Barmaid!Reader

Pairing: James Potter x Barmaid!Reader

Prompt: the songs Cherry by Harry Styles and the song Best Friends by Rex Orange County

Warnings: smut basically. (Also first song type fic so go easy on me!)

No Beta today lovelies let me know about spelling errors. ENJOY!!!

***********

You clutched your jacket to your body, running as fast as you could, your heart pounding against your chest as your lungs fought to take in more air. Your hair was whipping in the wind as you sped around the corner straight towards The Three Broomsticks. The second you burst into the pub everyone stared at you in mild shock before going about their evening. 

“Y/N your late!” Rosmerta huffed making you pout. 

“I know I was up late helping my sister with her homework.” You sighed as you slid the denim jacket off your shoulders before wrapping the plain black apron around your waist, putting your notepad and pen in the left pocket then your small tea towel hanging out the right pocket. 

“Be warned The Marauders are playing tonight so it's gonna be packed.” Rosmerta explained as she began ringing someone up. 

“O-Oh. Awesome.” You stuttered as you tried to control your emotions. 

“Don’t tell me you still fancy Ja--

“I am well aware he has Lily you don’t need to remind me.” You glared at her making her eyes widen. 

“Actually, they split up about 6 months ago.” Rosmerta whispered with a smirk. 

“R-Really?” You whispered trying to conceal the small flicker of hope. 

“There was a rumour that she found out one of his songs was about another girl.” You heard Frank whisper behind you making you jump a little. 

“I hate it when you do that. That’s the most stupid rumour I’ve ever heard.” You snorted with an eye roll. 

“It’s Cherry.” Her stated and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t think I’ve heard it.” You muttered with a frown. 

You had gone to school with both the Marauders and The Valkyries. You had been friends with them for the most part but they weren’t people you overly saw outside of school. So, when school finished you never really spoke to them again. When you got a job here, you’d occasionally see them after they performed. However, when they got more popular, they started doing bigger gigs. You had even dated James in year 9 when you were both 13 but you were kids, so it didn’t last. You both thought you were so mature, calling each other baby and kissing cutely behind the side of the science block.

You grinned at the adorable memory before shaking it off just in time to see The Marauders walk through the side door. You looked up to see those same hazel eyes, even to this day you would recognise in a crowd, even after all this time they still made you heart clench. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, it felt surreal. 

“Holy shit! Is that little Y/N Y/L/N?” You heard Sirius shouted excitedly making you tear your eyes away from James who was staring at you liked he’d seen a ghost. 

“We were in the same year, ya’ fuckin’ numpty.” You snorted making Sirius grin. 

“Hey show some respect! I'm a rockstar now!” Sirius laughed causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ha! I don’t give a shit if you're selling out 100,000 tickets love. This is my domain.” You snickered before passing him a beer.

“How’s Evan? You guys have been together since...year 10 right?” Sirius asked excitedly as he sipped his beer. 

“We broke up, about 2 years ago actually.” You muttered awkwardly as you tried to busy yourself drying the rim of a glass with your tea towel. 

“Oh! That sucks.” Remus sighed sadly as his eyes flickered towards James. 

“Right, I'm letting in the crazies so get yourself set up lads!” Rosmerta shouted as she pointed to the small stage in the corner of the pub. 

You watched the set as the boys played happily, they hadn’t changed in the slightest, even now with such a serious fanbase. They were still fun and down to earth. You watched the first few songs with interest as you served the gaggles of girls that were cheering too loudly but you couldn’t blame them. They’re in their element up on stage, like they’d always been. You chuckled as Remus and Peter told the other two they needed a break. 

“We’re gonna play Cherry whilst our Drummer and Bassist take a break.” James muttered breathlessly into the mic.

Sirius began playing a beautiful tune on his acoustic guitar that you instantly felt a connection with. It almost sounded like the first random tune James created when he first learnt to play guitar. You decided to take you break and stand a little closer to the stage. This is the song Frank had said was about someone else. When James started singing you listened to the lyrics intently. 

‘Don't you call him baby. We're not talking lately, Don't you call him what you used to call me.’ He looked at the floor as he sang making you frown in confusion, he usually sang with a lot more confidence, until he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

‘I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best, I'm selfish so I'm hating it.’ His eyes bore into yours and you couldn’t understand why, but you figured maybe the spotlight was obstructing his view.

‘I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress, Take it as a compliment. Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't you call him what you used to call me’ You frowned as you realised he was wearing a red plaid shirt over a white T-shirt similar to one you had back in school. Don’t be stupid Y/N it’s not about you, you thought to yourself.

‘I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends. Did you know I still talk to them? Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?’ You instantly felt your heart stop as your eyes widened. This song was about you, Evan’s parents owned an art gallery in the next town over. You looked for an escape spotting the door to the outdoor smoking area and immediately sped out the pub telling Frank you’d be back soon as you shoved past the hordes of girls. 

“You okay Y/N?” You heard someone shout as you got outside. 

“Is that song about me?” You asked blatantly making Remus smile sadly. 

“Its one of them.” Remus answered calmly taking a pull of his fag. 

“THERES MORE?” You shouted, your jaw dropping in shock.

“Yeah, there's also Best Friend that’s an old one though.” Remus laughed calmly, you grabbed the half-smoked fag from his fingertips and took a long drag of it. 

“You were always...the one that got away, I guess. You dated as children, but I think James always wished you guys had waited until later in life.” Remus added making your eyes soften. 

“This isn’t why Lily and James broke up is it?” You asked, guilt swimming in your gut but the question had laughing again. 

“Nah, Lily came out the closet.” Remus chuckled making your eyes widen.

“O-Oh okay.” You chuckled shyly before passing the lit smoke back to Remus which he motion for you to smoke. 

Remus left you to your thoughts as you took drag after drag trying to calm yourself down. Your hands were shaking causing the ash to drop off the cherry-Cherry…why was it called that? You thought curiously your nerves fading into curiosity. Just then you looked up to find those hazel eyes staring at you from the exit of the smoking area.

“Hey.” He muttered like he couldn’t quite believe you were here.

“Why Cherry?” You asked abruptly making his mouth open as if to say something but he paused for a moment before finally speaking.

“You had this red tinted lip gloss…when we dated, it was the girliest thing you owned, and it tasted like Cherry. You wore it everyday for a whole year even after we broke up, then in year 10 you started dating Evan and stopped wearing it.” He answered softly making your heart clench.

“I can’t believe you remember that. That was 12 years ago.” You chuckled in disbelief.

“I remember everything about you…about us. Like how you never used to style your hair because you’d always run your hand through it and ruin it. Or how you didn’t wear much makeup in summer because you have hayfever and are always rubbing your eyes. You used to hate the colour yellow but you think your baby sister looks amazing in it. I remember how you used to love when I’d play with your hair. I also remember the last time we really spoke, it was just after we had finished 6th form and we all went to the pub. You were out having a smoke and Evan had already passed out at the booth. I said to you that I was glad I’d met you and you replied—

—Don’t be such a sap. Just buy me somet nice when yer’ a rockstar.” You finished for him with a laugh which was quickly silenced when you looked at James hand that was holding a box in his hand.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the box like it was about to bite you. He seemed to find this amusing but he swallowed his laugh and opened to box showing you the contents. There sat a white gold chain with a white gold and rose gold cherry pendant hanging off it. He took it out the box, sliding the empty velvet box into his pocket before approaching you. You could feel tears building in your eyes as he came behind you.

“I was jokin’ ya’ fuckin’ sap.” You sniffled so quietly you were sure he heard you.

“I wanna say I forgot how much I love your accent but that would be a lie.” He chuckled happily as he lower the chain around your neck.

His fingers brushed against the skin at the back of your neck causing your body to come alive, goosebumps all over your body, you held your breath, praying this moment would never end. He did the clasp so slowly, you knew it was intentional, but you didn’t care you welcomed it. 

“Can I take you out next week?” He whispered in your ear his hands brushing all the way down your spine over your clothes.

 “Y-Yes.” You stuttered almost breathlessly.

**********

You were just sliding your white strappy heels when the knock on the door came. You brushed off your white satin shirt that was tucked into a grey tight mini skirt that hugged your hips perfectly. You opened the door and instantly saw a bunch of what looked like a bouquet of flowers but when you took a longer glance you realised it was multi coloured chocolate covered fruit made to look like flowers.

“I suggest this be put in your fridge and not a vase.” James joked making you grin.

“Probably for the best. These are awesome, way better than normal flowers.” You giggled as you pulled out two gold dusted white chocolate cover strawberries before placing the ‘bouquet’ into the fridge.

“You’re wearing the lipgloss.” He muttered in shock as you passed him one of the strawberries.

“Well I’m wearing a cherry lipgloss. I don’t think they even sell the brand I had 12 years ago.” You giggled before biting into your own strawberry.

“You look gorgeous.” He muttered happily as he finished his strawberry, popping the stick in the bin before holding out his hand for you.

“I would return the sentiment but you have enough fan girls doing it for me. Where are we going?” You snickered as you slid your hand into his, lacing your fingers together.

“Thought I’d take you to that little Italian place they just opened then maybe dancing?” He muttered nervously making you soften.

“You could’ve said McDonald’s and I’d of been happy cos I’d still be with you.” You replied sweetly making him grin from ear to ear. 

“Careful, you almost sound like a sap.” He teased you playfully.

“I’m not 18 and emotionally stunted. I’m  allowed to be a sap.” You argued with a cute pout on your lips.

“Stop pouting or the only place I’ll be taking you will be the old science block.” He whispered in your ear as you both exited your flat block.

“Mr Potter the scandal!” You exclaimed in a Scottish accent, a clear imitation of the time Ms McGonagall when she’s found you both behind a wall kissing. Though you had joked back your cheek we’re still painted red with James previous ‘threat’.  

“Oh I miss Minnie. I wonder how she’s doing?” James sighed softly with a small smile on his face.

“I see her at Tesco a lot. She seems well. She recently retired lives just at the edge of Hogsmeade in a small cottage.” You answered with a grin.

“I miss living here. Don’t get me wrong I love being able to play music and live with my surrogate brothers but I miss the quiet here. I still come back to see mum and dad but it’s not the same.” James sighed as he looked around at everything around him as you both started walking towards the restaurant hand in hand.

“Could you not live here but still do your gigs?” You asked with a soft frown on your face.

“I never thought so but recently Remus has been talking about being closer to his parents. They moved up here a few years ago when Remus mortgaged them a little cottage with 2 bedrooms. I think he wants to settled down, have some roots. Sirius is a wild card though. He’d rather be in a new city every night. Peter only has his mum so I think he’d be happy to move back here too. So really it’s just Sirius stopping us.” James rambled making you smile at the utter familiarity of it.

“He’s dating that Pop singer right?” You laughed making James roll his eyes.

“I think she really understood him and it freaked him out so he ended it not long before we got here. That’s my guess anyway…he won’t talk to me about it.” James huffed with an eye roll. 

“Idiot.” You snorted as you both saw the restaurant ahead.

James opened the door as you both approached it, his face lighting up when you leaned up to kiss his cheek before walking past him into the restaurant. James stood in front of the host with a polite smile. However when the young woman looked up her face instantly lit up.

“You’re Jame Potter right? The lead singer of the Marauders?” She asked as if trying to keep the excitement out her voice.

“Yeah we have a table booked for 7.” He replied with a smile.

“I love your new song Cherry.” She gushed as she showed him the way your table clearly not even bothering with your presence.

“Thank you! Can we get two glasses of red please? And some menus?” James asked as he pulled out your seat and suddenly the girls eyes were on you. 

She scanned you with a look of mild disgust until she caught sight of something on you that seemed to have her flushing, with anger or embarrassment, you weren’t sure but you looked down and instantly realised you had the Cherry necklace James had given you on.

“Two glasses of red. Got it, here’s your menus.” She stated in a professional tone that made your eyes widen. When she walked away you turned to James with a deadpan look.

“She totally knows.” You whispered nervously.

“Knows what?” He asked with a frown.

“That I’m Cherry.” You hissed as she began coming back towards the table with two glasses of wine.

“Thank you.” You said sweetly making her eyes narrow before turning back to James.

“Can I get a quick picture and an autograph?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet tone that made you laugh behind your wine glass.

“Do you mind?” James asked you sweetly making you smile with rose tinted cheeks.

“Of course not love.” You whispered softly making him grin happily. 

He jumped up, posing for a picture with the girl before grabbing a napkin and signing it for her. She gave him a bright grin before scampering off probably to text her friends. You watched as James sat down with a happily look on his face.

“You’re really in your element aren’t you?” You chuckled softly as he looked up into your eyes, sipping his wine.

“Without our ‘fans’ I really would be no where. Did you know the first record company that approached us was because a young woman who worked there, retweeted a video clip of our gig in a run down underground bar in London. She gushed about it so much a few of the higher ups saw it. Sirius got his first photoshoot because a photographer saw her teenaged daughter liking a bunch of the bands Instagram pictures. Without fans we would probably be washed up nobody’s.” He explained and you felt your heart melt. 

“I’m so glad you stayed the same baby.” You whispered with a cheeky grin.

“I never called Evan baby by the way. Just wanted to clear that up.” You giggled making him flush.

“Good. I-I never called Lily it either.” James replied making you smile a sincere smile.

“Good.” You sassed playfully making him chuckle.

You both finally ordered food, flirting over the dinner table with an alarming amount of ease. It felt natural, like this was a normal everyday date night; and not the first proper date you two had ever been on. You laughed, you both got tearful and nostalgic. Everything was going swimmingly until your ex boyfriend walked in with a blonde girl you knew was his secretary.

When you both locked eyes he seemed to go through a slew of emotions ranging from sadness to love, until he caught sight of James and it all turned to anger. 

“I want to say I’m surprised but I really shouldn’t be should I?” Evan scoffed quietly as he approach your table.

“Evan, how are you mate?” James tried casually making Evan visibly sneer at him. 

“I’m well, thank you Potter. When did you two start dating?” He spat making James’ eyes narrow.

“This is our first date.” He stated as calmly as he could, clearly surprised by his hostility.

“I’m surprised, considering you’re the reason my girlfriend of 7 years said no to my marriage proposal.” Evan spat out and suddenly everything grew silent.

“If I remember her words correctly. She said ‘I’m sorry Evan I can’t marry you. I can’t picture my life in the future with you. I thought I’d give us a chance but I can’t take the next step when I don’t feel it.’ I obviously asked what she meant by it and she said ‘The pull.’ I had no idea what she even meant. I mean I was her first PROPER boyfriend she’d never been with anyone but me. Then I found her secret little—

“Shut up Evan.” You snapped in utter humiliation.

“I found a box full of things from when you two had you 3 month long relationship in year 9. Letters, notes with music notes on them, cute little gifts you gave her. There was even a cutely pressed flower sealed in resin. I mean I’d think that was cute if she had things like that from OUR relationship but nope. Nothing.” Evan finished making tears prick your eyes.

James was never gonna wanna see me again. He’s gonna think I’m some creepy stalker that has been obsessed with him for 12 years. You went to stand up but James reached out and wrapped his hand around your wrist.

“What did you honestly think was going to happen by telling me that she’d been longing for me just like I have for her? I also have a box filled with things from her including the red plaid top she left at mine after a party in year 11.” James snorted out proudly making your jaw drop. 

You wiped the unshed tears away carefully before you glanced at Evan who looked beyond angry. He didn’t say anything else just walked to his own table silently. You turned to James who let out a small sigh making your heart clench in fear. 

“I never understood why you dated that dick.” He huffed with an eye roll.

“Because you started dating Lily.” You whispered brokenly and he looked up at you with a frown.

“I didn’t start dating Lily till you started dating Evan.” He corrected making you frown.

“No I remember seeing you and Lily at Madam P’s on a date. You bought her my favourite cream puffs.” You huffed with an eye roll.

“I bought them for you! Then when I went to give them to you you were making out with Evan!” He argued and suddenly tears pricked your eyes.

“N-No cos then that would mean I wasted 7 years with the wrong person…” You whispered sadly with tears brimming your waterline.

“Oh baby…” He muttered sympathetically before standing up to kneel at the side of your seat.

“We were kids. We didn’t know better. As adults we know it’s easier to talk about things instead of assuming.” He stated gently, his hand caressing your thigh in a soothing manner.

“Come on, I’ll pay for dinner then we can go for a walk instead of dancing?” He offered sweetly making your heart pound heavily in your chest.

You gave a nod and collected your purse as he signalled for the waiter. The waiter came over with the bill which you quickly offered to pay half of, but James looked psychically wounded, so you dropped it. 

He offered you his arm which you took as you both began strolling towards the park. He was quiet until we got to the floral covered entrance of the park. He clutched your hands that were resting around his bicep as he looked down at you.

“I missed you.” He suddenly said making you flush under his gaze.

“I missed you too.” You replied sweetly making him grin happily.

************

You walked into your flat, locking the door behind you and putting the latch on before throwing your keys into the bowl near the front door. You kicking off your shoes before shuffling straight towards your bedroom. When you opened the bedroom door and turned on the light,  you instantly caught sight of your boyfriend making you frown a little before you let out a squeal of happiness.

“Shit…I fell asleep.” James grumbled huskily as he sat up rubbing his eyes. He grinned at you sleepily holding his arms out.

“I thought you weren’t back till next week?” You giggled as you launched yourself into his arms.

“The show in Sheffield got cancelled cos of the rain. So we came back early.” He explained as he nuzzled into your neck.

You and James had been dating for about a month, you’d only given him a key because he was always away so you told him if he ever got back early he was welcome to chill at yours. You guys had yet to take it to the next step, you weren’t sure why he was hesitant, but for the past three days since you’d accidentally given a full view of James naked torso over FaceTime, you’d been insatiable.

“I missed you baby.” You whispered in a rather seductive tone as you settles on his lap and leaned down to kiss him softly.

“Mmm missed you too.” He mumbled as he pulled away from the kiss. 

“Nope m’not done yet.” You grumbled as you brought him in for a more heated kiss.

He gasped against you lips but his hands gripped at the back of your work shirt. You moaned against his lips, your tongue sliding along his bottom lip teasingly before pulling away with a grin.

“I need a shower. You are welcome to join me.” You offered with a wink as you climbed off his lap to strip down to your undies.

“I’ll wait until your out. I’m not making love to you for the first time in the shower.” He chuckled as he stripped off his T-shirt and laid back on your bed with a smirk.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes raked over his now naked torso. It was like he was sculpted by the gods. The only thing you could think of in that moment was, I wanna lick him. He reached down and cupped his package, something that would usually make you roll your eyes but instead you found yourself wanting to drop to your knees and beg him to use you. 

“Ugh it should be illegal how fuckin’ hot you are.” You huffed before stomping off to your bathroom with a pout.

When you got into the shower you sighed happily, you realised you’d thankfully shaved the day before as well as washed your hair so it saved time. You quickly put on a shower cap before stepping into the water to start washing. You used your expensive lush Snow fairy shower gel, smiling at the sweet smell. Once done you got out and dried yourself off before using the matching Snow fairy body mist. 

You took the show cap off and wrapped the towel around you before wandering into your bedroom. When you walked in James looked up and immediately sat up straight. He must’ve been expecting you to come out in clothes because his face flushed softly.

“Why pray tell, are ya’ still dressed?” You smirked making him grin.

“Apologies my lady.” He exclaimed as he very dramatically dropped his pants making you openly laugh.

“Idiot.” You laughed as he threw his jeans and socks across the room leaving him in a pair of tight Calvin Kleins. 

“You look like a fuckin’ Calvin Klein advert.” You groaned deciding to wind him up as much as you felt wound up.

The second the towel dropped so did James’ jaw. You smirked as you sauntered over to the bed, your hips swaying as you went. James seemed in a slight daze as he shuffled after you. You laid down, leaning up on your elbows to raise an amused brow at him.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous baby.” He groaned as he crawled onto the bed admiring you body openly.

“Been wanting this for days.” You whispered as he hovered above you, his arms trapping you against the bed. 

“Oh really?” He teased his index finger trailing up your body slowly, until it reached your chin.

“Mhmm Sirius accidentally pointed the phone at you when you went to change a few days ago…haven’t been able to satisfy myself since.” You pouted playfully making him smile.

“Poor baby.” He whispered huskily in your ear before leaning down to kiss just below your ear making you gasp.

“Please James…” You whispered breathless arching again him as his hand slid downwards until he arrived at your hip.

He said nothing, instead he gave you what you wanted. His hand slid down a little further, his fingers brushing through your already wet folds. He groaned audibly as his finger pulled the wetness to your clit and began massaging in slowly tentative circles. You arched against him your moan long and full of desperation. 

“Feel good love?” He asked sweetly as he began pressing kisses over your chest before taking your left nipple into his mouth, suckling on it gently.

“Mhmm…oh f-fuck…just like that baby.” You moaned as he dipped two fingers into you tight wet heat before dragging them back out putting pressure on your clit before diving back in.

“Need to taste you.” James growled as he backed down the bed until his face was level with your dripping pussy.

You suddenly felt a little panic. Evan had only done this once of twice in the years you’d been together and it was never any good for you. As if James sensed your worry he sat up a little and stared at you with worried eyes.

“I-I’ve never…I’ve only done this twice a-and I-I didn’t really enjoy it..” You whispered shyly your ears and cheeks flushing bright pink.

“I’m sorry… I thought I just heard you just say you’d only had this done twice?” He whispered in disbelief making you shrink a little.

“Fuck that come ‘ere baby. Let me change your mind.” James whispered in a slight daze as he bent your legs back exposing you but before you could feel embarrassed his tongue was on you.

You moaned at the feeling as he began leaving sloppy kisses all over your exposed heat. You keened against him try to change the feeling but you loving accidentally caused his tongue to slip a little further than your pussy. You let out an embarrassing squeak covering your face with your hands as James peered up at you with the dirtiest smirk on his face, if you’d of been feeling more coherent you’d of slapped it off.

“Interesting.” He whispered smugly as he kept eye contact and over down to lick your puckered hole making you gasp loudly which was followed by a long drawn out moan as he did it again.

“Gonna file that but of information away for another day.” James chuckled huskily before moving back to your pussy which he quickly began devouring as he slid two fingers inside your sopping wet heat.

“O-Oh shit…” You moaned loudly as he pressed his fingers into your g-spot.

“Could do this all day.” James groaned, his hips grinding into the bed like a horny teenager which shouldn’t of been as attractive as it was.

“M’Close love.” You cried out as his finger sped up but his tongue stayed gentle and precise. The combination had you clenching around his fingers but you needed something but you couldn’t quite figure it out so you took the initiative.

“Stick your tongue out baby.” You moaned and he looked up at you with a hint of surprise before he looked at you lustfully and did what you asked.

You hands slid into his hair as you began grinding against his tongue. He groaned at the sight of you using him for pleasure but you couldn’t focus. You threw your head back in pure ecstasy as you thrust against his tongue.

“Fuck yes. That’s it baby…gonna cum all over your pretty face.” You moaned as your hand gripped his hair even tighter. Finally you felt yourself tumbling over the edge your thrusts erratic and untimed but you clenched around his fingers coming undone on his tongue.

“Ahhh James.” You cried out as your legs shook with the force of your orgasm. When your body turned to jelly you released his hair letting him sit up as he licked his lips happily.

“That was so fucking hot.” James growled as he leaned down to kiss you heatedly.

“Need you…Need to be inside you baby…please.” James whispered breathlessly as he shimmied out of his boxers.

“How could I say no when you look so pretty begging.” You chuckled seductively as you reached down to guide his rather large cock into your pussy.

He pushed in slowly making your head fling back in pleasure. You’d never felt this full, it was like you could feel him everywhere. You let out a long drawn out moan, your heat clenching around him as he bottomed out. He let out a husky groan, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck your so tight.” He growled against your neck making you chuckle.

“That because the only person I slept with was barely 5 inches.” You snorted and James let out a surprised laugh.

“That is the only time talking about an ex is acceptable in our love nest.” He laughed as he leaned up to kiss you passionately making you instantly forget what you’d even been talking about.

When he began thrusting inside you wet heat you let out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan that had you flushing as you attempted to bite your lip to contain anymore.

“Ah ah. Don’t you dare cover your moans. Wanna hear you.” James growled as he gently freed your lower lip from your teeth.

“James.” You moaned as he sped up his pace.

You flung your arms around him, your nails digging into his back as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you. You pulled him into a messy heated kiss, your hands sliding into his hair to grip it tightly.

“Fuck…harder p-please.”  You so yes as you pushed your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“We’re supposed to be making love baby.” He teased as he refused to speed up.

“James if you don’t fuck me like a whore I’m gonna get myself off while you get to sit there with blue balls.” You growled threateningly making his eyes widen.

“You my love have got a dirty little mouth on you.— he gave a deep thrust to punctuate his words.— Such— thrust—An—thrust—impatient—thrust—little—thrust—slut.” He growled before he began pounding into you.

“Fuck yes! M’ yer’ little slut though.” You moaned loudly making him groan, his cock twitching inside you as he began thrusting at an animalistic pace.

“S-Shit so tight and wet for me.” He moaned huskily against your neck, his hand squeezing your arse cheeks roughly.

You clung to his muscular body unable to do more than lay there and let him fuck into you like his own personal fuck toy. You could feel yourself building up again so you reached down to circle your clit but James slapped your hand away before leaning up to spit on your pussy, the whole scene was something you’d thought would disgust you but it only had you moaning as he brought his fingers to your clit. 

He began circling the swollen bud as he contained fucking into you roughly. You felt yourself teeter towards the edge until he began drilling straight into your g-spot knocking your orgasm out of you like a punch. You came around his cock which triggered his own orgasm, growling through gritted teeth as he came inside you. 

“F-Fuck Y/N!” He groaned deeply as his came, his thrust begin to slow down until they came to a stop. Your legs were shaking and you felt limp everywhere but you’d never felt so satisfied.

“Wow.” Was all you managed to say as James moved your left leg to lay over your right one before laying down behind you making sure he didn’t slip out.

You flushed a little at the intimacy of the whole thing but as he left soft kisses on your spine and shoulders, you closed you eyes and basked in the feeling. Usually you’d jump straight up, pee and get dressed but this felt right. 

“I—

The sound of James phone ringing broke the moment and he rolled his eyes before sliding out of your pussy causing you to let out a breathless gasp. He smirked down at you as he grabbed his phone and answered the call.

“What do you mean your outside ay/N flat?” James sighed as you passed him his boxers. He slid them on after hanging up on his best friend and walking towards the front door of your flat. 

“Sorry to interrupt you screw sesh but this is important!” Sirius exclaimed as he pulled out the bands shared tablet and slapped it into James hand.

“Your ex girlfriend posted a new single?” James questioned with a frown as you finally came into the room dress in James t-shirt.  

The second the song finished you burst out laughing. You knew you shouldn’t of but the fact was, it WAS fucking hilarious in your eyes. 

“You finally pissed off the wrong girl.” You snorted through your laughter.

“What the fuck do I do now! Everyone knows this is about me!” Sirius growled as he began pacing.

“It’s a good song?” James tried as he tried to hold back his own laughter.

“Are you serious?” Sirius screamed making you fall into another round of laughter.

“Karma. Am I right?” You smirked before plugging the tablet into you speaker with the aux cable before blasting out the song.

“I don’t speak boy shit!” You cheered as you did a little dance making James burst out laughing. 

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER FIVE (see full series list here)

1992

You reunite with Remus later in the Great Hall as you take your seats at the staff table beside each other.

"Bloody Dementors every where, just lovely," you grumble, before looking at Remus with a small smirk. "So...remind me why you didn't decide to tell me you were coming?"

Remus sighs, a small guilty smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

You scoff, hitting his arm jokingly. "Fuck you, I could've spent my summer looking forward to having my best friend here with me. When did you find out?"

"Last month. Dumbledore said you had recommended me."

"I didn't necessarily recommend you, I just...may have mentioned your name along with the words 'great' and 'looking for a job'."

Remus chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm sure. But seriously, thank you. I really didn't expect him to hire me."

You lay a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. "You're brilliant, and I am right: you're going to be a great teacher. And hey, he hired me, didn't he? Only one who would." With that, you're reminded of your little visit from the Ministry and open your mouth to tell him about it but close it once you spot Dumbledore standing up to begin his speech.

"Welcome!" he booms brightly. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it's best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

He clears his throat and continues. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

You feel your heart start to beat faster at the topic at hand, and suddenly become very interested in the empty porcelain plate in front of you.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," he says, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks."

You exchange a knowing look with Remus.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

Dumbledore pauses and looks very seriously around the Hall, and nobody moves or makes a sound.

"On a happier note," he says with renewed joy, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

You clap enthusiastically, smiling widely as the room fills with some...scattered, rather unethusiastic, applause. You spy Harry, Ron, and Hermione clapping heartily and smile proudly at them. You glance around at the rest of the staff, clapping politely, and notice the sour expression on Snape's face. His gaze is dripping with pure loathing as he glares at Remus. You don't know whether to be pissed at Snape or to laugh at his pettiness.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continues, as Remus' applause dies away, "well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

You beam down the table at Hagrid, clapping loudly. He's gone completely crimson, hiding his happy face in the tangle of his black beard.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore concludes. "Let the feast begin!"

The plates and goblets lining the table in front of you fill with delicious food and you waste no time piling things onto your plate. The Hall echoes with talk, laughter and the clatter of cutlery against porcelain.

"So, now that you're here, I guess I can talk to you about...y'know," you say quietly to Remus, though the lowered volume isn't really necessary when the Great Hall is alive with such chatter and noise. "Got a visit from the Minister of Magic and a few of his buddies the last day."

"I expected as much," he replies with a sigh. "Actually, I'm so sorry, I meant to visit as soon as I found out but it was a full — "

"It's alright, Moony. I'm glad you didn't," you say with a weak smile. "They're monitoring the house again. I don't want you to have to get caught up in all this."

"Still...I feel bad about leaving you to deal with that alone."

You wave him off. "It's fine, honestly. I'm very brave." You chuckle at that last part, elbowing Remus playfully.

He doesn't seem to find it too funny, and worry lines crease his eyes as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it, seemingly choosing against whatever he was going to say and returning to his meal.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The weeks pass much quicker than usual, spending less time bored and alone now that you have Remus to pester. Every Monday at breakfast, you wait anxiously for your delivery of The Daily Prophet, practically snatching it out of the air and rifling through it and scouring for any mention of Sirius. There are plenty, of course — constant reminders from the Ministry that they are doing everything they can to locate him.

Nothing interesting really happens, apart from Draco Malfoy throwing such a fit over Hagrid's lesson that his father is practically trying to get the heads of both Hagrid and Buckbeak on the chopping block. You understand that he was hurt...but in a magical world, most injuries are just not worth fretting over when you can pop up to Madam Pomfrey's and she'll have you mended in a minute.

You check up on Hagrid a few times for a quick cup of tea and it's obvious that the incident has shaken him and he's lost most of his excitement for his lessons. You feel awful. Hagrid has too kind of a soul to be subjected to the threats of Lucius Malfoy.

Speaking of which, you notice the uncanny resemblance between Draco and his father. Your distaste for Lucius has been present ever since you went to school together, and do your best not to let that impact the way you treat Draco — even if the fact that he decides to chat for most of his astronomy class while you are talking drives you up the walls. He is only a boy, after all, and we cannot help what values we are raised with and by whom we learn them from.

You really do wish Lucius hadn't passed on that hair to him though. It's a monstrosity.

You sigh as you sit at your desk, reading over your third years' homework. You hum quietly to yourself, Dubh sleeping soundly on your lap as you work.

You give Harry's a glance, ticking the labels scribbled beneath each star, before you find one incorrectly labeled and positioned star that strikes you as familiar. You shuffle through the other students' charts, eventually landing on Ron Weasley's, taking it out and holding it against Harry's in comparison. Same exact mistake and same exact misspelling of 'Gamma Geminorum'.

You chuckle, writing, 'Nice try' on both charts and moving on to the next.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The Halloween feast passes with you and Remus chatting amicably, the Great Hall lit up by floating candle-filled pumpkins, flaming bright orange streamers and clouds of fluttering live bats. And the food — Hogwarts dinners are always something you miss during the summer holidays.

Later that evening, you walk through the hallways back to your room, when you hear Dumbledore yell loudly from the Gryffindor corridor. Confused and curious, you change course and head down the hallway to find a large crowd of students murmuring, all pushing themselves up onto their tippy-toes to see over the heads in front of them.

Dumbledore is at the front with Percy Weasley beside him, so you push through the students to see what all the fuss is about.

The Fat Lady's portrait is void of the woman, replaced by vicious slashes ripping through the canvas, leaving strips fallen on the ground beneath it.

Dumbledore looks at the strips of canvas on the ground, glancing up and noticing you, before his eyes shift to your right and you turn and see McGonagall, Snape and Remus hurrying towards you.

"We need to find her," he says. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" Comes a cackling voice and you immediately know the speaker.

Peeves joyfully bobs over the group of students, blowing a raspberry at one trembling first-year.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore says calmly, and Peeves mischief fades quickly and he takes on a much more professional tone.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he says cheerfully. "Poor thing," he adds, unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asks quietly.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves replies, with a devious expression, as though he's got something truly shocking to reveal. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see."

Peeves flips over, giggling, winking at you through his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter six here!

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

sorry it's been almost a week since last upload! had a bit of writer's block 💔

[calimera62]

Albus Dumbledore: Would you still love me after death?

Gellert Grindelwald: You think that death can take you out of this relationship?

[enigmaf009]

— Harryyyyy…

*Long said Tom, sitting next to Harry, who was reading a book and was so engrossed that he didn't notice Riddle trying to draw attention to himself again.*

------------------------------------------------

— Tom, I'm seriously busy. I can't talk right now.

*Harry replied without taking his eyes off the book, but noticing that Riddle still wouldn't let go.

— "You're always so boring, Potter. Maybe I can make your life more interesting?"

*Tom Riddle smirked, trying to get Harry's attention.

Harry looked up and looked at Tom with bewilderment.

— "Doesn't this guy understand deliberate ignoring?" Thought Potter.

—" Tom, I'm in serious business. I don't want to waste my time with idle chatter. "

*Harry said it with a note of irritation in his voice.*

Tom Riddle smiled again and winked.

— "He sure knows how to annoy me.."

Harry thought as he continued reading his book, trying to ignore Riddle's conversation.

But suddenly Tom said in a mysterious whisper:

—"Harry, you don't realise the powers we could combine if we worked together…"

Harry looked up sharply, his eyes meeting Tom Riddle's dark, enigmatic gaze. For a moment Potter felt something strange happening, but he immediately looked away, sinking back into his book.

----------------------------------------------

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt. 8 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: This is quite possibly the worst idea she's ever had.

words: 3.9 k

warning: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whump. hurt/comfort. descriptions of medical emergencies, hospitals. drug use. coersion. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

this is a darker, messier version of TASM Peter.

18+. you’re responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you don't know anyone who ever stayed out past midnight for a Harry Potter release party, then maybe you should wait to read this.

Back to Part 7.

Part 8

Honey had been lost in thought all morning. Her stomach felt like it was twisted into a pretzel. Anxiety gripped her. And she hadn’t even been in Peter’s presence for the last two hours. 

Instead, she carefully loaded the dishwasher, playing Tetris to try to fit the items in just right. She hated when things were packed unevenly. She almost lost a job as a grocery bagger because of it. Everything had a place, and it felt so relieving to find where they fit. 

This had been her third attempt at loading the dishwasher. She should start it soon. Then she could get to work on taking apart and cleaning the espresso machine. Although she was fairly certain that she’d been the only one that had ever used it.

She felt her muscles lock up as Peter entered the kitchen from the side door. This time, he wasn’t alone. Eddie Brock, or one-way cupcake guy as she referred to him, followed him in. The men looked tense. 

Peter looked like he was sweating, which was odd given the chilly temperature outside. His hair had lost it’s form and was more of a wild mess, having been ravaged by fretting fingers. He tugged at the knot of his tie, shifting around like his shirt was too itchy. Honey instinctively attempted to avoid his gaze, but it was unnecessary. It was as if he refused to look at her.

“Somethin’ came up,” he announced to the whole kitchen. She glanced around just to make sure his only audience was her and the kitchen appliances. 

He slapped his long fingers across his mouth, scratching his beard. “I, uh, I-I gotta go into the city for a bit,” he explained, only making eye contact briefly. “Take care of some stuff.”

She dug a thumb into her palm, nodding wordlessly. 

Her heart raced faster at the thought of what he’d take care of, and whether or not it involved assassinating an elected official. She also considered how strange it was to receive information about his schedule. He was checking in with her, telling her he’d be gone. How oddly domestic. 

“Um, look, Eddie’s gonna stick around, make sure you’re okay,” he explained. The other man’s head snapped up, shooting a stunned glance at Peter. Clearly, it was news to Eddie.

“You serious?” Eddie groaned. “I’m a babysitter now?”

Peter glared at him, and the other man dropped the attitude. “I’ll send Miles’ along tonight,” the boss countered. “I’m sure you can hold out ‘til then, yeah?”

He gulped hard. Peter’s eyes were burning through him. “Right.”

Honey stood quietly, watching the interaction between the two men. She thought about speaking up, arguing that she didn’t need a babysitter. But after everything, she just wanted to be as far away from Peter and his ‘business’ as possible.

As if he could hear her thinking too loudly, Peter turned to her next. He leveled his gaze towards her, eyes dark as night. “You good?” he asked. She nodded quickly, squirming under his sight. He stared right into her soul. “Good,” he said softly, after a pause. He hesitated, focused on her with a tense, suspicious look. 

“Be good,” he added. 

His voice was soft, but the comment was dangerous. It was a warning. It loomed over them with a threatening presence, like a swirling, funnel poking out of a midsummer wall cloud. She bit her lower lip as he turned on his heel and rushed out, his commandment cast down like a god.

Then he was gone. Out of sight. But both of them felt a chill in his wake, as if his gaze was truly omniscient.

Hours passed. If there was one thing Honey was not great with, it was too much time. Too much time allowed her to think. It allowed her to stew. Obsess over the same thoughts, dragging them through her brain until the edges were sharp enough to slice. 

She rested on her back on the couch, staring up at a book in her hands. Good Bones by Maggie Smith. She had read it before. Most of it. Almost made it through to the end. Typical. 

She was forced to delegate herself to short stories and poems. Long novels were too difficult to follow. She’d get too caught up in the details and end up reading the same page over and over. It made English class her least favorite subject, which confounded her mother since supposedly she spoke English.

She thought about Maggie Smith and how Professor McGonagall really was the unsung hero of the Harry Potter books, which she hadn’t read. Not that this Maggie Smith was the same. She knew that. Or she thought so. Probably.

And that was it. She’d lost her place again. Sighing heavily, she slapped the book closed. 

Sitting up, she peered over from her position on the sofa to see Eddie rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” she called.

“Somethin’ to eat,” he grumbled. “Guy’s probably a millionaire, doesn’t he have anything besides Lunchables in his fridge?” 

“There’s some stuff for a salad—”

“I don’t need a salad,” Eddie grumbled to himself. “I need food. Meat. Wings. Like... 49 wings. Or churros, maybe.” She raised a brow at this. Eddie pulled open the freezer door, no doubt spotting the pint of ice cream. “Victory!” he cheered beneath his breath, withholding an elated fist-pump. He pulled open the carton, grabbed a spoon, and dug in like a man starved. Skipped the bowl and ate straight out of the tub.

Curious and bored, she wandered over to the kitchen and sat across from him at the bar. The sounds he made while he ate reverberated in the kitchen. It was disgusting, to be honest. 

He could feel her eyes on him. Judging. “You wan’some?” he stared back at her, annoyed, ice cream dripping from his mouth.

“No,” Honey replied, wiping the offending look off her face. “I’m... I’m good.” It also bothered her that he was eating directly from the carton. It bothered her that he expected her to want to share. That would be like licking the same spoon. He was already halfway finished with the carton, however, so it was likely there wouldn’t be anything left to argue over.

“So...” Her voice trailed off, pleasantly trying to fill the silence. “How long have you been in crime?”

He stopped mid-bite. “You’re, uh... new here, aren’cha?”

She blushed. Always an outsider. It shouldn’t have bothered her that she didn’t fit in, but it did. “Is it that obvious?” she responded, somewhat offended. “How d’you know? I could be a mobster. A mob-lady.”

“Okay, first of all, nobody says that,” he scoffed with a smirk, good-natured about his teasing. He dropped the spoon in the empty carton, leaving it on the counter. She eyed it. Expectantly. And also, conversely impressed. 

“Don’t you get brain-freeze?”

“Gotta big appetite,” he answered idly. Belched. “Pardon.” 

She watched the beefy man wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. She studied him curiously, just as she did at the party. He was the hardest to figure out. He’d kept to himself mostly. Talked to himself, too, she noted.

Eddie stepped up to the counter, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a tiny glass vial filled with some kind of oregano, opening the jar and sniffing it. He reached into the other pocket, retrieving a small packet of beige paper squares. 

It occurred to her suddenly that what was in the jar was probably not oregano. 

Curiously, she watched him pack the delicate cannabis flower into a round metal tin. He twisted the lid, causing it to spill out into a fine, green powder. Meticulously, he tapped the pulverized plant into one of the wrapping papers, lining it up perfectly.

He’d peek up at her every once in a while, biting back mild irritation that she was watching him hawkishly, like they were at a Hibachi restaurant. Once he was finished wrapping and sealing the joint, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a lighter. Lit up. Inhaled deeply. Blew out a pillar of smoke, body and mind relaxing.

She ogled, eyes wide. That would explain his insatiable appetite, she thought.

“You want a hit?” Eddie offered, taking the joint from his lips and reaching it out to her.

“Oh,” she blinked owlishly, staring at the burning bud. “No. No, I don’t do drugs. I-I mean, I haven’t done drugs.”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well, good job just sayin’ no, Nancy Reagan.” She blushed, biting her lip. Eddie course-corrected, softer, “What I meant is ‘do you want to try it now?’”

Eyes like saucers, she stared at the joint like it was a giant, twisting roller coaster she was about to board. “I shouldn’t,” she answered shyly.

Eddie shrugged, putting the joint back in between his lips. “Okay.”

Stuttering, she added, “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer! It’s just… sometimes, I get—like my brain is moving really fast and I think—if I… y’know— what if I wig out, like I start seeing things, and start ranting and raving about being abducted by aliens?”

“Were you abducted by aliens?” He said it seriously, with a full measure of concern.

She blinked. “Not that I am aware...?”

“You’d know.” He took a long drag. “So you’re sayin’ you get anxious? Worried about it makin’ you more anxious, or paranoid. That all depends on the strain. In my experience, it has the opposite effect. Helps me relax.”

“How does that work?”

“My anxiety, or the strain?”

“Both…?”

“Different strains produce different effects. Depends on the strain and your brain chemistry.”

“I didn’t know there were different strains. Like different types—is it like an organic versus not organic thing? With pesticides and stuff? Is that bad? Do you use pesticides, or are you all-natural? I mean, not you, but your weed… um, farmer. Is that more expensive if it’s organic? Like… farm-to-table?”

Eddie let out a long billow of smoke. Red eyes taking stock of her. Reading. Pondering. “I’m also a nervous eater,” he answered.

She nodded, mouth forming an O in response.

They gazed at one another for several seconds, before she added, asking “What’s your take on those Danish butter cookies they sell in those round metal tins?”

He took another puff. “The ones that look like rings taste the best.”

Her eyes lit up, filled with renewed fervor. “Right?! I know! Everyone says I’m crazy and says they all taste the same.”

“Bullshit.”

“Exactly! Thank you!” she heaved a huge sigh of relief, which was utterly inappropriate for the situation to anyone outside of her own head. 

“The rings are my fourth favorite cookie type. Maybe my third.” 

Her head tilted. “What’s your favorite?” 

He blew out another pillar of smoke. “Peanut butter.”

Her eyes darted over to the pantry door across the kitchen. She’d taken full stock of the contents the morning she made breakfast. The tiny smile on her face faltered for a just moment, her wheels spinning.

There it was. Her way out.

Her eyes drifted back to Eddie, as he enjoyed another drag. She licked her lips, and tried to steady her voice. 

“I can make some?” she replied, with a glimmer of hope in her voice.

Eddie froze. His eyes wide.

Peter was out of control. He couldn’t even remember how he got there. It was like teleportation. He blinked and was somewhere else.

Chest heaving, sweat beading at his brow, he only had a vague idea of where he was. A warehouse near the East River. He could smell it. He had less of an understanding of what he was doing there. 

It wasn’t until he saw the looks on the faces of Miguel, Noir, and Hobie did he begin to suspect that something very bad had transpired.

“Christ, Pete…” he heard Miguel mutter beneath his breath.

Peter followed his line of sight to see a broken, barely-breathing body at his feet. Broken in the sense that it was no longer shaped like a human. Instead it was a crimson-coated mass, a wheezing, sloppily-folded lump of bloody clothes. 

Blood was everywhere. Soaked the concrete. Coated the inside of Peter’s nostrils. Splattered across his black leather shoes. His breath hitched at the sight. Gaze trailing to his sticky hands, clutching a twisted tire iron. Warm viscera dripped from the end.

He shuddered, finding it hard to breathe. Like he was drowning. Like blood coated his throat and lungs. Tiny droplets ran down his face like raindrops on a window pane. 

An inhuman groan left the pile of broken man at his feet. Not inhuman in the sense that he’d been born an animal, but in the sense that anything resembling a human had been beaten out of him. He was no longer person-shaped. His being alive was a cruelty at this point. Every ragged breath was a curse.

Peter stepped back away from the destroyed body, tearing onyx eyes from the sight. Seeing the way his men stared back at him— horrified— monster— psycho— parasite— maniac— infection— was equally sickening. He pried each of his fingers away from the bent iron, uncurling the twisted metal from his grip.

“Put ‘em out of his misery,” Peter ordered coldly, swallowing back bile as he stepped away from the body. 

Dazed, he drifted towards the entrance of the shipping terminal as if awakening from a dream. His legs were made of concrete. His head throbbed. Needles pierced his eyes. His stomach twisted and gurgled, and similarly drowned by nausea. 

A single gunshot rang out from behind him and echoed off the metal siding of the surrounding containers. The noise made him wince, the sound causing physical pain that was like taking a cheese grater to his brain. He hissed in agony, and at the same time he relished in it. Wanted more of it. Needed it.

“Boss,” a breathless voice called out to him, stirring him from his haze. He looked over to see Felicia standing next to him, a pensive look on her face. How did he get outside? When did it get dark?

“Just get off the phone with Miles,” she said. 

He tilted his head curiously. Whatever dread in her eyes wasn’t directed at him or his actions, and that surprised him as much as it terrified him.

“It’s your girl,” she grimly informed him. “She’s in an ambulance.”

Just like that. 

Cut to black.

This was not a good plan. Not the worst plan Honey had ever come up with (there was that time she tried cutting her own bangs right before the Eighth Grade Graduation Dance), but it was certainly near the bottom. Impulsive, haphazard, and not well-thought out in the least, it was also fairly on brand.

Those were the things she thought as she was being wheeled into the emergency room of Indian Head Mountain Medical Center. Through red, bleary eyes, she caught a glimpse of a sign with the hospital logo and letters spelling ‘Woodstock, NY’ underneath it. That answered one question. Sort of, since she was unaware of how much time had passed in the ambulance.

It had taken about 30 minutes to locate and assemble the ingredients into plump, doughy, peanut buttery balls. She enlisted Eddie’s help to roll the dough, and showed him how to use a fork to make hash marks. He was both delighted and mesmerized by the action. Soothed, even.

His eyes were bulging with excitement as she explained that they were ready to go into the oven. (In reality, she would’ve let them chill in the refrigerator for about 2 hours and it secretly burned her up inside to rush the process and do a halfass job.) Any more waiting, however, and she was afraid she’d lose her nerve.

When Eddie took the first bite of one of her delicious peanut butter cookies, his eyes rolled up in his head with delight. Soon a big, dopey grin widened his face. He savored and swallowed each bite, drifting into a little slice of heaven. Seeing reactions to her treats had always been a rare highlight of working in the service industry. She loved it.

They were good cookies, she noted, her only complaint being she wished she’d had added more nutmeg. 

About 4 minutes after taking the first bite, her lips began to tingle. 

Within 20 minutes she was a heaving, coughing, snot-covered, teary-eyed mess on the floor, slipping into anaphylactic shock.

Eddie handled it well—

whattheshit are you shittin me are you playin stopplayinrightnow sweartogod is this a joke did fuckinjohnnystorm put you up to this fuuccck i am way too high toofuckinhigh for this shit ohmygoddontyoudieonme don’t you fuckin die he’llfuckinkillme are you playing tellmenow holyshitfuck

—as far as she could tell. Up until she started losing consciousness.

Once the epinephrine kicked in, she quickly lamented an unforeseen flaw in her plan. She hadn’t anticipated the amount of time it would take the swelling in her face to wear down.

“You’re almost there, honey, just stay with us,” a nurse reassured her, glancing down over the edge of the gurney railing to look her in her bloodshot eyes. 

What’s with the nicknames? she wanted to ask. 

Instead, she informed the nurse of her real name, and her current address, and her health insurance provider, who her emergency contact was, her blood type, and the small detail about being kidnapped by a mob boss.

She divulged all of that information, despite her tongue being the size of a soda can. 

As such, it sounded more like, “adf meklp mef nii viin kehhaaaf nigh euh maa yahah gung an aire gaa hilla maaahuhh—”

“Just relax,” the nurse replied sweetly, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Try to save your breath, okay?”

Okay. 

This wasn’t working. She was running out of time.

It took roughly 25 minutes for the additional antihistamine booster to kick in. Her vision had cleared and her breathing had returned to normal. Within the first 30 seconds of being left alone, she rose from the hospital bed, quietly switched off her machines, unhooked her IVs, and slipped away. 

Four minutes later, in a different wing outside of the emergency room, she spotted a group of nurses exiting what appeared to be a break room. The rows of lockers inside confirmed her suspicion. She pulled open each unlocked locker door. On the tenth try, she found a gym bag.

Seven minutes later, she jogged through a back door of the hospital, wearing a pair of men’s joggers that were 10 inches too long for her legs, and an equally oversized NYU hoodie. The real treasures were the cell phone and wallet she was now in possession of. 

She was bursting with energy, and it wasn’t just from steroids. 

The act of escaping a safe house, then escaping an emergency room, then stealing a stranger’s possessions, made her feel not as bad as she would’ve imagined. If she was being honest with herself, she felt pretty good. Better than good. Somewhat invincible. There was a humming buzz beneath her skin, blood rushing and pumping through her body. A flush in her cheeks that hadn’t ever been there before. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird.

It probably wasn’t the epinephrine either.

“911, what is your emergency?” a female dispatcher said through the line. Twenty minutes and a mile and a half later, she was at a payphone near a bus station.

What’s the emergency? she thought. What is the emergency? 

What a loaded question.

A cute boy she had been flirting with at work turned out to be a murderous, mafia ringleader, and had kidnapped her, held her prisoner in his luxury mountain retreat in the Catskills, and had recently divulged to her his plot to kill the Mayor of New York City.

Yes, she needed help, alright. She needed UNICEF. The Red Cross. The Salvation Army. The U.S. Army. Every army, all of them, right now. Send everyone.

“Ma’am, I need you to slow down. Just tell me where you are,” the voice on the other end replied.

Oh, shit. She said all that aloud?

She shuddered, finding it hard to breathe. Like she was drowning. She had only a vague understanding of where she was. Her brain and mouth were moving out of sync. 

Eyes darting around, frenzied, expecting to find Peter standing behind her. 

Not Peter, perhaps, but some roughneck caricature of a goon wearing a long overcoat and a fedora. Or a caricature of Peter wearing a long overcoat and a fedora. Would it be the monster, or her friend? Would he be Prince Charming or Scarface? 

More terrifying, what if he was actually someone worse?

She paused, considering with worry. “No, listen to me! You need to get to 1630 Revello Drive, Apartment 2B, in-in Long Island City. Please!”

“Can you tell me your name?” the voice asked. She stopped her lips before any more words could come out. 

The ghosts of Peter’s story haunted her mind, sending shivers down her spine. Without another word, she hung up the phone, staring at it like it had cursed her. 

Peter was... troubled. Without a doubt. Emotionally dysfunctional, possibly. Batshit crazy, for sure. But was he wrong to be paranoid? 

More terrifying, what if he was actually right?

A disheartening dread settled into her bones. Her limbs felt heavy, like they were made of concrete. 

She needed to get home. Fast.

Four hours and 45 minutes later, after two buses, three trains, and the setting of the winter sun, she was standing across the street from the apartment building at 1630 Revello. She shivered in the freezing air, but not from the temperature. The quiet outside was nothing in comparison to the cacophony inside her mind. 

She hated coming to this street.

The windows on the southern corner of the second story had its blinds closed tight. Warm light illuminated them from behind. She chewed her lip anxiously, trying to simultaneously talk herself into moving forward and running in the opposite direction. 

The thought of the horrible fate suffered by Nasrin and Leyla compelled her to move forward. She inhaled sharply, trying to calm her racing pulse, and exhaled slowly. Took a step forward into the street. And another, and another, and another. Each one building confidence that she didn’t have before. Each one a reminder of where she had been and how far she had come.

Forward. Always forward. 

Forward. 

Until the tires of a black Chevy Tahoe screeched to a stop an arm’s length in front of her, nearly hitting her. Stunned by almost having been run over by an SUV—pay attention to what you’re doing, stupid girl — her feet rooted to the ground. Indignation quickly took over, as she glowered at the vehicle furiously. 

“Watch where you’re goin’!” she barked with a tone she wasn’t used to hearing coming from herself. Her chest puffed up, and she felt like she’d grown half a foot in stature. 

The driver of the vehicle, a dark-skinned man in his 30s, with his curly hair styled neatly into a short fro, simply glared at her through the window. She shot daggers at him with her stare. The newfound boldness she possessed suggested she should drag him out of the vehicle and give him a piece of her mind. 

Until the rear door opened.

The man that emerged rendered her motionless. Rendered her useless. Helpless. Heart pounding. Muscles locking in place. Throat seizing up. Anaphylaxis all over again. 

She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. The monster she fought so hard to escape had found her.

“Heya, sweetheart,” her husband sneered, tone dripping with malice. “Long time, no see.”

Continue to Part 9

a/n this one is a shortie, but a goodie. or is it? you tell me. what do you think? just a heads up, the next few chapters are going to deal with some heavy stuff. make sure you read the warnings! love you all, and thank you thank you thank you for your amazing notes!

reblog to be tagged! (since there are over 100 of you its hard to keep track). if i missed you, let me know!

[sitp-recs]

Hey Liv,

My friend had the most chaotic day today. She left on holiday and ended up packing at the last minute. Cue bags overflowing in every room, a dog to get into the car, a kid to pick up at daycare and no time to spare.

THEN her husband’s car broke down so she had to go pick him up almost two hours away with both dog and baby in the backseat….

All this so say: she might need a pick me up.

Do you have a Drarry rec where either of them (or both) are absolute chaos/ are under a bad luck spell /…?

Love love love ❤️

Omg your poor friend! 😱 I’m sorry things have been wild for her, that sounds super stressful and overwhelming! I hope everything was okay in the end. This story actually led to a really interesting ask, I did a mix of curses, pranks and bad luck with a touch of angst at the end - hope they work for what you’re looking for!

Humor/Fluff:

Bad Luck, Red Pants, and Broken Washing Machines by @the-starryknight (T, 2k)

After his five year sentence of magical suppression, Draco Malfoy got used to working without his wand. It's just days like today when nothing seems to be going right that he regrets his life in the Muggle world.

Special Affinity by @skeptiquewrites (E, 4k)

Auror partners Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy seem to have a special affinity for getting into convoluted accidental bonds. Once is a mistake, twice is bad luck, and five times...well five times seems like carelessness, doesn’t it?

Bubbles, Baths, and Bad Luck by manixzen (E, 5k)

A poisonous potion covering Professor Potter nearly head-to-toe would normally be a pretty big deal. It should be as bad as his day gets. But that’s before he’s informed that the cure involves a steamy, hot bath with an unrequited crush.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (E, 21k)

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

At the Crossroads There We’ll Meet by firethesound (E, 24k)

Potter keeps dying; Draco keeps saving him.

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry never thought taking a job as Draco Malfoy's bodyguard was going to be easy. Add in a curse that makes Malfoy even more of an obnoxious git than usual, and Harry's got serious problems.

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by @eidheann, @firethesound (E, 36k)

After transferring to the Apparition Department, Harry's life becomes one big dick joke. And all his friends are arseholes. So is Malfoy, but what else is new? AKA Harry Potter and the eighteen twenty dicks.

Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by Faith Wood (E, 38k)

Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

Skybound by @xanthippe74 (T, 61k)

No matter how much Harry Potter wanted to believe he’d left danger behind when the war ended, it found him again anyway. All he had to do was step out his own front door on a Tuesday morning. A Drarry re-imagining of Howl’s Moving Castle.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Angst:

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

[prideprejudce]

Ok so I never understood when Miranda says, "you already have" why Andy going to Paris was such a betrayal. I mean, Emily broke her leg so going on a strenuous business trip doesn't seem viable. It's not like Andy ran her over with a car. Can you explain?

The Paris offer that Miranda gave to Andy was basically another test to see how capable Andy is to survive in the fashion industry. Miranda wanted to see if she was still dealing with the old mousy Andy who wouldn’t dare to assert her way to the top or the new Andy who wasn’t afraid to rise to the occasion to secure her position at Runway. Basically, the old Andy was afraid to step on anyone’s toes and happy being pushed around by her peers. Miranda wanted to see if she was capable of handling rising higher in the company, even if that included stepping over others if necessary

But honestly, I don’t know what else Andy was supposed to do in that situation. Miranda not only told Andy that if she didn’t go to Paris that she wasn’t serious about her position at runway BUT also her future career as a writer. This subtle line shows exactly how powerful Miranda is. Not only would Andy’s job at runway be at jeopardy but also her chances of networking to other writing jobs as well. Miranda is the chief executive of Runway fashion (parallel to vogue fashion), she has the power to pick up the phone and basically have Andy blacklisted from every major writing magazine in New York if she really wanted to.

So what was Andy supposed to do? Refuse to go to Paris and lose her job and career? For Emily? Someone who isn’t even her friend? Who if put in Andy’s situation wouldn’t have hesitated for a second to bench her so she could go to Paris? Because Emily wanted clothes from Paris?

Let’s also not forget the fact that simply put, by the last half of the movie, it’s pretty apparent that Andy is better at her job than Emily is. Miranda doesn’t go out of her way to psychologically test Andy just for her own amusement, but because she knows that Andy is the better option to have with her during fashion week. Andy is competent, clever, and gets shit done no matter how many obstacles present themselves. Her pulling the harry potter manuscript was a HUGE turning point of her capabilities in Miranda’s eyes. Simply put, she was offered the Paris trip because she earned it and was the better option over Emily.