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risingoftime · 1 year

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𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 & 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 | 𝖗𝖎𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

part i | part ii

thank ya'll for the requests! I know I’m a slow writer, but I really do enjoy your feedback & currently working on another request so keep an eye out.

synopsis: Riri decides to surprise you at your place after exams and exposes that she has studied you more than you initially thought.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: smut, light dom sub, scissoring, brat!reader, fingering, daddy issues, closeted!reader, praise kink, confessed feelings, light fluff, tribbing, obsessive!Riri, blackmail.

18+ | minors do not interact

➴ feel free to send me more thots

Your palms were sweating when you handed in the exam papers to Professor Winston. Riri was done within the first hour of the exam. Typically you followed suit shortly after but not this time. Instead, you spent all the allotted time-fighting flashbacks from the night before at the library with Riri. “I hope you remember all that I taught you.” Her taunting was still fresh in your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was her master plan. An embodiment of the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You felt foolish for allowing yourself to become vulnerable under her gaze, but you did not regret a thing. Although it did take you extravagantly longer than you had expected, you still felt semi-confident that you would still pull through with top scores. Using Riri’s techniques for analyzing equations, it’s possible. However, professor Winston threw in a surprise bonus question that kept me in a loop. The bonus question wrote:

“Given the possibility of building structures for coastal protection against erosion and sea level rise, which dexterous compound is essential for its utilization?”

It was odd, considering that it was rare for him to discuss underwater robotics in his lectures. Your mind wracked over the questions as you walked through the paths on campus toward the parking lot. You set the alarm for later this evening to ensure that you didn’t miss the postings of our grades. Professor Winston often was able to submit grades within the same day. We were a freakishly small class, and it was an advanced course that not many dared to take. Most took it because it would look good on their transcripts. You scanned the busy grounds of MIT, and Riri was nowhere to be seen. That girl was always on the go. Besides, you had more pressing tasks to complete now that the semester was complete, for example, packing for Chicago. You rarely talked to your family during the school year, and you knew that if you stayed during another school break, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

MIT was lively today, with students pushing their hefty suitcases and boxes from the dormitory. You were so glad your Dad got you your loft as an MIT acceptance gift, one of the perks of being the daughter of a wealthy politician. At MIT, you’re free to be yourself and cultivate a person who isn’t constantly scrutinized—having your own space away from curious eyes and individuals trying to use anything against my Father in re-elections. You doubt people from back home would even recognize the person you are now. It’s partially the reason why you haven’t visited home yet. Your Dad is a businessman first and a Father second. Once you do return, you will have to hide away the part of you that flourished at MIT. It was a deal you were willing to make, but now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the bargain. To portray yourself as the perfect eldest daughter at the top of her class at MIT. If only you weren’t in the same class as Riri. Academically, you’ve always been beneath her, never indeed in the same league.

You walked into your apartment and were greeted by the cool air conditioning. You took time to get settled in and stripped out of your clothes to change into something more comfortable. As soon as you got into bed, the phone rang. You looked to see who it was, but the number was unknown. Your Father often called with no caller ID due to his job, so you answered it without a second thought.

“Hey!”

“Hey, open the door for me.” Again, it was a female voice that you recognized.

“Who is this?”

“Who do you think it is? Dummy,” she laughed.

You sprouted out of your bed and walked to the door. You looked through the peephole and saw Riri standing in the same grey tracksuit she had worn to the exams in the morning. Out of all the ways to get your attention, she decided this was best?

“What the fuck, Riri? How the hell did you get here?”

“I’m a master engineer specializing in robotic sciences, and you don’t think I can’t bypass a basic apartment security system?” Her tone was dry and sarcastic. Riri had a way of coming off as a know-it-all, and it got on your last nerves, especially when she was right.

“Okay, but that doesn't explain how you found out where my apartment is.”

“Hacking into the MIT student record system is easier than you think, and you’re more interesting than I initially thought,” she shrugged. However, the knowing smile on Riri’s face never dissipated.

“Why do I feel like you’re hiding something?” You didn’t make any moves to unlock your door. Instead, you enjoyed making her wait on you in the hallway.

“Well, if you just let me in, I will tell you what I found. Or, I could tell your Dad about our escapades at the library last night.” Riri’s expression was smug. You wouldn't be surprised if she heard you struggle to unlock the door. You pushed it open to invite her inside and made sure that she saw you flip her off as you did so. You led her to the living room and didn’t bother to spare her another glance.

You instructed her to sit down and shut up. You no longer had the patience to sweeten my tone. All your nerves dissipated once she brought up snitching to my Father. Of course, out of all people, it would be her who would be able to find out your secret. You've done your best to keep a low profile until yesterday; you thought you did. You would have never believed that Riri Williams had always had her eye on you. We were approaching our last year after this summer break, and it’s just now that she’s decided to show her interest.

“If you dare tell my Dad a single word about last night, I swear I will make it my vendetta to ruin you,” you sneered. You couldn’t afford your Father to know anything about your antics at MIT. All he needed to know is that you have one of the highest GPAs in your class, with solid recommendations from your professors to prove it. Your Dad only cared to hear that I was living up to his reputation and status. Truthfully, you didn’t know when you would have this freedom again and wanted to salvage every second of it.

Riri raised her eyebrows at me and said, “Is that a threat or a promise?” silently challenging me to see how far you’ll go to prove my point. “Both,” I replied. She whipped out her phone, playfully toying around with it in a suggestive manner.

“Let’s play a little game.”

“Riri, I’m not playing with you.”

“How do you think he would react to hearing that daddy’s little girl likes to be bent over by girls?” She kept her phone in her hands, and you couldn’t fight the impulse to knock it out of her hand. Riri hasn’t met a person like you, cause that’s exactly what you did. You watched the phone fly out of her hand and slide across the hardwood floor toward your bedroom. The shattering noise of the telephone elicited silence between the both of you. For a split second, you felt guilty, but at least now she couldn’t blackmail you.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that” Riri got up from the couch to walk towards your bedroom to analyze the damage to her phone. You followed her to see if it worked and were shocked to see the shattered front screen. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to break,” Riri looked up at you with narrowed eyes, and you braced yourself for what came next.

“You know, you still haven’t returned the favour from yesterday. And now that it seems that I have to get a new phone….” Riri trailed off, too busy hooking her fingers in the band of your shorts to tug you closer. “Oh, I see. So this is what you’ve come all this way for,” you swatted her hands away but didn’t take a step back. Her face was dangerously close to yours, and you could feel her minty breath fan your face. Your heartbeat picked up as the flashbacks from last night clouded your mind. The familiar butterflies returned to remind you of your lust for Riri. You became acutely aware of how close the bed was to both of you, and all that it took was a push from Riri for you to fall on top of the sheets.

“Well, you did say, and I quote, ‘we’re not done yet,’ and I’m just a woman of my word. I would hope you are too” Her hands returned to my waist, and this time you let her. Riri whispered in your ear, “you remember everything that I taught you last night?” her lips grazed against my earlobe and traced down my jaw. Your voice was barely conceivable as you whispered, “Yes.” Riri had a way of making you speechless just by the grace of her touch. She made you forget your words and worries. Subconsciously you moved your head to the side, urging her to go down further, but she paused.

“lay down on the bed for me,” her command was cold but soft. You pulled your head back to make eye contact with her. Riri’s stare was unwavering. She raised her eyebrows, prompting you to listen to her demand, “I’m waiting.” You descended slowly to the clean white sheets and went to the middle of the bed to lay on your side. You were unsure where this was going but still excited to see what she would ask of you next. There was a thrill that came from relinquishing control to Riri. The tension between you is undeniable. Riri broke eye contact briefly to rake over your body, taking in your curves and supple soft skin. She couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch first. To have the girl she’s fantasized about genuinely alone and to herself sent Riri over the edge.

“Are you going to do something or just keep staring?” you rolled your eyes feigning attitude although you were a ball of nerves. Riri took off her sweatshirt, revealing her toned upper body and Nike sports bra. You never knew that Riri was this athletic as she wore loose-fitting clothes to lectures. Last night at the library was just the beginning, now that you had the privacy to do everything that crossed your mind. Riri thought about all the positions she wanted to put you in and the noises she’ll cause you to make.

Riri strolled to your dresser and leaned against it so that she was parallel to you. “I want you to strip, slowly,” Riri said. Your eyes widened from shock. You’ve never stripped for another person before. In many instances, you’ve been the dominant one, but with Riri, that wasn’t the case. “What? I can’t do that” you crossed your arms across your chest to attempt to create a barrier from Riri’s sensual gaze. “Sure you can, or do you need me to help you?” her smile widened with her question. “No- no need, I’m capable of undressing myself” at that moment, you were thankful that you kept your black lace bra on underneath your oversized t-shirt. Otherwise, you already would’ve been left bare.

Unclasping the front of your bra came quickly; luckily, this was the one time you didn’t struggle with it. Your hands shielded your breast from view. The cool air left goosebumps along your skin. “Don’t cover yourself. You’re beautiful,” Riri whispered. You hesitantly dropped your hands for her. Riri’s mouth practically watered at sight. Riri felt the familiar pool of wetness in between her thighs. Watching you half-naked and vulnerable turned her on in ways she couldn’t explain. She badly ached to have you underneath her. Once your shorts are off, exposing the matching pair of panties. Riri could no longer keep her hands to herself. She separated your legs to lay between them, using one hand to massage your nipple and her mouth sucking on the other. The sensation of her tongue raised the hairs on the back of your neck. A barely audible moan escaped your lips as Riri’s fingers traced the outline of your folds. Riri took her time stroking you, running her index and middle finger to gather your slickness to massage your clit. You rolled your hips to urge her to rub against you harder, yet her touch remained gentle. The fabric of your underwear dampened as she continued.

“Fuck” Riri lifted her head from your breasts and lazily dragged her tongue to your neck. Savouring the flavour of your skin as she dipped her two fingers inside you. “Your pussy takes me in so well” Riri was amazed at how wet you could get for her. Her fingers slid in deeper easily, opening your legs wider for Riri to get better access. Riri whispered sweet praises against your lips as her fingers pushed deeper inside you. Internally, Riri felt like it was a sin not to worship your body over and over again. Pressure built within you to the point you were unsure how much longer you could hold out until you spilled over in her palms. “How do you like that?” She muttered in the crane of your collarbone before leaving a mark on your neck with her mouth. Riri’s teeth focused on a particular spot on your nape. Your moans blurred into each other as she increased her pace and began pumping her fingers inside of you with force.

“Oh, I fucking love it. Please keep going.” Your walls clenched around her fingers. Riri let out a low groan from the feeling of your pussy wrapped around her. “That’s it, baby.” She curled her hand slightly, sunk her digits inside, and settled them there. Riri writhed them with every roll and thrust until she found your G spot. You thought to yourself, she’s the best you’ve ever had. But when you opened your eyes to look at Riri, you realized that you might have said it aloud. “Has anyone fucked you like this before?” Riri playfully nipped at your ear before she kissed you in a way you hadn’t experienced before. Riri moved with a need and hunger that none of your past partners possessed. “Only you, Riri,” you moaned against her lips.

Riri watched your face contort and twist in euphoria. No longer able to silence your moans, you began to call out her name. You arched your back to rub your breasts against her chest, and the sensation caused Riri’s nipples to harden. Riri wanted to taste your pussy on her tongue but held off on her desires until she fulfilled yours. She remained relentless while fingering you, ignoring the dull ache from her wrist. Riri was enamoured with you. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably as you felt yourself reach your peak. “I’m cumming” you sobbed into Riri’s shoulder as your cunt dripped off her fingers. It truly felt like, at that moment, the Earth stopped on its axis while you drowned out the room with your noises.

Riri pulled out her fingers, leaving a wet trail on the sheets. She licked up the remnants of your cum off of her, “you taste amazing,” she sighed. You hummed in satisfaction, still fresh with bliss from your orgasm. Riri snaked her arms around you to encase you against her body. She flipped the both of you so that she now laid on her back with you on top of her. Riri’s heartbeat was loud and fast. She tried to slow it down, but the excitement of having you naked flushed against her didn’t help. You glanced up at Riri through your eyelashes and felt a surge of confidence to take the lead. If Riri could tell you what to do, why couldn’t you do the same?

You toyed with the band of her tights, sliding your fingertips along the hems and watching as Riri’s chest rose and fell with each breath she took. “Take these off.” you playfully pulled at the pants making Riri smile at your urgency.

“Since when do you call the shots?” Riri was taken aback by your command. She had always been the giver, the more dominant one of all her partners. She mainly gained pleasure from pleasing others, but that didn’t mean Riri didn’t want you to do the same to her. You ignored her question with your own statement, “We both know you’re good at following instructions.” She laughed at that. Riri enjoyed that you could still banter with her in your most intimate moments. She pushed her hips upwards to pull down her pants and kicked them off the bed. “This too.” you tapped her chest, indicating for Riri to remove her sports bra. Again, you pushed off her to provide space to take it off and couldn’t help but admire her body in all its glory. Once fully exposed, you laid on top of her again, adjusting your limbs so that your center was perfectly aligned. You moaned, “You're already so wet” Riri could cum from the view of you riding her pussy alone. Glancing down where your pussy kisses hers, your wet folds gliding against the other. The movements between you made the most obscene noises.

The sensation of you getting pleasure from Riri pushed her to ecstasy. Her moans filled the room as you grinded against each other tirelessly, trying to increase tension on your clits. “You hear that, baby? Listen to how wet you make me. This pussy is mine.”

Mine. Something about Riri calling you hers made your heart flutter. She gripped your ass as she rolled her hips to keep the rhythm with your body. Thrusting her pussy into you over and over… until the need for release became unbearable. Then, with one last brush over her sensitive bud, Riri’s cum pooled onto the white cashmere sheets. Your name rolled off her lips like she had been on the verge of tears for the first time. In many ways, you are the first to see her in her most precious moments. You cuddled together in the bed with your hands intertwined.

Riri turned onto her side to look at you, “do you know that I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night? I kept daydreaming about you in that skirt, how you struggled to silence your moans. I could barely think straight. I wanted to call you, but I forgot to get your number, so I-“

“So you hacked into MIT's student records? You’re crazy!” You couldn’t help but laugh at it all. It was possible that you could’ve been out of your mind as well because the thought of her rummaging through MIT systems, risking her scholarship to find you, made you even more attracted to her. “You can call me crazy, but I’ll do it all over again to find you.” Her hands caressed your thighs in an attempt to soothe your shaky legs. Your alarm went off, making the both of you jump a bit. The phone blared from the living room. “Our exam results!” You got up so quickly that you almost kicked Riri in the process.

Rushing back into bed, you unlocked your phone to review your results to see that you passed your exam with a 95. Thank God! it wasn’t as bad as you initially thought. Riri gauged your reaction and shyly asked, “So, what did you get?” You felt apprehensive about sharing your grade.

“You tell me yours, and then I’ll tell you mine,” you stated.

Riri rolled her eyes and laughed, “You broke my phone! I can’t see my grades until later.”

“Here, use mine.” You logged out of your student account and handed it over to Riri. You watched her closely as she did so, darting your eyes from her face to the screen. “I got a 95,” she admitted.

“Wait… we got the same grade? How is that possible? Did you complete the bonus question?” the questions came out of you a mile a minute. A big part of you was in disbelief that you shared the same grade with Riri. Finally.

“You got a 95? That’s amazing! I should tutor you more often.” Riri jokingly nudged you with her elbow, with a cocky smile on her face.

“And, to answer your last question, I didn’t bother answering the bonus question,” she shrugged.

“Why?” you asked.

“I’ve learned that just because you know the correct answer to a question doesn’t mean you have to respond,” she said. You felt like you were missing out on crucial information that would’ve helped you understand what she was talking about. However, Riri cut you off before you could even speak. “Look, trust me. I know from experience. Somethings are better left unsaid.” She wasn’t in the mood to discuss Professor Winston's planted question in the exam. Riri was well aware of her mistake of giving too much information about her underwater inventions. The memory of Namor still plagued her dreams. “A scientist should never reveal their secrets” she whispered. Then, looking down at you, Riri promised she would keep yours too.

#riri fic #black panther #wakanda forever #mcu shuri #wakanda forever spoilers #mcu risingoftime #shuri #shuri fic #riri williams smut #riri smut #riri x fem reader #riri x reader #marvel #scissoring smut #wlw smut #ironheart x reader #ironheart #riri x black!reader

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charonean · 12 days

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I've seen the art of Szereban-Webber family and so far only understood they are characters from your dnd campaign? Like honestly they look very cool and I would love to know all about them so I hope I did not miss some post with their backstories or anything because I would just love to ask in very generic sense who they are? What's their story? Who are they? Sorry if you'd like to get some more specific questions I've just came here, saw your cool little guys and I'm intrigued

Thank you for your ask!!

We haven't actually posted any proper lore for them yet, so I'll share it here.

For context, my character is Jonas Webber, otherwise known as Lore. His husband is Niles Szereban (aka Partisan), created by @doonthestair. They have two kids: Magnus (Alterity) by @freckleshine007 and Evangeline (Agency) by @viridianvales.

From the point of view of my character, he was a tiefling born to human parents in a formerly aristocratic family. Tieflings weren't uncommon in their family, so he was raised pretty normally. His mother died when he was a young teenager, and he later moved out to pursue a degree in history. From there he went on to a Masters and then a PhD. During the last year of his PhD, as he was repressing a lot of things at that point (specifically the fact that he was gay), he ended up in a relationship with a young woman named Cordelia (Prudence) who was working on her Masters in Business. She became pregnant with their first child, a daughter named Antonia (later, Resolve). He became a professor of history, and later also had a second child, a son named Wesley (later, Loyalty). However, Prudence was having an affair with her boss (she was a secretary) for most of their marriage, and both were incredibly unhappy in their relationship, but didn't divorce one another because of societal expectations. At some point, Jonas has a bit of a midlife crisis and starts studying magic, finding himself making deals with a genie named Manahimeko (as a dnd character, he's a mix between a wizard and the 3.5 prestige class Malconvoker that has been modified a bit).

Eventually, Niles Szereban was hired as a professor of Criminal Justice at the university Jonas taught at. Niles was a former prosecutor who was disbarred following a public affair with a judge in a high profile case. When Jonas first met Niles, he was rather annoyed because he realised that he quite liked the other man, but he was still repressing a lot of things at that time, so they didn't interact. Later, however, they had to work together as they were often called to meetings to discuss requirements for the Politics degree (where their fields overlapped) and they got to know one another.

One night, Niles and Jonas go out to a bar, just drinking and talking, and Jonas gets really drunk and kisses Niles. However, Niles doesn't do anything further and Jonas forgets about that night. A couple of weeks later, they're talking late into the night again, and Niles notices that Jonas is looking intensely at his lips and they end up making out one more time. This progresses into something more and ultimately leaves Jonas with the conclusion that he has to leave his wife.

From here, Jonas and Niles eventually marry one another once Jonas' divorce has gone through (he got custody of Resolve; Prudence got custody of Loyalty and eventually married her boss with whom she was having an affair). Through surrogacy, Jonas and Niles have their first child, Magnus (later, Alterity). When Magnus is a year old, Jonas decides to put away his serious pursuit of magic and binds Manahimeko to a cane he created, sealing her away in a demiplane. This leaves him with what is known as the Fantasy Cataract™ which blinds him partially in general (for context, he has shit vision already, so he's Not vibing) and to things within Manahimeko's domain (namely water, but also anything currently imbued with her magic, such as the cane itself). When Magnus is 7, he sneaks into Jonas' office and steals the cane and becomes blind and bound in a pact to her.

When Magnus makes the pact, he wishes for a sibling because he is lonely, and eventually the Szereban-Webbers adopt a young girl named Evangeline (later, Agency) who was a tiefling born to human parents but cast out. She went from home to home, facing much discrimination, before making a deal with a genie named Idalia so that she could find a family. Jonas and Niles adopted her, and they all became a family.

The story then follows Alterity and Agency as they learn more about magic and the genies. At some point, Manahimeko breaks lose and wishes to cause chaos upon the world, and Jonas needs to stop her. In sealing her away, back in the cane, he dies. This leave Niles, Alterity, and Agency scrambling to pick up the pieces and actually solve the problem as Manahimeko has only been delayed, not stopped entirely.

This is essentially the whole story. We've all worked out some more, and, personally, my current obsession is this au we made where Jonas doesn't actually die but is rather sealed away in the cane for a year before he breaks out and returns to his family. But that doesn't fit within the larger narrative, so it's only an au.

Yeah! That's the story! Hope it makes sense lol. I am ever so slightly tipsy right now (coming out of being properly drunk), so I can only hope this is coherent.

#ask #anonymous #Szereban-Webber family #Lore [Jonas Webber]

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bazzybelle · 3 years

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Magical Equality Within The World of Mages

I’ve been thinking a lot since I finished reading Any Way The Wind Blows, and there are SO many things that I still need to process. I took my time with reading it, I’ve listened to the audiobook and I plan on re-reading it several times, once I move into my new house and have THAT stress done and over with. I cannot wait to re-read it on my back porch with some iced tea and a notebook to annotate and comment on pretty much everything that gave me feelings.

But for now, there is one massive issue that I want to address, and it plays into the plot for all three books.

Warning for those who have not read Any Way The Wind Blows, this post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution. I am tagging this appropriately, but adding an extra warning just in case.

Huge thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for reading this over and making sure I didn't sound like a rambling mess.

The World of Mages is an incredibly toxic place! This is especially true for anyone who isn’t a magical powerhouse, or stupid rich.

I’m going to not focus on the obvious socio-economic bullshit, because I’m not familiar enough with the British class system to properly comment on it. But if anyone wants to add onto this with a whole meta like that, please do so!

Instead, I’m going to focus on magic use and how detrimental it can be to grow up in this world if you aren’t one of the few who are blessed with the RIGHT kind of magic (I say right kind of magic for a reason, and I’m going to come back to that). I want to focus my attention on three characters (two of whom were drawn into Smith-Richard’s fake promises, and one who was just fed up with it all): Martin Bunce, Daphne Grimm, and Agatha Wellbelove.

1) Martin Bunce: We first hear about Martin Bunce in Carry On. He’s Penny’s dad, a renowned scholar and is leading a team researching the effects of the Insidious Humdrum. He’s a highly respected individual, in his own right. Penny adores him, she only speaks his praises, and I get the feeling she gets along better with Martin, then she does with Mitali. When Penny needs help with Shep’s curse, she trusts her dad to help her after her mother flat out refuses.

While Martin is respected in the community, he isn’t a magical powerhouse. In fact, he isn’t very powerful at all. Baz makes a cheeky little comment about how he must have come from mundanity with a name like “Bunce”, and he doesn’t teach any magical classes at Watford, he focuses mainly on Linguistics.

Professor Bunce is one of the people taken in by Smith-Richard’s message, and I’m kind of glad he is. It shows that Smith-Richard’s message can reach anyone, even someone as scholarly and learned as Martin. Martin Bunce is intelligent, loving, devoted, and the apple of his family’s eye. But, when push comes to shove, all that does not matter because in the end, he isn’t as magically powerful as his wife and kids. How many times has Martin been compared to his wife? How many times has he been compared to his kids? What was it like going to Watford and having to hear about how you barely scraped by in the magical classes? His whole family is obsessed with magic, his daughter's best friend is the Most Powerful Mage. Martin is constantly surrounded by people making comments about power and magic and being strong enough as a magician.

That stuff stays with you... So when you see someone performing magic that can pull you to your full potential, of COURSE you grab onto it and hope that it’s a real thing.

Something interesting to note here; Towards the end of AWTWB, Martin casts a drinking spell, and Baz makes a comment about anyone who could cast that spell in quick succession doesn’t need a power-up. Now, was Martin truly not powerful, or did he just not have the right type of magic? Could he have been a better magician if he was able to find the right situations where his magic responded better? If he was allowed to learn in a way where his magic could have reached its full potential, without the use of a horrible curse?

I have a teaching background, and I’ve worked with a lot of kids in Inclusive Education. I’ve had to differentiate practically all of my lesson plans so that all the kids in my classroom would understand the lesson and be able to reach the goals outlined for them. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve taught, but I look at stuff like this in the World of Mages and my teaching ear perks up.

2) Agatha Wellbelove: Another person who comes to mind, especially with not having the right kind of magic is Agatha Wellbelove. Agatha does not see herself as a very strong magician. She tells Simon that magic for her is like holding a muscle. Pair that up with a mother who is OBSESSED with magic and power and who’s got the most power, and which magical matches will bring about powerful children, and you get someone who becomes resentful of the whole effing thing! I’m not even going to touch the whole “dating the Chosen One” thing because that’s a whole other can of worms.

When we first meet Agatha, she’s already fed up with magic, and wants nothing to do with it, and I can’t say I blame her. She spends all of Wayward Son running away from magic, and meandering through life, being still so unsure of herself and of her place in the world. She calls herself a poor excuse for a magician, yet she manages to save both herself and Penny from the NowNext by summoning fire! That’s a huge flipping deal! Not everyone can do that, yet Agatha is able to summon the power inside herself to do so! Imagine the wonderful magic she could have done if she was taught in a way that spoke to her.

In AWTWB, she is the ONLY person who is able to get through to the Goats. Her magic seems to be connected to nature (if I had to guess). The Dryad, all the way back in Carry On, tells Simon that she and the others find Agatha “peaceful”. That’s her magic. Agatha was able to come full circle by finding peace with the magic she has. She was able to find a place for it. What’s sad is that she felt the need to run away and not want to have it in her life anymore. Her magic is beautiful, yet not enough.

3) Daphne Grimm: So, this is the character that stood out to me the most. Daphne is the reason I even wanted to write this commentary. Those of you who know me, know that I adore this character. Partly because, I’m obsessed with the idea that Baz has people looking out for him and who care about him.

Anyway, Ms. Daphne Grimm is the apple of my eye essentially. I love her, I adore her, and she is treated SO UNFAIRLY by the World of Mages.

What do we know about Daphne? She is Baz’s stepmum, and has four kids with Malcolm. From the first book, there are snarky little comments about Daphne’s lack or power and magic. Baz himself makes a shitty comment about how Daphne’s “blood is as thin as gruel”, even though Daphne goes out of her way to make sure he’s got food sent to his room. She’s extra careful in making sure Baz feels safe in his own home. She suggests to Malcolm that Baz should see a therapist for everything he’s been through, making her the ONLY parent who not only acknowledges her child’s trauma, but tries to do something about it!

She is a GOOD mom!

Ok, we know that Baz wears a ton of masks of indifference in Carry On, and he softens up tremendously in Wayward Son, calling her lovely while teaching him to drive a car.

We learn a lot about Daphne in Any Way The Wind Blows. Namely that Fiona has some pretty nasty opinions about her. (That comment about her kids not being legitimate, and that she’s as “thick headed as she is thin blooded”. Now, imagine you’re Daphne, and the widower of the Great Natasha Pitch asks to marry you. That’s already some MASSIVE shoes to fill. You accept, and you do the best you can, taking care of his son and being a positive presence in his life, meanwhile going to all these posh functions where EVERYONE talks about power and magic. Then to have the sister of your husband’s first wife make snarky comments about your level of power and magic.

That stuff sticks with you.

Daphne doesn’t want her kids going to Watford, the ONLY magical school in the UK (as far as we know). She wants her children to succeed and be known for everything they are capable of doing, instead of being ridiculed for all the ways they’ll come up short. According to Baz, the only reason Daphne graduated from Watford was because she was smart enough to pass every exam (yet, Fiona still makes snarky comments about her intelligence).

Daphne is well aware of how painful it can be to live in the World of Mages and not be a powerhouse magician. Like Martin, she takes matters into her own hands and seeks out a way to make herself more powerful.

It is heartbreaking to look at these three amazing, beloved characters, and think about the suffering they have had to endure by their peers. Both Daphne and Martin get frustrated when those around them question their choice to follow Smith-Richards, stating “you don’t know what it’s like”. Luckily for Daphne, Baz makes an effort to actually understand her, and doesn’t judge her. Even when Fiona mocks her, Baz defends his stepmum. When Daphne berates herself and compares herself to Natasha, Baz reflects on how Natasha would have killed him (something Daphne would NEVER do to any of her children).

We know that Watford did not allow magical creatures, or differently-abled magicians (I use this term for a reason) to study there until the Mage came around and allowed everyone into Watford. This was a great thing, because now, every magical child was given the opportunity to learn how to speak with magic.

However, it should not have stopped there. I spoke earlier on differentiation and on finding the right place for everyone’s magic. What if magicians like Martin, and Daphne, and Agatha are all powerful in their own right, and they just haven’t found their place where their magic fits? Instead of finding the right way to teach these magicians, they are left to struggle and ultimately resent their magic and the magic of the world around them.

Do I hear a social commentary on the state of standardized education? I can’t really comment on the British Educational System, nor the American one, as I am Canadian. What I can say, from my own experience in Canadian classrooms, is that for all the talk we do on making education inclusive, there is still a big push from higher ups for high grades and standardized testing. If any of my followers are British or American and care to share your two cents, feel free to do so. Let’s keep the conversation going!

I think this post might have gotten away from me. I think my point was to act as a defense for people like Daphne and Martin who found themselves fished into a scam all for the promise of feeling like they are enough in their world. I also wanted to defend people like Agatha, who did all she could to run away from all of it, only to find the place where she (and her magic) belonged.

I remember having this discussion on Discord, and one of the points that came up was that maybe The Greatest Threat to the World of Mages was this deeply ingrained prejudice over magicians with different sorts of magic. Magicians who need that extra bit of help to find their way.

We’ve seen in this series how these prejudices can threaten to split the World of Mages apart, and it looks like magicians like Penny, Baz, and Agatha are learning from these mistakes. Only time (and us fanfiction writers) will tell how they end up shaping their world for the future generations.

#any way the wind blows spoilers #awtwb spoilers #meta #is it though?#I mean I GUESS #the simon snow trilogy #the simon snow series #magical equality #the world of mages #this is really just a defense for Daphne

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Text

house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #weasely family #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #fred weasely fic #weasley fic #fred fic #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred x y/n #fred x ravenclaw #harry potter #hogwarts #ravenclaw #fred weasley x reader

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beccascribbles · 4 years

Text

where atsumu is a notorious playboy and now he wants you

a/n - you won't believe how long i've been working on this and it's finally finished... anyway, just wanted to say a quick thank you for 700 followers! it means a lot! hope you enjoy this little atsumu fic

warnings - nsfw (sex, swearing), possibly a little angsty?, toxic relationship

word count - 4.1k

sequel ‘returning the favour’, where atsumu gets a taste of his own medicine

When your friends warned you away from him, you should have known he was bad news, should have known to avoid him, to shut down any conversation and walk away.

When a random girl approached you in the university library and warned you away from him, told you what he had done to her, how he ignored her feelings and hooked up with another girl in front of her, the alarm bells should have started to ring.

When the very thought of introducing him to your parents filled you with dread, you should have known any kind of relationship with him was impossible. Introducing a boyfriend to your parents was nerve-wracking, yes, but you had done it before and the most severe emotion you had felt then was nerves. It was nothing compared to the dread that curled in your belly at the mere thought of ever introducing him.

But Miya Atsumu pulled you in.

Despite all the warnings, you were blinded by his easy charm, the smirk that would pull at the corners of his lips as he teased you, how comfortable he looked in every situation, as if he knew the power he held over those around him. He attracted girls and boys like a moth to a flame. In fact, he burned so brightly it was inevitable that you would get hurt at some point, feel his scathing dismal like a punch to the chest.

Truthfully, you were not planning on falling for him, not even planning to interact with the new face in your lectures. He had attracted enough attention, and you, the ever focused and diligent student, could not afford the distraction. So, while others flocked to him, you initially kept a wide berth, hurrying from lectures with your books clutched to your chest to grab at seat at the library. It would be a lie to say he had not noticed you through the crowds. You were either the first to leave the lecture hall, or one of the only students to approach the professor after class to ask questions and gather some more information about the subject. He admired the dedication you had, your unwavering focus. At the same time, he wanted to be the reason that focus, that dedication, finally broke.

On the day he finally approached you, the weather had been unpleasant. Rain had attacked you the entire walk to class, the raincoat you had on a flimsy barrier. Coupled with the harsh wind that had been blowing, it was nearly impossible for the hood of your coat to cover your head, leaving you with the look of a drowned rat and a very disgruntled one at that. The rain had soaked through your backpack, leaving you with a dripping notebook. You had to be thankful that you had transferred all the sheets of paper you had written on into a binder that had kept the paper mercifully dry. So, as you had sought out a radiator to dry your things on, he had approached you, looking effortlessly handsome... and dry.

“Want to borrow some paper, sweetheart?” he asked, waving his dry notebook at you, his lips upturned in a grin. His stance was casual, but the way he angled his body blocked the class from your view and also cut off your potential escape route. Though the vocative grated at you, your parents had taught you to be polite. Despite the annoyance in the lines of your body, you managed to smile back at him.

“Actually, yes,” you replied, turning back to the radiator to begin draping your wet items on the heated surface. “That would be great. Thank you.”

With your back to him, you missed the way his mouth twisted into a smirk, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. You heard the rip of paper being pulled from a notebook, then felt his warm fingers circle your wrist. You turned to face him, momentarily stunned by the lack of distance between you. His warmth, coupled with the radiator at your back, heated up your body, dispelling the cold bite the rain had left behind.

“And your payment?”he questioned running the tip of his finger along your inner wrist. The feel of his rough skin tracing the soft surface sent a tingle running through you, a traitorous flare of heat to your cheeks.

“Payment?” you scoffed, reaching for the proffered paper. He released it without a struggle, but remained close to you. It would have been so simple to trace the planes of your face, to feel the heat on your cheeks build because of his touch. Instead, he sent a lazy smirk in your direction. It should have irked you, but you found it oddly attractive, the little quirk to his lips, the intensity in has honey brown gaze. “For some paper?”

“Nothing is free these days,” he stated, reaching behind him to pull his phone from his back pocket. It dangled nonchalantly from his grip as he held it out to you. You glanced at the phone, then up at him, at his lazy expression. The way he looked at you showed he tended to get his way. There was no possibility in his mind where you returned to your seat without typing his number into your phone. “Give me your number and I’ll message you when I want to collect. I'm sure you'll enjoy it just as much as me.”

He pressed the phone into your hand. It was already unlocked and opened on a contact page. Instead of immediately typing your contact information into his phone like he assumed you would, you glanced down at the phone screen and then up at him. "Sorry, but my phone number comes at a cost as well."

He let out a low hum, leaning in closer, close enough that your noses almost touched. His eyes stared into yours, appearing to commit the colour to memory. "And what cost is that?"

“If you let me return to my seat, you might find out,” you stated, peeking over his shoulder to see that the professor was powering up the slide show. You pushed against his shoulder, creating enough space for you to walk past. As you stepped around him, you slipped his phone into his trouser pocket. He turned to watch you walk away, the smirk still present on his face.

The next time he approached you, he had orchestrated it with an obsessive perfection. With the knowledge that you always rushed to the library after class finished, he had instructed a member of the class, one of his fangirls, to deliberately bump into you as you tried to make your exit. It was amusing in a sick way how easily the girl had bent to his will. One kiss and she was weak at the knees, begging him for more. The more he had promised would be done once she completed this small task for him.

So, it was with an almost sadistic smirk on his face that he watched as the girl shouldered into you roughly, causing you to stumble and scatter your belongings across the floor. If you had only got into the habit of packing your stuff away into your backpack before leaving, you could have avoided the smirking blonde, able to quickly right yourself and continue on your way. As fate would have it, it was the muscular arms of the blonde that steadied you, his fingers gripping greedily at your waist. Offering him a quick thank you, you pulled yourself from his grip, bending down to gather the items you had dropped. Just as he had planned, you were distracted and desperate to leave, so distracted you did not notice as he took your notebook from the floor and slipped it into the open bag hanging from his shoulder. And, like he presumed, you hurried from the room without sparing him a glance.

When he decided to ambush you, you were digging through your bag, mumbling quietly under your breath as you attempted to find your notebook. It had all your class notes in it that you needed to begin your essay. Letting out a huff, you shoved your bag away from you.

"Looking for this?" asked Atsumu, notebook dangling from his fingertips as he took in your distressed form. Leaning forward, you pulled it from his grip, flicking through the pages to confirm that this was indeed your notebook.

"Where did you find it?" you asked, placing it down on the table and resting your arms on top of it as you looked up at him.

"Is that any way to thank the person who returned your class notes?"

You gave him an exaggerated, friendly smile. "Thank you. Now where did you find it?"

"The floor," he stated, a smirk tugging at his lips with his next words. "After your fall, that's where all your belongings ended up."

"I know," you snapped before turning back to the work you had been in the process of beginning. Atsumu's tall figure still loomed over the desk, his hands gripping at the edge of the table as he leaned forward to force himself into your line of sight. Your eyes narrowed into a glare. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I want to take you out." The words were simple, but said in such a pleasing honeyed tone that you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. He held your gaze, awaited your reply eagerly. He knew the effect he had on you, could see it working on you right before his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that you would say yes.

"Take me out where?" you questioned, voice coming out whisper. Your warm breath fanned against his face, made him crave a sudden closing of space between you and the parting of your lips as he pressed his against them. Truth be told, he wanted to see you come undone.

His usual method would not work on you, that much he was certain of. If he proposed a club or a bar, you would likely scoff, pull away from him, refuse his offer to take you out on a date. A restaurant however, one with a fine wine menu coupled with good food would work quite well.

"A restaurant," he said. You raised an eyebrow at his lacklustre response, expecting a more surprising proposal from the young man. "One where I can fine dine and wine the shit out of you."

“Okay,” you shrugged, feigning some level of disinterest as you pushed him lightly by the shoulder to move him out of your personal bubble. You bent to reach for a pen as you spoke. “Tell me a time and place, and I’ll meet you there.”

Atsumu blinked, unsure if he had heard you correctly. Had you just said you wanted to meet at the restaurant? That would be difficult considering he had yet to decide on one, having made a mental note to ask Osamu for recommendations later on. Trying to hide his sudden unease, he gave you a smooth grin. “Why don’t you let me pick you up, sweetheart?”

That caused you to pause, your breath to catch in your throat, your heart to stutter. The way he spoke, that soft drawl, the smooth dulcet tone of voice, made you weak at the knees. If he addressed you with the same tone each time he spoke, you would have been putty in his hands by now. You swallowed, avoiding eye contact as you tapped your pen on the table, the motion more to soothe you, though it aggravated the others in the library to no end. “Fine.”

You ripped a page from your notebook, hurriedly scribbling down your address. You held out the paper to him, finally meeting his eyes again. “When were you thinking?”

“Friday at 8?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “See you then.”

And, that Friday, you found yourself holding up various outfits to yourself in the mirror only to discard them a moment later. They were never perfect, either too sultry or too innocent, too girly or too geared towards comfort. It was so dire you had reached the point of wishing that you had ordered those dresses you had browsed after agreeing to meet with him. Next day delivery would have meant they would have arrived on time, and you would have felt confident in them. However, you had talked yourself out of it, convincing yourself you had dresses worthy of a dinner with Atsumu. With a sigh, you picked up a dress you had discarded earlier. It was the best out of a bad bunch, and unfortunately the only one you thought you could get away with. Distantly, you wondered why you were trying so hard. That was just you trying to convince yourself you didn’t care. It would be foolish to lie to yourself. You cared because you were attracted to him, to his easy charm, his good looks.

Glancing in the mirror one more time, you smoothed down the material of the dress. It complimented you well, was a trusted favourite. It hugged your body in all the right ways, emphasising your shape in a way that was pleasing to the eye. You allowed yourself a small smile. You felt confident. It was a bonus that you figured Atsumu would enjoy the view.

Hearing the knock on your door, you grabbed your bag from the desk, checking it had everything you needed. Phone, keys and purse were all present inside. Then you went over to open the door. Framed by the dark word, dressed in a dark shirt and black jeans, Atsumu looked hot. His hair had been perfectly styled, a far cry from the messier style he favoured at university. His eyes ran up and down your body, lazily, as if he was stripping you with his eyes. He drawled, “Well, don’t you clean up nice. Makes me want to stay in instead of taking you out."

You gave him a playful glare, pushing against his chest lightly. He stepped backwards, you following him into the hallway. Turning away from him, you faced the door, locking it. Over your shoulder, you quipped, "If you think this date is ending in sex, you are very much mistaken."

Little did you know how wrong your statement was. You could blame it on the buzz of alcohol in your system from the wine but, to be honest, you were weak to Atsumu's charm. The way he purred your name had you weak. The feel of his fingers grazing your bare skin made you shiver. The feel of his lips moving languidly against your own sent jolts of pleasure through you.

"I'm going to ruin you," he breathed, breath hot against your ear as he nipped gently at the lobe, fingers teasing at the hem of your dress, slipping under the material. Those words, along with his actions, were your undoing.

Your hands tangled into his hair, gently tugging as you reconnected your lips, the kiss far more passionate, a bit more messy. It was easy for him to push you onto the bed, for you to instinctively hook your legs around his waist, holding him close to you. A low moan escaped your lips as he rolled his hips into you, feeling the hardness of his cock through the layers. Your dress was hiked up past your hips, the lace of your panties on full display. He pulled away to admire you, unhooking your legs from around his waist, spreading them open for him to admire the view. He let out an appreciative whistle. "Look at you. So desperate for me, sweetheart. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock filling you up?"

You let out a soft moan. Your cheeks were flushed, breathing slightly laboured as you looked up at him. You were desperate for him. He could see all this, watched with smug satisfaction as your hand slipped into your wet panties and you began to play with yourself. "Why don't you take those off for me?"

Too lost in your need, you began to slip the fabric down your legs, slowly, teasingly. Atsumu watched with a playful glint in his eyes, hand moving to palm at his cock through his trousers. Not needing him to direct you, with the lace no longer blocking his view, you resumed your previous action, fingers circling your clit. As he watched, you pushed a finger into your wet entrance, watching as his eyes darkened. While you continued to pleasure yourself, he slipped his trousers off, then began to teasingly lower his boxes, watching your reaction. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of his hardened cock, slit wet with pre-cum. With you watching, he wrapped his fists around it, beginning to stroke it. His head tilted back and a low groan escaped his throat. You moaned in response, inserting another finger inside, stretching yourself out for him.

"Fuck, y/n," he moaned. "Are you ready? Do you want my cock inside of you? Do you want to feel me thrusting into you? Because I want to feel you clench around me, for you to cum as I fuck you."

"Yes," you breathed, thumb rubbing harshly against your clit as you continued to push your fingers inside you harder, faster. "Please fuck me."

"Get on your hands and knees then, sweetheart," he commanded, watching as you removed your fingers from inside of you. And what a sight you were, back curved to provide him with the best view. He ran his hands appreciatively along the slope of your ass cheeks, giving them a playful slap. He leant over you, fingers finding the zip of your dress, his cock brushing against you. Now wasn't the time to tease you. He yanked the zipper down, the dress falling off your body, leaving you naked apart from your bra.

"Please just fuck me," you begged, pushing back against him as his fingers brushed the tops of your erect nipples hidden by your bra.

"So impatient," he said, voice low, a gruff edge to it that made you suck in a breath. The tip of his cock brushed against your clit, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Teasingly, he waited, his cock head resting against your wet entrance. Each time you pushed back, he would pull slightly away, leaving you a whining mess. Just as you were about to beg, he pushed into you, his cock brushing against your inner walls as he slowly entered you. With a low groan, he sheathed himself fully inside you, his pelvis pressed against you.

Slowly at first, he began to rock into you, pulling out slightly before thrusting back in, working your pussy, getting you used to taking his cock. Each slow thrust caused you to moan, fingers clutching at the duvet.

"More," you whined, hips pushing back into him. He stilled, holding you close to him. You moved along his cock, grinding back against him as his hands tightened on you, stilling your movements.

"What was that?" he questioned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your neck. "You want me to fuck you into the mattress, is that it?"

"Yes," you declared, voice breathy as you let yourself droop forward, head resting against the soft material of the duvet. He pulled fully out of you, hand curling in the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling you upwards. Your back was flush against his chest, his other arm wrapped around you, fingers teasing at your clit as he thrust upwards into you again.

The sudden harsh thrust caused you to choke, head lolling against his shoulder. You were weak to him as he continued to thrust into you, losing yourself in the feeling of pleasure. The stimulation of your clit, coupled with the harsh thrusting, had you chasing your orgasm far sooner than you had expected, the pleasure slowly building up, a dam waiting to explode.

"Shit," you gasped as he pushed you forward onto the mattress, the position allowing him to push into you with more ease, the slap of his hips against your ass and your laboured breathing the only sound in the room. "Atsumu... I-I think I'm going to cum."

"Don't hold back," he grunted, feeling himself drawing closer. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Want to feel your walls fluttering around my cock."

"A-Atsumu."

His name was the only word able to escape your lips as a wave of pleasure hit you, finally sending you over the edge. He let out a pleased hum at the feel of your walls clenching around him, continuing to thrust into you as he chased his own release. He came with a low groan, releasing his hot seed into you, coating your walls. Slowly, he rocked gently into you before pulling out his slowly softening cock. You let out a low whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, turning to face him with a small pout. He let out a soft chuckle, grabbing you by the chin and pulling you in for a long kiss, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth. Against your lips, he said, "I'm always up for round two."

You should have know one night wouldn't be enough to satiate your hunger for each other. Despite only having a sexual relationship, the two of you formed a friendship, if constant sexual teasing could be considered friendship. In the library, in class. Atsumu was insistent, his hands rarely kept to himself when he could so easily slip them into your warm panties. Occasionally, you would return the favour, palming him through his jeans. On a day when you had been feeling particularly adventurous, you had sucked him off in the library, relishing in the soft moans he would release, the way his hips would buck upwards as he attempted to push you down onto his cock further.

One day, he had turned to you, a completely innocent look on his face and stated, "You're the only girl I ever fuck now."

You had looked at him blankly as he had pulled you towards him, placing you on his lap, urging you to straddle him. His hands rested against the bare skin of your sides. "And?"

"I'd say we're pretty much exclusive."

Those words gave you some indication of where his train of thought was heading. Though you couldn't deny wanting to be in a relationship with him, you could hardly define what you did now as dating. You felt he was just using you and that had been the truth for as long as he had begun pursuing you.

"We're not even dating, Atsumu," you sighed. Just last week, he had gone on a date with another girl only to arrive at your dorm at the end of the night to fuck you instead of her.

"Why don't we change that?" he hummed, placing kisses along your jaw before connecting your lips in a searing kiss. His thumbs brushed against your rib cage as he kissed you harder. He was close enough to feel the way your heart picked up the pace, hammering against your chest. You pulled away slightly to look at him, to see the sincerity in his brown eyes.

"Okay," you agreed. "Let's change that."

Years later, you would look back on certain moments in your relationship with nothing but anger, mainly at yourself. The signs were clear from the moment you became official. Atsumu was a person who refused to be tied down. As soon as your relationship was defined, he lost interest, pulling away from you, treating you as nothing more than a means for pleasure. But, through it all, you still felt love for him, needing to be the thing that brought him that pleasure. That illusion shattered the moment you saw him with another girl, her legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed her with the passion he used to kiss you.

Though the illusion shattered, the desire for him did not. You would still open your door for him, still let him use you as you told yourself you were using him. You accepted the empty 'I love you' he would whisper as you fell asleep only to wake up to an empty bed.

You were a fool. But he must have known that. After all, only a fool could ever love him like you did.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #hq imagines #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu atsumu #hq smut #hq angst #haikyuu smut #atsumu smut

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sasstrash · 3 years

Text

Please forgive me I've been super focused on school

The Silent Queen 6; A Royal Morning

Raven woke up the same she always did - quietly. No one ever really noticed her until she was outside her room and hallway back in the castle but at school, people smiled and waved at her the second she left her dorm with Maddie. She guessed that the news of her arrival had spread and a lot of people wanted to know the daughter of the Evil Queen. Raven grimaced at the thought, she would have preferred not to be known at all. To just be a minor character in a smaller story. With a happy ending. But that wasn’t who she was, she was Raven Queen and this was her life.

Walking down the corridors to the castleteria was mostly uneventful aside from all the other students who continued looking at her and pointing things out. It was times like these that she wished she could hear. But then again she wasn’t sure how well she’d adjust to suddenly being able to hear. The castleteria itself is big and crowded with white lighting that made everything look brighter than what Raven was used to, many eyes looked over to her and Raven felt herself subconsciously tug at a lavender streak in her hair. This was going to be a long school year.

Cerise stood up and waved over at the pair of newcomers from her table where she sat with Cedar, Hunter, and a few girls who Raven vaguely remembered from yesterday who had been with that blonde- Apple, Apple White. The next Snow White, the one Raven would eventually have to poison. Raven stopped moving for a second at the thought of her destiny. Eyes wide she almost started to shake until Maddie lightly poked her shoulder, pointing to the castleteria’s food table. Raven straightened and followed her roommate and best friend to grab breakfast.

At home, she usually just walks into the kitchen. Chef made pancakes most mornings with berries from the nearby forest and honey on top. Raven always loved those pancakes, even if she had them almost every day. Raven quickly put a few slices of bacon on her plate smiling at the staff before grabbing some fruit salad and a couple of waffles and left to follow Maddie over to Cedar’s table. Most people moved out of the way to let the two girls pass through in order to get to their table. If Raven was being honest she had expected more students to run away from her when she arrived, and yet they all seemed to be completely enamoured by her. Weird. Maybe it was because she hadn’t shown up for regular school until this year, or because no one knew what she looked like (she avoided mirror phones and rarely left the castle grounds), or maybe none of them knew much about deaf people. Or maybe all three. By the time she and Maddie sat down, Raven was already exhausted, and she hadn’t even gone to class yet!!

‘Morning Rae, how was your first night at EAH?’ Cerise signed over to her childhood friend. Raven smiled at the nickname, Cerise had given it to her when they were about six, very soon afterwards Raven and Cerise began talking more over chats with their mirror phones as Cerise started elementary school while Raven began to be castleschooled. The two would work on video chats every now and again to keep sign language in Cerise’s vocabulary, (usually with a little help from Ramona too, but it’s not like they could talk about that it was a secret!) so the two stayed connected no matter where they were.

‘It’s been good Cher,’ another nickname that had come from their younger years ‘you know after the whole Headmaster situation me and Maddie set up our dorm. It was definitely different from the castle or your place’ Raven concluded before picking up her fork. She really was hungry after skipping dinner last night. As the others smiled at her she felt a warm fuzzy feeling wash over her, these were her friends, some through childhood, some through the others and they all loved her. She was loved, at least she was now but once she became, that she wouldn’t be. Her smile began to dim just a tad as she bit into her waffle. She shook it off before looking at the three girls she didn’t know the names of. ‘Oh sorry I almost forgot, I’m Raven, and you guys are?’ she asked the brunette in pink, the platinum blonde in white and the ginger with green eyes. Each one smiled at her as brightly as her friends, if not a bit brighter, they were probably princesses, Raven thought to herself before each one signed their names.

‘Briar Beauty’ The girl in all pink signed with slightly tired eyes. Raven immediately made the connection to the Sleeping Beauty Story, it took a lot for her not to frown, that was always such a sad tale, sleeping for a hundred years would mean losing the people she loved. Even still Raven could see that something else was turning in her mind, maybe she’d get to see what that was.

The ginger signed after ‘Ashlynn Ella it’s nice to meet you!’ she had the brightest smile that Raven had seen from the trio. Cinderella’s daughter her mind added in, another story with a happy ending but a tragic beginning, she couldn’t imagine losing both of her parents. Then again it was better than being imprisoned in a mirror, or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes until death, or being crushed by a boulder after falling off of a cliff. Raven’s thoughts were broken as she saw that Ashlynn was sitting very close to Hunter, who seemed to be completely focused on her, the dork had a crush, which seemed to be mutual. If Raven could speak well she would have laughed.

‘I’m Darling Charming but you can call me Darl for short’ The Platinum Blonde signed last as she gave a simple polite smile. Like the one that Raven had been taught to use for visitors and knights when she was younger. A female born Charming? She had heard of it before but it wasn’t common, most of them became small-time princesses with small kingdoms, or took over for the Charming Kingdom when the time came. It would be interesting Raven thought to see where her destiny leads her, after all, Darling definitely had the most open book story out of all of them.

‘It’s nice to meet all of you’ Raven signed before continuing ‘So.. has anyone gotten a schedule, I still haven’t’ It hadn’t been a big surprise to her though, she supposed no one had accounted for her deafness and they might have had to remake her schedule. After she mentioned it though she saw Cedar hit her head with her hand. “Ugh, I almost forgot,” she muttered to the group before pulling out a piece of paper. ‘Here Raven, I passed the headmaster and he asked me to give this to you, don’t worry he only had to reschedule two subjects!’ she finished passing the note over. Raven sent a grateful smile to her friend thank goodness for Cedar on the top of the paper a note was written with a schedule underneath. It read:

Dear Ms. Queen; first of all, I’d like to apologize for not being aware of this sooner, in the short time we’ve been given I was able to find some students to help you translate in each class. However, just in case most classes have an extra student who understands sign language. Below is your schedule, I hope you enjoy your time here at Ever After High.

Sincerely,

Headmaster Grimm

Breakfast: 6:30-8:30

Block one: Geografairy with Professor Jack B. Nimble (assisted by Cerise Hood) 8:45-9:30

Block two: Beast Training and Care with Professor Poppa Bear (assisted by Dexter Charming) 9:35-10:20

Block three: General Villainy with Professor Badwolf (assisted by Ramona Badwolf) 10:25-11:10

Block four: Math with Dr. King Charming (assisted by Ashlynn Ella) 11:15-12:00

Lunch: 12:00-12:45

Block five: History with Professor Rumpilstilskin (assisted by Madelyn Hatter) 1:00-1:45

Block six: Spellcasting and Potions with Professor Baba Yaga (assisted by Cedar Wood) 1:50-2:35

Block seven: Grimmnastics with Coach Gingerbreadman (assisted by Darling Charming) 2:40-3:25

Block eight: Art with Professor Card (assisted by Meshell Mermaid) 3:30-4:15

Dinner may be had at any time after this, as can counselling with Baba Yaga or Mother Goose. Lights out is at 10:30

Raven smiled at the schedule she only didn’t know two of the names on here. She was nervous to start her time at EAH but as long as she had good grades and a clear head she was sure she would do fine.

Notes:

I am really sorry this took so long, I kept forgetting about it because of school and COVID. btw if anyone knows how to make a master post and pin it could you please let me know? I would like to be able to do that. I also just got an AO3 account so I might post on there.

Taglist For The Silent Queen:

@virgil-is-a-cutie @justafanwarrior @bee-a-garbage-shipper @spicybelladonna @starrry-nites @tired-butterfly @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @themagicmistic @a-star-with-a-human-name @futursworld @pepelachanel @me-with-a-z-and-double-the-e @wolf-for-life

@iz-bell-saiah @thebookwormfairy @fantasiame

#raven queen #eah #ever after high #maddie hatter #cerise hood #brair beauty #ashlynn ella #darling charming #the silent queen

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

Wait for me on the other side 1/8

Summary:

Mobius, a watchmaker, and Loki, a teacher, realize that they are separated by two years of time when they exchange letters from different years in the mailbox of the house on the cliff where Mobius lives. As the two lonely hearts feel they have found their soulmate, will they ever meet?

or the Lakehouse AU that nobody asked for.

Notes:

This is my very first multi-chapter AU. I hope you'll enjoy it. Chapters will be released on a weekly basis.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/81773392

3772 words - rating G

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

When two people "connect" the bond between them can be so pure and simple as to stir hearts in heaven.

When they connect in all the right places at all the wrong times, heaven weeps for broken hearts. To heal these broken hearts, heaven breaks time.

—Blithe Spiritus

Loki took one last look through the rearview mirror at the cottage on the edge of the cliff, which was getting smaller and smaller as he drove away.

Shifting his gaze forward, his face slid to the crate on the passenger seat, where Croki, his pet alligator, was sitting.

"I hope you will like your new home..." Loki sighed.

Then suddenly, he braked abruptly, holding back the cage with one hand as it slid forward. Then he backed the car up.

"Shit. I'm sorry Croc'"

He walked over to the mailbox. He put his hand through the window, opened the mailbox and put an envelope inside. Then his long fingers pulled the red flag in a vertical position, to indicate that there was mail. All this under the eyes of Croki who followed with attention all his gestures.

He tapped the top of the cage, "Come on, this time we're off for good."

He rolled, speeding up, refusing to look at the sign for the tiny village his home was in, New Asgard. Loki rolled east, the cliff behind him, then passed a sign: New York, 35 miles.

The traffic became heavier as he approached the city.

After maneuvering through the various streets and making his way through the New York traffic, he stopped in front of an apartment building on a busy street. It was a very recent building, cold and sterile. The contrast with the tranquility of New-Asgard was striking.

He parked, got out of the car and took a moment to absorb the change in his surroundings. Then with a sigh, he began to unload his things.

**********

Loki stopped at the steps in front of the entrance to the imposing establishment - September High-School. He inhaled deeply to give himself courage before moving forward, climbing the few steps and pushing open the heavy door. He entered and walked to what appeared to be the front desk where a busy looking secretary was standing.

Loki asked softly, "Excuse me?"

"Just a minute, okay?"

Loki waited a minute, politely, then tried to get the secretary's attention again.

"Ahem... Excuse me, I need to..."

She handed him a stack of paper, while saying, without looking at him, "Just fill this out and wait for me there, okay?"

Loki handed it back to her.

"No, I'm Loki Laufeyson. I'm a new teacher. I was told to report here."

The secretary looked sheepish, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. You need to find Principal Romanov. She should be around here. A woman with red hair, dressed in black, you can't miss her."

He did indeed find the Principal in the hallway that the secretary had pointed out.

Natasha Romanov may have looked young to be a high school principal, but everything about her demeanor, her head carriage, her attitude exuded confidence and authority. She walked quickly down the hallway and Loki, though tall, had a hard time keeping up with her.

The principal handed him a large stack of files as soon as they arrived in her office.

"You will be in charge of the sophomores, this morning you will have three classes to teach and three this afternoon."

Loki repeated to be sure, "Three?"

"That's a quiet day, for a first day."

Loki looked a little dazed, he didn't think he was going to jump into the deep end and thought he would have some time to adjust.

The principal turned around, as if she sensed his hesitation, "The teacher you replaced let us down without notice, and it took us a while to find the right replacement, the students lost a lot of time for their final exams. We have to do our best to make sure they pass."

They walked past a student who was sitting alone on a bench, looking sulky. Romanov motioned to a supervisor.

"What's he doing here?"

The supervisor replied, "He was grounded because he took apart a computer to prove Professor Banner wrong and has to do an hour of gym under Professor Odinson's supervision. However, I can't leave the place unattended, and I was waiting for my backup to take him there.

"Peter get up," said principal Romanov in a sharp tone.

The young man stood up, a sulky look on his face.

"Professor Laufeyson, take him to Professor Odinson in the gym and then you can begin your lessons in this class."

The principal pointed to the door of the classroom in question, then turned and walked back to her office, not waiting for an answer.

"Well come with me, Mister...?"

The young boy followed his lead and replied with a pouty tone, "Parker, Peter Parker. »

"Then let's go Mr. Parker, the computer dismantler." replied Loki with a wink. He knew he couldn't condone what the young man had done, but he couldn't help but find it amusing.

Seeing that the professor didn't look reproachful as he said these words, Peter lost his pout and got a small smile.

"Although I'm curious as to what could have caused you to disassemble a computer."

Peter seemed to come back to life, explained to an amused Loki, that Professor Banner, who taught biology, had said that nothing could compare to the complex construction that was a living being and Peter had wanted to show him the opposite by dismantling the Professor's laptop.

"But I was about to put it back together though, I don't understand why he got so upset."

Loki couldn't help but laugh.

Peter's face frowned because they had arrived at the gym.

They walked through the door and there a giant blonde man came striding in, "Peter Parker, it's been so long! Tell me what you've been up to again." he ruffled Peter's hair who tried to shy away from it, then he held out his hand to Loki who had to hold back a wince at the strength of the professor's grip.

"Professor Odinson, but call me Thor. Nice to meet you. New professor?"

"Yes, I am the new literature professor, Loki Laufeyson, but call me Loki. I'll leave this promising young man to you," He winked at Peter before continuing, "as for me I'll be teaching my first class."

"Welcome here, and good luck!" threw Thor at him before turning back to Peter, "Go change, we'll start with 10 laps running around the basketball court."

Hearing Peter's grumbles, Loki smiled as he walked away.

A few minutes later, he stopped outside his classroom door and took a deep breath.

"It takes a little time to adjust, but most of the students here are exceptional and the teaching staff is really, really nice."

Loki turned to see who had just spoken.

He found himself facing a black man, taller than him, and very impressive. But despite his imposing nature, his smile and eyes were very warm as he held out his hand. "Heimdall, art professor, welcome."

Loki grasped it and replied, "Loki, literature professor."

Heimdall gave a small nod in the direction of the door, "Good luck." then walked away.

Loki, surprisingly relaxed following this little interlude, walked through the classroom door with a confident air, placed his belongings on the desk and with an engaging smile on his lips addressed his first students, "Hello, I am your new literature teacher and I hope we will work well together."

He paused, letting his gaze roam over the entire class before continuing,"O Captain! My Captain! Who knows where that came from? No one? No idea? It's-"

A young boy raised his hand at the back of the classroom.

"Yes Mister...?"

"Keener, Harley Keener."

"All right Mister Keener, I'm listening."

"It's a Walt Whitman poem about Abraham Lincoln. And it's plagiarism of Professor Keating's introduction played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society."

Loki didn't lose his confidence at all and replied, "Thank you Mr. Keener. I'm not going to apologize for the plagiarism. I didn't expect anyone to contradict me since this film was released long before you were all born. Thank you, Mr. Keener, for setting me straight. I won't ask you to call me Captain, Sir, or Professor, but simply Loki. Yes, Mr. Keener, Loki, as in the Norse god of mischief... "

The whole class, including Harley, laughed and Loki thought that it wasn't such a bad start.

But he still felt exhausted at the end of the day, and he slumped into the chair at his assigned desk in the teacher's lounge. He leaned in and put his head back, closing his eyes.

"So they've worn you out already?" it was the deep voice, which he recognized as Heimdall's. He opened his eyes to see that the art professor had sat just at the desk next to him.

"Yet the Famous Five keep talking about Loki, the new professor who is super cool. It's been a long time since I've heard a literature professor on such good terms." It was Thor who came to join them and pulled a chair to sit in the space between Heimdall and Loki.

"The Famous Five?"

Thor chuckled before answering, "They're called that because they're always stuffed together, probably five of the smartest minds in this elite school, and as a result always going out on the town to..."

"…the benefit of science." finished Heimdall.

"That's their argument every time they get busted," Thor clarified.

"Who are they?" asked Loki, curious.

"There's Peter who you met this morning, he's in the same class as his two childhood friends Ned and MJ. There's Harley who talked about how you put him in his place, when he thought he had fooled you. Captain my Captain huh?"

Thor chuckled before continuing, "and finally Kamala Khan, the newest one, a little brunette, a ball of energy who always wears a big red scarf, summer and winter and who the other four have taken under their wing."

"Interesting..." replied Loki, thoughtfully.

"Wait until you're the target of their prank and we'll see if you find these kids interesting." said an unknown voice behind him.

"Bruce my friend! Were you able to fix your laptop?" exclaimed Thor with a laugh.

Loki turned around, only to find himself standing in front of a man who was a little older than him. He stood up and held out his hand, "Professor Banner, I presume."

"Am I that famous?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow as he shook the outstretched hand in a firm grip.

"It's mostly that I had the pleasure of taking Peter Parker for his grounding to Thor." replied Loki

"That brat..." harrumphed Bruce. "He's smart... but his habit of proving he's always right..."

The other men laughed in unison.

"So boys? Are we having fun?" a young woman with short blond hair stepped forward and held out her hand, "Carol Danvers, homeroom teacher at this crazy school."

"Nice to meet you," Loki replied, shaking the outstretched hand.

Unaccustomed to being around so many people and especially such friendly people, Loki felt a little overwhelmed and suddenly the fatigue of this first day seemed to fall on his shoulders to the point that he had to stifle a yawn.

Thor patted him on the back and said, "I have an excellent remedy for that."

"What is it?"

Heimdall and Thor high-fived each other and said in unison, "The Bifrost."

At Loki's look of complete incomprehension, Carol explained, "It's a bar two blocks away, good burgers, good beer and for good company, that's us." she finished with a wink.

Loki realized they were inviting him to come with them but he hesitated and finally replied, "Thanks. I better not drink tonight. I'm dead."

Bruce retorted, "We're all dead."

"Yes, but I still have a lot to unpack."

They nodded, and did not seem disappointed by his refusal, even rather understanding. Loki really wasn't used to this kind of company.

Heimdall put his hand on his arm and then said softly, "Next time, then."

Loki, not understanding why his throat was tight, simply nodded.

A little later, they separated in front of the school gates. Loki on one side and the group on the other.

" Bye Loki!"

"See you tomorrow Captain!"

Loki lived only three blocks from the school and soon arrived home. When he entered he realized how sterile and cold his large apartment seemed.

He had not yet had time to unpack all his things and the boxes were scattered everywhere. The first thing he had unpacked was Croki's terrarium, which took up a whole room.

As he closed the door, he heard Croki's typical little paws coming and rubbing against him as usual. He patted his head and headed for the kitchen. Croki was a Cuvier's Dwarf caiman. Loki had once wanted to get a dog, but in the animal shelter he had immediately felt a connection with the animal, perhaps because he was different, like himself.

Loki opened the refrigerator which was desperately empty except for Croki's fish ration. He put it on a plate and put it on the floor while commenting, "Need alligator food. And human too."

He was going to have to do some shopping tomorrow.

After snacking on a bag of chips, exhausted, he took a quick shower before going to his room.

"Good night Croki."

His room was as functional and depressing as the rest of the place. He went to stand in front of the window. Outside it was all stone buildings. It was very difficult to even see the sky. He sighed, "What a view..."

He pulled the blinds and went to bed. Once his head was on the pillow, he fell asleep very quickly, which prevented him from thinking too much about everything he missed.

**********

A red pickup truck passed the New Asgard sign before parking at the side of the path that leads to the house. Its back end was filled with furniture and moving boxes. A mustachioed man with gray hair got out. He walked toward the cottage on the edge of the cliff and stopped, hands on hips, contemplating the view.

He opened the door, looked for the electric power meter. He turned it on and went to turn on the light in the entrance and then in what seemed to be the living room.

Mobius examined the place, satisfied. There wasn't much. A stereo, some books, an armchair. But the bare and cosy furniture matched perfectly with the austere beauty of the small cottage. He looked out the window at the cliff. He was going to like it here.

It took him a good four hours to unload his pickup truck by himself and install just about everything he had brought. Once finished, he grabbed a cold beer that he had put in the cooler and while drinking it quietly walked around the house before getting in the car to go shopping at the local grocery store that he had spotted on his way in.

Once he had gone around the store, with his groceries in his arms, he went to put them on the counter.

The young owner and his wife were behind.

"Hi, are you new around here?" the owner asked him.

Mobius smiled and replied, "More or less. My name is Mobius."

The owner replied, "My name is Clint and this is my wife, Laura."

Laura smiled and added, "You're going to like it. Especially now that the weather is getting warmer." Then pointing to the groceries, she added, "We'll get you some boxes for all that."

"Oh thanks." replied Mobius.

Laura fetched an empty box from a high shelf. Now that she was no longer hidden by the counter, it was obvious that she was pregnant. Clint rushed to her. "No, honey, let me."

Mobius looked at them, feeling moved and at the same time fully aware of his own loneliness. He paid, took his box and left, but not without promising the young couple to return.

He parked in front of the small road with his groceries in the back of the truck and noticed the mailbox with its flag up. He stopped and opened it. There was an envelope.

For the new tenant.

He took in the groceries, put them away, made himself a sandwich tray and taking the letter, he went to sit on the armchair in front of the bay window. He put his tray on a small table next to it, opened the letter and started to read.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

By the way, I'm the former tenant, Loki.

Mobius looked perplexed but also pleasantly surprised.

The post office forwards my mail normally, but if something should happen here, because the post service is what it is and we are never safe, my new address is below. Thank you.

Mobius turned over the letter.

P.S.: Sorry for the pawprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as well as the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

Mobius stared at the letter in amusement and could not help but check the end of the letter.

He went to the front door. The floor was clean. Inside and out.

"What did he talk about?" he scratched the back of his head before heading for the ladder that led to the attic. He opened the hatch, poked his head through and looked around. It was empty. No box.

Mobius went back down, shrugged, crumpled the letter and threw it away.

He finished his meal and went to bed.

The next day, in his clock store, while repairing an antique watch with an extremely complicated mechanism, he couldn't help thinking about the letter and its more or less strange ending when he was interrupted by the doorbell indicating that someone had entered the store.

He put down his tools, wiped his hands, and headed for the store.

"Hey Mobius! I made lunch, shall we share?"

It was the bubbly and somewhat invasive, Sylvie. The owner of the antique gun store right across from him.

He replied, annoyed, because she had interrupted his work that he loved, "I can't, I have urgent work to finish."

"Oh come on Mobius, there's nothing urgent about an old watch."

"It is to its owner."

She made a disappointed pout, "Well, okay..." she sighed and headed for the door, then turned abruptly. "Is it true you bought a house? Where is it? How is it?"

Mobius rolled his eyes, used to Sylvie's chatter.

"It's an isolated cottage, in a small village called New Asgard."

"You're sick to isolate yourself like that!"

"It's what I want and I already feel at home there. And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to my work, which is not urgent." He walked briskly toward his studio, annoyed by the criticism of his choice, and didn't even hear the door close.

In the late afternoon, after his day's work, he decided to repaint the faded fences that lined the small path. The manual work, like his work on watches, helped him to clear his head.

A few hours later, as the day was getting darker, Mobius was kneeling on the steps and applying a new layer of paint to the weathered planks. He finished, satisfied with the result, and began to put his equipment away.

Behind him, a small dwarf alligator trotted along the path. Mobius didn't notice it at first. The alligator sped up and before Mobius could react, he stepped into the paint and left footprints behind him. "Hey!"

Mobius tried to catch the alligator but it ran back inside the house whose door Mobius had left ajar. Mobius was about to follow him, wondering what an alligator was doing here and if he was dangerous, when he suddenly stopped.

On the ground in front of the house, there was a trail of paw prints.

Mobius rushed to the garbage can and searched with determination through his trash when he finally found what he was looking for: Loki's letter.

He stared at it.

Sorry about the footprints leading to the front door. They were already there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner.

He remained for a long moment staring at the crumpled note.

*********

Loki went out to have lunch at a place he had spotted not far from the school.

Finding the weather warm, he opened his coat and continued walking.

When he arrived at the place, he sat down on a bench and started to unwrap his sandwich, a book in his hand. He enjoyed this moment of calm, even if the place was crowded on this beautiful day.

Once finished eating, Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him up. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water of the fountain, the splashes and laughter of the children playing there, an old man grumbling about global warming, the pigeons landing not far away, hoping to get some crumbs from those who like Loki had decided to have lunch here.

Suddenly, a horrible noise, a high-pitched squeal and a horn made Loki sit up. He suddenly opened his eyes and looked around.

A few meters away, in front of Loki, a double-decker city bus was trying to stop. It was going pretty fast, although you could tell the driver was trying to brake.

Loki registered it all, the noise, the bus, before noticing the gray-haired man standing directly in the path of the bus. There was nothing to be done, it was inevitable and almost immediate, the man was hit by the bus, and Loki, horrified, saw his distant figure fly ten or fifteen feet into the air before crashing to the sidewalk. The faint sound of the impact reached Loki half a second later, due to the distance.

Loki automatically took out his cell phone and dialed 911. As he walked towards the impact point, he gave all the information to the rescue workers, trying to remain calm.

Once he hung up the phone, he started to run towards the lifeless body.

_______

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#Lokius fic #alternate universe #loki series #loki #mobius m mobius #slow burn #time travel #thor #bruce banner #heimdall #natasha romanov #carol danvers #peter parker #harley keener #ned leeds #MJ #kamala khan #croki

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

acquainted | eight

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.6k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy and slight possessiveness, making out

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1 @thebeebi (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Should we go to that charity event the school is holding on Friday? It sounds kind of fun." Ryujin sipped on her drink, while you went through your closet, showing her different outfits over the facetime call.

"What's it for again?"

"I don't remember, but the Golden State Warriors dj is going to be dj'ing. He's pretty good."

"Yeah he is. I mean, I'm down, especially if it's for a good cause."

"Okay, I'll grab us tickets when I head to campus."

"You're not even gonna ask Jimin or Tae?" You chuckle.

"Why would I? They do everything we do, they don't know anything outside of us." You shake your head.

"Cut them a little slack."

"Boohoo, they'll say yes regardless. Bring Jungkook!"

"I mean, I'll ask, but I'm not gonna force him."

"Oh quit, I'm sure he'd be happy to spend time with you." She looked at you through the camera. "K, let me see that outfit."

"He said casual." You showed her your outfit in the full length mirror.

"Absolutely, yes! You're fucking hot." She squeals, automatically solidifying your outfit for tonight. It, thankfully, wasn't too cold in the Bay today, so you throw on a grey distressed denim mini skirt, a low-cut light grey longsleeve, a belt and some heeled combat boots. You ruffled and fixed your hair a bit until you were satisfied with your look, picking up the phone once more to turn your attention back to Ryujin.

"Thank you."

"No problem, babe. I hope you have fun! Did he say where you two were going?"

"Nope, it's apparently a surprise."

"Ugh, I love him already." She gushes, causing you to shake your head. You dabbed a bit of lip gloss and pressed your lips together to spread it out before spraying a perfume cloud for you to walk through. Sooner or later, knocks came at the door.

"Okay, I think that's him. I'll talk to you later?"

"Call me as soon as you get home. I want to know how big his dick actually is."

"You're sick. You sound exactly like Tae, you know that?"

"We're not talking about him."

"Love you, bye!" You abruptly hang up on her, unsure of why the hell you deal with her and Taehyung's crude comments. You grab your bag and open the door to see Jungkook standing there with a small bouquet of flowers. He peeks his head over the bouquet with the cutest smile you have ever seen.

"Hi." He slightly scrunches his nose and pulls you into a hug. Goddamn, does he smell good. "These are for you." He hands you the bouquet.

"Jungkook, they're beautiful. Thank you." You take it into your kitchen and place it into a vase really quickly before stepping out. You eye him from head to toe, and boy is looking like a whole ass meal in the denim outfit he has on. Like, who in the world could pull off this outfit like that?

"You look amazing." You blush. "If you ever get cold, just let me know, alright? I can spare my jacket."

"You're so sweet."

"Just want to make sure you're comfortable." He shrugs. "You ready?"

"Depends on what you have up your sleeve."

"Nothing extreme, if that's what you're thinking." He laughed. "I hope you enjoy it, though."

"Thanks for planning all of this, by the way."

"No biggie. I'm just glad to finally spend some time with you." He does a little run to open the passenger car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. Immediately, he gets the car started and turns up the heat to make sure you're comfortable. The radio is softly playing Zayn's sHe, with Jungkook softly singing along.

"Wait a minute," You chuckle. "Do you sing?" He smirked.

"Maybe."

"Hey, that's not fair. Sing louder."

"No, now I'm shy." He chuckled.

"Why? It's just me."

"Yeah and I just wanna impress you and not make a fool out of myself."

"You won't! Please." You pouted, making him shake his head.

"Ugh, Y/N. That's going to easily become a weakness for me if you keep pulling that pout." You keep pouting. Eventually, he gets over himself and starts to sing a little louder than earlier, causing your heart to flutter at how angelic he sounds. He ends up laughing towards the end and shrugging it off, his cheeks tinted with a rosy tint as you shower him in compliments. Swoon. You were so into the moment that you didn't even realize Jungkook was taking you across the bridge to San Francisco. You and your friends don't come to the city much, strictly because there's too many goddamn hills, parking is expensive as fuck, there's too many one way streets and people just get crazy as hell [like crossing the street when it's not time to walk?!]. It was a little calmer back home and that's all you guys needed. You watch as he parks the car effortlessly on a steep hill before coming over to your side to open the door for you.

"Whew, that's gonna be a workout later." You look back at the steep hill that you're gonna have to climb after eating dinner, you assume.

"Don't worry, I got you." He laughs. There's actually a lot of people out for a Tuesday evening that you end up hanging onto his arm to get navigate the random sea of people. He walks into Brenda's French Soul Food - nothing too fancy, but nothing too casual. The waitress brings you both towards the back end of the restaurant and out into the patio, where there are christmas lights hung around the fence and outdoor heaters posted. He pulls out your chair before sitting himself down, the waitress putting down your menus and cups of water.

"Ohhhhh, my god." You say with heart eyes looking at the menu. You had heard about this place from so many people, and you were impressed that Jungkook was able to score reservations being that it's always so busy due to its popularity. "I'm so excited! I've been wanting to try this place."

"Goodjob, Jungkook." He says, patting himself on the back. "If you're happy, that's all I could ask for." The waitress comes back to offer recommendations, which you both include in your orders in one way or another. Although packed, the restaurant was able to pump out orders quickly and efficiently so you and Jungkook weren't sitting around for too long without food.

"So, how's Jin in class?" You almost choke on your food even though this is something you should have expected. You really wanted to avoid speaking about him tonight, but you knew it was inevitable being that you were out with his brother.

"Um, he's alright."

"Just alright?" He rose his eyebrow and chuckled.

"No, sorry. I mean, he's a really good teacher. Definitely better than our last professor. Everyone in class loves him."

"That's cool. Yeah, he's really smart and wise. I've always looked up to him."

"How long has it been?" You weren't sure how to ask the question, but Jungkook understood what you were asking.

"I was a sophomore in high school when my mom met his dad." You're silent for a moment, allowing him to continue on if needed. "I had a really hard time at first, you know? The whole stepfather thing. My anger was moreso directed towards my mom and my stepdad for awhile. But Jin helped me out a lot. He helped me come to terms with my feelings about everything and he stuck by my side, always had my back whenever I got into arguments or bickered with one of our parents." You nodded, suddenly feeling guilty even though you and Jungkook weren't a couple.

"So, you two are really close." He nodded.

"Yeah, we are. I really don't know what I'd do without him. He's taught me a lot and helped me grow. Plus, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi have been around too. They treat me like their own little brother.”

"That's sweet. It's nice to have that kind of relationship with your sibling and their friends." You chuckle.

"It is." He nods. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin." He laughs.

"From the club, right? I met your friends, they're fun people."

"They're too much, honestly. I'm the only child, but we've all been stuck to the hip since freshman year in college."

"That's cool that you guys have been together since then." You give him a toothless smile. "I think it's pretty awesome that you guys are tackling grad school together too."

"Initially, we all had different plans, but Jimin had some big goals for himself including grad school, and it played a huge role in my decision to do grad school, too. Then Ryujin followed, then Taehyung."

"Cute."

"Speaking of friends, there's this charity event at school on Friday." You look up at him, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Uh huh?"

"And I was wondering if you wanted to come along with us. They really want you there."

"That's sweet. But, what matters the most is that you want me there."

"I wouldn't be inviting you if I didn't, right?" You bit your bottom lip.

"Touché. Of course I'll go with you, beautiful." He does a small nod before sipping his water. "Should we show up in matching outfits?" He joked, causing you to snort.

"Honestly, that seems pretty entertaining. Cute, and entertaining."

"I'm down if you are." You stuck your tongue out playfully.

"I'm game too."

"Let me know what you're wearing then."

"I will, whenever I figure that out."

"Take your time. Just know you'll look good in anything." You blushed. You both continue to talk over the remaining bits of your food before Jungkook calls for the check. You watch as he scribbles his signature onto the receipt before standing and sticking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. While exiting the small and crowded restaurant, you hold onto his hand, feeling him grip it tighter as you both successfully make it out. The night isn't too cold, and you sure as hell knew it wouldn't be after you conquered the hill that Jungkook parked on.

"Fuck." You say as you stand on the street, eyeing the steep hill in front of you.

"Come on." He says, slightly bending down for you to hop onto his back.

"Ouu, I don't know if that's a good idea--"

"Y/N, I promise it's okay. Come on." He laughed. Hey, if he was willing to do this, then why not? You hop onto his back, his arms wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, while you clung onto his neck. "See, not so bad, right?" He says, sprinting up the hill, making you laugh and hold onto him tighter.

"Shit, I am so sorry. That was probably a workout. Right after we ate, too."

"Nah. It wasn't anything." He scrunched his nose. On the way back over the bridge, Jungkook is heading towards Lake Merritt. You both are singing along to songs and joking around about topics that pop up here and there. When he parks his car, you notice a whole crowd of people gathered by the lake, which was a little unusual for this time of night. He grabs your hand and gently caresses the top with his thumb as he walks you over towards the crowd. To your surprise, you realize people are gathered here for a water lantern festival. Your eyes light up, making Jungkook smile at how excited you look.

"Jungkook, what the hell! How did you know about this and I didn't?" He shrugs.

"I have my ways." He says, his voice low and deep. You playfully shove him before you make your way over to grab lanterns to decorate. You and Jungkook sit off in a more quiet, calmer part of the lake, silently decorating your lanterns and writing your wishes along with it. What exactly did you want to wish for?

Happy friends, happy family. Happy you.

Whatever happiness meant to you.

To have Chance look over you.

Jungkook is done pretty quickly, but he waits for you to finish, not questioning what you've written since he figures it's a private matter. He shows you his lantern and his cute little stick figure drawing of his family and friends. You giggle, watching him gently lay his lantern in the water, giving you leverage to do the same with yours. You stand closely to him, his body providing you some warmth as you watch your lanterns float off into the lake and illuminate the night along with the others.

"Ready? We have one more thing to catch." He snakes his arm around your waist and gives your side a gentle squeeze. You simply nod, following him back to his car. He takes you about 30 minutes away, exiting and pulling right into a lot two street lights down from the exit. He pulls up to the ticket booth, buying 2 tickets for Tenet at the drive-in movie. You squeal and clap in your seat excitedly, also not knowing this was still around.

"Did you really do your research to plan this date?"

"Yes and no? I've been here before, and I thought it would be fun to take you. The restaurant and the lantern festival though, yes." He parks his car as instructed, turning the radio to the correct channel in order to hear the audio. "Wanna hop in the back so we have more room?" You nod, getting out of your seat just to hop into the back. He leans over into his trunk, grabbing water bottles and assorted gummy candies for you to snack on in case you wanted some. "I hope you're having fun so far."

"I am." You respond softly.

"Okay, beautiful. If you say so." He chuckles. He moves the driver and passenger seats forward so that you both have room to spread your legs a bit. At first, Jungkook made sure to give you enough space so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable, but over time, you felt yourself sinking closer and closer to his body until he had his arm draped around your shoulder, while part of your body rested on his. His hand gently caressed your arm, occasionally sending goosebumps through your body at how soft his touch his. You glanced over, admiring at how focused he was on the movie. He must have felt you looking at him because he quickly looks over and blushes as he nibbles on a gummy worm. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just cute how focused you are."

"Damn, are you not into it?"

"I am, but it's kind of hard to follow sometimes."

"Yeah, it's definitely one of those movies." This time, his gaze on you is a little longer than before. You don't know what takes over you, but you plant a kiss on him, making him smile into the kiss. He doesn't say anything, but proceeds to rest his free hand on your neck, pulling you close and into another deep kiss. Your hand grips onto the side of his shirt, your tongues slowly fighting for dominance. The sounds of wet kisses fills the car and tunes out the movie audio. You can feel the moment intensifying, both you and Jungkook letting out breathy moans in between kisses. Suddenly, the thought of Seokjin quickly flashes in your mind, the past nights you've spent with him and the nasty shit you both have done to each other.

You lightly gasp as you pull away, but it wasn't obvious to Jungkook that something had disturbed your peace.

"Sorry, I—" He tries to save face just in case he was in the wrong about something.

"No, I just— I wasn't expecting it to get that intense." You lied. You knew damn well.

"It's okay." He chuckled. "I would never rush you into anything, Y/N. Okay? We can take this slow." He gives you a genuine, warm, reassuring smile that causes you to swoon. Why the fuck was he so good? Just why? How was this even fair right now?

All you do is simply smile and lean back onto him. He's back to caressing your arm and shoulder, giving you small pecks on the top of your head every now and then to reassure you. Part of you wondered if this is what Seokjin had taught him over the years - how to properly love a woman and be a gentleman. But then, that quickly fades when you remember the situation you're in with him.

Well no, you're not in anything with him. You needed to stop doing this to yourself.

When the movie ends, you both climb back into the front seats to make your way back home. You feel the exhaustion hit you, all the fun and adrenaline you felt today slowly come crashing down. Jungkook parks in the passenger loading zone, throwing on his hazard lights before walking you up to your apartment.

"Jungkook, thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it and had a ton of fun with you."

"I'm glad." He cups your face and gently places a kiss on your forehead. You weren't satisfied with it though, so you tippy toe as you hold onto his hand and kiss him on the lips. He leans into the kiss, deepening it for a quick second before pulling away. "Let me know the details about Friday, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight, beautiful." He smiles and licks his lips as he watches you walk in, feeling utterly content with how the day went. You feel the same way, smiling to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor and prance into the bathroom to get ready for bed. You felt the butterflies in your stomach every time you thought about Jungkook and his smile, or his soft lips against yours.

Butterflies that kept your mind off of—

[jin] 10:04pm: Are you still with Jungkook?

You roll your eyes at the text. You hadn't pulled out your phone all night, so you're also seeing the numerous messages from your friends in the group chat, too.

[jimin] 7:45pm: have fun tonight, Y/N!

[taehyung] 7:50pm: ^ ditto. use protection, young lady

[taehyung] 7:50pm: think about mr. kim's feelings

[ryujin] 7:56pm: taehyung kim, shut the hell up. do you have anything better to do?

[jimin] 8:01pm: i really hope she doesn't pull out her phone during the date -__-

[taehyung] 8:05pm: lmfao you guys, chill out

[taehyung] 8:06pm: i'm sorry y/n, im just kidding. have fun tonight and be safe, love you

[ryujin] 8:10pm: CALL ME WHEN YOU GET HOME Y/N! i wanna know deets, remember! and ask him if he wants to join us on friday!

Unbelievable. Your friends were unbelievable, and that was an understatement. You don't respond to the group because you figured you'd call Ryujin in a bit and update the boys over the week. But to Jin's text - fuck.

You were literally just tucking him away in the far, far, far dark, deep depths of your mind.

[y/n] 11:38pm: I was, but now I'm home.

[jin] 11:39pm: Yeah, he just texted me back. Sorry.

[y/n] 11:40pm: It's okay.

[jin] 11:43pm: Okay. Have a good night.

He hates this. Why the hell would you do this to him? Grace is upstairs sleeping while Jin is trying to clean the kitchen up like he promised. Suddenly, his phone goes off, signaling a call coming in.

Jungkook.

"Hello?"

"Oh shit, yes! You're awake!" Jin chuckles a bit.

"How was the date?" Not only was he asking out of curiosity, but wanted to know how you were doing during the night. Completely none of his business but he couldn't help himself.

"God, she's fucking amazing. A-and-and beautiful." He yells into the phone excitedly. "She's so exciting. I can't wait to take her out again. I just wanna keep spending time with her." Jin is pretty unamused on the other line. Thank God he isn't on Facetime so he didn't have to fake this facial expressions hearing about Jungkook's feelings for you. "S-she- I mean, we kissed."

"Oh?" Jin asks, tongue pressed against his cheek. What the fuck.

"Yeah, we were making out during the movie. It got pretty intense, but it didn't get any further than that. I didn't wanna rush her into anything."

"You think it could have escalated?"

"Yeah honestly, but I wanna do right by her, you know?" Jin can tell how serious Jungkook was starting to become about pursuing you, and he had never felt more competitive until this day. He just wanted you to himself, and he wanted to be the one to kiss you and make you feel things you've only dreamed about.

Not his brother.

He, too, wanted you just as bad. If anything, more.

"It sounds like it was a pretty successful first date." Jungkook is beaming through the phone, he didn't have to see his face to know that.

"It was. It was such a good night." Jungkook chuckles. "By the way, I'm going to that charity event on campus on Friday. Are you and Grace going?"

"Probably not."

"Well, if you both are free, you should swing by. It'll be nice to see Grace."

"Yeah, I'll ask and see what's up." Jin sighs. "I should probably get to bed, I'm pretty tired. I'm happy to hear the date went well, kid."

"Thanks, dude. I'll talk to you later, get some rest."

"You too." Jin hangs up the call, silently hitting his fist against the kitchen counter as he lets out a deep sigh. More than ever, he wanted to keep you wrapped around his finger. He wanted to keep you there, no matter how selfish that sounded. There was no way he was going to let you unravel.

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

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Hey there! Could I please get a fred Weasley x reader where the reader is a Slytherin, but befriends everyone all the same, maybe with the trope of her being best friends w the twins and everyone trying to set her and Fred up bc there's so much tension? But they're terribly oblivious? I absolutely love this trope lmaoo. Thank you and have a wonderful day!✨❤️

This is cute-- How in the world do you guys come up with this adorable stuff omfg.

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, panic attacks, slight NSFW conversations, set in a non voldy world.

You were a strange one. A Slytherin with a Hufflepuff personality. Honestly anyone that knew you questioned if for once the sorting hat was wrong for the first time. You had friends EVERYWHERE. Fred and George had heard of you, people saying even Filch could find you enjoyable to be around. Once they heard that, oh boy, they had to meet you. Fred and George finally did by the lake one day. Fred was talking to George, noticing a few cracks from limbs in the tree they were standing under here and there. Finally they had an answer as to what was making it do that when they heard “OH SHIT” followed by “INCOMING!” followed by you falling right into Fred’s arms. “My bad, I was trying to get a bird back in its nest.” You apologized, hopping down the the ground. Fred blinked a couple of times, looking at the tree and then you. “Uh... twig.” George said, pointing to his head to indicate you had a twig in your hair. “Hmm? Oh! thank you!” You realized. “Did... You just fall out of a tree?” Fred asked. “You’d be surprised on how much that happens. Oh are you those twins I’ve been hearing about?” You asked. “Probably. I’m Fred--” “That’s George, yep I know.” You nodded. “...Who are you?” George asked. “Oh-- I’m Y/n!” You said. “Ohhhhh. See this is beginning to make sense now.” George nodded. Fred was just... Staring at you. It wasn’t a perplexed face of “What the fuck just happened”. It was more: “This girl is.. Pretty?”

The twins started having more interactions with you. But there was the day you three became friends that neither of the boys will forget. Fred and George were sitting in the library. Reading? No. Napping? Yes. Well, until you slid into a seat. “Y/n?” Fred yawned. “Act. natural.” You said with this wild eyed look making George raise a brow. Then Draco ran in... With green hair. Fred was now awake and you were hiding your face in a book. “Have you seen Y/n!?” Draco growled. “No... But I see you decided to wear your Slytherin pride today.” George snorted. “You.” Draco growled. Then he noticed you laughing. He pulled down the book. “YOU!” He shouted. “Shit!” You gasped before Fred slid a chair in front of Draco, George bolting with you. You all hid in the one place Draco would never be caught dead in. The Gryffindor common room. You collapsed out of breath on the couch laughing with the boys. “What in the world made you do that?” George wheezed. “He decided to be a dick to my friend this morning. I got revenge. Tomorrow I’m thinking blue. He’s been giving Ravenclaw trouble lately.” You laughed making Fred snort. “Your idea is amazing, might I suggest we rig an exploding ink pen?” George said. “With silver ink, because red just seems to clash with that boy’s eyes.” You said making the boys laugh harder. “Oh I think we’re going to enjoy having you around, won’t we Freddie boy?” George asked. “Indeed Georgie. Indeed.” Fred chuckled.

So the mischievous three were introduced to the world. You had this policy though: Only prank the assholes. So that automatically meant a lot of kids from Slytherin. With each prank you got closer to the boys. Specifically Fred. Something about him just drew you in, like a moth to a flame. George wasn’t stupid either, he could see the looks you two would give each other. When you all entered your fourth year, you had started helping out with their little underground business. You spent the first two weeks of summer that year at home but actually ended up staying with the Weasleys’. You seemed... A little off though. Fred and George both noticed you begin to space out at times, giving off almost this sad look. Whenever they’d talk to you though, you looked at them like you normally would. Something was wrong. They could feel it. It wasn’t until they met your father at the station they realized what was going on. He seemed to snap at you a lot, making you go completely silent. To anyone that didn’t know you this was a normal response. To the boys though, you always had something to say. If you were quiet, this was because you were afraid. Not disciplined. You sat on the train in complete silence. Neither of the boys were sure if they should ask you about your dad. You focused on the rain drops on the window. “I’ve always liked the rain. What about you guys?” You finally asked. “Makes me tired as shit.” George said making you crack a smile. “Heard one of Harry’s uncles is teaching this year.” Fred said. “I think I remembered him mentioning that. The Remus guy?” You asked. “He’s standing in while Quirrell is away.” George nodded. “As long as it isn’t like last year’s substitute.” You groaned. “Fucking Gilderoy.” All of you said in unison making each other laugh. “I swear a simple breeze makes Quirrell catch something.” George sighed. “He does end up getting sick a lot. Remember when he got chicken pox?” You asked. “You would’ve thought the bastard was dying.” Fred nodded. ”He has the immune system of an infant, I swear.” you laughed.

You all sat around in the Great Hall, you catching a glimpse of who the new substitute professor was. He had a scar on his face and it reminded you of something. You just couldn’t figure out what. Eventually though, you came to like the way Remus taught. He had a sense of humor. Not that Quirrell didn’t it was just very awkward when he did finally crack a damn joke. Remus rose a brow when he saw your first and last name on the roll call. “Miss Y/n, is your mother perhaps Persephone L/n?” Remus asked. Fred rose a brow. “She was sir.” you said, making George look up. “Was?” Remus asked. “She passed on when I was eight sir. Why, did you know her?” you asked, earning a couple of students to glance at your response. “I did. Very kind woman. Who did she marry?” Remus asked. “Cassian Lestrange sir.” You responded, making everyone now halt. “...I see.” Remus nodded. “Something wrong?” You asked. “No offense.. I truly mean none. But I genuinely cannot see Cassian as a father.” Remus admitted. You nodded looking down. “He’s... An interesting man.” You muttered, your look distant and pained. Remus noticed, but changed the subject. Fred looked back at his desk. He had no idea about any of this, much less a distant relation to Draco. Judging by your reaction to the questions though, Fred decided it was best to leave it be. You enjoyed Remus’ class, him noticing a few similarities to your mother as you interacted with other students. You always had a smile on your face when you spoke to others. But the one thing he always noticed was the looks that you and Fred would share. George usually paired up with a girl but Fred ALWAYS paired up with you. You two worked well together. It almost reminded him of two other people he knew... Today though, wasn’t the best of days. It was time to practice Boggarts. You already knew what yours was, but you weren’t ready to exactly displayed to the class. You however walked forward and did it anyways, holding your breath as the Boggart began to shift. Finally it did.

Into your father. You opened your mouth to say a spell but nothing came out, your hands shaking as it inched forward. Fred looked at you and then the boggart, quickly pulling you back with one arm and shouting “riddikulus”. You couldn’t still your breathing and it only seemed to be getting worse. “Y/n? Look at me.” Fred said, ignoring the students watching you. Remus locked the closet and you hyperventilated. “Class dismissed.” Remus said, shuffling the other students out. “I-I can’t-- b-breathe.” you whimpered. George ran over and you gripped your head. “Y/n. I’m right here Love, follow my breathing.” Fred said softly. You followed his movements. “What’s your favorite book?” George asked making Remus raise a brow. “S-sense and Sensibility.” You answered, still regulating your breathing. “Personally I’m more of a short story man, what about you Freddie?” George asked. “Not big on reading. More of a napping fellow.” Fred answered. You let out a small laugh and straightened your posture. “What’s your favorite class?” Fred asked. “P-probably this one.. with the exception of t-today.” you answered. Remus reached into his drawer and handed you chocolate and a bottled water. “Thank you professor.” You muttered. You sat down and sighed. “Y/n... I hate to ask this, truly I do. But is there anything going on at home?” Remus asked. You didn’t say anything. “I... Don’t want to answer that question.” You finally said. Fred frowned and George exchanged a look. “Boys, do you mind leaving us for a few moments?” Remus asked. Fred kneeled to you, looking at your face. “I’ll be outside if you need me. Okay?” He asked. You nodded and he got up, leaving with George.

The door closed and Fred let out a long sigh. “I am going to kill her father, want to help?” Fred said. “Hand me a shovel.” George said simply. “Why didn’t she say anything?” Fred asked. “She doesn’t even want to talk to Lupin Fred. You saw her face, she most likely didn’t want to remember.” George said. Fred looked at the door and sighed. “We can’t let her go home George. Not this summer.” Fred said. “I’m with you.” George agreed. The two boys became a bit more protective over you. But they found it so strange that you still kept the happy go lucky personality despite going through all of this. Then Fred found you one night in the astronomy tower with a blanket. You were propped up against one of the stone arch’s and looking at the night sky. “Y/n?” Fred asked. You looked over at him. “Hey Fred.” You said with that smile. He sat across from you. “What brings you up here?” Fred asked. “Insomnia. And cookies.” You said. “Cookies?” Fred asked. You scooched closer to him, pushing a tin of cookies to him. He took one and you sighed looking at the stars. “Can I ask you something?” He said. “Sure.” You nodded. “What keeps that smile on your face all the time?” He asked. You let out a long breath, thinking over a detailed answer. “Lots of reasons. I have two kickass best friends that will fight for me no matter what, I have really cool teachers, I have friends who are like family.” you answered. “But... I keep that smile because some times someone just needs to see the good in the world. I won’t lie to you. My life is much darker than I think you accounted for. But if my smile provides someone else some light then damn it I’ll keep this up.” You said. Fred looked at you surprised. “Y/n...” He muttered. You looked at Fred and he said nothing, pulling you into his arms. You slowly hugged him back and he sighed. “I swear if anyone tries anything with you again, I will personally send them to their grave.” Fred said making you laugh. “I’m serious!” Fred said, not being able to keep a straight face seeing your smile. “Shut up and take a cookie.” You laughed.

You two were found passed out the next morning my Luna. You were in Fred’s arms and he was holding you close. You two never brought it up, despite the fact that both of you were blushing like crazy when you woke up. It was now CRYSTAL fucking clear how Fred felt about you to George after witnessing a snowball fight between you two that resulted in Fred tickling your sides and making you laugh during a Hogsmeade trip. You smiled in his arms, faces inches apart. If Fred and George’s jackass brother hadn’t gotten into a fight with Draco, George was 95% sure you two would’ve kissed.

You seemed distracted by something else though, and that was your professor. The scar on his face- why did it look familiar? And why was Remus going to Snape for a secret potion? You noticed that he was pretty secretive about his personal life and Harry never answered the question of where the mark came from. You took what you like to call “The Granger Approach.” Which was basically reading until you had a reliable answer. Fred sat with you the entire time, napping or talking to George while you read. Both boys were passed out by the time you found an answer. “Oh... Shit.” you realized, making Fred open an eye. “Find what you’re looking for?” George yawned. “...Yeah and I think Remus is going to be absent tomorrow.” You said looking at the full moon through the large glass windows. “Why’s that?” Fred asked. “He’s a werewolf.” You said in a whisper. Both boys looked at you with a “You can’t be serious” expression. “What makes you say that?” Fred asked. “Ron said something. Harry’s class saw his boggart. It was the moon.” You said. George blinked. “If our little brother is your proof that’s not exactly reliable.” George said. “How do you explain the potions he gets from Snape, or the scar on his face, or the fact that he was leaving campus this afternoon?” You asked. “He was?” Fred asked. “He was sneaking around but I noticed him.” You shrugged. “Alright. Say he doesn’t show up tomorrow. Who fills in for a substitute?” George asked. “Probably Snape.” you grumbled. “You’re a Slytherin and you don’t like Snape? My God you really are a strange one.” Fred teased making you smile. George rolled his eyes. “Do we ask him about this?” George asked. “No. We leave this alone unless Remus needs help.” you said. “How in the hell were you not sorted into Hufflepuff? Like honestly?” Fred asked. “I have no idea. Luna says its never wrong though.” You shrugged.

Sure enough, Remus didn’t show up and Snape took over class that day. Fred, George and you all exchanged knowing glances but overall didn’t say anything. The school year finally came to a close and you were honestly sad to see Remus go. The crazy thing was: That day when you explained your boggart to Remus, he told you that his door was open to you if you needed to leave home. You declined but Fred was hellbent on you staying with them for the summer. He hated the idea of you being potentially in harm’s way. This offer you accepted. You showed up, bags in hand with that same beautiful smile. Molly was of course excited to see you and you were happy to be there. The Burrow honestly felt like home. You and Fred had so many moments though that made the whole family go “Dude. Kiss already. PLEASE.” Specifically when you saw a spider and screamed, practically climbing up Fred while he killed the damn thing. “You managed to go into the forbidden forest alone and came back unscathed but a small spider scares you?” Fred asked, your legs having a death grip around his torso. “THEY ARE FUCKING CREEPY FRED!” You whined. “It’s smaller than you!” He laughed, holding you up. “SO IS A GRENADE!” you whined. You hopped down and eyed the dead spider. “Afraid it’ll crawl--” “FRED IT HAD BABIES!” You screamed, climbing right back up him, more directed to his face. “Oh for Christ’s sake--” He said, enchanting a broom to sweep them out. “You’re a Slytherin. All of you have creepy creatures for pets and you are terrified of..” “Fred faced you as you were linked to his side, inches away from him. You looked in his eyes, almost as if you were looking for something, swallowing hard. “What the hell happened here?” Ron asked, seeing the two of you. “I saw a spider.” “OH GOD WHERE--”

George was tired of this tension. Yes, it was cute to see his brother head over heels. But my GOD WERE YOU FUCKING DENSE. BOTH OF YOU. How could you two have so many OBVIOUS moments that would make people who barely knew you go “Oh so they like each other” But you two still be clueless to the other’s intentions. You two also talked endlessly to George and Ginny. Both of them would sit there listening wanting to say something, but kept their oaths of silence. This year things were bound to change though. You see: this year was a Triwizard tournament. Other schools were coming to this shindig. And a boy from Durmstrang seemed awfully fixated on you. You were friendly, inviting him to sit and Fred would just be internally screaming the whole time watching you. The Durmstrang boy would do things that literally made Fred’s eye fucking twitch: playing with your hair, complimenting your smile, constantly looking at you. You were oblivious to this being flirty though, unaware of the boy’s crush on you. Finally one day Fred had to talk to you about it. He could not stand watching this little fucker with you. “You should talk to her Fred. Tell her how you feel.” George said. “And if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Fred asked. George practically slammed his head down onto the table in frustration, releasing a long groan. “JUST. ASK. HER.” George whined, making Fred jump. “Good God man, what’s gotten into you!?” Fred asked. “NOTHING FRED. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.” George groaned, getting up and making Ginny nearly die of silent laughter.

You were in the library, grabbing a few books for a herbology project when Fred popped up, scaring the shit out of you. “Christ! Say something when you’re behind me!” You breathed. “Sorry! Sorry.” Fred apologized. “What do you need?” You asked curiously. “What’s going on with you and that Durmstrang kid?” Fred asked. “What do you mean?” you asked, moving down the aisle, looking for a specific book. “Do you like him?” Fred asked. “He’s cool.” You shrugged. “Not like that Y/n.” Fred huffed. “Like what?” You asked. “Romantically. Do you like him romantically?” Fred asked. “Wha-- no!” You gagged. Fred felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Why did you want to know?” You asked. “It’s just... He acts like he likes you. That’s all.” Fred said. You stopped and turned around, a questioning squint on your face. “Would it have bothered you if I did?” You asked. “Yes.” Fred answered, no hesitation in his words. “Why?” you asked. Fuck. Fred did not think this through. “It just would’ve.” Fred said. “Again, why would this have bothered you?” You asked. “No particular reason!” He lied. “Answer the god damn question before I ask out Luka out of spite!” You snapped. “You do that and I ask Angela out!” He said back. You glared. “Oh that bothers you!?” Fred noticed the expression. “Yes it bothers me!” You said. “Why!?” Fred asked. “I asked you first, you dolt!” You said. Both of you were quickly becoming aggravated, glaring at each other. Fred couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his lips onto yours, resulting in you dropping the book in your hands and cupping his cheeks. You two eventually pulled away for this stupid thing called air and you let out a small laugh. “Well shit Fred, if you would’ve just started with that I wouldn’t have had to ask.” You laughed. He smiled, his hands around your waist. “You’re lucky we’re in public or else I would’ve done a lot more than that Princess.” Fred said in your ear. You looked at him with a smirk “If I knew making you jealous would make you act like this, my God I would’ve made friends with this kid ages ago.” You laughed. “Oh bite your tongue.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m thinking I leave that to you.” you teased. He shook his head, kissing you again.

George caught you two and he actually screamed “HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH” at the top of his lungs, making both of you jump. You three ended up in detention (you and Fred were in trouble for the book mess), George telling you two how the past few months were absolute hell. “I have been watching you two jackasses, trying to get you to DATE since LAST JANUARY. IT’S OCTOBER.” George complained. “It wasn’t that bad!” You laughed. “Not that bad-- NOT THAT BAD!? FRED TALKS MY GOD DAMN EAR OFF ABOUT YOU AT NIGHT-- I DON’T SLEEP” George whined. “Has he now?” You asked, smirking at Fred who was smiling. “You’re always on the bastard’s mind! And I have to listen to Ginny complain to me with the same issue-- ‘Y/n was talking about Fred again to Hermione. Something about if given the chance she’d definitely shag him’.” George quoted making you choke on air and cough as Fred looked at you with an amused smirk. “Would you now?” Fred asked. You rolled your eyes “What was it you said to me a few hours ago-- ‘You’re lucky we’re in public or else--’” “I remember what I said Darling, I just wanted to know where your mind was.” Fred teased. “Oh you know exactly what I’m thinking you little shit.” You griped making him snort. “Oh God Mcgonagall better come back soon, I’m locked in a room with two randy jackasses.” George prayed aloud. “Relax we’re not going to shag.” Fred said. “Thank god.” George sighed. “That’s not until three.” Fred yawned making you snort and George slammed his head on his desk. “DRINK HOLY WATER YOU UNGODLY SINNERS”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.18}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The way back to the castle was quick and they arrived just in time for dinner, but still made their ways into the great hall separately like they usually did. All the way, Robin couldn't help smiling to herself, not even as she sat down with her friends, who resided at the Slytherin table today.

It took them two seconds to notice her unusually good mood and another to comment on it, but Robin just explained that she'd had a nice day in Hogsmeade and an enjoyable walk back. Jorien snorted in return, Cas frowned, and Simon did both at once, while Michael and Gideon simply didn't know Robin well enough to be aware of the fact that she hated shopping, and designated Hogsmeade days even more. Jorien was quick to explain that fact to them however, and Robin just shrugged it off with another smile. She did add then that she'd mostly enjoyed intimidating a shop owner to accept her terms of a bargain –she did not give details on either though– and her friends finally agreed that this already sounded a whole lot more like the Robin they knew.

Dinner was mostly amicable chatter and talk about tomorrow's tutoring then, as well as a ridiculously serious discussion between Jorien and Gideon about an incident they'd all heard of somehow –involving two sixth years, a dark hallway past curfew, some certain body parts and an enlargement charm– which resulted in second-hand embarrassment for Robin, Michael and Simon, and a giggling fit for Cas. Honestly, Jorien was all facts and no emotion sometimes, Cas just didn't possess a sense of shame, and Gideon obviously went to great lengths to win an argument, no matter how ridiculous it was. The other three just had to bear it out. Robin cringed at the mental images the discussion was giving her, but on the other hand she found it entertaining to see Jorien winning the argument with such an ease. It made her feel proud of the girl, if nothing else.

Finally when dinner was over and the group once again among the last to leave, the boys decided that they would tag along for tutoring in the morning, mainly for the sake of getting help with a charms and herbology assignment on Simon's and Michael's end respectively. Robin absolutely didn't mind going over some NEWT topics as well if they wanted her to, and while she immediately placed the disclaimer that she was only a year ahead and might not even be of any actual help to them at all, the five people in front of her simply laughed at that statement. Obviously neither of them believed her to be 'just a year ahead' for real, and while she felt very much flattered by their confidence in her, she also wasn't quite sure if she would actually be able to meet their ridiculously high expectations. Oh well… an issue for another day.

From there, the girls made their way down to the dungeons like every night, with Robin coming along for half of the way, and upon their usual question about her plans for the evening, she told them that Snape and her were in the process of experimenting with some new substances and she thus couldn't say when she would be returning to her dorm. A beautiful way to shape the truth, she thought, and the girls did as they ought to by shrugging it off as another ordinary night of her work. They did her the favour of taking her winter robes back to their room though, when Robin bid them goodnight and went ahead to let herself into the office.

"Don't get settled, we aren't staying." Snape said the moment she closed the door behind herself, and the smirk was back on her lips in no time, but it was dimmed down again when she saw the annoyed frown on his face that accompanied the statement.

"What's the matter? Change in whatever plans you made?"

"Indeed." He grumbled, picking up a stack of notebooks, and then ushered her straight back out into the hallway, where he followed before locking the door to the office. "Poppy is out of calming draught and pepperup potion, and she believes it to be of vital importance to stock up on both tonight. Idiotic, if they would ask me, but unfortunately no one ever does. So lab work it is."

Robin only groaned under her breath and rolled her eyes while her feet carried her towards the lab on autopilot already, with Snape following right behind her. So much for excitement… making both potions and having them ready for delivery would take hours! But it was their job after all. Actually, it was his job and she just couldn't be bothered to stop doing it together with him.

"I hope she at least knows that she owes you for making us do this on a bloody Saturday night." Robin sighed when she finally dropped her backpack in its usual corner in the lab, then pulled her wand out of her sleeve, put her hair up into a messy knot, and finally rolled up her sleeves all in the usual practiced movements. When her eyes lifted from her arms up to Snape however, to see why he wasn't answering, she found him still standing with his back to the closed door, observing her in rapt serenity. The sight sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, but she refused to let it distract her from the task at hand as she moved towards the tables to set up for the impending work. "If you just keep standing there like a pillar of salt we'll never get this done, you know… And I was actually kinda hoping we would get to continue with whatever plans you've made once we're done here."

"We certainly will." He finally replied as he snapped out of his freeze, lips curling into a not-smirk while he mirrored her actions and rolled up his sleeves as well. He had started doing that more often ever since summer, whenever they had practical work to do in the safe solitude of the lab, and Robin felt a certain pride in the knowledge that he was comfortable enough around her by now to do so. Now was no different, and she smiled to herself as she was about to get started.

"Which one would you like me to make?" She asked while he was still setting up next to her. "Any preference?"

"Your pick."

"Again? You're being suspiciously gracious today, and I'm not sure if I want to know why… I'm not dying again, am I?" She sent him a small smirk, but went straight on. "I'll do the calming draught then. Pepperup always makes me sneeze like crazy."

"I know. It is ironic, really."

"Very funny, yes, absolutely hilarious." She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but smiled nonetheless as she got started picking out the ingredients. For these kinds of potions, the infirmary's stock and all the ones taught in class, she had long passed the point of needing instructions at all.

The brewing was a running routine by now, and even if Robin had been hoping for a different pastime for tonight, she still found herself enjoying the work as always. It wasn't the most interesting thing to make standard type potions, admittedly, but just working in the lab together with Snape never failed to be a delight in its own right. Before long they were at the point of simply having to wait while the potions simmered quietly in their cauldrons, and while Robin went to write the labels, Snape started grading the notebooks he had brought. Occasionally he grumbled to himself about whatever idiotic thing some student had written in their essay this time, and Robin always found herself amused by his annoyance. There was little else to do than listening to his remarks after all, seeing as writing labels was a repetitive process she might as well have charmed her quill to do by itself. But then she would be left without anything to do at all, and that wouldn't be an improvement either. Thus she just dipped her quill into the inkwell once more with a silent sigh, when suddenly the comfortable calm of the lab was disturbed by a harsh and repeated knocking on the door. That almost never happened.

Robin jumped a little, but stayed sitting on her stool while Snape grumbled to himself again and went to snap at whoever was bothering them with tangible annoyance radiating off him in an invisible cloud. The very second Robin lifted her gaze from the labels to him however, by chance more than intentionally, something in her mind clicked together at the sight of him almost having reached the door. Without a second thought she dropped the quill and bolted, barely still barging in between Snape and the door before he could open it. Her momentum had her back crashing against the wood in a loud rattle, and she found herself once again standing chest to chest with him, trying to catch her breath as she looked up with wide eyes. His scowl had disappeared entirely, only to be replaced by genuinely shocked surprise. Bloody hell, his face was so close to her own… not even a breath away now. A second passed in silence, and her eyes flickered down to his lips ever so briefly, but she just couldn't help it. Her heart skipped a beat, adrenaline running through her veins like sweetest poison, and she finally remembered why she had brought herself into this situation in the first place.

He still looked like a deer in the headlights when Robin wrapped a reluctant hand around his forearm, then dropped her gaze down to the minimal space between them entirely as she carefully rolled his sleeves down again. It took him a few seconds to catch on to her gesture, but then he helped her by closing a few of the buttons at least before repeating the process on the other side himself at a much faster pace. The entire moment didn't last longer than a few seconds, even though it seemed to span enteritis in Robin's mind, and once the task was accomplished, Snape took a step backwards for Robin to move away from the door to allow him to open up at last.

Bloody hell… Robin's heart was still jumping out of her chest, and her insides had liquified entirely as she went to sit back down on her stool. That had been a very close call on two ends, and she took deep breaths to regain some composure at least while resting her forearms on the tabletop. The area where she had dropped the quill was covered in tiny black speckles, as were her forearms, but for some miraculous reason the labels had been spared at least. Good… things were good. Slowly her heartbeat calmed down to a normal pace again, and her brain started working like it ought to as well. When she finally was in a place of mind to pay attention to what was happening at the door, it was thrown shut already though, and Snape returned to his place next to her at the table in silence.

"What was that about?" She asked as calmly as she could, studying how the frown stayed on his face even as he was sitting down next to her again.

"Nothing of importance." He answered quickly, but then sighed as he seemed to think better of it. They were past the point of only sharing important things with each other… long past it, actually. "Pomona informed me that she would like to keep a small group of fifth years in the greenhouse after curfew tomorrow evening and I gave my approval."

"Ah." Robin replied under her breath, but didn't know what else to say on the issue and thus merely let her gaze drop to the labels again, without picking up the quill though. For a few seconds it was quiet, but she could tell by the tension surrounding them that he wanted to say something, and she would give him all the time he needed to do so. Pushing him never worked in her favour anyway, but giving him space usually did.

"Thank you. For keeping an eye on me." He finally started, in a calm tone now but still with a frown on his face. "Such carelessness on my part has never happened before, and it certainly will not be happening again."

"You were caught up in your thoughts, that happens to everyone at some point. It's not worth being upset over now. And of course I'm keeping an eye on you! It's what we always do, both of us. You know that." She returned a soft smile, reassuring and calm and affectionate in that way that was only reserved for him. "I'm just sorry I jumped at you like a maniac."

It took a few seconds, but then his frown loosened up slowly and the not-smirk returned to his lips. "I didn't mind that, actually."

Robin's smile turned into a smirk as well, and then she just had to laugh. "Of course you didn't… You're insufferable, you know?"

"That would be my line."

"Well, I'm stealing it now. We're both insufferable, that's just the way things are." She said with a nonchalant shrug, turning back to pick up her quill and write her labels with a lingering smirk now, and out of the corners of her eyes, she could see that the same expression was gracing his features as well, as he went to continue grading the essays.

They finished their work in the usual calm contentment, first the grading and the labels –while occasional mocking some dunderhead students– before finally bottling the finished potions. It was shortly before midnight when they were done at last, when the bottles were neatly boxed up to be delivered. They spontaneously decided that Robin would be the one to take them to the infirmary, while Snape wanted to clean up the lab and return the notebooks to the office. Moments later she was as good as gone, carefully balancing four smaller cardboard boxes in her arms as she quickly made her way through the dark castle and towards the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was delighted as always when Robin staggered through the heavy doors in an attempt not to drop everything, and whispered many thanks while helping her sort the boxes into the storage shelves. Robin took note of the fact that by now the entire stock had her handwriting on it indeed, and it probably had been that way for a while. She smiled at the realisation, not without a certain sense of pride, and after bidding the matron goodnight, she was leaving again already.

On her way back down to the dungeons though, Robin almost ran into Morgan, who obviously was assigned to patrol the castle tonight. She was just rounding a corner when he suddenly stood right in front of her, but he was luckily looking into the other direction, which gave her enough time to jump back around the corner and hide away in one of the darkest alcoves. Thank heaven or hell for her by now decent ability to move silently, which she had somehow made a habit of practicing ever since she started spending every night in the lab or the office. Over the years she had gotten quite good at it, not as good as Snape obviously, but good enough for Morgan to walk past her now without having noticed her presence. Thank God… Only once she couldn't hear his doorstep anymore, she finally dared to move out of her alcove and continue her way down to the dungeons almost in a run. She really wasn't up for another nightly encounter with Morgan, especially not if he was actually patrolling the castle tonight. She would just have to be careful, and keep an eye on her surroundings.

And yet, just when she hasted along the last hallway in the dungeons before finally being back at the office, she made the mistake of looking back over her shoulder when rounding the last corner and promptly ran into the familiar wall of black. It had been a while since that had last happened, and this time, instead of letting her tumble down to the floor in her immediate loss of balance, his arm was around her waist in an instant, keeping her upright and securely on her feet. At first Robin let out a startled yelp, but after the second it took her brain to register that she knew that arm around her as well as the scent that was overwhelming her senses now, she didn't even need to look at Snape for her body to relax already.

"Didn't we say we would meet at the office?" She finally asked, barely above a whisper but with a smile in relief and a scowl in feigned complaint nonetheless. His arm disappeared from around her, unfortunately, and he took a step backwards to inspect her with a curious frown.

"We did, but you were taking longer than expected, which usually means that either something or someone has happened to you. I merely wanted to see if you were alright." He said in a quiet tone, glancing down the dark hallway that stretched into blackness behind Robin.

"I'm good… but only barely." She sighed, and his eyes found hers again within a second. "I almost ran into Morgan, he's patrolling tonight. Had to hide for a while until he was gone."

"That would explain the delay. I take it then that he didn't see you?"

"No, he walked right past me. But knowing him, that might just have been part of his game. So I was somewhere between panicking and in a haste to get back here."

"Understandable. Let's see to it that we stay out of his way." He said, then the subtle not-smirk returned to his lips. "We still have plans for tonight after all, and I don't want him, or anyone else for that matter, to interrupt those yet again."

Robin's heart skipped a beat upon his words, and once again the anxiety was making way for suspense and excitement. But at the same time, the spark of amusement in his eyes made her smirk in return. "Since you refuse to tell me what we will be doing, you'll have to lead the way. If you don't wanna stand in the hallway all night, that is."

With an exaggerated eye rolling but the same not-smirk, he motioned for her to come along, stopping again a few more steps down the path to retrieve Robin's backpack from the office first, but much to her surprise they then continued on to make their way through the dark hallways until at last they arrived in front of his rooms. Her heart skipped yet another beat, and she tried not to grin like an idiot while he unlocked the door and then let her go in first. This was an interesting development of things… one she certainly didn't mind in the least. She'd been wondering ever since Thursday night when she would get to come back here, but she honestly hadn't expected that moment to arrive so soon. With the biggest smile on her face she dropped down on the sofa and watched him light up the fireplace before taking off his robes and coat and neatly folding both pieces over a chair. It left him in that linen shirt he had also been wearing on Thursday night when she'd come here unannounced, and when he went to roll up the sleeves of that now again, Robin couldn't help but watch in amazement. At some point that gesture had become ridiculously attractive, just like the whole act of him taking off the many layers of black, and she didn't know if it was the gesture itself that had her marvelling or the level of comfort it represented. Both, probably. Her heart was soaring either way.

"You sit there like you have been summoned to the headmaster's office." He finally said, in a taunting voice, while moving about in search of something. "You've never been shy in a space of mine before, so just get comfortable already, will you?"

"If you insist." She chuckled, and toed off her boots first before crossing her legs on the sofa, when suddenly an idea struck her that made her smirk again. Placing her bag in her lap, she first dug out the bottle of firewhisky and set it down next to her, then went to dig deeper. So deep, in fact, that she finally had to stick her head in too, to find what she was looking for. The sofa next to her dipped down, she heard glass rattling, and finally her hand touched what she was looking for. With a victorious smile, she pulled out one item after the other, and set them all down on the ground beneath her before finally surfacing out of the bag again and putting it aside. She was met with Snape's undoubtedly humoured and slightly defeated expression.

"Of course you have a record player in your bag… Why am I even surprised at this point." He sighed to himself, while Robin went to kneel down on the floor to set the whole thing up.

"You like Queen, don't you?" She grinned up at him, but picked out the according record anyway, without waiting for an answer. Half a minute later the music started floating around them at a moderate volume, even though Robin was rather sure that there were multiple silencing charms placed on the room. Still didn't mean it was necessary that they'd have to shout over the music to talk. Then she moved the entire setup to the nearest wall, thus out of the way, and finally sat down on the sofa again, with her legs crossed like before. "There, now you've got proof that I'm comfortable enough to seize the silence. Better now?"

"Indeed." He nodded, while handing Robin an empty glass. "Even though half of the school would likely consider it a sacrilege to play muggle music inside the castle."

"Oh come on, you can't honestly tell me that they wrote their music without the help of magic!" She grinned in return and traced the edges of the glass with her fingertips. "Besides, I don't remotely care about anyone's opinion on my taste in music. Well, actually I do care about your opinion on mostly everything… Do you mind muggle music?"

"No. I only mind bad music."

"See! Can't argue with good taste." Robin shrugged with a smirk. "Talking about taste, what's with the empty glass?"

"I thought we would continue our experiments from earlier today." The smirk was on his face in an instant, fully mirroring hers for once, even if with a touch more mischief to it. "I have a few more liquors I would like you to try. If by the end of it you still choose to go with firewhisky, I won't lose another word of complaint."

"Alright, sounds fair enough. But you gotta try them with me, yes?"

He held up his own glass while quirking an eyebrow at her in reply, then summoned the first bottle from one of the shelves. Robin couldn't help grinning to herself, then down at her glass. This was going to be a very interesting night, no matter what happened from here on, that much at least was for sure. And quite honestly, she already couldn't wait for whatever was to come.

______________________________

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 4

3rd Person POV

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers follow Harry from the moment he and Ron left their dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms standing on tip-toe to get a look at him. Harry wishes they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, Harry thinks, because it all seems to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and (Y/N) and Hermione were sure that the suits of amour would walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist when you were late to class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The only person that Peeves seemed to get along with was, strangely, (Y/N). When she would pass by him in the halls, he would ask how her day was going. The first time, (Y/N) was shocked, looking surprised at the poltergeist, then she nodded saying, "Uh, its going pretty well."

Even worse than Peeves, Harry thinks, if that was possible, was the caretaker Argus Filch. Harry and Ron manage to get on the wrong side of him on their first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, he was sure that they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone – except perhaps the Weasley twins – and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Marvel, (Y/n)'s black and white kitten had taken to attacking the dust colored feline whenever she had the chance.

Then, once you manage to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

(Y/N) enjoyed Wednesday nights where they went out to the tallest tower and learned the names of different planets and stars. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class, in (Y/N)'s eyes, was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns hand been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while the students scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione had told (Y/N) that she actually liked the class, and (Y/N) looked down at her.

"Honestly, Hermione," (Y/N) teases, "I'm not surprised."

One of (Y/N)'s favorite classes so far had to be Charms. Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, (Y/N) rolling her eyes.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she tells them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then, she changes her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon they realized that they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After they take a lot of complicated notes, they were given a match and told to start turning it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger, and (Y/N) (L/N)-Granger had made any differences to their match. Professor McGonagall shows the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gives the two a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turn out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, hand been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell goes pink, and starts talking about the weather. For another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron, the two had managed to find their way to the Great hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asks Ron as he pours sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answers. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," says Harry. Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor House, but it didn't stop her from giving them a huge pile of homework the night before.

Just then, the mail arrives. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She would sometimes fly in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she flutters down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and drops a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tears open the letter at once, and it says, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry, borrowing Ron's quill, scribbles, Yes, please, see you later on the back fo the note, and sends Hedwig off again.

(Y/n), who was sitting across from Harry and Ron, and between Hermione and Fred Weasley, had just received a letter herself.

Dear (Y/n),

My name is Remus Lupin. You mother named me as you godfather, and I was good friends with both your mother and Harry Potter's parents when I was at Hogwarts.

I left you a box of presents and letter in you Gringotts vault, in a large wooden box. I didn't know if you had picked it up or not, but I decided that it was time that I sent you a letter at school. I hope you're doing well.

Love,

Uncle Remus

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him.

Potions lesson took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call and like Flitwick, he pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he says softly, "Harry Potter, our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. Snape finishes calling the names and looks up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made (Y/N) think of a dark tunnel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the Potion Master begins. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence follows this little speech. Harry and Ron exchange looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione and Iliana were on the edges of their seats and Hermione looks desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" says Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glances at Ron, who looks as stumped as he was; Hermione, Iliana, and (Y/N) had all raised their hands.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't anything."

He ignores Hermione and (Y/n)'s hands, his gaze flicking between Harry and (Y/N)'s hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asks.

Hermione's hand stretched higher into the air, as far as it would go without her leaving her seat and (Y/N) leaves her hand into the air.

Harry didn't have to faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answers.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape taunts, (Y/N) frowning slightly.

Harry forces himself to keep looking into Snape's cold, dark eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's hand, still glancing between Harry and (Y/N).

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asks, and (Y/N) and Hermione's hands remained in the air, Hermione standing up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon's ceiling.

"I don't know," says Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and (Y/N) know, why don't you try them?"

A few people laugh; Harry catches (Y/n)'s eye, and she winks at him. Snape however was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snaps at Hermione, "(L/N), answer the questions," Snape says, his head snapping to look at (Y/N).

(Y/N) straightens her back, clears her throat. "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, but they also go by aconite. A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat that will save you from most poisons, and asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong that it is called the Draft of Living Death." (Y/N) rattles off, Harry and Ron exchanging shocked looks.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor," Snape says to (Y/N), before snapping at the other students, "Well, why aren't you coping that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, and over the noise, Snape says, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor because of Potter's cheek." At this, (Y/N) turns around from her place in front of Ron, and smiles sympathetically at him.

Things didn't really improve much for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape set the first-years into pairs and set them to mixing a potion to cure boils, sweeping around in his black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush shake fang, criticizing everyone but Malfoy and (Y/N), whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at how well (Y/N) had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing fills the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools wile Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moans in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarls Snape, clearing the potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpers as boils start popping up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the Hospital Wing," Snape snaps at Seamus. Then he rounds on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd made you look good if helot it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry thinks this is so unfair, he opens his mouth to argue, but Ron kicks him from behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," Ron mutters as (Y/N) turn around to look at him, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As the first years climb the stairs out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racking and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much? At least (Y/N) had won those ten points for Gryffindor.

"Cheer up," Ron tells Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" he asks.

(Y/n)'s POV

Hermione and I are walking up from the dungeons behind Harry and Ron after the end of Potions Class.

"I noticed something strange," Hermione says.

"What?" I ask.

"Professor Snape seems to like you a lot," Hermione says, looking at me with her brown eyes.

"That was kind of weird," I agree, looking forward, then back at Hermione.

"Maybe he was wondering how you got to be so good at Potions," Hermione suggests. "You were the only one of us with a perfect potion."

"Yeah, that must have been it," I say as we enter the Great Hall.

After lunch, the two of us walk outside to sit by the Black Lake. I see Ron and Harry walking down to Hagrid's Hut, and I hear a faint barking coming from the same direction.

"Hello (Y/n)," comes one, well two, voices.

I look up to see the Weasley twins standing above me and my sister.

"Hey Fred, George," I answer cheerfully.

"Whacha first years doing out here?" Fred asks.

"Well, the first week of school is over," Hermione begins, her frizzy hair blowing in the wind.

"So we're enjoying the last of the summer air," (Y/n) finishes for her sister.

"(Y/n), we have a question for you," George says.

"What?" I ask curiously.

Fred and George look at each other before saying in unison, "Do you like funeral marches.

Hermione bursts into laughter at the question, and Fred and George sit down beside the two of us.

"Well, of course," I say, grinning. "It's my favorite song," I begin to hum a slow funeral march, and the Weasley twins join in, Hermione exchanges a look with me, shrugs, then joins in.

Word Count: 2887 words

Well, I'll see you see on the next chapter.

See y'all!

Love,

Kaitlynn ❤️😍

#hermione granger #hermione granger x sister reader #harry potter various x reader #harry potter #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley

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gaygryffindorgal · 3 years

Photo

HPHM character profile

Identity

Name: Verna Aelia Malinda

Gender: cis female

Age: Depends on the timeline

Birth Date: December 15th, 1972 (Sagittarius)

Species: Human witch

Blood Status: Half-blood but thought to be pureblood by the Wizarding community.

Sexuality: Lesbian

Alignment: Chaotic good

Ethnicity: Mixed (black mother, mixed father)

Nationality: British

Residence: The Malinda Manor, somewhere in the English countryside

Myer Briggs Personality Type: The Protagonist (ENFJ)

The Mage

1st Wand: Hornbeam, 11 inches, dragon heartstring, unyielding

2nd Wand: Ebony, 11 ¼ inches, dragon heartstring, unyielding

Animagus: Calico cat

Misc Magical Abilities: -

Boggart Form: Evil!Jacob turning against her.

Riddikulus Form: Evil!Jacob transforms into a tiny, angry kitten.

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?)

Fleetwood's High-Finish Broom Handle Polish

Caramel apples

The orchard behind her childhood home

Amortentia: (What do they smell?)

Nailpolish

Old books

Coffee

Patronus: Calico cat (same as animagus form)

Patronus Memory: A summer day at the Malinda manor when Verna was young, Jacob is teaching her to fly while her parents watch from the sidelines, happy and carefree.

Mirror of Erised: Her family back together again, everyone is safe and content.

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Depulso (the banishing charm), Incendio (the fire-making spell)

Appearance

(I don’t really 100% vibe with her in-game appearence since the hair selection for natural hair is not the best but I make do.)

Height: 5′10 (178cm)

Weight: like normal weight for an athletic girl that tall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Physique: Athletic

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: Black

Skin Tone: Brown with warm undertones

Body Modifications: Earrings, nose ring (6th year onwards), a few tattoos as an adult

Scarring: -

Inventory: Wand, Merula’s gift necklace (5th year onwards), some cat treats for Osborn, random old homework and other pieces of parchment discarded at the bottom of her bag at all times, a bag of apple rings (her favourite sweets).

Fashion:

It’s 1984-1991 and I want jam city to let it show in their quest reward items!!!

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Ilvermorny House: I don’t really vibe with Ilvermony so I have no idea xD

Affiliations/Organizations: Gryffindor house. Gryffindor quidditch team, Malinda family, Circle of Khanna, The Order of Phoenix

Professions: Worked as a Defence Against Dark Arts substitute teacher for a year shortly after Hogwarts, trained to be an auror for a while but dropped out due to disagreements with Ministry policy

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: A

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: P

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Muggle Studies: E

Quidditch:

Verna is the chaser of her house’s quidditch team for most of her Hogwarts career.

Extra-Curricular: Duelling club, Dragon club

Favourite Professors: Minerva McConagall

Least Favourite Professors: Severus Snape, Patricia Rakepick

Relationships

Brother: Jacob Aurelius Malinda

Growing up, Jacob was Verna’s hero. He is five years older than Verna but nevertheless they spent a great deal of time together as children, Jacob often babysitting his sister. Although he was never as much into Quidditch as Verna, he would spend hours teaching her to fly and even take her to watch matches a few years before his disappearance.

Although otherwise short-tempered and rash, Jacob had endless amounts of patience for Verna. With very absent parents, Jacob all but raised Verna from a young age and Verna trusted him to look after her more than their parents, which is why it was shocking to her when he disappeared without a word.

Father: Mervyn Malinda

The sole heir to the Malinda estate, Mervyn is an important character within the Wizard society. However, what the general public doesn’t know, is that he is, in fact, an illegitimate child with a muggle mother. This has been kept secret by his grandmother, father, and step-mother throughout his whole life. The only other person to know the truth since his birthmother’s passing is Juniper, his wife.

Mervyn works as the Head of The Department of Magical Transportation. He is not a very affectionate father, but he tries his best to support his children. Mervyn used to be a Gryffindor.

Mother: Juniper Malinda, née Raeburn

A prominent witch from the pureblood Raeburn family, Juniper married Mervyn Malinda out of love. She is a little eccentric and spends a lot of time working on her potions. For a time, the Malindas had a relatively peaceful life with their two children, up until Jacob went missing. After that, Juniper and Mervyn grew distant and started to argue a lot.

Juniper works as a potioneer and values learning, diligence, and holding onto what you believe. She used to be a Ravenclaw.

Love Interest: Merula Snyde

Verna and Merula start out as rivals but due to having to work together during their search for the cursed vaults, they are forced to spend time together. Both start to develop a crush on the other but are in complete and utter denial about it. Verna is the one to realize her feelings first, and she starts to antagonize Merula just to have tension-filled moments with her, which is a completely normal and rational approach to letting your crush know you like them.

Merula and Verna date in school and a while after it but eventually break up in the turmoils of the war. Depending on the version, they might end up together later on though.

(also, as a sidenote, i headcanon merula as like, really short so this dynamic is so much fun when verna is TALL)

Best Friend: Charlie Weasley

They both like Quidditch and are complete dorks. Worst pair of prefects Gryffindor has ever seen, totally incompetent at their job.

(Is this me projecting my love for Charlie into my OC? Absolutely yes and I have no regrets.)

Rivals: Merula Snyde, Patricia Rakepick

Enemy: Voldemort, R

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Skye Parkin, Eloise Montague, and Yasmin Wakefield (the last two are my ocs just to fill the dorm for my fic but these spots are up for grabs if anyone wants to be dormmates!)

Pets: A black cat called Osborn

Closest Canon Friends: Charlie Weasley, Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper

Closest MC Friends:

Farrow Raeburn @threeon1match

Verna’s cousin from her mother’s side of the family. He is a year younger than Verna and in Slytherin. They are nevertheless close, and Farrow has a huuuge crush on Verna’s cool, dragon-loving friend Charlie.

Background/History

Pre Hogwarts:

Verna had a wealthy childhood in the countryside at the Malinda manor. She had a close friendship with her older brother who taught her to fly her first broom. Verna had a keen interest in learning spells even at a young age, and her parents would often find her using magic before she was allowed to (often with disastrous consequences). The year Verna was meant to start her studies at Hogwarts, her brother went missing and her mother became very distant, while her father acted as if nothing was wrong. Verna became determined to find and rescue her brother.

Hogwarts Years:

If I would get around to publishing my fic maybe you guys would find out!! But the basic skeleton of the storyline follows the game’s events, just modified to suit a different medium and sans all the dumb stuff!!

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War:

Verna works as a substitute teacher in Hogwarts for a year, after which she trains to become an auror. However, she doesn’t like the way things are run at the Ministry, so she quits and moves home to the Manor for a while, trying to figure out what to do with her life. Before she can come to any conclusions though, the Second Wizarding War starts to pick up speed and the secrets her family has kept all these years transform from dangerous to fatal. Verna is recruited into the Order of the Phoenix by her old friend Bill Weasley.

Verna reunites with many of her old friends from school while working in the Order. Her father is killed during the war and her relationship with her mother goes through a lot of turmoil.

Her ultimate fate is not set in stone and in some versions she dies during the war and in others she makes it.

Post-War:

Depends on whether she survives or not. If Verna lives, she will eventually find her path to a teaching position at Hogwarts OR a curse-breaking job with the (much-changed) Ministry.

She also reconciles with her ex Merula, and the two of them get together.

Personality

Positive attributes: caring, brave, selfless, confident, passionate, protective, resourceful. Negative attributes: impatient, impulsive, stubborn, cocky, reckless, competitive, short-tempered.

if you made it this far, wow! congrats! thank you!!!! i love you forever!!!

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #jacob's sibling #*mine #verna malinda #i have been sitting on this post literally for fuckkfkging ever #i read some amazing profiles by awesome people today and finally got the motivation to finish this!!#*hits post and immediately runs and hides under a rock for a week*

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lovelystarlings · 3 years

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Chapter Five - Neville’s Very Clumsy

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The next morning was, eventful, to say the least. Camille had always been an early riser, her parents had insisted on her and sisters waking up at 5 am on the dot every morning, they had said it was to prepare them for when they themselves had families to wake up for but Camille knew it was just to torture them more then her parents already did. So when she woke up the next morning, wrapped in the velvety covers that they were provided, she felt a sense of tranquillity wash over her. There was no nagging mum leaning over her, no crying Gabrielle in the bed next to her and no annoying perfect Fleur singing in the shower for everyone to hear. It was quiet.

Just how she liked it.

Spinning her legs over the edge carefully, trying not to wake up the sleeping Hermione next to her, Camille walked over to the bathroom door that was left open on the opposite side of the strangely large dormitory.

Picking up her uniform on the way, Camille entered the bathroom quietly, looking around in awe at the extravagant manner of the simple room. On the wall facing the door stood four separate sinks, each having a mirror on the wall above and a small chest of drawers underneath them. Seeing as no one had claimed one yet, Camille chose the one closest to the shower, for once getting first choice of something. Placing her wash bag next to the sink, she carefully hung her uniform over the railing by the shower, not wanting to crease it straight away.

Grabbing her hairbrush out of her bag, she began to run it through her hair gently. Having slept with it in plaits had done her a huge favour, the usual straight and thick mess had been tamed into ringlets that now sat elegantly on her shoulders. Pinning her hair back with a clip, leaving the bottom layer down, Camille felt at peace with how she looked today. Sure, she wasn't as beautiful, after all she was only young, but she wasn't necessarily ugly (dear god did she hate that word), and that was enough.

Hearing movement from the room next her, and the familiarity of the other girls voices, she quickly pulled her shirt over her head and her skirt quickly over her hips, Camille turned to the door smiling at Hermione, who seemed shocked that someone was up before her.

"How are you up so early?" She spoke, her hand running through the bundle of curls that sat on top of her head. She walked over to the sink beside the French girl, placing her own stuff down gently.

"You know what they say," spoke Camille, brushing past Hermione with a smirk. "The early bird gets the worm."

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. It also didn't help that Camille knew where none of her classes were. And neither did Hermione, Or Ron. Or Harry.

Though after fumbling about the school for a long time they had managed to find most of their classes. And Camille had discovered a lot about her teachers.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Camille had noticed that Neville particularly enjoyed this one.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up, which didn't help Camille in the slightest considering she had no idea who either of them were.

Professor McGonagall had to be Camille's favourite, however. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Camille had made any difference to their match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Camille a rare smile, both girls giving each other a proud look as they linked arms and skipped off to the next lesson , leaving the boys and their matches far behind.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Camille vaguely remembered her father telling Fleur (and Fleur told her) about an encounter he had with a vampire once, a very lovely vampire he had told her. His name was Carlisle, and he was a doctor. Camille had been shocked that a vampire could be a doctor, but her father had never lied to Fleur once.

Professor Quirrell's turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.

For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Camille had befriended the Weasley Twins then and there, she thought they were charming and funny, and rather attractive if she was honest. They could well be veela, she thought, despite knowing that they were pure blood. She wondered what their mother and father looked like.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Camille and Hermione had been lucky enough to grab seats at the front, neither girls wanting to miss a thing. However, if Camille had known who their Professor was, she would've sat at the back, or even better out of the classroom.

His name was Professor Snape, and he was a tall man, who always seemed to be dressed in a black coat that billowed behind him like the wind itself followed him. His hair was pitch black and greasy, like it hadn't been watched in months, years even.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word, Hermione scribbling down most of it, the sound of her quill annoying Camille slightly, though she didn't say anything. She'd hate to insult the girl. Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Camille heard a loud noise behind her, and turned round to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, shaking with laughter, and she had to hide a snicker herself. The three looked like utter pillocks.

"I don't know, sir."

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling, despite Camille's attempts to calm her down, not wanting her friend to embarrass herself more than she had. She had the feeling someone was gonna snap, whether it be Harry or Snape.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Camille laughed harmoniously at the sass Harry held in his voice, drawing the attention of the class to her. She had forgotten that most of them had probably never heard veela laugh before, and hers probably had a strange effect on the bunch, considering the majority of them were pre-pubescent teenage boys.

"Sorry," she squeaked, and slumped down in her chair. Hermione patting her head patronisingly. Though she too felt strange at the heavenly sound that had escaped the French girl's mouth.

"Sit down and be quiet," he snapped at Camille. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, though Camille had already been making her notes during the commotion. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." Idiote, thought Camille. The poor boy had been living with muggles his whole life, how could Snape thing he'd know the simplest thing about potions. Idiote, she repeated.

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy and Camille who had been paired with the blonde boy, the only two whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Camille flinched, seeing the hurt look on the poor boy's face, unlike Malfoy, or rather Draco as he had asked her to call him, who had laughed.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

Camille and Hermione left the dungeon as soon as they could, both wanting to avoid the catastrophe of cleaning up the spilled potion.

#harry #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hermione #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #fluff #hogwarts #veela #fleur delacour

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academiaipromise · 4 years

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Hello!

This is a series that was inspired by some stressed-filled Zoom calls that I’ve been having with some underclassmen for both my extracurricular organizations and peer mentoring programs. If you’re still reading this, chances are, you’re either going back to college soon or starting college for the first time in the year that is 2020. While we all are probably focusing on the safety of ourselves and our loved ones (as we arguably should), many incoming freshmen I’ve been talking to are also stressed about college things: emailing professors, study tips, how to balance virtual classes. So, in case you feel like reading a series of tips written by a 4th year undergrad who at least pretends to know what she’s doing, click below to read the second entry. Click here for the first.

Tip #2: Zoomin’, or Keeping a Life/Work Balance During Online or Hybrid Courses

When trying to figure out the order in which to post these tips, I was struck with the realization that I start school in a little over a week. So, if anyone is in this same boat, I figured it would be important to talk about class registration tips when there’s still time for you do something about it. This post is a long one, but here’s hoping you can find some advice in it.

So something to clarify right off the bat: when everything started moving to a virtual format, everybody and their mother on the Internet starting coming forward with tips on how to work from home. And while that’s kind of what’s happening here, I take issue with two things: working from home is not the same as working from home during a global crisis, and working from home is not the same as virtual college. So I’ll try to get as specific as I can, but also try to throw in some tips that might work better for you than they do for me.

Part One: Registering for Classes

Okay so this part you might have already done, but it’s good to keep in mind. While the recommended hours at every university is different, in my experience the average recommendation is 15 credits hours per semester. It’s important to note though that this is only an average: if you plan on taking courses in the summer, graduating early/later than 4 years, or taking on multiple majors, all of these things affect the credit hours you should be taking.

The unpleasant reality of registering for courses is there’s really no way to know how a specific class will be. There’s always RateMyProfessor.com or other tools, but who’s to say that professors will be like they normally are if they’re trying to figure out how to teach online/hybrid classes? Also, it’s a good thought to keep in mind that typically only two kinds of people leave public reviews of a professor/course: those who really loved the class, and those who really hated the class. So read and figure out what exactly they’re saying, not just how they feel about the course. And just know yourself - if someone from a humanities background says a statistics class is too hard, but you're great with numbers, that’s not always the best advice to heed. Listen to your gut instinct, both when registering and during drop/add week.

My advice for registering for classes right now? Whatever your instinct is, go a little less if you’re able. The reason I say this is because studying in 2020 can be...a lot, in the same way doing anything in 2020 is. I was only registered for 12 credit hours last semester, and even that became difficult to manage toward the end (moving back home suddenly, people you know getting sick, trying to protect high risk loved ones/yourself, all of which can and probably will happen again this semester). I would just say to go in overestimating how much time you need for yourself vs classes - there will be other semesters, and it’s better to take less classes now and not burn out or struggle mentally (or even just academically) in your first semester of college. Please just be kind to yourself.

Part Two: Zoom, or the True Necessary Evil

Maybe you used Zoom all throughout your last months of high school; maybe your university is using Microsoft Teams or something to that effect. Either way, here is what I’ve found to be helpful during my unforeseen five month foray into Zoom, seemingly with no end in sight.

1. Zoom is a tool. Yes, I kind of hate Zoom, and you may also come to hate Zoom if you don’t already, but there are benefits. You can send in written questions or raise your hand through Zoom if your professor allows that feature, both of which are very helpful in trying to show engagement while also trying to respect any kind of Zoom decorum. This post is going to be long enough, and my next post will have more to do with extracurriculars and virtual opportunities, but if you ever need to host a Zoom and want to just use all of its features, I’m more than happy to answer DMs. I’ve had to sit through so many Zoom tutorials for Student Involvement, and if I can spare anyone from that, I would love to.

2. Balance what you keep digitally versus what’s on paper. Okay, so this is definitely, definitely up to personal preference, but speaking from experience, I just don’t view online or hybrid classes as the opportunity to go fully digital if you’ve never been fully digital before. For me, I always take handwritten notes, mainly because when it comes to remembering things, I either have more of an auditory memory, or I can remember the way that I wrote something when I was taking notes. Considering online classes usually decrease the auditory memory aspect a lot, when things moved virtual I made a point to keep taking handwritten notes. However, something that I’ve found particularly appealing is using Google Calendar (or iCal, Outlook, whatever it is you prefer) to an excess. When scheduling Zoom calls, I always save the Zoom link in the description of the event on my Google Calendar. Trust me, this is a lot better than trying to go through your email to find the link that professor sent. So I would advice to think about your learning preferences and figure out a way to still play to your strengths, even if it might technically be a little less convenient.

3. Schedule screen breaks. This is so important for so many reasons. While I’ve invested in some blue light glasses because I am slowly losing my vision after years of reading books by flashlight or AO3 fics on my phone until late at night, I still get fatigued being on a screen for so long. Because it’s not just school that’s on the screen; it’s your clubs, your social interactions, maybe your job. I would recommend scheduling screen breaks that coincide with some sort of physical activity (I don’t necessarily mean an intensive physical activity, although if you want to feel free; I more am referring to getting up out of your chair and walking around your room or apartment. Or going outside. Ride your bike. Do some yoga. Eat some food. Etc.), but if you’re feeling particularly busy or overwhelmed, taking notes from a physical book works just as well. Even if you feel okay at the moment, scheduling breaks and following that schedule can save you from screen fatigue hitting all at once - it will take a lot longer to get over a headache between your eyes/your eye twitching or your neck and/or shoulder locking up than just allowing simple short breaks throughout your day.

4. Schedule time between Zooms. This may sound like the same thing as taking screen breaks, but what I’ve found is that Zoom is a lot more draining that in person classes. I used to schedule Zoom calls back to back like I would classes (again, personal preference, but I was always the person who would take all of their classes from 9:30-3:30 on Tuesday/Thursday, and no classes on Monday/Wednesday/Friday), but found out pretty quickly that I was wrecked after two or more Zoom calls in a row. Honestly, now I won’t schedule any two Zoom calls within a half an hour of each other - between calls, I like to walk around, grab a snack, stretch, close my eyes and try and suppress the social anxiety that seems to accompany every Zoom class or meeting I’ve ever had. (Tangent: I’m thoroughly convinced southerners were not meant to operate Zoom calls. No one knows how to hang up the dang call without being rude because we were taught to have 30 minute conversations in a doorway on our way out.) Maybe there are people who can go on Zoom calls for three hours or so (and I’ve done that with friends, whether just working on group projects or hanging out), but my personal recommendation would be just to space it out more than normal if you’re able.

5. Create an ideal weekly schedule. This is not “your most productive week ever,” or “this is the rigid schedule you will follow for eternity with no deviations.” One of my most difficult adjustments in college was the changing schedules; maybe you were planning on finishing an important paper on Thursday night, only for your group project to decide to meet that night instead. And that will happen, even with virtual meetings (maybe especially with virtual meetings, as people definitely tend to overestimate your availability when it’s digital). What I’ve found that helps is to create an ideal weekly schedule, both in general and a more specific one at the start of the week, because that means that when things get shuffled around, you actually reschedule that thing that you wanted to do, whether it’s homework, yoga, or just...being alone for a bit. It allows you to still feel like you’re prioritizing your time and activities, even when your schedule changes with little to no warning.

Part Three: Some Final Thoughts

If you can invest in a second monitor, now might really be the time to do it. If you’d prefer, I used a laptop riser for most of college before this all happened (yay nerve damage in my neck!) and an external keyboard and mouse. I would just compare models and figure out what works best financially if that’s something you want to do.

Ultimately, if this doesn’t come across in every tip I post, please just be patient with yourself this semester. This is a weird time, and I know that starting your first semester you might be 100% committed to starting off strong or making a great first impression. And that’s awesome, but sometimes that just might not be realistic. Look at last week’s post on contacting your professor, and reach out early just to introduce yourself. Establishing a relationship early on is always good, but especially considering that this semester really might have moments where you need some extra time or grace from them. Can’t focus? Can’t find motivation? That’s understandable; we’re in a global crisis right now. Just listen to yourself and always put your health and the health of your loved ones before school. I hope that these tips can at least help you navigate your first year with a little less trepidation.

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So that’s it for this entry! As always, if you have specific questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. Again, I am a student at an SEC university in the United States, so I’m not claiming to be an expert in all things, but I have TA'ed multiple freshman seminars, and will be making this series for the freshmen that I know starting at my school this year anyways, so putting them on this blog is no big deal. Next post (which will hopefully be up sooner than this one was) will specifically be on extracurriculars and virtual opportunities, so if you have specific questions on that as well, I’m all ears.

#studyblr #college tips #study tips #academia #first year of college #first year advice #first year tips #academiaipromise #zoom tips

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lowkeysaurus · 4 years

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Queen of Mean ; Part 2

summary: a recap of y/n’s escapades through the first two movies... before we get into the real story. pairings: harry potter/reader warnings: n/a notes: for the sake of the story, some things are not as they were in canon. an example of this, is that dumbledore appears significantly younger than how he is in the movies. Simply, I write him to be a slightly older version of Jude Law!Dumbledore.

Copyright Disclaimer under section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, education and research, thereby I do not own the rights to any of the characters shown in the below writing.

- SORTING CEREMONY - You remember it as if it were yesterday. Because you lived so close to the castle, you obviously didn’t have to take the train ride there- although, as it was part of the experience of being a first year, you did have to take the boat ride across the lake. Arthur and Flynn had previously assured you that you would see them on the other side, especially as they taught A History of Magic and Muggle Studies respectively, and those were both classes that were mandatory to take for the first two years. During the boat ride you’d become friends with two other girls, Aquila Crane and Lyra Prewett. Aquila was a very pretty, dark-skinned girl who wore her hair straight- you weren’t sure if it was a weave, extensions or her natural hair, and hadn’t felt like asking in the end, either. Lyra was also ridiculously pretty, with fairer skin, though not pale; and wore her natural hair proudly. They were boisterous girls, but that was fine, it was nice to have girls around for once. It went unspoken, but there seemed some sort of unspoken respect for each other through you all, as you quickly learned that Aquila’s mother was an auror who had been murdered, dare you say it; during the blast that had killed that boy, Peter Pettigrew. Lyra’s father had been Gideon Prewett, and upon learning that you’d wanted to start gushing about that story that Flynn had told you before- about how it took five Death Eaters to kill Gideon and his brother. They had both been great wizards. And then it came time to be sorted rather quickly. As soon as the doors flung open you immediately began searching for your cousins, and quickly found them, along with their grandfather. Flynn and Arthur sat on either side of Uncle Albus, though you’d have to start calling them by their surnames now; Professor Dumbledore, and the Professors Warren. There was a seat beside Arthur empty that you assumed to be the stern Professor McGonagall’s, and that sounded quite fitting, considering she happened to be Deputy Headmistress. You tried very hard to ignore the sorting ceremony, not wanting to spoil your mood when you heard their names, but even you were curious what house the heroic Harry Potter would be placed. It came as no shock that Draco was a Slytherin, your cousin’s entire line had been, but when it took almost two minutes to decide for Harry, your interest was piqued- and then the hat let out a mighty roar of “GRYFFINDOR!” You had immediately decided that you didn’t want to be a Gryffindor. Lyra was a Gryffindor like her father and his brother, and their father, and his father and so on, and she looked mighty proud of herself, was that tears in her eyes?; however Aquila had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Previously, it wouldn’t have struck you that she was pretty, but that was evidently stereotypes seeping in that no pretty girl could be clever, too. It wasn’t until after a Zabini, Blaise (who was a Slytherin), that you were called. The last person, as if that wasn’t daunting at all. The entire hall fell silent upon hearing the shaky “Black, Y/N” that escaped Professor McGonagall’s thin lips. You could feel each student and teacher’s eyes on you, and it was terrifying. You felt as if you were vibrating where you stood, however the encouraging gazes of each of your relatives, Flynn, Uncle Albus, Arthur and even Draco; pushed you onward. You lifted your skirt slightly above your knees as you ascended the stairs, and eventually you turned and sat on the little stool, and the hat was placed on your head. Its voice filled your head and you shook slightly, but otherwise remained silent and still. “Y/N Black, eh? It’s been a long time since I’ve had to sort any of you lot, Miss Black. And here, two possibilities; Gryffindor or Slytherin, you’ve certainly got the bravery for Gryffindor and the cunning for Slytherin, although I’m afraid to say you might be a little lacking on the kindness for Hufflepuff, Miss Black.” it mused, and you might have been offended if only you didn’t think it were true. Ever since seeing Harry Potter at Diagon Alley you’d been raving, to put it frank. Gerard had gotten fed up with it after less than a week. “The only question is, which do you want to be in?” it asked, and suddenly your heart stopped. The hat was very smart with what it said and what it asked, and it had just asked you the hardest question there was for you to answer. It was as if it were asking ‘Do you hate Malfoy or Potter more?’ and that was not a fair question because blast it all, you couldn’t decide which of them was worse. So you said what you thought. “I don’t know.” only, your voice didn’t come out quite as strong as you’d have liked. It suddenly occurred to you that the entire hall was still silent, save perhaps various whispers. You could hear the soles of someone’s shoes as they walked up behind you and laid a hand across your shoulder, rough and calloused with thick, long fingers. Undoubtedly a man. “You may return to your seat, Professor McGonagall. I’ll stay with her.” and oh, Merlin. You didn’t want all of this fuss to be about you, you’d already come to terms with the fact that your very name would garner you more attention than you’d ever be comfortable with, and now Flynn had drawn even more attention, if that were even possible. You could hear McGonagall’s heels tap, tap, tapping as she returned to her seat.

“Pay no attention to them. it’s just us two, right now. if you must think of it as a... level of hatred for the two boys, to decide on your answer, so be it.” the hat spoke again, and you almost thought that everyone in the hall might be able to hear it. Oh, to hell with it. Your father had been in Slytherin, though nothing good ever came of being in that forsaken house, and your uncle had been a Gryffindor, not that you liked to think much of him and his affiliation with the man who killed your father. In the end, you decided on Gryffindor- but only for Lyra, you told yourself that night as you tried to fall asleep. For Lyra, and Flynn, and Arthur. - MIRROR OF ERISED - You followed Harry and Ron there the night before, under your own invisibility cloak. You’d seen the portrait open when they left, and stuck on your cloak to follow the sound of feet noisily slapping against the cold, stone ground. It had led you here, and after they’d left, you’d decided to look in the mirror yourself. You know, out of curiosity, just to see what you saw, since they both saw different things. You saw your parents, too. The sight had caused tears to gather in your eyes and you had nearly sobbed then and there, but you refused. This would be the only memory you ever had of them, although they weren’t truly there, and you couldn’t spoil it by crying. You’d seen you living at the cottage with your cousins and your parents. You saw your father wrap his arms around your waist and your mother lean her head on his shoulder, and your cousins smiling with their hands on your mother and father’s shoulders too. Explainable, really, why you would come back the next day- only this time, you walked in to see your Uncle Albus. With a name like that, you could see why Aquila, who had grown up with her muggle grandparents, had thought he’d look like some old man with a long, white beard and sparkly robes. But no, your Uncle Albus didn’t look that... daft. He was a tall man, with a short, bushy grey beard with a patch of white on his chin, and short grey hair that might have been blonde or brown once. His hairline, admittedly, had seen better days however. He wore golden, circular spectacles on the bridge of his nose, and he had large, kind blue eyes that peered through them with a gentle smile on thin lips. He wasn’t large around the middle, either, even after eating so well at Hogwarts for his extensive teaching career. He wore a blue three-piece today, with oxfords, and his grey-blue coat hung over his arm, the same colour hat in his hands. For his age, he still looked rather young. Aquila had been shocked, and you’d simply chuckled, but thinking back- if you knew your Headmaster was over one hundred, you’d be under the impression he looked like Merlin himself, too. But you didn’t have time to speak, for as you took off your invisibility cloak, Albus began speaking to someone else- and oh, that was Harry Potter. Here again? Two or three nights in a row, you supposed. You stood off to the side and let them talk. it was evident he was more interested in the boy than you anyway, you thought with a frustrated huff. Uncle Albus’ eyes flickered back to you as if he’d heard the thought, but he said nothing, and neither did you. "So," Uncle Albus started, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." Albus looked particularly deep in thought as he said that, leaning forward so that his back was hunched and his elbows rested on his kneecap, chin in hand. "I didn't know it was called that, Sir." Potter mumbled, and you snorted. His eyes flickered back to you, he looked, with his frazzled hair, as if he’d been struck by lightning in that moment- wide eyes and messy, and all that, and he seemed vaguely irritated at your presence. You smiled. Albus shot you another look, and your smile dropped, but even still you were glad you’d managed to irritate the great Harry Potter, even if it wasn’t as much as his mere presence enraged you half the time. If looks could kill, you supposed the Killing Curse would be shooting from your Uncle Albus’ eyes right about now. He returned to talking to harry, either way. "But I expect you've realized by now what it does?" "It -- well -- it shows me my family--" Your heart stopped. it shouldn’t have been that much of a shock to you as it was, you knew of his parents and how they’d died, it was part of the reason you loathed him so very much, but as your blood turned to ice in your veins it struck you that perhaps you and the boy with the lightning scar were more similar than you’d given your money’s worth for. "And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy." he knew more than he let on, your Uncle Albus. It was his school, it had been his even when Dippet had been Headmaster- students tended to look to him for advice even when he was just the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. "How did you know -- ?" "I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Uncle Albus spoke gently. He stood then, gracefully as he was, and began to move about the room, heel touching the ground first and then rolling onto his toes with each step. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?" Harry shook his head dumbly, and you snorted. Both of them, this time, shot you a deadly look. "Let me explain.” Dumbledore began, leaning back on his heels and raising his head so that his face was pointed at the ceiling, as if he were thinking of just how to explain. His arms pulled behind his back and his hands linked, shoulders back as well. It struck you in that moment where each of your cousins and yourself had gotten your posture from. Finally, he moved again, and circled around Harry slowly as he spoke. “The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?" oh. Albus smiled as if he knew that suddenly it had clicked in both of your heads, and it occured to you that in that moment, he wasn’t talking to just Harry potter, but also you. His smile seemed to grow. Harry spoke up, he sounded unsure beyond belief, but he voiced what both of you in that moment had been thinking. "It shows us what we want... whatever we want..." "Yes.” Albus nodded, and then stopped at Harry’s right side, tilted his head slightly to the right, raised his eyes to the ceiling and hummed slightly as he said, “And no.” “It shows us nothing more..” he continued on, finally explaining properly. he’d always had a tenancy to beat around the bush, hadn’t he? Sometimes you wish he wished he wouldn’t speak in riddles, although it quite added to his, eh, grandpa charm. “or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.” and there it was, that explanation you’d been waiting diligently for, but he continued on, elaborating on points here and there that perhaps neither of you understood. “You two, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been... overshadowed, by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However!” and he stopped with a jolt, you wondered if he was going to topple forward. “This mirror will give us neither knowledge... nor truth. Men have...” he paused slightly, sighed, and continued. “wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even... possible, for that matter." “The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask you both not to go looking for it again.” suddenly his voice was stern, and any fragment of a smile he might have worn had left his face, to be overshadowed by a grim look, the corners of his mouth gently downturned. “If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put those cloaks of yours back on, and get off to bed?" Harry stood up, and you, who had already been standing, simply moved to place your cloak over your head when you stopped, the other Gryffindor’s voice pulling your attention. "Sir -- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" and of course, curiosity would win you over, for you find your head turning to look at the young Headmaster and the Chosen One with barely concealed intrigue. "Obviously, you've just done so," Uncle Albus replied with a strained smile, as if he knew what question was coming and was dreading it. "You may ask me one more thing, however." "What do you see when you look in the mirror?" You sucked in a breath. You knew of the stories, most of the Wizarding World did, and though these days it was rather common knowledge that your Uncle Albus was gay, he still didn’t like to talk much about it- sensetive memories, you supposed, from a time when he’d had to hide his sexuality so heavily that he’d married a woman, Genevieve Prewett, and had children with her. Gerard refused to speak about it almost as much as your Uncle, and you knew that was because his father had been very... conservative, and had been rather ashamed of his father’s sexuality- had gone as far as to wed a Malfoy woman rather early in his life to escape him, actually. You wondered whether Genevieve had known, and if she had, what had she thought. "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." You both stared, nearly dumbstruck. He, because it was rather a silly thing to see, and you because you knew much different."One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore, as if to solidify what he’d said, though his gaze turned to me slowly. He didn’t look quite so happy now as when we’d first entered the room. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

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